Chapter 13
Haze
I could smell the smoke before I saw the flames licking up from below deck. I let go of Anna and race forward, intent upon saving as much of my beloved cabin cruiser as possible.
After grabbing the large fire extinguisher from its housing on the frame of the doorway, I dive down below and begin making wide sweeping sprays. Unfortunately, I’m losing the battle when several other men show up with fire extinguishers to help. I vaguely remember hearing Anna screaming for help at the top of her lungs. Apparently other boat owners docked at the long pier answered the call.
Everything about this situation is surreal. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that it’s arson because I can smell the gasoline. One of the men drags me topside when I start coughing uncontrollably. I see Anna standing on the pier surrounded by other people, mostly women. She’s crying her eyes out, I stagger forward and go to console her. Stephanie is there, looking shell-shocked as well.
By the time I get to them, Anna collapses into my arms.
“I’m sorry. This is all my fault,” she sobs.
I look at Stephanie over her shoulder. “Tell me what you know, and I’ll do everything I can to get your ban lifted.”
She points to my boat. “Someone doesn’t like your new lady friend.”
I turn and see what’s got Anna so upset. Someone has scrawled the world slut in red letters along with a stick figure in black paint with red hair. Who the fuck would do something like that? The minute that thought runs through my mind, I think of the drunk asshole from this morning. The one I perp-walked out of the medical office. He’s just about stupid enough to need to draw a picture to make his point. But would the fucker be so stupid as to follow me and Anna to the port?
I remember the look on his face and the belligerent way he acted. Yeah, he was that sort of messed up bastard.
Stephanie gives me a minute to digest what I’m seeing before continuing. “I asked around on my way to the pier and no one reported seeing anything, but I only spoke to a handful of people. I called Cleo and asked her to get a message to Siege. She called back to say they’re on their way. I don’t think they’ll need my help, but I can make sure they get copies of the security feed from the outside of the restaurant. That’s all I can think of right now.”
“Thanks, Stephanie. Go talk to as many people as you can. Bring the ones that have intel to Siege.”
“I think Trix is coming for your woman.”
“Good. It will free me up to deal with the asshole who did this.”
***
After the fire had been put out, me and Anna sat at the docks. The charred remains of my boat smoldering in the distance. Anna had been looking at my cabin cruiser in silence, then I hear a sob escape her lips. When I look down at her, she has tears running down her face. “It’s my ex. He found me. I just know it.”
I frown down at her. “It’s not your ex. You said he was a rich Ivy League prick. He’s not stupid enough to think he needs to draw a redhead for me to know who he’s slut shaming. But I know who’s that stupid.”
Her expression is growing more and more confused. “You think it’s someone else?”
“Yeah, the prick from this morning. He’s stupid enough to mess with a member of the Savage Legion and to draw stick figures like a fucking preschooler.”
“You really think so?”
“I’d bet the shop on it,” I tell her reassuringly.
She immediately calms down a bit, but murmurs, “It’s still my fault. I should have been nicer to him. If I had, none of this would have happened. My stupidity just costs you a lot of money and damage to the boat you love so much.”
I give her a little shake. “Wrong on both accounts, darlin’. If I remember correctly, you were nice to the stupid fucker. I was the one who went off on his dumb ass.”
I can tell the truth of my words get through, because her expression changes.
I quickly add, “And part of our training with Tank was to—”
A deep male voice splits the air as Tank finishes my sentence, “Always buy insurance. Am I right, brother? Tell me you got the fucking insurance sorted?”
I turn to look at him and nod. “I’ve always followed your good advice. No matter what, I’ll break even on the damage. I might even end up with a new boat out of it.”
Tank’s face lights up and he claps me on the back with one hand when he gets close enough. “Attaboy. I taught you and your brother right.”
Siege steps into my line of sight. “If you two are finished congratulating each other, maybe we can get to figuring out what the fuck happened.”
My club brothers apparently scare Anna, because she clings to me even tighter. I wrap her up and pull her closer as we discuss the situation. Eventually Trix and my brother show up. Trix is carrying a long fur coat. She’s holding it out to Anna like she’s trying to catch a scared little rabbit in a net. I frown at her, grab the coat and wrap it around my lady’s shoulders.
