Chapter Twenty-Three
Dagger
The sun still hadn’t risen when we drove through the gates of the compound at five A.M. the next morning. I pulled into a parking space and cut the engine before clicking my seat belt off and turning to Elise.
“Remember what I said, baby,” I murmured, taking her hand in mine. “First sign of trouble, I want you to take the women and kids and get down the Cell.”
She twisted in her seat until she rested on her side, facing me, and nodded slowly. “Please be careful, John.”
The reassuring grin I gave was fake because I didn’t feel reassured whatsoever. In fact, my guts were churning, and my chest felt tight. Nevertheless, I waved a nonchalant hand and told her, “We’ll be fine, baby. Look at who we’re dealing with. Those assholes haven’t got two brain cells to rub together. Bear’s not even there, according to Colt, so it should be an easy cleanup.”
Elise’s pretty green eyes narrowed. “Where’s Bear?”
“If he’s got the sense he was born with, he’ll be in Mexico by now,” I muttered.
“That’s just it,” she argued. “He hasn’t got a lick of sense. The last thing you should do is get complacent. These are dangerous men. They’ll kill at the drop of a hat, and I’m certain they won’t want to lose the money their sick business brings in. Desperate people do desperate things; please don’t forget that.”
I leaned closer until our foreheads were almost touching. “I’ve got it covered, baby. You gotta trust me. There’s no scenario I haven’t gone over and planned for. This is where my military trainin’ comes in. I was a good soldier, and I never let my skills get rusty. We’ve got the edge on them ‘cause we’re trained in war; they’re scrappy, hotheaded motherfuckers. There’s shit happenin’ behind the scenes that I can’t divulge, but you gotta relax, babe. I got it covered. I wouldn’t leave my club or you out there swingin’.”
Elise’s eyes warmed, and one side of her mouth curved. “I know.”
“You trust me?” I asked, dipping my chin.
“More than anyone,” she whispered.
My hand raised to cup her jaw. “When this is over, we get serious. I wanna spend all our time together, doin’ all the stuff we missed out on; maybe go on vacation to a beach somewhere. I need to get Bear and Henderson outta the way, so I need all my focus to do that. But there’ll be a break in the clouds soon, Leesy. Sun’s gonna shine all the good shit down on us. You ready for it?”
She burrowed her cheek into my hand. “I can’t wait.”
My eyes fixated on her soft, pink, pillowy bottom lip, and I swiped my thumb across it. “That’s my girl.”
Her pretty greens lowered to stare at my mouth, and slowly, like a magnet pulling in both directions, our faces moved closer.
Her jasmine scent enveloped me, and my heart swelled in recognition.
This was my Leesy, my beautiful girl. Somehow, we’d gravitated back together, and my soul sang with our closeness. I’d been starved of her for so long; having her back like this made me goddamned giddy.
Our lips were so close I could feel the warmth of her soft breaths. The air around us enveloped me like a warm hug. It was natural, so right, and so us that my gut settled just for having her in my arms, the same way it did more than thirty years before on that beautiful night in San Diego—the last time we were this close.
Our lips touched, and she sighed against my skin; then suddenly, my door flew open, and a loud—and angry—voice boomed, “What the fuck’s goin’ on here?”
We jumped apart as if an explosion had been set off.
“Aren’t you a bit old to be makin’ out in cars?” the same voice demanded.
Slowly, I closed my eyes and heaved a breath before craning my neck and glaring at Atlas. “Speak for your fuckin’ self, asshole.”
“You got nearly twenty years on me,” he muttered, his face twisting. Black eyes slashed angrily toward Elise. “What goddamned time do you call this, young lady?”
She let out a squeak like she was trying not to giggle. “Five-ish?” she sassed.
One bushy black eyebrow cocked. “You givin’ me lip?”
She winced. “Maybe a little. But if you hadn’t interrupted and got all growly, I’d be giving John lip right about now.”
I let out a snort.
Atlas’s mouth thinned, then folded his beefy arms across his wide chest. “Stitch is inside. Needs you to watch Reno while she grabs an hour’a shut-eye.”
Elise’s eyes narrowed. “Are you sure?”
An innocent look stole over my SAA’s face. “Would I lie to you?”
