Chapter 3
Hawk
Winger guns it for me as soon as I walk into the clubhouse.
“Did you fuck her?”
I ignore him and lift my chin at the prospect serving as a bartender to pour me a shot. He wastes no time getting it for me, and I down it with no hesitation. As soon as I slam the glass back on the counter, he refills it.
“Whoa, she must’ve been fucking good then,” Winger snickers. “I wish I’d volunteered for this mission. She is quite the piece of ass.”
I grab the shot glass and empty it once again. The adrenaline is making the blood rush through me at a faster rate than one would consider normal. My dick is hard enough to pound nails with it. I about took it out and gave myself relief as soon as I got to my bike, but I couldn’t show that kind of weakness.
Riding all the way to the club with the massive hard-on about put me out of commission. At some point, I hit a pothole from hell and saw stars.
“Seriously though.”
He elbows me once I relax against the bar, with my forearms resting on its surface.
“Did you get any intel?”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes.
“I laid out the foundation,” I say instead.
Winger seems taken aback by that, albeit amused.
“Foundation for fucking? You’re so romantic, Hawk,” he teases. “I had no idea.”
I am saved from his sarcastic remarks when I notice our president waving me over. Without a backward glance at Winger, I walk away and head toward our church room where the president disappeared to.
“Prez,” I nod at him when I enter. He is seated at the head of the long table, no sign of amusement on his face. It is the total opposite of Winger’s attitude tonight.
“How did it go?”
I stretch my legs in front of me and rest my hands over my stomach.
“Too easy,” I tell him. “She wanted to fuck, so that won’t be a problem going forward. But I don’t know yet what she knows, if anything.”
With his eyes boring into mine, he just nods in understanding as he mulls things over.
“Devereaux is on my ass hard,” he explains. “We need to get this done for him, and it needs to be fast.”
I take a deep breath in, wondering how I should tell my president that I think we’re being played.
“Don’t you find it odd that Devereaux wants to blow up the Lizards? I thought he and Bricks go way back.”
“They used to be best friends,” Prez confirms. “But then, Bricks decided that he wanted Devereaux’s woman.”
I lift my eyebrows in surprise.
“When was that?”
“Fuck if I remember,” he shrugs. “It’s gotta be close to forty years by now.”
I bust out laughing. “Forty fucking years? And he’s taking his revenge now? That must’ve been some magic pussy.”
“I’m sure it was,” he laughs with me. “She is now married to Bricks, has been since.”
The laughter dies on my lips. “What the fuck.”
“Arlene Knight has been at the crux of all this for a long time. I’ve been waiting for this day.”
It doesn’t make sense to me. “Why did Devereaux wait this long?”
“He was in business with Bricks. There were long standing contracts that could not be broken. Not without everyone dying. He had to bide his time.”
I tap my hand on the table as my brain works on connecting the dots and figuring things out.
“So what now, he wants his woman back? Ain’t she old by now?”
He smirks and shrugs. “She’s still hot. And she doesn’t look as bad as you’d expect considering all the shit Bricks put her through over the years.”
I drop my head back and think for a minute, putting together all the information that we currently have. Although, it is obvious that our president here knows more than we thought.
“Arlene Knight was not on the list of people he told us to make sure are out of the clubhouse,” I finally realize.
“Devereaux will take care of that part himself,” Prez informs me calmly. “His woman, his problem.”
“The easiest way would be to just infiltrate Bricks’ club,” I think out loud. “Send a prospect in.”
“This job is too big to trust a prospect with it,” Prez mutters. “We need to focus on how this will help our club. This is a huge opportunity for us, Hawk. We need to be able to pull it off.”
I laugh at that. “And fucking the stripper is the only way to do it, huh?”
“The sacrifices you need to make in the name of the club, brother.” Prez joins into my amusement.
His face gets serious right after. It’s all fun and games until your life is on the line.
“Wrecker is recovering at his brother’s house up in Illinois,” he tells me. “He’ll be heading home soon. He’s got this little kid now, not sure why the fuck he would bring him back here.”
