Chapter Nineteen
Dagger
Keeping my shit together while watching Elise being driven out of the clubhouse gates was the hardest thing I’d ever had to do.
Our conversation in her room almost knocked me on my ass. Elise had finally given me a sign that I wasn’t wasting my time pursuing her, and I couldn’t have been more relieved.
Holding back from my woman had been a strain.
I’d always gone after what I wanted, at least when it came to her, so having to tamp down my base instincts around my Leesy was akin to asking me not to breathe. Having my soulmate so close but not taking her in my arms where she belonged didn’t come naturally to a man like me. I was an MC prez, used to making snap decisions and acting on them at the speed of lightning. Slowing my roll wasn’t something I was used to doing.
The brake lights came on briefly as Shotgun slowed the car, waiting for the other vehicles full of women and kids to catch up.
I watched Fender lean into the passenger seat of Maze’s vehicle and kiss his wife Ashley goodbye one last time before standing back and watching them drive away.
Fuck, this was hard. Leesy leaving, and watching my boys have to say goodbye to their women and kids was soul- destroying. Fender and Ashey had been together since high school. He’d be lost without her.
Finally, all three cars turned onto the main road.
It was typical. Elise and I had finally discussed a way forward, and then I had to put her in a car and watch her drive away from me.
Our timing was terrible, but wasn’t that usually the case with us?
I jumped slightly as a hand landed on my shoulder and squeezed. “Well, that’s us getting DoorDash for the foreseeable.”
I turned to Abe, and my lips quirked. “We must be fuckin’ touched sending ‘em away.”
Abe nodded thoughtfully, his stare going to where the cars had disappeared. “I’m startin’ to think the same thing.” He sighed, his eyes sliding to mine. “You and Elise looked cozy. You have a breakthrough?”
“Yeah,” I murmured. “We gotta couple of things sorted out. Still gotta long way to go, though.”
“Rome wasn’t built in a day, Dagger. It’s like you say to your boys: nothing worth having comes easy. Take a leaf outta your own book, brother.”
I gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Just bad timing is all. I finally get somewhere, and she has to take off for her own damned safety. It’d be good for somethin’ to go easy for once, Abe, especially when it comes to me and Leesy.”
“Seems to me you’ve waited thirty years for this, John,” he relayed. “Another week won’t kill ya.”
I grinned. “Yeah, it won’t. I’ll call her and chat; that way, at least, we can get used to each other again.”
Abe gave me some side-eye. “Look at us assholes, pretending we’re good with sending our ol’ ladies away. We should just admit we miss ‘em already, and it feels like we’ve had a limb cut off.”
“I’m with ya there,” Cash piped up from behind us.
I craned my neck to address my eldest. “You eavesdropping?”
He cocked an eyebrow. “If I wanted to eavesdrop, I’d be listening to men more excitin’ than you two old farts whining about missing your women.”
“Get the fuck outta here,” I joked. “You’re Cara’s damned shadow. Surprised you’re not rocking in a corner, sobbing your heart out.”
“Yeah,” he admitted. “So, the sooner we get our asses into Church and get chatty with Hendrix’s men, the sooner we get our girls back where they belong. Hope the boys are in the mood to play, ‘cause if Colt thinks we’re gonna allow him to take all our potential toys away, he’s lost his damned mind.”
My lips twitched at Cash’s words.
Should’ve known he was looking for payback. He was my boy, after all, and after Bear held a gun to Cara’s head, it became personal.
I checked my watch. “We’ve still got ten minutes before the meet. Get Billy to put some coffee on. It may be a long afternoon.”
“On it,” Cash muttered, setting off for the clubhouse.
My eyes followed the good-looking bastard while my thoughts turned to what lay ahead. “Do we need to calm the men down?” I asked my bud. “They’re gung ho as fuck. This war has been a long time coming, Abe, and I’m worried they’re too damned excitable. We need to keep clear heads if we’re gonna clean up efficiently and avoid attention from the law.”
We began to walk toward the clubhouse. “They’ll settle when they get in their groove. We have to remember the majority of our brothers are soldiers. Once they morph into war mode, their military training will take over.”
