Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
JOHNNY “HAWK’ MANN
It didn’t take long for the guys to get a hit on the Bastards. The motherfuckers had totally taken advantage of all the shit that we were dealing with over the last year and completely flew under our radar just as Maverick has suspected. When Wiz, Ink, and Torque revealed all that they had uncovered, it started to look like the Bastards were taking a page out of their old playbook, trying to pin us against the Grizzlies.
Ink had eyes on one specifically, and Maverick called Vector to set up a meeting. We all needed to be on the same page, and that meant we had to divulge our history with the Bastards to the Grizzlies. Parrish didn’t trust the Grizzlies, though, and honestly, I was starting to think yielding on the side of caution wasn’t such a bad idea. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one either. Right before we rolled out, Maverick ordered us to strap up.
Now, we were locked and loaded, sitting in Carolina’s Coffee House, a quaint little joint on the outskirts of Greensboro. Leftie was tight with the owner and slipped him a few bills to close the place down for our meeting. A good thing too judging by the way the Grizzlies are approaching the table now that they’ve arrived. Chains has a holster on display, and one of the other guys has a Ka-Bar knife attached to his hip.
I guess their trust is just as shot as ours.
“Did some digging after your text came through,” Maverick starts, cutting right to the chase before the Grizzlies have a chance to even sit. “It appears the Bastards aren’t as dead as we originally thought. Don’t have a lot of intel, and not sure how we missed that—that’s on me—but from what we were able to uncover, there is a charter out here, and they’re housing a couple of bikes with Boston plates. One of my guys is currently tailing one that’s been on the move. He’s made a couple of stops, so we’re waiting to see where he winds up before we make a move.”
“And if he makes your guys? Then what’s your plan?” Chains brusquely asks.
“Believe it or not, this isn’t our first fucking rodeo, asshole,” Ghost clips, his patience wearing. I am willing to bet every dollar I have, that he’s internally beating himself for the Bastards slipping under our noses. Maverick was understandably distracted with his daughter which left Ghost taking the brunt of everything the club’s been dealing with and while no one would ever blame him—that’s not saying he doesn’t.
Bishop clears his throat. “He’s in a cage. Now if you don’t have any more asinine questions, there’s some shit you need to know. History that would be relevant if these cocksuckers do indeed have our kids. So why don’t you do us all a favor and take a fucking seat.”
Amen.
Begrudgingly they do just that, and Maverick takes that as his cue to dive right in.
“A while back Parrish came to my table in dire need of guns. He had heard I had a deal in place with the Corrupt Bastards, that I was their steady supplier.” Wolf grunts, reminding us all that Parrish went behind his back. Maverick shoots the two men a look, silently warning them to keep a lid on their squabbling antics. “As I was saying, Parrish was desperate, and I thought I could buy some time with the Bastards. We had a good relationship. There was absolutely no reason why they wouldn’t grant me an extension, allowing me to deliver what I had on hand to Parrish.”
I chanced a peak at Vector, then glanced at Chains. If they were frowning upon Maverick’s decision, they didn’t show it.
“So we worked our tails off to transfer the guns. My wife’s then husband worked for a trucking company. He tipped us off on a truck carrying a bunch of coffins up North and agreed to move the guns so long as we hid them in the coffins. So we ripped those motherfucking thing apart and concealed all the guns inside the satin liners.” That bit of information got an eyebrow lift from Silver. “The guns never made it to New York, though.”
“What happened?” Silver asks.
“My vice president at the time was fucking his way through the Sinaloa cartel and he was working with them behind my back to take us all out. He tipped off the Corrupt Bastards, and they intercepted the shipment, killing Colt and taking the guns.”
“I’m taking it this Colt fellow was your wife’s husband.”
Maverick’s jaw ticks. As much guilt as he harbors over Colt’s death, there will always be a part of him that resents the man who married Holly and gave her another son.
“When I learned the truth, that King was playing me, pinning both my charter, and Wolf’s against the Bastards, I took action,” Maverick shares. “I wear that cocksucker’s blood proudly.”
He’s not exaggerating. I’ve seen a lot of shit since I got my colors, but the image of Maverick slicing King’s throat and wiping the blood from his hands on his shirt will forever be ingrained in my mind. It was poetic justice the likes of Shakespeare.
“Once King was out of the picture and the message was sent to the cartel, we rode up North. With Wolf leading the charge, we obliterated the Corrupt Bastards, and took back our guns.”