Elise’s lips twisted. “Hmm.” She turned to me. “I better go inside.”
Leaning forward, I tucked her hair behind her ear and kissed her cheek, murmuring, “Thanks for a good night, baby.”
She beamed. “I’m the one who should be saying thank you.” She turned toward the door.
“Wait!” I ordered.
Leesy’s head whipped around to face me. “What?”
I threw my door open, jumped down from Bessie, and rounded the hood. Then, grabbing the handle to Leesy’s door, I pulled it open and offered her my hand.
Atlas held his hand to his mouth and coughed, “Suck up.”
I helped Leesy down and turned to my brother. “Have you got nothin’ better to do than stand there yankin’ my goddamned chain?” I slid an arm around my woman’s shoulders.
He pondered that for a minute. “I can honestly say, no, I haven’t, and anyway, who gave you permission to take my ma out until five A-fuckin’-M?” He leaned forward, getting in my face. “You, Prez, are skatin’ on thin ice. Me and my ol’ lady are still discussin’ if you’re worthy. Until we come to an agreement, my ma’s off-limits to you.”
I grinned, pulled my hand back, and gave Leesy a gentle swat on the ass. “Go inside, baby. I gotta lay a few out for my SAA.”
Elise shook her head good-naturedly. “When you two have finished your pissing contest, make sure you both come and say goodbye before you ride off to war on your metal horses.”
I turned my face and kissed the top of her head. “Won’t be long.”
She looked between us briefly. “I’ll make sure there’s fresh coffee,” she murmured before turning on her heel and sashaying toward the clubhouse, her ass swinging as she went.
My cock gave a jump for the hundredth time that night. I reached down and adjusted the crotch of my jeans.
“Do you fuckin’ have to?” Atlas cried, his hands going to his neck while he balked. “Jesus Christ, I just threw up in my mouth a lil’ bit.”
“I may not have fucked for a while, At,” I drawled. “But my dick hasn’t dropped off. All night, she’s been getting me hard. I swear to God, I thought my cock would punch through my jeans at one point.”
Atlas coughed, his eyes watering. “Shut the fuck up,” he spat.
I smirked. “I’m fifty-five, not five hundred. The little soldier still stands to attention, brother.”
Atlas bent double and balked again.
“So, do I get your blessing?” I asked, clapping his shoulder. “Not that it matters; I’m prez, and I do what I want, when I want. Sophie’s my girl, and Leesy’s her mother. It’s only right we get it together. Been a long time comin’, bro.”
Atlas stood straight, his black eyes squinting. “Rules is rules.”
“I’m prez,” I reminded him. “I make the rules, and I break ‘em, too.”
“Oh, I get it,” he drawled. “One rule for you, one for everybody else.”
I chuckled. “Yep.” Atlas opened his mouth to say something, but I cut him off. “We need to talk business. The boys’ll be arriving to ride out soon.” I jerked my thumb toward the clubhouse. “You been down the basement to get weapons and ammo?”
A slow grin spread across his face, and he rubbed his hands together excitedly. “Yip. Got somethin’ special to take with us, too. I may or may not have gotten my grubby hands on an AT4.”
My head reared back. “How the fuck did you get an anti-tank missile system.”
He shot me a wink. “She came all the way from France, called her Antoinette, Nettie for short, and she’s all shiny and pretty. Can’t wait to get the sexy bitch on my shoulder and watch their clubhouse go boom.”
I scraped a disbelieving hand down my face. “Jesus Christ. This is supposed to be a stealth mission, Atlas, not Call of fuckin’ Duty. AT4s are designed to take down tanks, small planes, and helicopters. If we fire that fuckin’ thing, we’ll take out half of Mapletree.”
Atlas grinned. “Yip.”
“We’re goin’ in covert,” I stated. “Are you fuckin’ crazy?”
The door of the clubhouse slammed at my back, and Atlas’s stare settled over my shoulder. “Yo, Break, come ‘ere.”
I glanced over my shoulder to see my youngest boy sauntering toward us.
“You two havin’ a fuckin’ seniors’ meetin’?” he called over. “We’re tryin’a sort out who’s taking what weapons, and you two are out here gossiping like bitches.”