“Cash and Bowie aren’t military,” I pointed out. “Maybe we need somebody to run this show who’s had tactical training.”
Abe’s head swiveled to face me. “Ya think?”
“Maybe for this operation,” I continued. “Hendrix told me his new VP was a talented lieutenant and a good tactician, and you already know he worked closely with Kit.”
“Team them up,” he advised, then catching the look on my face, he demanded, “What’s the problem?”
“Cash.” I looked up at the building. “He may not take too kindly to it. He’s ready to take over, brother. My boy has settled, thanks to Cara and Wilder. He’s got everything going for him, and I’m tired, Abe. I love the club, and I’ll always have a finger in the pie, but I wanna retire the gavel. It’s time to pass it on.”
“Then you give him his final test,” Abe stated.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “You’re right.” I grabbed the handle and pulled the door open. “But if he fails, I’m fucked until he gets his head out of his ass.”
Abe chuckled as we entered the packed bar. “Yup.”
Shouts of greeting went up from the men.
I planted my feet apart and folded my arms across my chest. “Women got away safely,” I informed them. “Are all yours covered?”
A wave of “yeahs” hit me.
Nodding my approval, I called, “We gotta meet now with Hendrix and his boys. They landed a few hours ago and are holed up at Atlas’s house on Willow Tree Street. You all okay with the plan and know your roles?”
More “yeahs” filled the bar.
“Then we start tonight.” I looked around the room, trying to catch every man’s eye. “There are no men on this earth I trust more than you. We couldn’t be closer than if we shared blood. I’d trust every single one of you with my life. This shit ends now, and then we can go on being what we are,” I grinned, “fuckin’ awesome.”
Their responding cheers and yells were so loud that they almost lifted the roof.
“Mess with a Demon?” I bellowed.
Boots stomped as fists banged on tables, and my brethren yelled their replies in perfect unison. “And we’ll raise hell.”
I nodded my approval. “As you were, brothers.” Then, I turned and made for Church.
Abe fell into step behind me as we sauntered down the corridor. “Nice speech.”
Craning my neck, I smirked. “Should’ve been a life coach. Any job where I don’t have to fuck around with evil ass bikers and traffickers seems like a career I could get down with.”
Abe laughed. “Be careful what you wish for.”
We approached Church, and Abe keyed the code into the pad on the wall. The locks disengaged, and we walked inside.
Cash and Bowie were in their seats, both typing into their cell phones with their thumbs. Bowie looked up. “Atlas went to get coffee.”
I walked over to my seat and parked my ass. “Told Billy to sort it, so he shouldn’t be long.” I checked my watch. “Where’s Breaker?”
“Takin’ a piss,” Cash muttered, eyes never leaving his phone.
I rolled my eyes. “Fuckin’ heathen.”
He grinned, still staring down at his cell.
The locks clicked, and the door opened to reveal Atlas walking inside carrying a tray. Kit followed him in and closed the door before taking his seat.
Atlas placed the tray on the table. “Now remember, our darlin’ Rissy has left for pastures new, so don’t expect this java to be anything like what we’re used to.”
“We should get one’a them professional machines for when my Iris is away,” Abe suggested, taking a mug off the tray and holding it in his hands. “You can’t go wrong with them.”
“Can we get one’a them shaky machines, too, so we can make frappé?” Atlas asked.
My nose crinkled. “What’s a frappé?”
“Heaven in a damned cup,” he replied sagely. “Swear to God; men would fight wars over a frappé.”
“It’s a girl’s drink,” Cash interjected.
“Says the bitch who’s addicted to caramel lattes,” Atlas retorted.
“Least we know why you’re a chubby ass,” my eldest threw back. “Those frappés are a moment on the lips, a lifetime on the hips.”
Atlas snarled.
Abe chortled.
Bowie and Breaker glanced at each other, smirking.
I bit back my laughter just as the iPad on the table lit up and began to beep.
Breaker leaned forward, tapped on it, and looked up at the TV. “Here we go.”
