Chapter 26
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SIX
Flyboy
I make my way into church seeing that everyone is in attendance but Coin, who is still in the hospital. I knew us being called back wasn’t good, and by the look on the faces of Steel, Razor, and Smith, I know that whatever they’ve got to say, isn’t going to be anything I want to hear. I take my seat, crossing my arms on top of the table, waiting for this to get started. Steel drops the gavel on the table, bringing us to attention.
“There are several things that we need to go over. First, we’re going to start with Smith, tell us what Theo was able to find.”
Smith leans back into his chair, crossing his arms across his chest. “At first, he wasn’t able to find much more than Razor was able to until he caught wind that the club was looking to move from drugs to girls. The Irish and Russians out of Vegas are still working to figure out who the top player in the trafficking ring is that took their women and ours. Once he was able to get that information, it opened the club up for him to slide his way in as if interested in the same things as they are.” Smith pulls a thumb drive from his pocket, sliding it to Razor.
Razor drags it to him, sticking it into his laptop. Once it’s plugged in, files and documents start to flash onto the T.V. that’s always Bluetoothed to his laptop. Razor starts clicking through the information faster than what I ever imagined was possible. As he clicks on an image, it catches my eye, drawing all my attention to the screen.
“Wait, go back,” I insist as I point to the screen.
“What? What did you see?” Torch questions, not breaking his concentration from the screen.
“Is this the image that you’re talking about?” Razor asks, bringing the image back up for us all to see.
“Yeah! That’s it.” I lean forward, looking closer at it.
When the photo comes up again, a few of us let out a curse.
Steel turns, looking at Pretty Boy. “You’re not from Texas, correct?”
Pretty Boy looks over at the screen, his eyes go wide before narrowing. “No, I’m not. There’s no way.”
“That picture is a few years old. Is there any way that it could’ve been taken here, and she had been working with them all along?” Duck inquires.
“If she had, Razor would’ve found something on her. We had him do a deep dive on her a second time after she was hurt. Are you telling me that Razor missed something in two fucking in-depth dives?” Pretty Boy bites back.
“Fuck you, man. I’m damn good at my fucking job. I ran every check on the web and even dug into the dark web with her connection to the cartel. There is no motherfucking way that I missed her spending time in Texas, much less with those fucking asswipes!” Razor roars, getting pissed at being accused of dropping the ball.
“I mean, you’ve been slacking since—” Pretty Boy pushes intentionally, trying to get a rise out of Razor.
“You might want to be fucking careful about what you say next. I will not physically kill you.” Razor’s lip turns up into a smile that reminds us why we call him Razor to start with. “Though, I would like to see you get anything done when you’re dead on paper.”
“You’re a fucking asshole. How about I remind you what it’s like to go head to head with me again?” Pretty Boy snaps, standing from his seat.
“Pretty Boy, sit your fucking ass down. Razor, let’s move on. The girl is dead and gone, so no matter what or why she was here, it no longer matters,” Steel snaps, over the pissing contest going on.
Razor starts clicking through the information again. Though the glare he’s directing at his laptop should have it combusting into flames.
“While he does that, I’m going to let you boys in on a phone call I had earlier today.” Steel looks all of us in the face, one at a time, holding my stare just a touch longer.
“We’re not going to like this, are we?” Duck sighs, rubbing his temples.
“Not even a little.” Steel groans, leaning on his elbows that are situated on the table. “Her father, and the so called president of the Dazed Monkey MC finally fucking called me back to tell me that he has no knowledge of his son or VP being here. That, and I quote, ‘They took off when we refused to come after my dear, lost daughter.’ I wanted to punch myself in the face after that bullshit.” Steel’s eyes narrow, showing how unhappy he is about the call.
I sit up straight, disdain pouring out of me with every word I speak. “What the fuck does that asshole mean that his son and VP have gone rogue? I don’t fucking trust a fucking thing he said.”
“That’s exactly how I felt about it. I not so nicely said the same thing. What has my head fucking spinning, is the fact that he thinks I’m stupid enough that I believed him. He said that we could deal with the issues in my territory as we see fit with no blowback from his club,” Steel continues explaining.