“I’m claimin’ the AT4,” Atlas yelled, his eyes shining,
Breaker approached us, deadpanning. “I told ya, Atlas. You can’t take a goddamned AT4 on a covert mission. As far as I’m aware, the Sinners don’t have tanks and birds. If you let that motherfucker off, you'll blow up half of Mapletree.”
“That’s what I said,” I interjected.
Breaker jerked his thumb toward Atlas, his eyes on me. “He thinks he’s the fuckin’ Terminator.”
“Do not,” Atlas countered.
“Not arguing with ya,” Breaker declared. “If you don’t go inside and pick out what you need, the others will get the good hardware, and then you’ll whine ‘cause you’ve missed out.”
“No fucker’s getting my AT4,” he argued.
I tipped my head up, cursed under my breath, and dipped my chin to study my SAA. “Told ya. We’re not takin’ a fuckin’ AT4 on a stealth job.”
“But—”
I slashed a hand through the air. “No.”
Atlas waggled his eyebrows. “How about we do a trade? Let me take the AT4, and I’ll let you take my ma on a date.”
Breaker barked a laugh. “You’d sell your mother-in-law off for a mini-rocket launcher? You really are a special kind of asshole.”
“Wouldn’t accept anyway,” I lied. “Leesy’s worth more than that.” I nodded toward the clubhouse. “We better get in there. I wanna go over the plan one last time.” I made for the building, Kit and Atlas falling into step beside me. “How ‘bout I set you up with my M4?” I asked Atlas.
His eyes slashed to mine and widened comically. “Really?”
“Yeah, if you stop jabbering about that damned AT4,” I muttered.
“Right,” Atlas crowed. “I officially authorize you to take my ma-in-law out on one date, but you gotta get her home at a reasonable time.”
“Jesus, At,” I exclaimed, shaking my head. “I’m offerin’ you an M4 carbine. Is it not worth a date and an early mornin’ walk of shame?”
Breaker chuckled.
“Fucker,” Atlas barked. “Thought we were doin’ a deal here.”
“Right.” I looked at him disdainfully. “’Cause Elise would love us doing that particular exchange. Her for a fuckin carbine.”
The door opened again, and Bowie appeared at the threshold. “Come on!” he called over. “There’ll only be slim pickings left soon.”
As if on cue, the faraway sound of bikes roaring in the distance filtered through the air.
“That’s the boys on their way in,” Atlas announced. “Bo’s right; they’ll descend on the good stuff like a swarm of locusts. Let’s get our asses inside.”
We approached the entrance at the same time as the brothers rode into the parking lot.
Bowie held the door open for us, and one by one, we filed inside the bar, making our way across the room and hitting the corridor that housed the stairs to the basement room where we kept the weapons.
“Put everythin’ in the plastic container and wheel it up to the bar,” I ordered, taking the steps down. “Put ammo in there, too.” I punched some numbers into the electronic keypad on the wall, waiting for the click before shoving my shoulder onto the heavy door and pushing hard, using my body weight.
Fumbling on the wall, I clicked on the light switch and smiled as the room lit up like the sky at dawn.
This was where we kept weapons and cash. A large safe containing almost a million dollars in bills sat in the corner of the room. It was impressive, but in my opinion, it wasn’t as cool as the wall-to-wall weapons the club had accumulated over the years.
We didn’t deal in guns anymore, but that didn’t mean we didn’t buy them, and buy them we did—a lot. We possessed an array of weapons, from a one-hundred-and-fifty-year-old Winchester to a 2022 US Army-issue Sig XM250 light machine gun and everything in between.
I knew exactly what direction I needed to head in. Turning right, I walked to the wall, where two M24 sniper weapon systems shone like beacons of light. My hand reached for the first one, along with the speed loader and magazine, which had been disconnected. After I hooked everything up, I loaded the mag until it was full and clicked it into place on the rifle before moving to the next one and doing the same.
By the time I’d loaded my weapons, the plastic container was mostly full. Atlas grabbed all our ammo and added it to the cart. “Wheel it up,” he ordered, making his way to the door and holding it open to let Bowie, Cash, and Breaker through with the cart.