The screen lit up to reveal Hendrix sitting with a group of men who looked like a bunch of goddamned commandos and not the ones Henderson brought to my gates; these men were the real deal, wearing combat pants, khakis, and military-issue tees. The air of capability they collectively oozed made the wannabes Robert brought here look like grown-ups playing GI Joe.
Kit’s head reared back. “Whoa, LT, what the fuck have you been eatin’, small children? You’re goddamned huge.”
A big guy sitting next to Hendrix flexed the muscles in his biceps and grinned. “SPC Stone. I see you’re as skinny as ever. Don’t worry, if you work hard and eat all your broccoli, you’ll eventually grow up to be as big and strong as me, though it sucks you’ll never be as pretty.”
Atlas chuckled.
Hendrix grinned. “Blade, meet Dagger, Abe, Cash, Bowie, Atlas,” he glanced at the man beside him, “and you already know Breaker,” he muttered, turning back to the screen. “This is my VP, Blade,” he pointed out the other men as he introduced them. “My SAA, Diablo; my Treasurer, Gambit. Then we’ve got Picasso and Fletch. Diablo is our weapons expert slash street fighter; Gambit here was a commander in the UK’s SAS; Fletch is a crack shot sniper, and Picasso… Well, Picasso’s a fuckin’ shadow ninja.”
All the men chuckled at Hendrix’s descriptions while giving us chin lifts.
I nodded to all the men in turn before settling on the VP. “Blade, you worked with Kit?”
He leaned forward, elbows to knees. “Yep, whatever Snow knows about bombs, I taught him. Everything else was passed down by Sergeant Espinoza, who sadly isn’t here in person, but I’m pretty damned certain is here in spirit.”
Kit gave Blade a tight-lipped smile and a nod.
Hendrix clapped his hands together and rubbed them. “So, word on the street is that Henderson is laying low with Monica Barrington in Mapletree. Bear Rawlins is currently out for breakfast, acting as if he hasn’t got a care in the world. As we speak, the boys from the FBI are in the process of moving in. The only vehicles they’ve allowed to leave Hambleton’s town limits are the three SUVs, full of Speed Demon’s women and kids, who are bound for Rock Springs airport.” His eyes met mine. “You sure you don’t want us to cover them?”
“They’ve got Shotgun, Maze, and Reno with ‘em,” I explained. “All crack shots. Layla can shoot straight, and so can Leesy. Sophie can kill a man with her bare hands.”
“Woe betide anyone who tries.” Atlas sat straight, puffing his chest out. “My Stitch will karate chop ‘em into next week.”
Hendrix turned to his men. “Atlas’s wife is a trauma surgeon by day and a Krav Maga expert by night. You know that move with the sweep and the headbutt you all went crazy for me to teach you? It was one she taught me.”
They looked impressed.
“Sweet,” Picasso murmured, grinning at Atlas.
“Right,” Cash began. “I take it Hendrix filled you in on the plan?”
“Yeah,” Hollister stated. “It works for me, but I want in with Snow when he sets off the little hits. If you wanna piss them off enough to come for you, do it properly. Eight controlled explosions, all going off together, won’t only piss them off, it’ll also make them ride out immediately.” His gaze went to Kit. “You wanna make things go boom, Snow? Just like old times?”
Kit grinned. “I can only set four safely, which is why we planned that number, but if you want in, we can make it a party. Their compound needs to blow.”
Blade dipped his chin. “Cool. It’ll be just like old times. You, me, bombs, murder, and mayhem. Beautiful.”
All the men chuckled.
“Everyone needs to know what they’re doin’ and where they need to be,” Blade relayed, his eyes catching Kit’s. “Think back to your missions, Snow. We used to quiz you until you knew your timings as closely as your objectives. It wouldn’t hurt to go over the plan with your men a few times. You need minimum effort, maximum impact.”
“You got something specific in mind?” Kit asked.
“Yeah,” he muttered. “Think back to the bridge. If those fuckers need to get somewhere, block their route. As far as I can ascertain, there are two roads they can take into your turf. Make it difficult for them.”