“There was no kid on the list of people to get out,” I make sure to point out. “Other than Wrecker, we got Puck, Sully, and their computer weirdo, Shortie. That’s a strange group to rescue.”
“Wrecker is Arlene’s son,” Prez explains. “Although, I wouldn’t be surprised if he was Devereaux’s son, too. But my math could be wrong,” he shrugs. “I’m not sure what the connection to Puck and Sully is, but I’d bet good money there is one.”
“What about Shortie?”
“Shortie is a fuckin’ mystery, too.”
“How did the stripper get involved in all this shit?”
Prez taps his fingers on the table, the move almost hypnotic.
“The other stripper there, Lala is her name… She is working for Bricks.”
I nod, prodding him to continue.
“She has the hots for Puck, wants him bad. She would do anything to have him. And Bricks told her that she would.”
I lift my eyebrow in surprise. “I’ve always thought Puck was smarter than that. He is a nut, but not a stupid one.”
“Nobody says she will succeed. The only reason Puck and Sully are still alive is because of Wrecker. Bricks doesn’t trust them, and they know it. Once Wrecker gets eliminated, they’re next.”
“Where does Ruby Santiago fit into all of this?”
Because I don’t get it. It would be much easier for us to go after this Lala character.
“Ruby has been conditioned by Lala to believe that the Savages are the ones doing everything that we are accusing the Lizards of doing.”
“The sex trafficking?” I ask for confirmation, and he nods. “Who cares what she thinks?”
Prez sighs. “It’s not about that. Your job is to trickle fake information to her. She will share it with Lala, who, in turn, will share it with Bricks.”
“We don’t have much time.”
Prez watches me carefully. We both know all that’s riding on this mission. To take the Steel Lizards MC out will open a lot of doors for us. Not to mention that having Devereaux’s backing is worth its weight in gold.
“A ten mil advance hit the books this morning.”
His voice is cool when he speaks. It is, after all, just a money transaction. Between the bonus money Devereaux promised us and all the contracts we will pick up once the Lizards are out of the picture, we are going to be set for fucking life.
“I want a cut of that,” I now tell my president. His eyebrow raises in amusement. He’s not surprised by my request.
“We all get a cut of that.” He smirks at me knowingly.
“I want double for having to do all the heavy lifting.”
My jaw clenches from the tension when he takes his time giving me an answer.
“We are no Lizards.” His tone is unforgiving when he speaks. “You implying that you would not be compensated appropriately for doing this for the club does not bode well for you, Hawk.”
“I did not imply anything, Prez,” I argue back. “You know why I’m asking this.”
My mother was diagnosed with dementia five years ago. I found her the best care money could buy. While the club takes good care of me, most of the money has to go toward the fees for the facility she is in. It wouldn’t hurt for me to have some extra to build a cushion.
“It will go up for vote at the next church meeting. I want a full update on where you are with the stripper on the day before.”
With that, our impromptu meeting is over. We both stand up, and I follow him back out into the common room. As soon as I step foot in it, the loud music hits me once again. I don’t know what the fuck is going on with me, but all of a sudden, I can’t stand it.
Ignoring the club girls vying for my attention, I keep on walking until I hit the courtyard in the back. I find an empty picnic table and sit on it, resting my feet on the bench.
I pat my chest pocket for the pack of cigarettes I always keep there before remembering that I decided to quit.
“Ah, fuck!”
Looking around, I spot a couple of prospects standing by the bikes parked to the side.
“Prospect!” My voice booms across the yard. “Come here!”
One of them rushes to do my biding. He runs over, staring at me with wide eyes when he gets close enough.
“Cigarette,” I bark at him.
He scrambles to look for his pack, drops it once before it is flying out of his hand when he tries to hand it over to me. I snatch it away from him along with the lighter he has in his other hand.
“Get the fuck out of here,” I say as soon as I secured the precious items.