“I want you to go with Trix and my brother while me and the rest of my club brothers figure out what happened here tonight.”
She pulls the coat around her more tightly. “Will you please be careful?”
Winking at her, I reply, “I’m only ever reckless. You know that, sweetheart. Now, go on. I can’t concentrate, while you’re running around looking all beautiful and fuckable in your pretty dress.”
She blushes a bright pink and it makes me grin like a madman. I give her a hard kiss and send her on her way. I like how reluctant she is to leave my side in a crisis, and how she asked me to be careful. This is an unexpectedly dangerous situation and she’s worried for my safety. Something about that warms me from the inside out. I can’t look away until she’s totally out of sight.
Suddenly, a big hand appears in front of my face and Siege snaps his fingers. “Wake the fuck up bro. We’ve got serious work to do.”
“Yeah, I get that.”
A young voice speaks up from behind me. “So is your new girl a slut or what?”
I turn around and slam my fist into the foul-mouthed prospect’s face. “Shut it, prospect.”
Siege reaches out, places his hand on the new guy’s chest and gives him a strong push. “Back of the line, prospect. If you keep your mouth closed and your eyes open, you just might make it through the night without losing your opportunity to prospect with our club.”
Turning to me, he demands, “Tell us everything. Start at the beginning.”
I start with the asshole from this morning, aggravated with myself for not tuning him up when I had the chance. I describe how he was drunk, harassing Anna while I parked the car and tell him about throwing him out, and even the conversation with his brother. Zen is there taking notes on his tablet. I know he’ll immediately start looking for two brothers in Las Salinas with the first names of Scott and Corey, last name Dukes.
Rigs speaks up, “I don’t understand why he would target Anna rather than you.”
I shrug. “Who the hell know why drunks do the things they do?”
Tank interjects, “I’ve been drunk a bunch of times. When I get into a bar fight. I don’t beat on the women. I tend to punch the fuck out of the man who pissed me off. So, I’m with Rigs on this one. I get why he set your shit on fire. I don’t get why he wasted precious time to slut shame the woman who wasn’t receptive to getting perved on by him.”
Siege cuts through the static flying back and forth between us. “The why of it doesn’t fucking matter at this point. It only matters that we figure out who this asshole is and beat the truth out of him.”
Rigs absentmindedly fiddles with the cross hanging around his neck, “Siege is right. We aren’t going to logic our way through the inner workings of an intoxicated man’s thought processes. Right now we need to concentrate on finding the fucker and showing him the error of his ways.”
Zen looks up from his tablet. “I think I have something.”
“Tell us what you’ve got,” Siege states.
“I got a land records match for Corey Dukes. It’s an old run-down farmhouse on the outskirts of Las Salinas.” He zooms in with the screen turned around for everyone to see.
I speak up immediately, “What are we waiting for. Let’s load up and pay this asshole a little visit.”
Siege snarls, “Load up indeed. For once I agree about storming his place. We need answers about what was going on tonight. If there’s any evidence linking him to this crime, he needs to be arrested and locked the fuck up. If we let this go, that will be sending a clear message that this kind of behavior will be tolerated. If word gets out that we let this happen, our property and womenfolk will ever be safe again.”
***
Siege picks a team of six of us to pay this asshole a visit. Zen sends us all location pins and we use it to navigate as a group to his place. As I’m riding down the interstate, my mind drifts back to Anna and how scared she was and how worried she was for my safety. I decide right then and there that I’m going to do everything in my power to make her mine. Some way, somehow, I’m going to convince her that I’m everything she needs in a man.
Once we exit the interstate and are on an isolated one-lane paved road I know there is very little chance of us being noticed by others. That will minimize the risk and make this whole situation go a lot damn faster.
We park half a mile away so he can’t hear the roar of our motorcycles. Then all six of us creep forward until Rider gives us the signal to stop. Rigs moves forward to scout out the grounds and returns fifteen minutes later to give a report.
“There are two vehicles present, a beat-up blue pickup and a newer model Honda Civic. I’m guessing the truck belongs to Scott Dukes and the Civic belongs to his more successful brother.”