Kit grinned. “I remember.”
Cash looked between his brother and the man on the TV screen. “How about you two get together later and work that out? Report back to me and Prez with a plan, and we can try to accommodate it. No point doing it here; we don’t know what the fuck you mean by the damned bridge, and frankly, your EOD bomb talk is a different language to the one that us mere mortals speak.” He glanced at Blade. “Can you get over here tonight on the down-low and hash it out with Breaker?”
Blade glanced at Hendrix who gave him a nod before turning back to Cash. “Sure can.”
“Look forward to meeting ya properly, VP to VP,” Cash told him respectfully. “Drix says you’ve pulled your men into line. I’d like to talk to you about that.”
Abe glanced at me and gave me a furtive wink.
I grinned at Cash proudly, and a sense of pride settled over me.
That’s my boy.
It was exactly what I needed to see from him. In the past, my boy always made shit about himself. He thought he was the best shot, the best fighter, and the smartest man in the room.
Seeing him come to the understanding that there were things he could learn from others to better his position showed me that my boy had finally grown up.
The most important job for any prez was to know when to take a step back and let the experts work shit out. Nobody knew everything, not even me, but to see Cash’s acceptance of the fact and watching how he handled it was a sight to behold.
Honestly, without Cara, Wilder, and a fuck ton of therapy, I wasn’t sure he would’ve ever got there.
Taking a mug of coffee from the tray, I took a swig before placing it back on the table. “Men. I wanna convey my thanks that you came here on short notice. Your prez has told me all about your skills, and I’m grateful you’re using ‘em to protect not what’s just ours, but now, what’s yours too. When I took over this club from my pop, it was fucked up. Over the years, I’ve recruited men like Hendrix to elevate what we are and what we’re about. I gotta say, he’s done well in Virginia. I’ve always been hesitant in opening new chapters ‘cause it’s easy to let standards slip, but it’s clear he’s excelled.”
The man called Fletch leaned forward, and his eyes slid toward my youngest. “Breaker, right?”
Kit jerked a nod.
“Blade tells us you’re married to Kitten Carmichael. Got two kids.”
“Yep,” Kit confirmed, adding, “And another one on the way.” He cocked his head. “What of it?”
“Saw her in Vegas years ago,” Fletch grinned. “Gotta poster of her on my wall wearing an itty bitty little…” his voice trailed off. “Well, you get the picture. Anyway, if I get one of the boys to post it down, will you get her to sign it for me?”
Kit’s warning growl came from low in his chest.
My eyes narrowed.
Oh, fuck no.
“That’s my daughter you’re disrespectin’, boy,” I snarled.
Hendrix slowly closed his eyes.
Diablo cursed under his breath.
Blade turned to his left, grabbed Fletch by the scruff of his neck, and stood, hauling him from his seat. “What did I tell your punk ass before we came here?” he hissed; marching Fletch away from the camera.
“Whoa, Veep, I was only having fun,” Fletch protested in the background.
I heard a door open, a muffled curse, and then it slammed shut.
“What’s goin’ on?” I demanded.
Hendrix’s lips twitched. “My VP won’t take disrespect, especially when it comes from one of his men.”
Blade appeared back on camera, taking his seat again next to Hendrix. “Sorry ‘bout that. Just had to take the trash out.” His stare slid to Hendrix, and he shook his head.
“Fuck,” Picasso muttered under his breath, glancing at Diablo.
The SAA sat back and folded his arms across his beefy chest, his stare sliding to his brother. “He’s been warned about his mouth. You don’t come to the mother chapter and dog an officer’s ol’ lady. If someone said that shit to me, I’d beat their ass.” His eyes came back to camera. “Apologies, Breaker. Fletch is a talented soldier, but he’s also got a big mouth. I’ll keep a closer eye on him.”
Breaker jerked his chin.
I gave him a nod of appreciation.
“Have you spoken to Colt?” Hendrix asked me.
“Not today. He’s movin’ in on the Sinners and watching both towns. Henderson’s holed up over in Mapletree with his new piece, so Colt will be concentrating on that area. Now we’ve sent the women and kids off, we’re quiet, at least D-Day.”