“Left them in ruins,” Pipe chimes. Wolf’s vice president showed us all how he got his name that night when he crafted a pipe bomb that blew the Bastards’ clubhouse to smithereens.
“So you think that this could be a retaliation on that?” Vector asks.
Maverick considers the question, his gaze flitting to Wolf then back to Vector.
“It’s been too quiet. I mean there were a million opportunities when my daughter was sick for these cunts to strike, and they didn’t. Why now? There’s something we’re missing.”
“They could’ve been biding their time. If you left them in ruins as you say, takes time to build something out of nothing,” Silver says. He glances at Bishop. “Does your boy know any of this?”
Bishop looks away, his nostrils flaring as jaw clenches. “It’s possible,” he grinds out before slowly brings his eyes back to Silver. “Can try to shield them from our lives but it never seems to work, does it?”
That resonates deep inside of me, and my mind wanders to Jo.
To our baby.
I lost my shit earlier, but I wasn’t hopeless. I’d find a way to make it work, and I’d do everything in my power to never be in Bishop’s position.
“You better pray your boy don’t have loose lips,” Flint growls from across the table. “You did teach him how to keep his mouth shut, right?”
Vector scoffs from beside him. “Would you keep your mouth shut if you were a fourteen-year-old boy with no clue how else to protect the girl you’re with?”
Silver clears his throat and pins Maverick with a stare. “So what’s the plan here?”
“Well, we wait for Ink to call. See where this one Bastard ends up. Who knows maybe he leads us to the kids.”
“And if he doesn’t? We’re running out of time here.”
“Then we take him for a ride. Bastards squeal like little pigs when they’re out in the country with nothing but the promise of wildlife looking to make a meal out of them,” Maverick says confidently. “We’ll get him talking.”
Suddenly, Maverick’s phone rings. He reaches into his kutte to retrieve it, and when he catches a glimpse of whose calling, he lifts his chin and stares across the table at Silver.
“Speak of the Devil, and the Devil shall appear.” His thumb swipes across the screen, and he lifts the phone to his ear. “Talk to me, Ink. What do you got?”
We all stare at him as he listens to whatever Ink is telling him. Occasionally he nods, but other than that, he remains quiet.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Parrish growls. “What’s he saying?”
Maverick’s gaze snaps to him for a brief second, before he turns and locks eyes with Bishop. “Ink’s got eyes on your boy.”
Silver pushes up out of his chair, bracing his hands against the table as he leans over it.
“What about Alex? Is she with him?”
Maverick nods. “They’re both there and appear unharmed.”
Silver draws out a deep breath, and my eyes flit to Bishop. For a man who just got confirmation that his kid is alive, he looks no less tense than he did when he wasn’t sure. I guess that’s only natural, but what do I know about being a father.
Maverick wraps up the call and briefs us as we file out of the coffee house, and head for our bikes. I straddle my bike, my hands curling around the throttle.
“Phones off, and sim cards out if you have them,” Vector calls over the blaring sound of our engines.
“Hold up,” Ghost shouts as he dismounts his bike. Ripping his helmet from his head, he points between Bishop and Silver. “Give me your phones. Bash, you stay here with the phones, just in case that piece of shit Sheriff is tracking them, and we need to prove their whereabouts later on.”
“Good thinking,” Silver praises, dropping his phone into Ghost’s palm. He walks the phones over to Bash and gives him a pat on the back before getting back on his Harley. Maverick shares the location, and we ride out, ready to wreak havoc and tag some toes.
Ink’s cage comes into view, and I rear off to the left, giving Bishop, and Silver room to go around me. Once they clear my Harley, they trail closely behind Maverick who comes to a stop at the driver’s side window of the cage. While they talk with Ink, I take in my surroundings. The place if fucking deserted as fuck. Outdated signs pollute the area advertising construction projects that never came to fruition. It’s a good place to hide out. A better place to kill. No one around for miles.
The rear lights on the van die, and Ink emerges from behind the wheel. On Maverick’s command, we all pull in a parking lot that houses what appears to be an abandoned commercial building of some kind. He dismounts and makes his way toward us, pointing to the chain link fence behind the factory. Off in the distance I can make out a couple of run-down houses. He singles out one, revealing that’s where the kids are being held and that he has found a point of entry. He’s just not sure what we’ll find once we get inside.
With that, we divide and conquer. I’m saddled with Bishop, Mav, Silver, and Chains. My time overseas has me leading the charge, making sure we blend into our surroundings and go unnoticed as we make our way to where Ink waits in the rear of the house while the rest of our entourage heads for the front of the house.
