Chapter Nineteen
Jingles
As a patched member of the Silver Shadows MC for the last twelve years, I had done a lot of shit. The mother chapter in Arkansas was a one percenter club. They had their fingers in a lot of illegal pies.
I cut my teeth on that shit.
King petitioned to start another chapter because a few of us were tired of living with our heads on a swivel. We had to always keep our eyes looking behind our back and the backs of our brothers.
The constant fear of being hauled in for something we did, and even some things we didn’t do, was exhausting.
We wanted an easier life.
We would do without some of the finer things in life if it meant we could breathe. Most of the Nebraska club was younger. Getting picked up for a ten-to-fifteen-year stint meant you would miss out on the best years of your life.
None of us wanted that.
So King chose his officers, and we moved on. We all had a chunk saved from the shit we had been involved in, and we pooled it together to get started. Blade found us the perfect place to set up shop.
Diamond Creek, Nebraska, was quiet, unpopulated, and most of all, it had become home. Even more than Arkansas ever was.
I wasn’t a native of Arkansas. New York City was where I called home until I was nineteen years old. I walked away from my family, my girl, my future, and never looked back.
I couldn’t even remember how I ended up in Arkansas. Once I met the Shadows, I knew I was where I belonged. I never belonged in New York. The people, the noise, the money. None of it appealed to me.
So, when I caught my girlfriend in bed with my older brother, I found something better.
I learned a lot from the Shadows in Arkansas. They taught me how to fight. They taught me how to steal. Most importantly, they taught me what family really meant.
Family was there for you. No matter what. Family had your back. That was how I found myself where I was right now. Following my brother’s woman to work and back.
This wasn’t the most exciting job, but I was the best person for it. Most people would think the Shadows taught me how to hide. How to slink around without being noticed.
No, the people who raised me taught me that.
I refused to call them my family. Family didn’t treat you the way they did. Family didn’t see you as just a pawn to be used to further their own agenda and their own path into what they considered greatness.
I learned at an early age to not let anyone see or hear me. My childhood home was enormous. A mansion, by most standards, located outside of New York City. Yet, it was a shack by my parents’ standards.
My mother sat on the seat of any charity that would allow her in. She wanted to be a socialite. They made her a gopher. The women of New York’s social scene used my mother to do the things they didn’t want to do.
She ate it up as acceptance.
My father worked on Wall Street. He did what he could to climb that ladder. The elite men of New York used him to move their money around. He thought he was necessary to them. He believed they couldn’t function without him.
In reality, he was their scapegoat, should anyone question how they made their money or where they hid it.
Growing up, I was the middle child. The invisible one. The one no one noticed. That was how I honed my skill. The older I got, the more I challenged myself to get into places without being seen or heard.
It started with sneaking into the kitchen at night. We had cameras everywhere, so I snuck into a few places I knew were off-limits, so I would have a baseline, knowing my father saw me.
Then, I perfected getting in and out without being seen on camera. Once that was done, I snuck in and out of meetings, parties my parents held, even my father’s office to listen to phone conversations.
That was how I found out my brother was fucking my girlfriend. I don’t know if they ever knew I saw them. I never said a word.
When I found them together in his room, I slipped back into mine, packed a bag, and left. It had been thirteen years since I spoke with any of them. I doubted my parents even noticed I was gone.
I missed my baby sister, though. She was only eleven when I left, and the only family I had worth caring about. She was too young to leave with me. That didn’t stop me from regretting leaving her behind.
I gave her name to Nav and asked him to keep tabs on her. I didn’t want to know anything unless I absolutely needed to. So far, he said she was doing well. I was happy with that.
Joining the Shadows, I knew my skill would come in handy. I didn’t tell them about it right away. Sneaking around the clubhouse, I investigated the Shadows. I needed to know everything they were involved in before I aligned myself completely.
The guns didn’t bother me. The loansharking was fine. Even the drugs didn’t deter me. Skin would have been a no-go for me. That shit would never be ok.
Once I decided I wanted to be a part of the Shadows, I went to Steele and told him what I could do and convinced him to shorten my prospect period. He realized what a valuable asset he had in me.