“I’ll head over there again soon,” Hendrix stated. “I like making sure the players are sitting pretty, right where they’re meant to be. Speaking of which, tell Shotgun to stay the fuck away from the town. He’s not helping matters; in fact, he’s gettin’ in my way. If I’d have had to pull him outta that bar last night, it would’ve blown my cover.” He shook his head frustratedly. “He always was a pain in my ass. I blame you for letting him get away with too much shit.”
A cold feeling washed over me. “Huh?”
Hendrix’s eyes narrowed. “You didn’t know?”
My head whipped toward Atlas. “Does his aunt still live over there?”
“Nah,” my SAA rumbled. “She moved to Fort Lauderdale a couple of years ago.”
A wave of doubt hit my chest. “Whereabouts did you see him?”
“The dive bar the Sinners used to hang in, where you met Colt. I thought he was goin’ over there to cause some shit.”
“He never said anythin’,” I muttered, confusion lacing my tone.
Grabbing his cell phone, Drix tapped on it, then looked up. “Just sent you something.”
I fished my beeping phone from my inside pocket and opened my messaging app. Staring down, my heart leaped into my throat because, sure enough, there was Shotgun, walking toward the doors of the same bar Colt and I met in when we took on Thrash and his cronies, years before.
“Lemme see,” Atlas demanded.
I turned my cell around to show him the image.
“Fuck,” he muttered. “It’s grainy, but it’s definitely him. I recognize his bike.”
“What the fuck’s he doin’ at one of their haunts?” Cash snarled, his eyes slashing toward me. “I don’t like this, Pop.”
“He wouldn’t do anythin’ crazy,” Hendrix interjected. “Surely the asshole would know I’d see him. Jeez, stop bein’ so damned paranoid.”
The air in the room turned so thick you could almost cut it with a knife.
“The men know you’re here, but we didn’t filter down the details,” Atlas told him. “We don’t advertise shit we want kept on the down-low, like Mason being there, or your recon mission. He thinks you’re set up at my place.”
My chest went so tight it was hard to breathe.
Hendrix tipped his head back. “Fuck.”
“He wouldn’t,” I denied. “Stop jumping to conclusions. He must’ve been out there doin’ something for the club. Shotgun would never…” My voice trailed off because, for the life of me, there was no reason for him to be there. Shotgun was a good soldier, but he was no leader. He was good at what he did, but Shot was more effective taking orders than giving them.
“What the fuck do ya think he was up to, Dagger?” Atlas demanded. “Shotgun’s never been the type to take the initiative. You think he’d volunteer as tribute and go smack some heads on his own time?”
“He stood by me when I fought Colt,” I reminded them. “He had my back.”
“Yeah,” Breaker snapped. “And he went down in my estimations that day, Pop. You had reason to do what you did, albeit fucked up. What the fuck did Shot have to do with it? All he showed us that day was that he’s a snake and a bully.”
“Shot’s our brother,” I insisted. “There’s no way he’d betray us.”
“Have you seen him around much lately?” Atlas questioned. “I noticed a week ago how he’d withdrawn. He used to be the life and soul of the party; now, he’s hardly ever here.”
“There’s no damned reason for him to be over at a Sinners’ hangout,” Cash pointed out. “He’s no lone wolf. There’s no way he’d swing his ass out for us.”
Blood rushed through my ears, and I closed my eyes.
“Fuck!” Kit barked. “He’s got Leesy, Soph, Kennedy, and the kids,” He jumped to his feet and headed for the corridor.
“Motherfucker!” Atlas exploded, following Kit.
“We’re on our way,” Drix barked. “We’re ten minutes closer than you. Boys. Let’s fuckin’ move,” he roared before the line went dead.
I wanted to puke, but instead, I got up from my chair and stormed out of the room and down the corridor until I hit the bar, Abe and Cash on my tail.
“There’s only one road he could have taken ‘em on,” Breaker called out.
“Fuck!” Abe spat. “Rissy’s gonna have my balls for sending her into this.”
