Chapter 6

CHAPTER

SIX

The seven senior members of the Iron City Knights MC sat or stood at the rounded table near the back of the club.

The patch-overs from earlier this year had taken off back to where they came from, since the club was going through some serious restructuring.

Baghouse, Melter, and Quillon perched on stools, while Camshaft and Crossman stood nearby.

Scrap still sat on his throne, sullen and silent, but the new president, Wolf, was running the show now.

He slammed his hand on the scarred wood surface in lieu of a gavel.

“Let’s come to order and get this shit done. ”

Cam held back a smirk at their version of Robert’s Rules. Today was not a day for amusement, as there were serious issues that needed to be addressed.

“Between the machine shop and forge next door, which stay open during the day, and Attic, which is open at night, we have people at our places almost all the time. There are very few hours when no one is around.” Wolf paused and sipped from a silver Yeti go-cup.

“We’re pretty much covered, but there’s still shit going on in the area we need to know about.

Take a look at the security camera footage from Justin and Rorrie’s coffee shop a couple streets over.

” He clicked the remote in his hand, and the flat-screen TV on the wall came to life.

The images were blurred and grainy but clear enough to show two figures walking up to the window of the business and then shattering it with swinging bats.

One spray-painted a big red X on the front door before tossing something through the broken glass.

A moment later, the video showed them running away as a bright flash exploded across the screen.

“As luck would have it, the sprinkler system came on and doused the fire before it spread to another building. There’s still a lot of damage, though.” He turned the TV off and dropped the remote onto the table. “Who or what does this remind you of?”

Cam’s mouth turned down. Not too many months ago, the vape and head shop across the street from the club was bombed out in the same way.

Unfortunately, the owner, who they called “the hippie guy,” was there, and the blast had killed him.

A shudder ran through Cam as he remembered the sight and smell of the man’s burnt, twisted body.

Scrap also squirmed in his chair. The older man never had much to say when he previously ran church meetings, but today he was noticeably silent. His chin almost rested on his chest, and he seemed to either be asleep or drifting toward it.

“Clauson’s store got bombed the same way a couple days ago. Edna’s banged up but okay.” Wolf leaned back. “Our buddy Officer Denny took charge and told me there’s no camera or CCTV footage. I bet Jazz can find something, though. It sounds like the same pattern.”

“It can’t be the Slaggers again. Your girl did a number on them, and they disbanded,” Melter piped up as he sprinkled some ground-up leaves onto a white paper.

Cam found himself in agreement with the older man. Jazz had mad hacker skills and used them to screw up the Slaggers’ finances, which crippled the rival MC. Despite their retaliation, they never got their money back, and the Knights assumed they were gone for good.

Wolf’s eyebrows came together. “Are you seriously rolling a joint right now?”

Melter glanced up in surprise. “Yeah. What’s the problem?”

“We’re having a meeting.”

“So what?”

Wolf lost his temper. “Whattaya mean, ‘So what?’ We’re trying to revamp and restructure this club. You wanna get high, do it on your own time!”

“It’s just weed, man.”

“I don’t care if it’s fucking gold. Do that shit later.”

Melter mumbled something under his breath, but he relented and tucked the joint into the front pocket of his shirt.

Wolf resumed the meeting. “We don’t know who’s behind this, and after the shit show we just dealt with, I’m not taking chances. The businesses and people who live here are looking to us to be leaders and help protect them. We’re not going all vigilante, but we will start supporting our turf more.”

Baghouse scoffed. “Yinz think we’re a neighborhood watch or some shit like that?”

Wolf’s face turned to steel. “Yeah, that’s the plan. You got a problem with it?”

The older man scoffed. “Fuck no. If some jagoffs want to get in our faces, we need to start pushin’ back.”

Wolf’s expression relaxed at that; having a founding member like Baghouse on board made this task easier.

“I’m not talking about patrolling the streets on a regular basis.

We don’t have the manpower for that. I’m saying we keep our eyes open and be present, like getting coffee at Justin and Rorrie’s place when they open back up.

People see us somewhere, they’re less likely to target the place.

If one of our people gets wind of something, that’s when we act. ”

“What if our presence puts a target on someone’s back?” Crossman asked.

Cam’s eyebrow rose as he agreed. “He’s got a point.

Suppose the goal is to fuck with us by messing with the people around us.

Ever since Bill and Madge had to close down Coffee and Cakes, we’ve been going to Justin and Rorrie’s to get caffeinated.

Hell, all of us visit Clauson’s for stuff.

What if that’s the reason they got hit?”

Wolf paused and tapped his fingers on the tabletop.

“It’s a possibility. Then again, it’s also possible they got hit for something else.

All’s I’m saying is we need to be alert and pay attention to the people in our area.

If we hear about something or someone gets a threat, we need to step in and step up. Make sense?”

A chorus of “Yeahs” sounded around the table, along with some nods.

“Anyone else got any new business?” Wolf paused and glanced around the room. “Right. Adjourned.” He slapped his palm on the table and rose, then groaned and grabbed the small of his back. “Shit!”

Cam noticed and cringed. “You oughta lay off working on the new house so much. Just let the crew get it done.”

Wolf straightened and blew out a breath. “It’s not that. It’s swinging Jazz’s nephews around at the park yesterday. Those little shits are heavier than they think.”

“Stuck with babysitting, eh? They’re not that big.”

Wolf grunted. “Huh. You try to swing a five-year-old and a three-year-old around for a couple hours. I guarantee your back will feel it too.”

Cam laughed. “Sabrina can take care of that for you. She’s really good.”

“Who the hell is Sabrina?” Melter asked as he pulled out the joint he’d rolled earlier. He put one end in his mouth and started to light it.

“Scrap’s daughter.” Wolf frowned. “Take that shit outside.”

Scrap came awake at Wolf’s words, and his mouth twisted in irritation.

Shit, Cam mentally cursed. It wasn’t his business what the deal was between Sabrina and Scrap, but he thought she had the right to know if he was her real father.

Melter’s eyes glowed with anger and confusion. He shrugged, lifting his hands in the air. “What the fuck? No one’s had a problem with it before.”

“Well, there’s a problem now. This is a legit business, and we need to keep it that way. I don’t care if you want to get stoned, but you don’t do that here. Got it?”

“Gawddammit, I don’t have a fuckin’ daughter!” Scrap bellowed, punctuated by a fist to the surface of the table. The pieces on the ever-present chess board fell over.

Cam wanted to yell back at the stubborn man, but he kept his tone low and, he hoped, reasonable. “It only takes a minute to find out for sure. Just take the damn DNA test and be done with it.”

“I ain’t takin’ no fuckin’ test! Whoever the fuck she is, she ain’t mine!”

At one time, the garbled growl from the most senior member of the club would have shut everyone up. Not so much anymore.

Cam rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say, Scrap. I hope you don’t regret those words, ’cause this thing is gonna eat at you until you give in and do that cheek swab.”

Wolf scratched his bearded chin with two fingers. “I don’t get why you’re being so damn pigheaded about it, unless you think there might be a chance she is your daughter.”

Scrap’s face turned beet red in anger, and he spluttered a few times before he found his words. “Yinz can piss up a fuckin’ rope, ya gawddamn jagoffs! I’ve said already I don’t have a fuckin’ daughter!”

As Scrap’s roar reverberated through the building, the other members of the Iron City Knights watched silently as the old man fell to the floor in a boneless heap.

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