Chapter 26
I’m walking the halls of the hospital doing a loop in the middle of the night.
We’re on high alert until we know the full extent of the cartel bullshit Juan José Sanchez is going to bring our way now that we interrupted his pipeline into America.
It was only a bonus that we killed his worthless grandson Hector.
The Vipers MC were trash and needed to be plowed down.
I pass Bull when I step outside of the emergency department doors.
He’s got a lit cigarette hanging from his lips as he looks out to the parking lot.
We’ve got a total of ten brothers here watching the hospital while Sutton and little Rocky are recovering.
They’ve been here for four days and both get to go home tomorrow.
Little guy has improved leaps and bounds and gets to blow this joint early.
A lot of changes are being made at the clubhouse or I should say compound now.
Stone bought the fifty acres next to us on either side of the clubhouse.
He has one side designated for our own housing community if we want to build a home or if we want something other than just a room at the clubhouse.
We all voted in favor for it. It’ll be nice to have a place to escape if we need a reprieve from each other.
He and Crusher have a crew of a hundred men working on five homes at the moment.
It’s like our own neighborhood but secured and gated.
Ain’t no motherfucker getting past those walls.
Now that we’ve got babies coming into the mix, we need to have our property guarded so that everyone inside is shielded. No exploding homes inside our walls.
“How’s it going?” I ask, coming up behind Bull.
“Fuck, Reap.” Bull’s cancer stick falls from his lips onto the ground. “Give a man some notice or some bullshit.”
I can’t help but chuckle. “Where’s the fun in that? Gotta keep you on your toes,” I say and gaze out over the inky lot.
“Quiet as hell. Just the way we like it,” he remarks and bends down to retrieve his smoke.
“Calm before the storm,” I murmur.
With a slap on the back, I walk through the doors and move towards the front of the hospital where Twitch is leaning against the information desk. He’s drinking from a coffee mug as he sees me coming. Unlike Bull, Twitch never leaves his back open.
“Everything good?” he asks as I look around the lobby.
“So far,” I answer.
“You ever wanted that?”
“What?” I ask, not understanding the question.
“Bro…a family. Prez and Havoc make it look appealing,” he says, and it makes me burst out laughing in the empty area of the hospital.
“Says the man who refuses to keep the same woman in his bed every night,” I rat him out.
He scoffs like I didn’t just tell the truth.
“I’m just saying,” he tries again.
“Nah, we got too much heat on us to have that. Raegan and Sutton will always be a target.”
“So you never thought you’d get married or stay with a woman long enough to plan a future together?”
My spine straightens as a face flashes across my mind. One that I’ve tried for years to keep buried.
“I went to jail at sixteen and spent twelve long fucking years behind bars,” I remind him. “No, no one comes to mind,” I lie. “Stay alert,” I say then walk off.
The last thing I need is to wander down memory lane.
It never did me any good back then, and it sure as hell isn’t gonna do me any favors now.
She’s probably married with two point five kids and a dog inside a white picketed fence.
The last thing I need is her invading a space I’ve worked so hard to carve her out of.
Heading towards the back of the building, I don’t see Ink anywhere to be found.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand up and put me at attention.
Walking over to the door he’s supposed to be guarding, I carefully open it, and take a peek outside.
Down by the curb, I see movement. Ducking through the door quietly, I stick to the cement wall careful with my steps.
The sound of men speaking hurriedly has me moving faster.
“Tell your little boss that death is coming,” a thick Spanish accent states and has me pulling my weapon from the inside of my cut.
The sound of moaning then snap, snap, snap, fill the hot Texas night.
I’m right in position with my gun aimed when my foot steps on a soda can crunching the metal and exposing me.
I duck as the men point without a target and start shooting in the general direction of where the sound came from.
I wait a brief second before returning fire and hit one.
They rush over to the car as I pepper the vehicle, shattering the windows.
The car takes off, and I have no bodies to make an accurate identity of who they were.
I have a pretty good idea but nothing to confirm it.
Once the car is around the corner, I rush over to who I suspect is Ink.
“What happened, Brother?” I ask as I crouch down checking him for injuries.
“Heard something and left to check it out,” he says wheezing. “Got jumped. They were dragging me to the curb.”
I look and see a smear of red down the sidewalk where I’d just come from.
“Did they say who they were?” I question as I open his cut to check his chest for bullet holes or stab wounds.
On his chest is an envelope stapled to his skin.
“This is gonna hurt,” I say right before I yank the document off his body.
His voice wails in the silence of the night as I pull out my phone and press the call button. Bull answers right away. “Yep.”
“Tell Diesel to get to the back of the hospital by the cafeteria and bring a wheelchair. Ink was attacked by three of Sanchez’s men,” I order.
“Got it,” he says hanging up.
“Hold on, Brother, we’ll get you patched up,” I say and hold the brown envelope that I assume has a message for us.
Not waiting to notify Prez or Havoc, I tear open the contents. The note is handwritten and signed by the Colombian drug lord himself.
I’m coming for your bloodline and anyone else you’ve ever been connected to.
I will have a Son for a Son.
Juan José Sanchez
Her face flashes before my eyes. A look that haunts me. The last time I saw her was when I was being arrested. Then a reel of memories I’ve locked up for over a decade come flooding back. A chill runs down my spine, and I can’t shake the pit at the bottom of my stomach.
Diesel shows up, and we work to get Ink to the ER on the other side of the building. Once he’s settled, I make a call that I’ve thought about a million times but refused to give into until now.
“Hello?” a groggy voice answers.
“I need you to find someone for me,” I tell Hawk.
Continue this ride and see what happens next with…