We all explode with our own version of, “That’s fucking bullshit” because there is no way that any club is going to just turn over the president's son and his VP to another club with no questions asked. I know without a doubt that if it was one of us, Prez would rain fire down on anyone that came after a brother, Ol’ Lady, or one of the children. For this president to just be like, “It doesn’t matter,” is beyond fucked up. Unease slithers down my spine, letting me know that he is full of shit. We’ll be looking over our shoulders as long as this man, and that club, is allowed to keep breathing.
“I call bullshit. Even if those two did go rogue, there is no fucking way he would let us take them out with no consequences,” I assure them.
“I don’t buy it for a fucking second. What’s the fucking catch, Prez?” Torch inquires, unease rolling off him like the stench of a dead body.
Prez leans back in his chair with a shrug. “I don’t believe a fucking word that man had to say. I can reassure you of that. What I do suggest, is that once we deal with our current pest problem, we take a trip out west and visit our new acquaintances.”
“I think that might be the best decision you’ve ever made.” Wesson smiles, the tension in his wide shoulders not relaxing, betraying his easy going attitude. “The thing I want to know, is where exactly the current pest problem is, and why haven’t we been able to locate them yet.”
Razor’s fingers never stop their movements as he lifts his eyes with a look of pure hatred blazing inside of them. “I’ve figured out why I can’t find them, and have it narrowed down to two separate locations. I can’t confirm that they are there due to the fact that they are both on the outer edges of our territory. Both of these locations have no cameras because of the shit that goes down in those towns. We’ll have to go there in person and do some recon.”
“I’m ready to ride when you boys are,” Wesson throws out with a round of, “Hell yeahs,” accompanying his declaration.
“And what happens if we all roll out and leave our women and club unprotected?” Smith glares over at his brother.
“Fuck!” he snaps, slamming his hand onto the table. “Prez, what the fuck are we supposed to do? We can’t stay here on lockdown forever, just waiting. It’s not the way of Hell’s Sacrifice.”
Prez stands, leaning on his hands on the table. “I’m fucking aware that’s not our way. What I’ve got to think about is that in the last year, I’ve had boys kidnapped and nearly dying. I’ve had Ol’ Ladies beaten until we couldn’t recognize them. Just fucking yesterday, we nearly lost over half our mother fucking officers.” Prez slams his fist onto the table. “We’ve got to be fucking smart, because eventually, our luck is going to run out.”
He and Wesson stare each other down. We take a minute and let his words sink in. I look at him, seeing the toll that everything has taken on him. The man before me has aged in a way that rocks me to my core. Looking around the table taking in my brothers, it hits me how hard the last year or so has ravaged all of us, turning us from young men wet behind the ears, to men with blackened souls and hard hearts.
Wesson drops his eyes with a stiff nod. “Sitting on my hands is making me crazy. I need to act, to move, to get back on the streets.”
“I know, son, and we’ll get you back on the move. For now, I need you here. As soon as this shit is dealt with, you’ll be good to go,” Prez promises him.
Smith and Wesson are twins who happen to share the same personality traits. The biggest difference between the two, is that Smith likes to stay close and help take care of their mom and little brother. Wesson on the other hand, likes to be on the move, always hopping from one club to the next. He’s become the unofficial club ambassador. Going from ally to ally, keeping relations good and us in the know.
“For now, we keep doing what we do. Pretty Boy is going to stay at the hospital with Coin. When Flyboy has his surgery, Duck you’re going with him. Flyboy, you said that Avery has agreed to let Riley do your physical therapy here at the club once the pins are out?”
“Yeah. Riley asked Avery to bring her some of the things from her office to work on my leg until lockdown has been lifted.”
Prez nods looking tired. “Good! Is there anything else before we dismiss?”
“I want to nominate Prospect Noah for a full patch. He’s the longest prospect we’ve ever had since he can’t seem to keep his mouth closed. Which is something I respect out of him because we may not like that he has something to say, but when he does, it’s always the truth. Shit, most of the time it’s the kick in the ass that we need. He’s also put himself between our Ol’ Ladies and danger, never having to be asked,” I throw out, standing to my full height.
Duck grins leaning back into his chair. “About fucking time. I never thought that kid was going to get the vote.”