“That would be a good guess,” Siege agrees. “What else did you see? Do they have security cameras of any sort? Maybe a ring camera on the door?”
“Nada, and I looked everywhere. The house looks like it was built back in the sixties but is in the process of being renovated. They have lumber stacked on the front porch, along with some other building supplies. The house is quiet, but I could hear the television in the front room.”
Rider speaks up, “I recommend we breach the door quietly and have a look inside. They’re clearly at home because their vehicles are there.”
Siege nods. “I agree. Rigs, you take a couple of brothers and set about gaining access to the back door. The rest of us will do the same to the front door. We’ll clear the house room by room until we find both parties. The last thing we need is to focus on our target and have his brother sneak up on us with a shotgun.”
Rigs curses under his breath. “Don’t worry, my team will find the brother, if the rest of you find Scott. We’ll squeeze information out of him about his whereabouts for the last hour or so.”
We break apart, each seeing to the task we’ve been assigned to perform. It’s decided that I’ll stay at Siege’s side. I think my club president doesn’t quite trust me not to strangle the crazy fucker. Once we force the door, it doesn’t take a hot minute to find him. Scott is passed out in the living room with a multitude of beer cans littering the floor around him. One thing is for certain, this man is deep in sleep, snoring like a freight train.
I stalk forward and pounce on him. His eyes fly open, and I can tell the second he recognizes me because he starts freaking the fuck out. I clamp my hand over his mouth and hold him down until Rigs comes downstairs with his brother in tow.
Corey is sleepy-eyed but grows alarmed at the sight of six burly bikers taking up space in his living room. When he catches sight of me, he rushes forward. I presume he wants to separate me from his brother. I step back before he can intervene. When he’s within arm’s reach, I grab him and fling him onto the sofa beside his asshole brother.
“What’s this about?” Corey asks. “We talked it out earlier. I thought we were good after what went down this morning.”
Siege steps forward. “You’re not asking the questions here. We are.”
Corey looks from Siege to me and back again before responding. “Yeah, sure thing. What do you want to know.”
Scott tries to lunge off the sofa, but his brother elbows him right in the chest hard, sending him crashing back into place. It seems that he’s about as tired of his asshole brother as we are.
Siege asks, “Where were you an hour and a half ago, maybe two hours?”
Corey brings one hand to his chest and replies grimly. “Me? I’d just watched my brother puking his guts up in a bucket I provided. I put him in the recovery position, hosed the bucket out on the back patio and then crashed out.” Shooting me a quick glance, he added, “In case you’re not aware, trying to keep a chronic alcoholic alive when all he wants to do is drink himself to death is a fucking full-time job.” Looking away, he adds, “It’s mentally and physically exhausting.”
“I’m not buying that for a fucking second.” I growl.
Corey looks totally bewildered. “I don’t get why you care so much about our fucked-up family dynamics.”
“I don’t,” I fling back. “Someone torched my boat earlier this evening. Since I don’t have many enemies, and none are quite stupid enough to attack a member of the Savage Legion and expect to live to tell the tale—plus something spraypainted on the side related to my woman—I immediately thought of your brother. He’s only ignoramus that I’ve had conflict with recently.”
Scott laughs, too long and too hard for it to be genuine. Then he stops mid-laugh and states smugly. “You’re a gigantic asshole. It’s funny that you think I’m the only one who could possibly want to mess your shit up.”
Rigs stalks forward, squats down in front of Scott and stares him in the eyes. Before anyone can object, his hand shoots out and wraps around the intoxicated man’s throat. He jerks him forward until he is about six inches from his face and states calmly, “Whoever it was, left a disparaging comment in the form of graffiti, insulting the same woman you were harassing this morning.”
Scott’s eyes get big, and his expression turns a little confused. “You mean that frigid redhead? She’s innocent as the day is long. Why the hell would anyone talk trash about her?”
Rigs glances up at me before returning to his conversation with Scott. “Why indeed. That’s the million-dollar question. Care to speculate, before I send you to meet your maker?”
By this point, Scott has both hands wrapped around Rigs wrist, trying in vain to pull his hand away. Corey is frozen in place, literally gaping at Rigs. I guess the older brother could be perceived as terrifying because he wears all black and looks like your worst nightmare come to life. Rigs comes off as a psychotic religious nut. Of course he wasn’t, but perception is reality until you get to know him.