The year before, I’d given the go-ahead for a slope to be built so we could wheel the weapons up to the bar easier than running up and down stairs with armfuls at a time. It was Abe and Iceman’s idea after the first time the Sinners paid us a visit.
It meant that we were back in the bar within minutes, ready to hand out weapons to the boys who were arriving in a steady stream. We were heading out twenty-five strong; all the men experienced in battle as a result of their military careers. The rest were staying here with Cash and guarding the clubhouse while we were out.
We aimed to be gone for two hours at most, and our objective was to ensure that by the time we rode back into the compound, the Sinners, as a collective, no longer existed.
The low hum of chatter and the occasional chuckle cut through the room as the men picked their weapons of choice and filled their pockets and saddlebags.
Arrow glanced toward the corner of the room, and his eyes lit up. “Where did ya get the AT4 from?” he asked.
I waggled my eyebrows. “You know about ‘em?”
A slow grin split his face. “Fired a couple in my day. They’re fuckin awesome pieces of kit. They’ll take a small aircraft down.”
I chuckled. “Yep.”
Atlas huffed frustratedly. “Still don’t know why I can’t take it with me.”
Arrow’s head reared back. “Brother. They’re not exactly discreet, plus, you’ll blow yourself up if you don't know how to use it.” He nodded toward the equipment. “It’s too heavy for a bike anyway. Imagine strapping that motherfucker to your back? You’d topple over.”
Atlas scratched his chin, his eyes glued to the AT4. “I guess…” his voice trailed off.
I gave Arrow big eyes, then moved to the middle of the room, stuck my thumb and forefinger in my mouth, and let out a loud, piercing whistle.
The hum of murmurs turned to silence.
“We all got what we need?” I yelled.
Shouts of “Aye” and “Yeah, Prez” rang out.
“We all know our positions and our roles?” I inquired loudly.
More calls of agreement.
I shoved the magazine into my Glock, hauled both bags containing my M24s onto my back by their straps, and nodded toward the parking lot. “Let’s fuckin’ roll.”
A collective cheer went up, and my brothers headed toward the doors. We filed outside and headed toward our bikes, clapping each other on the shoulders and wishing each other good luck.
An engine roared from the gates and I craned my neck to see Blade ride in to join us.
I gave him a loose salute and threw my leg over the saddle. Then, I switched my engine on, and grabbed my brain bucket from the handlebars, marveling at the smell of gas and leather permeating the air. The pop-pop-popping of Harley engines rose through the crisp early morning air like a dawn chorus, which, to my ears, was far more beautiful than any birdsong in existence.
The smile on my face mirrored the swell in my heart.
I loved the life, and I loved my brethren, but soon my involvement would be limited to club rides and family cookouts. As much as I knew I needed something more than retirement, I recognized the club was a lot. There was so much I wanted to do and see, and I needed Leesy by my side to do that. The choice was surprisingly easy but still unsurprisingly poignant.
A flash of movement caught my eye.
My stare lifted to see the ol’ ladies filing through the doors of the clubhouse, their arms filled with kids.
Leesy was the second woman out after Iris. Sophie and my boys’ ol’ ladies followed them. My woman held one of the twins in her arms, and my heart clenched with both admiration and a touch of melancholy.
I would've given up every possession I owned to see my woman’s belly swollen with my baby. I would've worshipped the Gods for eternity if they’d given me and Leesy a piece of that beauty. Sophie was living proof of what a protective mother Leesy was, so it was a travesty that we never got to raise a kid. They would’ve been the luckiest child in the goddamned world to have a mother as loving as her.
Still, all wasn’t lost. We had a million grandbabies to spoil, and we’d have a lot of fun doing it. We’d make the most of the blessings we had, and I’d move mountains to make everything up to her.
I’d fill that child-sized hole in her chest if it were the last thing I did.
Leesy’s pretty green eyes locked onto mine, and she mouthed, Be careful.
I shot her a wink and a cocky grin, mouthing back, Always.
The revving of engines got louder, indicating the men’s impatience.
Steering my bike, I slowly rode toward the gates and pulled to a stop, waiting for the boys to get into position.