Torch laughs, “And why haven’t you brought it up for vote?”
“I’m the one who backed him. We all know that it means more when a brother brings it to the table than the one who backed him.” Duck shrugs.
“You are the biggest asshole of us all, you know that, right?” Pretty Boy chuckles. Hearing him chuckle and not looking so twisted up is nice to see.
“We can bring it up when we have a full house. It won't be official until Coin is here to cast his vote. Does that work for you guys?” Prez asks, bringing the jovial air in the room back to a dull roar.
Everyone agrees to do the preliminary vote. We go around the table, everyone throws out some form of, “Hell, yeah.”
“That brings us to a close. A new brother to be added as soon as Coin is home and we’ve dealt with the pest running around our town.” Prez drops the gavel, releasing us.
Pretty Boy jumps, rushing to be the first out of the door. He makes only about three steps out when he comes to a stop. He stands there staring at the person in front of him, preventing the rest of us from leaving church. Pretty Boy doesn’t speak, just stands there before moving around the person who was blocking him. When he finally moves, Torch's voice causes that feeling of rage inside of me to heighten to new levels. I just told her that I wouldn’t let anyone else hurt her again, and here she is scared out of her fucking mind.
“What’s wrong, Riley?” Torch’s shoulders go tight.
“They were here.” Riley is in hysterics as she shoves her phone into Torch’s hand. “They threatened the club.”
Torch grabs the phone from her, looking at whatever is on the screen. Torch’s jaw flexes before he lifts his eyes searching for someone. The rage that appears on his face makes the air in the room cackle with electricity.
Torch starts barking out orders, “Smith, Wesson, and Duck, get out to the gate and check things out. Pretty Boy, you and the two prospects start checking the outer perimeter. Razor, you better have all the fancy shit online and ready. We’ve got rats roaming too close to home.” The brothers get moving, not questioning Torch, trusting the man that’s set to be president of this club one day. A chorus of “Yes, sirs” and “You’ve got it,” is thrown over the brothers’ shoulders.
Torch turns, heading back into church. The ones of us who didn’t receive orders go back in with him. I want to know what the fuck is on Riley’s phone, and why she looks like someone has murdered her best friend. Once we’re all back inside the room with the door closed, Torch slides Riley’s phone across the table toward Prez. Steel leans forward, picking it up before throwing it across the room.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” he roars before turning to glare at Razor. “You better know exactly when, where, and what fucking direction they went after taking that fucking photo!”
“Luckily, before you threw the phone against the wall, Torch sent me the photo so I could get the metadata off it. It was taken two fucking weeks ago from right outside the front gates. Where the hell was the prospect that was supposed to be watching the gate?” Razor snaps, looking up to Torch.
“I don’t know at this very moment. I will be finding out shortly.” Torch turns, leaving the room, and slamming the door on his way out.
“Prez, this is too fucking close. Something about all of this doesn’t add up,” I grumble, making my way to the T.V. with information still displayed on it.
“Flyboy, we’ve always trusted your gut. What’re you seeing that we don’t?” Steel’s voice is tight with anger.
“It’s the fact that these two assholes are moving around, and somehow aren’t on any cameras. They have to be getting help from somebody. Razor, can you bring up the photos of when they got to town? Can you move slowly through any others we have once we see those?” I ask him, not looking away from the set.
Razor does what I ask. I watch closely as the images flash across the screen, one at a time, by the fourth image, I realize the only reason we see them is because they want us to. “Fuck me. It’s staged!”
“Whole sentence, Flyboy! Break it down in simplicity,” Prez snaps.
So, I do. I spend the next two hours going over each photo and small glimpses of video until they understand and fucking see what I do. When Razor finally catches onto the pattern, it’s like I unlocked the missing piece in his mind. The information starts to pour in, and we’re so close to finding these assholes that my skin itches. I can’t wait to show them what happens when you mess with an Ol’ Lady of the club. Most of all, what it means to mess with what’s mine!
“Let’s go see what’s going on out there, and then get some rest. That way, when we find these fuckers, they pay,” Prez says, making his way out of the room, leaving me to follow.
What I find when I get out the door, is what I’ve always wanted, but never fucking thought I would get.