Chapter 11—Bass
“W hat have you found out?” Casper says as he, Law, Chains, Flint, and Domino come into the room we use for Church, or for private conversations. Boss man didn’t officially call it, but we all knew I couldn’t talk out in the clubhouse. Especially since my “plus-one” is still with me.
“That someone else needs to be put on babysitting duty,” I grumble.
Flint at least has the decency to nod. He’s been through this. Sort of. For him, he had to do it to get back into the club’s good graces. For me, I just got fucked by being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
“Keep the door open,” Casper says to Domino as he goes to close it after being the last one in the room. “Got the prospect bringing me lunch.”
We all snicker at that, as we’ve all done it in some fashion. Just another way to determine whether the new guy can get shit right and not screw up an order. Especially Casper’s. He’s notorious for going the extra mile and requiring some odd shit that’s damn near impossible to get.
“Kid ain’t doing so bad,” Domino voices, and I’m not the only one who huffs at that, as the new prospect is anything but a kid. Not that age is a factor for this club. We don’t care what age you want to join, as long as you’re at least eighteen and willing to do the time. Not everyone is cut out for the shit we put them through, and that’s what the year of probation proves. Either they want it badly enough to stick through what is mostly bullshit, or they don’t.
A knock on the open door is a good sign. Guy already knows that just because the door is open doesn’t mean he’s allowed in. Church is sacred, and very few prospects get the privilege to come in. I granted this prospect access as a thanks once for the work he did when I first went on my recruiting tour, taking him and the other prospect at the time, Gator, with me. We brought Gator in then, and I’ll admit, the new kid already has my vote into the club. Doesn’t mean I won’t give him shit or take it easy on him till he gets his patch, though.
“Door’s open, dumbass,” I call out, hiding my smile when he doesn’t take the bait that so many before him have. If he stepped in without getting an official invite, he would pull gate duty for two weeks. And that isn’t fun to do, especially when we make the prospects stand outside the guard shack and wait, rain or shine.
Casper waits another beat before nodding, more to himself than anyone else. I can already tell the new guy is growing on our enforcer. “Come in.” His bark is loud but respectful—well, as respectful as we get, which isn’t much if we’re comparing ourselves to those outside these walls.
The prospect nods at us all as he closes the door, sparing us each a second to recognize us as he beelines to Casper, handing him the paper bag and then stepping back as he opens it. Kid is getting a ton of shit right. Got half a mind to think Gator told him how we do it around here. Most people just drop the bag and run, but this one sticks around to get the reaming he knows is coming. Either he’s a cocky fucker and knows he got it right, or he knows he fucked up and is taking this shit like a man, head-on.
As the prospect awaits his ruling, Law gets to the point. While we might not discuss things out in the open because Milly is here, that doesn’t mean we don’t trust members of the club, even the new ones, enough to wait for complete privacy.
“Let’s move on to the woman of the hour.” A few of the boys chuckle at the boss’s turn of phrase, but I don’t. That girl is taking on a life of her own in my head, and I don’t like it.
“What did you find?” I ask Flint before they start in on me. This group is notorious for it, and yeah, I’m usually the one starting it. What can I say? I’m a hypocritical son of a bitch and hate when the shoe is on the other foot and they come after me.
“Like she told us, her first name is Milly, but the last name’s not Johnson. Took a while, but I finally found her.” Flint turns his tablet around to show us his screen as he continues talking. “Gentlemen, let me introduce you to Milly Leone—daughter of Vincent Leone and sister of Vinny Leone, the unofficial don of Brooklyn.”
“Jesus,” Domino mutters, to which Flint just grins, and it ain’t a nice one.
“Oh, it gets better. Back chatter says he’s making a bid to become the capo of all of New York, which would give him access to most of the East Coast.”
“How did we miss this?” Chains asks as he leans on the table with a bit of his air knocked out. I’m also floored by the news that we could have missed something this big .
A throat clearing draws all eyes to the prospect. Few patched brothers speak up in a room filled with club officers, and I can’t think of a single prospect ever dumb enough to do so.
“Got something to say?” Casper growls.
To his credit, the guy doesn’t back down and even stands straighter as he answers the enforcer. “Maybe you should be checking everyone fully. Club’s got enemies we can’t see.”
His words drop like a bomb in the room. He’s right. Over the last few years, we’ve operated on a level where we knew who was gunning for us, and we were proven wrong more often than right. With the club going international with the Operation Hell Hound gig, we need to think wider.
I curse under my breath as I see the hole we put ourselves in and look to Law. He’s already staring at me, reading my mind, no doubt.
“You’re dismissed,” Law tells the prospect, who nods and leaves, closing the door on the way out. “Let’s table that for a second. Flint, continue.”
Flint shrugs, but I see the tic in his jaw. I know he isn’t happy about this. “We missed it for two reasons. One, we weren’t looking. We did a full sweep on her, more than the usual, but she still didn’t ping because of the second reason.”
“Which is?” Casper drawls out as I see him pick over his peanut butter and onion sandwich. It looks okay, even if I’ve got no idea how the prospect got it on pumpkin bread. Pretty sure not even the bakery sells that stuff outside the fall months.