He didn’t want me to move to the new chapter with King. He didn’t want to lose my skill set. I offered to teach a brother of my choosing how to do what I did. That is exactly what I did.
Mostly.
Hey, a guy can’t give away all his secrets.
Being invisible meant I was the one chosen for surveillance. I didn’t mind; I enjoyed working alone. It wasn’t always glorious, and especially this job. Following Samantha to work and back wasn’t exciting. It wasn’t dangerous and stimulating. But it was important.
I hadn’t told Jack about her conversation with Carrie. He knew Carrie called, but he didn’t know I bugged the phone at The Diner.
I’m nothing if not thorough.
I knew today was the day that Samantha would lose her tail and drive north to meet Carrie at a coffee shop. I could wait at the coffee shop, but I wanted to follow her and make sure I didn’t miss a last-minute change of plan.
Like I said, thorough.
I watched her slip out the back door with the trash. She was good. No one would think twice about her taking out the garbage. She made sure the door shut behind her and slinked over to her car. I knew she’d left her purse and keys hidden under the seat. She took a chance that paid off.
Since I knew where she was going, I could stay back further than I normally would. She wouldn’t be looking for me. She’d be watching for a bike. That mistake would keep her preoccupied while I followed.
The forty-five-minute drive to Scottsbluff took a little over an hour because Samantha backtracked a few times. She made sure no one followed her. She’d been doing this for four years. I’d been doing this a hell of a lot longer.
She pulled into the coffee shop and got out. Standing by the door of her car, she looked around. I knew she could feel me watching. She had to, given how long she’d been looking over her shoulder. She wouldn’t be looking for me, though.
She walked in, ordered, and sat at a table in the corner. I hadn’t seen Carrie yet. I had time to slip in, grab a coffee and a seat near Samantha.
I stepped out of my Mercedes G-Class in my tailored Brioni suit. Leaving my shades on, I stepped into the shop and walked to the counter. I ordered my coffee and sat two tables away from Samantha.
We sat there together, but separate, and waited for Carrie to arrive.
Unfolding the newspaper I brought, I then slipped my air pods into my ears. To anyone watching, I was just a businessman drinking a coffee and reading the newspaper. However, the tech I had on my phone allowed me to hear everyone in the room. Once Carrie arrived, I would hear their entire conversation.
We didn’t wait long before Carrie walked in. Samantha had bought two coffees; one she handed to Carrie. I sat there listening to their conversation, recording the whole thing to go over later with the club officers.
At one point, I thought I might have to blow my cover and step in. But the voices that rose lowered back down. Knowing the conversation was ending, I stood. Making a show of stretching to linger a little longer, I wanted to look like I was leaving before they were. I couldn’t stand at the same time Samantha did, or she might become suspicious.
When Samantha stood, I walked toward the door. I strolled across the parking lot and climbed back into my SUV. Samantha and Carrie exchanged a few more heated words in the parking lot before Samantha got back in her car and left.
I followed her back toward Diamond Creek, calling Jack on the way.
“What’s happened?” Jack asked as soon as the call connected.
“Sorry, brother.”
“Tell me. You’re on speaker,” he said.
He sounded defeated.
“She left work early. She walked out the back with a trash bag. No one would have questioned that. Then she got in her car and drove to Scottsbluff. There, she met up with Carrie. The conversation they had threw red flags all over the fucking room. I have it recorded. We can go over it when I get back.”
“What was your impression, Jingles?” That was King.
“Prez, this woman is fucking nuts. She is unraveling. Something is off.”
“Where is Sammy now?” Jack asked.
“On her way back. Not sure if she’ll head back to work or the clubhouse, but I’ll stay with her,” I assured him.
“Thanks, brother.” The call disconnected.
I followed Samantha back to Diamond Creek. When she didn’t go back to The Diner, I assumed she was going back to the clubhouse. She didn’t go there either. Instead, she pulled into the parking lot of The Queen’s Diamond, the bar in town.
I parked on the road across the street.
She slammed her door closed. She didn’t move toward the door. Instead, she turned and walked right to me.
I sat there in my expensive SUV with my expensive suit and shades.
Samantha knocked on my window, and when I rolled it down, I received the shock of my life when she said,
“How about a beer to wash down that coffee, Jingles?”