Tristan woke with a start. He tried to rise but found himself tied to a chair. Rope bound both of his arms to the armrests and his ankles were tied to the legs. It cantilevered him forward slightly, making his shoulders ache.
“Nice nap?”
He jerked to attention to see Gus seated across from him. The biker President was completely relaxed. On the table beside him was the pile of the drugs Tristan had gone to great lengths to obtain. This was not how this interview was meant to play out. It should have been Gus in chains.
“Been a busy little beaver, haven’t you?” Gus asked, with no trace of humor. “Can’t say I’m surprised, but I do wish you'd been a bit cleverer.”
Gus picked up one of the packages and noted the evidence tape wrapped around it. He frowned. It was hard to believe Tristan w
