Dutch (BLP Motorcycle Clubs #4)

25. Dutch

My eyes scanned the back of the abandoned warehouse as I cut the engine and dismounted my Harley. Saint's intel was spot on, and they swooped that nigga up like he owed rent.

My crew was already here with their bikes, forming a semi-circle around a figure chained up and hanging like a hammock between four motorcycles. Darian.

He was going to fuck around and find out today.

"Yo, Prez, we got him trussed up like you instructed. Just say the word, and we'll split him like a hog."

I gave a curt nod. I was in tunnel vision as I approached Darian. Though he was bloody and bruised, a smirk played on his lips. I wanted to wipe it off with my fist.

"Well, if it ain't the big bad wolf himself coming to huff and puff," Darian taunted.

I ignored his taunt and addressed my crew. "Keep those chains tight, any funny business, light his ass up!" I instructed.

Additional crew members guarded the perimeter of the property, their grips tight on their pieces.

Good, I wanted him to sweat. The games were over.

I strode closer to him with measured control. I couldn't let him know how much I wanted to rip him apart for what he'd done to Vassar, Malakai, and Makari.

"Are you going to sing or scream?" I questioned, my tone dangerously low.

Darian's eyes darted around as he squirmed. "You're all smoke and mirrors. You can't touch me! I got people!" he spat.

I let out a harsh laugh and crossed my arms. "Really? Because from where I'm standing, you appear to be pretty damn touchable."

I nodded to Rico. He revved his engine and rolled up a bit, stretching Darian’s arms tight. Fear flickered in Darian's eyes.

"Now, let's talk about what you did to my people."

I pulled the ledger from Darian's flannel shirt pocket and flipped through the pages. "This here documents your whole operation, every payment and dirty deal you've made. And guess what? I don't give a shit about most of this." I began ripping out pages. "What I do care about is what you did to my loved ones. Vassar, Malakai, and Makari. You know I tried to walk away and mind my business, but you wouldn't stop fucking with me, and since you seem to think you're untouchable?—"

"That ledger doesn't prove shit," Darian cut in, trying to maintain the smug look on his face.

"Oh, but it does. Those 'people' you mentioned are going down on your behalf with this information." I smiled coldly and dangerously. "The rest?" I pulled out my lighter and flicked it open. "Let's just say it's going to keep the MC squeaky clean."

I dropped the ledger on the ground and gathered the pages I'd pulled out, setting them on fire. Darian flinched as the hot pages dropped on his face, burning him.

Saint approached me. "We got a problem, boss."

I turned around to see Makari coming from the front of the warehouse.

"Damn, she's not supposed to be here," I responded.

"What the hell, Dutch?" Makari yelled.

"What are you doing here?" I questioned, moving in her direction.

As I reached her, she reached into my pocket and pulled out her earbuds. "I tracked you, fearing you'd do something stupid."

She tried to push past me, but I grabbed her arm. "This ain't your business. You shouldn't be here.

She craned her neck to see. "Who is that?" Her eyes widened when she saw the scene of Darian chained up, and my crew was ready for war. She looked shocked, maybe even disappointed. Makari yanked her arm free. "Dutch, I'm not a child. Don't you dare try to protect me."

My jaw clenched. Stubborn as always. "I know, but this is dark shit. MC business you don't need to see."

"Don't do this. Dutch… don't become him."

For a second, I was tempted to listen, but I remember Vassar's tears, the look in his eyes before he died, not to mention all the other shit he'd put me through. I'd lost a career behind him.

I shook my head. "Sometimes, darkness is the only way to bring light. Now, I can't protect you if you stay, so please go."

Makari ducked under my arm quick as lightning, and before I could grab her, she headed to Darian.

"Makari, stop!" I shouted.

She planted herself in front of Darian. His body was tight like a coiled spring. "Where's my brother? What did you do to Malakai?" she demanded.

I was right behind her, ready to pull her back if shit went sideways.

Darian looked at her, his lip curled into a sneer. "Ah, little miss runaway. You think you can finish what your brother couldn't?" he taunted.

Makari's body stiffened, but she didn't back down. "Answer the question, you piece of shit! What happened to Malakai?" she seethed.

Darian laughed an ugly, harsh laugh. "Ask your bodyguard here. He knows how the game was played."

I stepped forward. "Enough! Tell her the truth, or do you need motivation?" I nodded to Trigger this time who revved his engine, tightening the chain on his leg this time. Darian growled in pain, but his eyes were still full of mockery.

"Truth is, sweetheart, your brother couldn't handle the heat. He was weak. How ironic is it that you're running with the same crowd that got him killed?"

I was about to shut this nigga up when Makari spoke. "You don't know shit about Malakai. Now, tell me before I let Dutch finish what he started."

I nodded again, and another arm was stretched, leaving Darian groaning loudly.

"Fine, you want the truth? Malakai got in over his head, thought he was a big shot, and tried to play both sides. He recorded some sensitive business, thinking it would be his ticket out." Darian stopped talking to spit out blood.

"The video. Is my brother alive?" she probed.

Darian wasn't finished. "Your boy didn't finish me when he had the opportunity. Cold feet, I guess." He attempted to shrug, chains rattling.

"Was the video a fake? I need to know if my brother is alive," she repeated.

"Yes," he answered coldly.

Makari damn near collapsed at his words. I had to hold her up.

"Yes, the video was fake, and cold feet will get you put six feet under."

Rage had built in my chest, but in a flash, Makari windmilled his ass.

"Motherfucker, he was worth one hundred of you!"

I pulled her back, more for her safety than his. Darian lunged his body. "You lil' bitch! I'll?—"

"You pathetic chained-up dog! You may have taken my brother, but you won't take anything else! I promise you that!"

Saint nodded. My crew was getting antsy.

I wrapped an arm around Makari's waist, pulling her back. "All right, that's enough. It's over."

"Dutch, I'm not finished?—"

I cut her off. "We got what we came for," I reminded Makari as I led her away.

Makari was shaking under my arm. Her adrenaline had her wired up.

"What about justice for Malaki?" she demanded.

"Trust me, he'll get it," I reassured her.

As we reached my bike, I turned to Saint. "Finish him, make sure he understands the cost of fucking with my family."

I swung my leg over the bike, pulling Makari on behind me. I heard engines revving, drowning out Darian's threats, yelling, and bones cracking.

"Hold me like you love me," I told Makari, feeling her wrap her arms around my waist. I peeled out Darian's roars of pain, fading behind us.