The first pull of smoke hitting my lungs is the sweetest. I don’t even remember why I decided to quit it to begin with. Something to do with some nasty cough I had for a while. But it’s now gone, and it’s not like I plan on living forever.
My cell phone vibrates with a message, but I decide that it can wait until I finished this first cigarette. Because there will be more after that. In fact, I don’t plan on stopping tonight until this whole fucking pack is gone.
“Go get me a whole carton,” I yell out to the prospect. He takes off in a run, never questioning my request.
“What the fuck, brother,” Winger appears next to me. “I thought you quit it. Doc said that bronchitis you’ve been fighting will turn into pneumonia soon if you don’t stop smoking.”
Ah, bronchitis, that’s what it was. I figured it’d be a more manly reason.
“Something’s gotta kill me anyway.”
He takes his time sitting next to me before resting his feet on the bench in front of us.
“I sent you a text,” he tells me after a few minutes of awkward silence. “It’s intel on the stripper.”
That gets my attention, and my head snaps back to stare at him. He can see the questions in my eyes and starts talking.
“She’s from across the state. Quit school right before graduation. Kinda odd,” Winger comments, and I have to agree. “She got caught whoring around with some football players. Parents threw her out. She started stripping. Nothing more interesting than that.”
I finish my cigarette and immediately light another. The smoke catches in my chest, making me lose my breath for a brief second. But the high I get from it is worth it. I blow the smoke back out and smile.
“Pretty predictable on the stripper,” I agree with Winger. “I suppose that’s how they all get started in the business.”
Winger nods in agreement, but he’s not as amused by it as I am.
“What else is going on?”
“I got word that Puck and Sully left for Illinois.”
I clear my throat when something feels stuck in there. I cough it up and spit it to the side.
“What the fuck for?” I manage to ask Winger.
“From what I hear, Wrecker is in no shape to ride back. Besides, his bike is, well, wrecked.”
We both laugh at that.
“He can’t rent a car or truck?”
“His ribs are all fucked up. And he’s got that kid now.” Winger leans against me, like he’s about to tell me a secret. “If you ask me, I think he’s scared of him.”
“Scared of who? The kid?”
Winger snickers. “Yeah. He’s older. He can talk and shit. And I guess all he does is scream and cry.”
“I’d do the same if you forced me to join the Lizards.”
We both bust out laughing, to the point where I break into a coughing fit. Maybe me smoking is not the smartest idea after all. But deciding that the satisfaction I get from it is more important, I take another long pull from my cigarette.
“This whole thing is either gonna make us or break us,” I declare as I let out a puff of smoke. “Failing can’t be an option.”
I think of all the money I need for my mother’s care. If anything happened to me where I couldn’t pay, they would kick her out. She’d be dead within days.
“We just need to make sure there will be no trace to us once this is said and done,” Winger elbows me. “I could never survive prison. I’m too pretty for it.”
I turn my head to stare at him right before blowing smoke right into his face.
“Didn’t you do time before?”
“Yeah,” he nods. “And I got hit on more times than I could count. I about killed a couple of motherfuckers before they let me out.”
We spend the next few minutes with me giving him shit about his sexual activities while being locked up and him defending his actions. In the end, the conversation gets back to the stripper.
“Just be careful with her, brother.” Winger’s face and tone of voice are serious now. “Women like her know how to play the best of us. Don’t fuckin’ go and fall for her, or we’re all screwed, you hear?”
I finish my cigarette and throw the butt in the small tray full of sand that’s been placed out here for this exact purpose.
“You must confuse me for a prospect,” I tell him. “I think I’m old enough to not be tricked by a pussy that’s available to anyone who’s got a handful of dollars to throw at it.”
Our entire clubhouse is full of whores. If I wanted to get serious with one of them, I’d have my pick.
Winger just shrugs. “I’ve seen stranger things happen.”
I stand up from the table and stretch my legs. I’ve seen plenty of fucked up shit in my life, too. Me falling for a stripper who’s the enemy won’t ever be one of them.