Breaker, our road captain, had decided we’d ride in double formation, with him at the front to the left of me, Atlas and Blade behind us, then Bowie and Abe. Patched members took our six in twos, makin’ the line about twelve bikes long and around twenty-five men strong. The growled revving of bikes rose to a deafening crescendo, the men’s way of letting their Road Captain and Prez know that they were ready to rumble.
Breaker craned his neck and looked back down the line. Then, his arm went up in the air, and his finger twirled. Hollers went up, and we slowly rode through the gates and onto the main road, where we turned off, taking the back roads to avoid town.
We were blessed to live in a part of the country that saw all four seasons. The rural setting boasted lush green fields and a lifestyle that wouldn’t be out of place in a Hallmark movie. It was late summer, and the flowers were in full bloom, emitting a heady fragrance that fed the soul.
I loved my beautiful corner of the USA, which was why I was so determined to protect what it stood for from the likes of Henderson and the Burning Sinners. Hambleton was so safe, people didn’t have to lock their doors at night and could call on their neighbors for help. I lived in a town where Sunday service was still the place to catch up with your friends and help your community.
If my boys and I wanted to be around to enjoy the fruits of our efforts, we needed to avoid being seen, which was just one of the reasons we’d left under the cover of darkness. Colt had looped our cameras from a meeting a week ago where all the brothers were in attendance. That way, if the sheriff wanted to see proof we hadn’t left the clubhouse, it was there.
My men—all experienced soldiers—were getting in the zone, which was evidenced by the air around me slowly turning from lighthearted to heavy.
I knew from experience that Kit’s zone included shedding his humanity. The only way my boy could cope with his own brutality was to alter his personality until he became a machine. I could tell he was morphing into soldier mode by the way his shoulders tensed as we rode closer to our destination. My son’s military experience may have been extreme compared to others, but it didn’t mean my other brothers hadn’t gone through their own personal versions of hell.
Asking them to fight would no doubt set some of my brothers back in their recoveries, but I knew they didn’t care. Our club’s survival was worth fighting for, and we’d all be there, for each other, in the aftermath.
The scenery became sparser as we drove past the sign for Mapletree.
Although the town neighbored Hambleton, the residents weren’t quite as affluent, which meant lower taxes and minimal upkeep. We came over here to buy a lot of our shit from the Superstore, and some of the boys had friends here, so we weren’t strangers to where we needed to go in order to be strategic with our attack.
As planned, I raised my hand and pumped my fist to indicate my intentions. Then, slowing down, I pulled off the road and motioned for the boys to pass me by.
The vibration of my brothers’ engines filled my chest with a sense of determination, and twenty-five hands raised to give me thumbs-up as they rode on by.
After waiting briefly for the roar of engines to fade, I swiveled my head toward a softly steeped hill covered in woodland about thirty meters to my right. Then, revving my engine, I turned my bike and slowly rode up the slope toward the position I’d picked to look out over the house where the Sinners were. Finally, I reached the large cluster of trees, brought my bike to a standstill, and cut the engine.
It was like I’d been cast back thirty-five years. I was so focused on the task at hand that my mind was transported back to the Kuwaiti desert. I felt the uncomfortable dry heat and the biting wind filled with grains of sand whipping my cheeks raw.
I booted my kickstand on and reached toward my back, shrugging off the black tubular-shaped weapons bags I’d transported my M4s in. Crouching to the ground at my vantage point, hidden by a dense patch of foliage, I unzipped the carriers and pulled out the rifles, the long-range sights, and silencers, and clicked everything together in such a familiar way, it was as if I did it every day of my life.
Cracking my neck from side to side, I licked my finger and held it in the air while looking up at the trees and noting which way the leaves blew before hunkering down on my front.
It took about forty seconds to calculate the trajectory of my bullets, wind speed and direction. It was like riding a bike— excuse the pun —my sniper training thirty-five years ago was so intense it was still like second nature.
Thank God.
For the last time, I checked the ammo on both rifles before pulling one into position and aiming it at the house before me.
My eyes slashed right at the movement of my brothers approaching the house on their bikes, riding in like the goddamned calvary.
I made myself breathe slow, quiet, and steady, listening to the air whipping hard around my ears, whispering directions. My racing heart began to thud steadily, the adrenaline in my veins making the world around me shrink inward to a small point of tunnel vision that only existed through the sight of my rifle.
And I waited.