“She had help,” Law says, drawing the conclusion just like me .
Flint nods.
“Who?” I ask.
“Crazy Eights.” Flint waits a beat to let that sit heavy in the air before turning his tablet back around, tapping on it as he continues to fill us in. “They were the ones who made her disappear. From what I’ve gathered, not even her family knows where she is.”
“Is her family behind this?” Law asks with a tilt of his head, trying to figure it out before anyone speaks, no doubt.
“Nah,” Flint says with a headshake. “Don’t think so. From what I’ve been able to piece together, her family is keeping up the ruse for her and Ollie’s sake. They deflect when anyone asks about her, but no hits are coming out of their office. And I’ve looked. Thoroughly.”
“You think the Crazy Eights approached them or vice versa?” Casper asks. We know little about that group, but we know we owe them. And it’s never money. If the Crazy Eights are looking to gain a favor from the future head of the East Coast mafia, you can bet it’s going to be one hell of a payment.
“Can’t tell. The family is keeping things quiet, but I’ve got nothing to link them to the other group. Everything I found—which isn’t much, since the Crazy Eights know what the fuck they’re doing—is just between Milly and them.”
I rub my hands over my face, hoping to scrub hard enough to wash away what’s right in front of me. Which is shit. Jack shit.
“Where do we go from here?” I say with a sigh of resignation .
“We could just ask her. Maybe even get Fairy in on it,” Domino says with a head tilt and a shoulder shrug.
Law shakes his head before he speaks. “No, not yet. I want her to trust us enough to tell us herself.”
I snort at that. “Sorry, boss, but the girl’s from Brooklyn. She’s as stubborn as they come, and trust is not something we’re going to gain easily. If we want answers sooner than later, I’m with Domino on this. Take the chick down to the basement and let the club’s lie detector figure out where her mind is.”
“She’s got a kid,” Chains says, his eyes on the table. “A kid she sent away to keep safe.” He looks up and matches eyes with all of us before continuing. “She does everything for that kid. If we send Fairy in, all she’s going to get is that the girl’s a protective mother, just like my old lady is. You said so yourself, Bass, she’s stubborn. Probably stubborn enough not to speak at all, which won’t help Fairy or any of us. I’m with Law on this. Best way for her to speak is to give her time. We keep watch, keep them safe, and wait it out.”
“That’s going to take longer than a week,” I grit out.
“Probably.” Chains’ eyes are on me and me alone.
I work my jaw; it clicks with how tight I’m holding it. I don’t like this shit, not one fucking bit. But before I can say anything more, Law is already moving past this problem and on to the next.
“Prospect’s right. We need to run a full sweep on everyone who walks into the club or touches club property for more than just a pass-and-go. ”
Flint nods as he types away. Casper is the one to speak up, his mouth full of sandwich. “You even want it on the brothers?”
Law hesitates briefly. We run the gamut on everyone when they first come in but never check in after the fact. Doesn’t mean we won’t find things if we do it again. Doesn’t mean we will either, of course.
“We’ll put it to a vote,” Law says, and the boys and I nod. If no one complains, then we already know we’ve got nothing to worry about. If someone does… well, we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.
“What about the club girls?” Domino inquires with a scratch of his head and pinched face. Casper and I look at him with a raised eyebrow, and he winces. “Sorry.”
He knows that if we do that, probably half the girls we’ve got will take off running. Might not seem so bad to the rest of the boys in the room, as they’ve all got their old ladies to keep them warm at night. Well, except for Law, but he says the memories of his old lady are enough for him. But some of us don’t want a permanent thing.
Law nods. “Yeah, I get it. Pussy is pussy, but Domino has a point. If we’re going to run it on the boys, we need to do so for those the club wants to stick their dick in—at least the ones who hang around more than once. If they show more than one night, do a full sweep.” He says the last bit to Flint, who doesn’t even look up but nods, knowing it’s directed at him.
I put aside the ache my balls are imagining and think with my brain before I speak. “As for the ones who walk in the door, we might want to do some facial recognition software. Could cut down on Flint and his team pulling all-nighters. Have it flag the big hitters and whatnot, just for an initial look, anyway.”
“Not a bad idea. Set it up.”
And with that, Law is up and out of the room before I can stand and chase after him. Probably already knows I’m going to be asking for someone to take over babysitting duties.
But before I do, Flint tells me to hang back as the rest of the brothers filter out.
“One more thing.” He finally sets that damn tablet down and gives me his full attention. I tense a second, as it’s rare for Flint to put his computer down unless it’s for the boss or his old lady. “Not a single file could tell me anything about Oliver.”
“What’re you saying?” I step closer out of intrigue and not concern for the kid. I’m not the type to get attached. I refuse to.
He stands with a shrug. “Could mean anything.”
I glare at that. Flint is a lot of things, but cryptic ain’t one. “Think she stole him or something?”
“Nah, she cares too much, like Chains said. Just not sure he’s hers.” He pats my back as he moves past me and out the door, and I sink down to sit on the table.
Then who the fuck does he belong to? And why do I give a fuck?