Chapter 21
DRIFTER
“Yo, Drift,” Goose called out. “Didn’t know you were on tonight.”
“Filling in for Skid.”
“Ah, that’s right. He’s got that thing with Bay and the kid.”
“What about you? Are you heading out or going in?”
“Oh, I’m outta here.” He motioned his head toward the parking lot. “I gotta try to make it home before Pres goes to bed, or she’s gonna have my ass tomorrow.”
“Better get at it then.”
“Yeah, you boys have a good night.” He started for his bike as he said, “Try not to let the place go to shit without me.”
“I’ll do my best.”
I went inside, and I was impressed by how busy the place was on a Tuesday night. But thankfully, it looked to be a fairly tame crowd as I made my way over to my post. Grim was already there, keeping an eye on the movement of the crowd. I stepped up beside him and began surveying the crowd.
I hadn’t been there long when he leaned in and said, “Front left corner.”
I glanced over at the corner, slow and casual, like I wasn’t looking for anything in particular, and immediately spotted a guy wearing a black hoodie that was pulled down just enough to shadow most of his face.
He was sitting alone with a beer he’d barely touched, and he had his eyes on the stage, watching one of the dancers as she twirled around the pole.
At first glance, he looked like a loner out looking for a good time, but the more I looked at him, the more I realized that wasn’t the case. He had his phone in his left hand, and it was angled just enough to make it look like he was just checking something.
But he wasn’t.
The asshole was recording, and not just the stage. He was recording the doors, the bar, and the brothers at their various posts. He was doing his best not to get caught, but he wasn’t as slick as he thought.
I could feel the tension radiating off Grim as he asked, “He look familiar?”
I studied the guy a little longer, trying to catch anything that might give him away, but the lighting wasn’t great. And that damn hood kept most of his face covered. “I don’t know, man. I can’t…”
The guy adjusted in his seat, and his sleeve pulled back when he reached for his beer. That’s when I saw it. A black coyote howling at the moon tattooed on his forearm. Damn.
“Hold up.” I tried to keep my voice low as I told him, “Check the forearm.”
It only took him a second before he said, “I knew it… That fucker’s one of them.”
“I’d bet everything he’s a scout.”
Grim nodded, then took a step forward. “Easy, killer. We need to play this safe.”
“Fuck that. This asshole came into our territory, and…”
“You’ve got a hell of a crowd here, brother.” That stopped him in his tracks. “It’d be better to hold off until he tries to leave. We could follow him and see where he leads us.”
“Fuck that. I don’t need him to lead me anywhere,” he growled. “Once I get my hands on him, I’ll get him to tell us everything we need to know.”
I looked back at the guy, watching the way he moved the phone to record every angle of the Vault. This wasn’t just some stupid prospect sent in to get intel. This guy had done this shit before.
While he wasn’t crazy about the idea, Grim stayed put, but I could see his restraint waning every time the guy moved. We let him sit there a while longer, letting him think he was in the clear, and then he stood.
He didn’t rush. He picked up his beer and took one last sip before making his way toward the exit.
That’s when we moved. We weren’t showy about it.
We moved with purpose, blending in with the people coming and going, and as we drew closer, Grim motioned to Ghost, letting him know that we might need a hand.
By the time we made it outside, the guy was already cutting across the lot, but he didn’t make it far. Ghost came rushing in from the side and rammed into him like a damn freight train, tackling him to the ground.
Grim and I grabbed his arms, wrenching them behind him before he could stop us. He was a big dude, and he did his best to put up a fight. But he was no match for us. Grim grabbed a fistful of hoodie and hauled him to his feet like it was nothing.
“What the fuck, man. I didn’t do nothing,” the guy started, panic already bleeding into his voice.
Grim didn’t give him a chance to finish. He just swung open the back door of Ghost’s SUV and tossed him inside. Once he’d slammed the door, he looked to Ghost and ordered, “Take him to the workroom.”
Ghost nodded once, then climbed into the driver’s seat. As soon as he peeled out of the parking lot, Grim slowly turned his head toward me. I knew what he was going to ask even before he said, “You wanna come give me a hand? For old time’s sake?”
I glanced back at the road Ghost had just taken.
I knew where he was taking him. I knew the rooms and what happened in them.