Still struggling to get Rigs off him, Scott stammers, “Get the fuck off me, preacher dude. I ain’t done nothin’ to offend you or God.”
Finally, Corey found his voice. “My brother is right. I had to call an ambulance earlier because he was puking up blood along with whatever in the fuck he ate today. My brother flat out refused to go to the emergency room though.” Giving Scott a withering look, he continues, “I can only assume that’s because he’s literally trying to drink himself to death.”
Rigs lets go of Scott’s neck and moves back. “So you can verify where your brother was two hours ago?”
“It was more like three hours ago when I called EMS, but they can verify that he was falling down drunk and in no condition to go anywhere on his own, much less capable of running around burning people’s boats down and leaving shitty messages behind.”
Rigs comes to his feet and turns to Siege. “I’ll check with EMS, but it looks like Scott wasn’t capable of walking a straight line, much less vandalizing a yacht down by the pier. Plus it’s an hour and a half’s ride to where Haze’s boat is docked, if we can place him here three hours ago, then he’d not have time to make it to the docks and back.”
Siege reluctantly agrees. “Yeah, it sounds like we might be barking up the wrong tree on this one.”
Corey perks up. “Do you think it might be a case of mistaken identity? If your boat was docked at the pier with a bunch of others, it could be that someone torched the wrong boat.”
I run my hand through my hair as I think it over. “That seems like a more plausible explanation, than someone calling my sweet natured woman what was scrawled on the side of my boat.” Yeah, this was starting to make some semblance of sense.
Siege tells us, “The police and fire marshal are processing the scene even as we speak. Maybe they’ll pick up on a lead.”
Rigs looks at Corey. “Do you want me to enroll your brother in our alcohol recovery program?”
Corey finally got up from the sofa, looking all kinds of hopeful. “The Savage Legion really has an alcohol recover program? Or is it more like a twelve-step program?”
“It’s more like a throwing him in a room in the basement, forcing him to go cold turkey while one of our medics keeps an eye on him. Once he’s been sober for a couple of weeks, I start talking to him about what’s driving the death by alcohol thing he’s got going.”
Scott tries to get up, but his brother pushes him down again roughly with one hand. “He’s probably just going to run off. That’s what he always does. Hell, I don’t even know where he gets the fucking money to buy alcohol.”
“I’m not about wasting my time. Therefore, we’ll keep him under lock and key. He won’t run because he won’t have the opportunity.”
Corey’s expression brightens, then deflates a little. “Is that even legal?”
“It’s not entirely illegal,” Rigs says with a sly smile. “But if your brother doesn’t consent, we can get a court order appointing you as his temporary legal guardian.”
After giving his brother a long hard stare, Corey sticks his hand out to Rigs. “My brother is the only relative I’ve got left. I’d do just about anything to save his life. Count me in.”
“Bring him to the clubhouse tomorrow morning and we’ll get him dried out.”
I wonder why Scott is no longer objecting, but when his brother moves from in front of him, I realize he’s fallen asleep again.
Rider jerks his chin towards the door, indicating it’s time to leave.
We head out the door with Rider mumbling under his breath about Rigs being a fucking do-gooder who can never pass up an opportunity to save a life, no matter how worthless that life is.
I knew Rigs’ secret because he told me it once. Rigs used to take care of the hits in our club, because he didn’t want any of his club brothers to bear that burden. Now, he’s intent on making up for it by saving every human life he can. Scott is the luckiest man alive that Rigs took an interest in saving him. Of course he doesn’t see that right now, and probably won’t until he’s well into his sobriety. I, for one, am proud of Rigs. He’s a man of God who talks the talk and walks the walk in his own way.
On the long ride back to the clubhouse, all I can think of is, who in the world would do something like this? Anna had said something initially about it being her ex, but I really couldn’t see an asshole like him doing something like this. Those types never get their hands dirty, they’re all talk and no action, which for my sweet Anna’s sake is good. Maybe Corey is right about it being a case of mistaking one boat for another at the crowded dock. Nothing else really makes sense.