“We’ll get ‘em back,” Atlas snarled. ‘I don’t care if I have to put a bullet in Shot’s head. He’ll fuckin’ rue the day he crossed us.”
Scenarios flickered through my head like a movie reel of Leesy lying on the side of a road, the kids injured and scared, and the other women calling out for help.
I swallowed the bile rising in my throat as I burst through the doors to the parking lot and hurried toward my bike. “Brain buckets on!” I instructed, grabbing mine from the handlebars of my bike, which was parked in my regular space. “Nobody rides without one. We’re goin’ fast, boys. Speed limits won’t apply today.”
Cash strode to his bike, parked next to mine. “Let’s move,” he bellowed.
An engine roared to life. I glanced over my shoulder to see Kit already speeding out of the compound.
I shoved my helmet over my head and pulled my chin strap tight. “Need you here, Son. One of us has gotta stay. This could be a trap, and they might attack the clubhouse.” I turned to Abe. “Please, brother, you stay, too.”
Cash opened his mouth to argue or tell me to fuck off, but I spoke first, effectively cutting him off. “I’ll deal, Son. I won’t let you down. If Shotgun’s ratted us out, I’ll bring him back for you to deal with.”
Cash’s hand went to the top of his head in despair. “Look after my woman and boy, Dad. Please.” The heel of his hand moved to his eye, and he pressed down to stop the moisture from escaping. “If they die, I’ll follow ‘em.”
“Nobody’s dying except those sick fucks,” Atlas gritted out before bellowing, “Let’s fuckin’ ride.”
The parking lot filled with roars, and without even bothering to get into formation, we shot through the gates and sped up the road leading out of town.
The clenching of my chest took my breath away, and I prayed to God that I didn’t have a damned heart attack on the side of the road.
A part of me was going crazy, thinking about what could be happening, but I still couldn’t quite believe Shotgun might be a traitor to the club. He was my brother; we’d stood side by side, fighting the good fight. Nothing could sway him over to the dark side.
Could it?
My thoughts went back to the day I forced Colt into the ring.
I remembered that same morning, storming out of Colt’s room and going straight to the bar where Shot sat drinking coffee with some other brothers. He took one look at me and could tell by my expression that something had gone down.
My voice was hoarse when I told them about our brother and Freya. Then, the second I told him Colt was a Fed, he snarled. The other brothers were pissed, and rightly so; one of our own had been lying to us for months, but Shotgun seemed to take it personally. It was Shot who suggested taking something into the ring that would knock Colt on his ass.
And I did it gladly.
Even after the shit hit the fan, I never blamed Shotgun for any of it. It was my decision, and I took responsibility for it. But thinking back, Shotgun stood at my back, whispering shit about how a real MC prez would deal with betrayal.
Did it influence my decision? No. My intent was always to beat Colt’s ass in the ring.
Did he encourage it? Yes, he loved every damned destructive minute of it.
And I had to ask myself why.
Colt had always been good to the brothers. He came from money and helped the club and brothers out countless times, even Shotgun. So why would Shot want to see me beat his ass?
Where was his loyalty?
What had Colt done to make Shotgun want him beat to shit?
I thought back, wracking my brain for a sign or anything that would explain what Cash, Breaker, and Atlas were so adamant about.
After the fight, Shotgun started to act like the big man, milking the attention he got for standing by my side and acting as my second. He went too far one day, disrespecting Atlas when my SAA gave him an order. I had to call him in my office and tell him a few home truths, which he didn’t take kindly to.
That day seemed to be the catalyst for Shotgun pulling away from the club. I understood, Shot had his pride, so when I called him in and told him in no uncertain terms that if he spoke to Atlas like a cunt again, it’d be him in the ring getting a beatdown, I expected him to lick his wounds.
Except that was months ago, and instead of getting over it, Shot withdrew more.
Something slithered through my gut, weaved up my chest, and into my throat.
Swallowing it down, I concentrated on the road ahead, clearing my mind and getting into fight mode, because one thing was for sure…
If Shotgun hurt our women, he was a dead man walking.