Hell, I’d had a couple of my own back in Kansas.
They were places where the truth didn’t come easy unless you forced it, where lines blurred, and the only thing that mattered was getting answers.
And I got them, by any means necessary.
Grim did the same. If this guy had something to say, he’d get it out of him. No doubt about it. But that time for me had come and gone. I’d put those days behind me, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to step back into them. But the boys had been good to me, especially Preacher.
I owed it to him to do all I could to put an end to these Coyotes before any real trouble came sniffing at their door. “Yeah, I’ll do whatever you need.”
Grim put a call in to Preacher while I went back inside and let Seven know what was going on. He assured me that he had things handled there and that Grim and I should do what we needed to do.
Minutes later, we were on our bikes, speeding to the clubhouse. We whipped through the gate, and Grim didn’t say much on the way to the garage.
He had multiple rooms. I’d seen them when I’d gone to the workout room.
They all had concrete floors with a drain in the center of the room, steel fixtures, and chains.
They were built for function, not comfort.
They were stocked with various tools and devices that Grim could use to extract information, and each had a two-way mirror, allowing Preacher and the brothers to monitor everything happening in the rooms.
Grim didn’t slow down until we reached the two-way glass. I stopped beside him and looked in. Ghost had already gotten our guest prepped for interrogation.
He was strung up from the ceiling with his wrists bound above his head and feet barely touching the ground. His hoodie and shirt were gone, and what was left didn’t leave much to question. He was young, maybe in his early twenties, and built like an ox.
And dude was covered in ink.
And right in the center of his chest was a black coyote with red eyes.
It was clear from his locked jaw and fierce eyes that he was pissed. He pulled against the restraints like he actually thought he could muscle his way out of them, but there was no chance of that. Ghost stood off to the side, smoking a cigarette as he watched him with a glare.
After a second, Grim pushed the door open and stepped inside. I followed behind, and there was an immediate shift in the room. The guy’s posture changed, his chin lifted, and his eyes narrowed. He wanted to look like a tough guy, but he didn’t look so tough tied up like a ragdoll.
“You better let me go,” he snarled. “And you better let me go now, or you’ll be making the mistake of a lifetime.”
Neither of us said a word.
We just stood there, glaring at him, and that seemed to spur him on even more. “You got no idea who I am… Something happens to me, and they’ll make you burn. Every last one of you.”
Grim didn’t argue. He didn’t warn him. He just stepped forward and drove his fist into the guy’s jaw. And he wasn’t gentle about it. Hell, the crack of it echoed through the damn concrete. The kid’s head snapped to the side, and his whole body swung against the restraints.
Grim stepped in close, grabbing a fistful of his hair.
He forced his head back as he barked, “Let me be clear, asshole. You’re not gonna walk away from this.
That was decided the second you came into our Vault.
The only question that remains is how you die, how your brothers die, and how much pain I’ll be dishing out today. ”
The room went still.
I knew what came next. The kid had no idea what he’d just walked into, but he was about to find out. Grim crossed his arms as he asked, “So, how ‘bout we start with your name?”
“I’m not telling you shit.”
“Yeah, yeah. We’ll see about that.”
Grim walked over and grabbed a shock device from the counter, along with a bucket of water. I’d used the same setup before, so I knew exactly how this was gonna play out.
“I should warn you… I’m running low on patience today.”
“Fuck you, man. Ain’t nothing you can do to…”
He tapped the clamp ends together, making an instant spark that was loud enough to make the boy flinch.
The current wasn’t strong enough to kill him, but it was enough to hurt like a sonofabitch.
Once Grim was sure the current was steady, he gave me the nod, signaling to me that it was time.
I dipped my hand into the bucket of water and pulled out the rag.
His swollen eyes widened with panic as I stepped over and draped it over his head. Grim took the ends of the cables and placed them against his temples. And just like that, his entire body went rigid as the current jolted through him.
Grim held it for a moment, then pulled back. As soon as his body immediately fell limp, I reached up and removed the rag from his face, and his eyes remained trained on me as I returned it to the bucket.
“Your name,” Grim demanded.
I stood there staring at him for a brief second, and when he didn’t immediately answer, I reached into the bucket again. He started jerking side to side, trying in vain to break from his restraints once again. Ignoring his attempts, I placed the rag over his head.