Reaching Ink, he holds up his hand, signaling for us to be quiet as he points to a window, one of which he’s pried a piece of plywood from. The plan is to go in through the window, and while it’s not a small window by any means, it’s gonna be a tight fit, especially for Ink. The motherfucker is huge.
But since the guy has been sitting on these bastards—no pun intended—for hours, he’s the first one to climb through and he does it with ease.
Following his lead, we make our way inside, and the second we do, our boots hit water. I don’t know if it’s a busted pipe or what, but the whole fucking thing is flooded. The only thing on our side is the fact that the floor is carpeted. Still, we need to keep our movements controlled before we get made.
Ink pulls out a small flashlight and he points it in the direction of a staircase that sits at the far left of the basement. We make our way over there, and the closer we get the sound of muffled voices becomes louder. Two guys are going on and on about needing to have their cocks sucked, and suddenly there’s a dire urgency to get these kids to safety.
Chains, being the lightest, is elected to make his way up the stairs first. They don’t look all that sturdy, and the last thing we need is for one of us to fucking fall through the boards and get caught before we got eyes on the kids.
When we finally make it to the top of the stairs, Chains turns to Silver who gives him the green light to reach for the doorknob, but as soon as he goes to turn it, the fucking knob comes off. A thud sounds from the other side of the door, and Chains bites out a curse.
“Fuck it.”
Pushing open the door, he drops to one knee and cocks his gun, firing into the living room. We rush in behind him, our guns drawn. My finger itches to pull the trigger, but I remind myself that there are lives at stake and I gotta play this smart. Maverick follows Chains, and I move in step with Bishop as Silver turns away from the kitchen area, leading us toward another darkened room. The stench coming off it is crippling, but when you’ve lived in caves for weeks on end, you learn to deal with it.
Suddenly Ink steps around me, pointing his tactical flashlight around the dark room. He’s about to lower his hand with the light, when Bishop gasps and that’s when my eyes connect on the boy. Ink quickly redirects the flashlight, illuminating Connor’s battered face, but it doesn’t register that we’re the good guys. Hell, the kid doesn’t even acknowledge his father.
A shrill scream rips from the back of his throat as he uses his body to shield Silver’s niece. Bishop rushes into the room, and Connor’s eyes finally connect with his. His body goes slack, giving the girl room to lift her head. As both kids reunite with their guardians, I take in their appearance, noting that Connor seems to have taken the brunt of the physical abuse.
My chest tightens at the sight, and I become temporarily paralyzed.
Silver brushes past me, dropping beside Bishop. He reaches for his knife, slicing through the zip ties that bind both kids. Once they’re free, Bishop wraps his arms around his son, and Silver draws his niece against his chest.
Ink nudges me and I finally snap out if it, making my way toward Bishop. I lower my gun so I don’t spook the kid.
“I don’t mean to be that guy, but we need to get a move on.” My eyes cut to Connor. “You good to walk, kid?”
Pulling out of his dad’s embrace, he stares at me. “Yeah.” Then he glances back at his dad. “You’re gonna make these fuckers pay, right?”
Bishop’s jaw ticks. “Already on it, son.”
Connor glances over his shoulder, his eyes connecting with Silver’s niece. They went through some shit, and that has a tendency to bond people in ways others don’t quite understand. But judging by the way he stares at her, it’s deeper than that. The kid is going home to New York with bruises on his face and a battered fucking heart.
Maverick appears in the doorway, and I tear my gaze away from the father and son duo.
“Take the kids out of here. We got some business that needs handling, and I’m thinking it’s only fair that Bishop and Silver do the honors.”
Chains enters the room and goes to take the girl, while I escort Connor out. Ink clears the way, leading me through the rickety house. As we pass the living room, I spot the two corpses spread out across the floor. Next to them are two men on their knees. The barrel of Ghost’s gun digs into the temple of one guy, and Flint has the other in a chokehold. I go to shield Connor from the view, but I’m too late. His eyes are pinned to the two dead bodies.
“Let’s go,” I urge, nudging him to follow Ink out the door.
“Is it bad to say I wish I was the one who killed them?”
Considering his question, I stare at him for a beat.
There’s no point in telling him that he shouldn’t think things like that. That he should try to stay a kid for as long as possible. He’s got his daddy’s blood.
“No, kid. It’s your right.”
Just like it will be my child’s right.