That’s when he finally answered, “My name is Cain!”
“That didn’t take long.” Grim lowered the cables and asked, “Know you’re a Coyote… Which chapter are you from?”
“Ah, fuck me.”
“Answer the fucking question.”
“I can’t…”
“You can and you will,” Grim growled.
“They’ll fucking kill me if I talk.”
“You’re dead either way, asshole. There’s no walking away from this, but you tell me what I want to know, and I might take it easy on ya.”
Grim’s voice was cold and unsympathetic as he continued, “But you hold out on me, and I’ll butcher you, inch by tiny inch. So, make it easier on us both and just tell me what I want to know.”
A look of defeat crossed his face when he finally replied, “The Montgomery chapter.”
“Hmm… All the way from Alabama.” Grim glanced over at me with a cocked brow. “You’re a long way from home.”
“I’m not alone.”
“Didn’t figure you were.”
Cain gathered what was left of his courage as he added, “You’re about to get yours… You don’t have the manpower to fight what we’re bringing to your door.”
“You don’t know shit about our manpower.”
“I’ve seen for myself, and I’m telling you now, when the other chapters start rolling in, you’re done… Count your days.”
That landed him another punch to the jaw.
This time, it knocked him out cold. His head fell forward, and just for good measure, Grim punched him again.
His body jerked, but that was it. Seeing that he was really out, Grim motioned his head to Ghost and me, signaling us both to follow him into the hall.
As soon as the door closed behind us, Grim looked to Ghost and said, “Find Prez and fill him in. And get with Shep. Tell him he needs to step up his game and see what he can find out about… hell, anything at this point. These motherfuckers should’ve never been able to sneak up on us like this. Not at these kinds of numbers.”
“We don’t know what numbers they have,” I interjected. “Not for certain… He could just be blowing smoke to rattle you.”
It wasn’t implausible. Men who are threatened will try anything to divert attention from themselves and make us too scared to move forward. That shit wasn’t going to happen. Grim nodded. “We’ll see soon enough.”
As soon as Ghost left to find Preacher, Grim and I headed back inside. Grim’s patience was running thin, so I wasn’t surprised when he walked over to the wall of tools and grabbed a pair of shears. Cain’s eyes widened as he gasped, “What the hell are you gonna do with those?”
“Use your imagination.”
“Oh, fuck.”
“Enough of the bullshit,” Grim growled. “How many are there?”
When he didn’t answer, Grim inhaled a deep breath and grumbled, “Have it your way.”
Grim grabbed the guy’s ankle and placed the tip of the blade between his toes. He tried to jerk it back, but Grim held his ankle tighter and warned, “Best be still, or this could get real messy.”
With that, Grim snipped off the first inch or so. As soon as the pain registered in his brain, the guy wailed out, “Oh, fuck! You cut off my goddamn toe!”
Before the guy had a chance to recover, Grim clipped the next toe, and the guy fucking lost it.
He started screaming, jerking, and twisting, sending blood flying everywhere.
When it got on Grim’s shirt, he shook his head and growled beneath his breath.
Pissed, Grim took the handle end of the shears and rammed them into Cain’s side, and I had no doubt that it had broken a rib or two.
“Goddamn! You’re fucking crazy.”
“You have no idea.”
Grim put the shears on his third toe, and before the guy even had a chance to speak, he clipped it, causing him to let out a stream of curses.
Once he settled, Grim snapped his fingers in front of Cain’s face, drawing his attention back to him.
“Running out of toes, buddy. Maybe I should go for something that means more to you.”
“Ah, fuck me,” Cain gasped. “We’ve got a scout from every chapter.”
“How many chapters?”
“Six.”
“And that’s it?”
“They have prospects with them… about ten altogether. Maybe 12.”
“Well, is it ten or twelve?”
Cain grimaced and Grim placed the blade of the shears next to his big toe. That got him to answer, “Twelve! There are twelve.”
“And where are they?”
“At an abandoned warehouse downtown… It’s a block from the clubhouse.”
“And at the clubhouse?”
“Eight.”
He didn’t say another word. He just lowered his head in shame.
He knew what was coming.
And it was coming because he’d just ratted his brothers out.