Chapter 13 #2
Jester sent him a glare. “Shut up, Barber. Now’s not the t-time for jokes.”
Barber patted him on the shoulder. “There’s always time for jokes, brother. I’m the funniest motherfucker ever born.”
“Is th-that what Quain tells you to get laid?” Jester’s grip on the steering wheel tightened as he took a corner too sharp. The front right wheel bounced up on the curb and back down.
Barber cursed as he was flung against his door. “Shit, watch yourself. And FYI, Quain can get it whenever he wants. He doesn’t need to butter me up.”
“Will you both shut the fuck up?” I snapped, then groaned. “Fuck! PD is in trouble. Put the pedal to the metal!”
“I’m going as fast as I can,” Jester said, giving me a hard glance. “Sit th-the fuck back. Now. You’ll end up going through the fucking windshield if I brake too hard.”
I snorted, the panic flooding my veins and setting them alight. “Wouldn’t be the first time I had road rash and nearly died.”
“You think PD would want to go through that again?” Jester asked, and the words were a baseball bat to the gut.
I exhaled harshly and sat back against the seat. Dragging the seat belt around me and buckling up, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
“I’m worried about him.” It hurt to admit it. The Kings were a tough bunch, and I hated being weak in front of them. “I can’t lose him.”
“Uhlig won’t hurt him.” Jester glanced in the rearview mirror. The words too much were left unsaid. Uhlig and the Kings had an unofficial agreement to stay out of each other’s way, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t rough up PD for being near this heist.
“He’s angry at me.” I balled my fist up against the seat and gritted my teeth. “I fucked up. I always fuck up. He left the house. I shouldn’t have been such a fucking prick.”
“Bullshit,” Barber threw over his shoulder.
“That dude loves you. He’s been at your side for a long fucking time.
Four years. He never left you when you were in the ICU.
Not once. By the time you came out, he smelled ripe.
First time I’ve ever gagged around a man who wasn’t naked.
” He waggled his eyebrows at me when I rolled my eyes.
“He might need a breather occasionally, but we all do. Quain recently bought a new dart board and throws knives at it when he’s pissed at me. ”
“He’s imagining it’s your face,” Jester said.
Barber laughed. “You’re probably right. But we’re stronger together. No matter how much I equally piss him off and make him smile. It’s all part of being in a relationship.”
“Careful, that almost sounds reasonable,” I muttered, and it only made Barber laugh harder.
“I call it the Quain Effect, man.”
I rubbed my stomach as the anxiety twisted deeper and focused on the road through the windshield.
The buildings of the city began to disappear, leading us into the outer suburbs and, finally, into the industrial estates until there were barely any structures around.
I’d been to Uhlig’s warehouse a few times and it wasn’t the most pleasant spot.
He had a bunch of these properties and used them to torture people, whether it be personally or through cruel games rich people could bet on, including underground fighting.
The warehouse we approached was made of brick and two stories high.
The outside was ominous, almost like it’d been abandoned, with a steel fence around it that buzzed so loud as we passed that I could tell it was electrified.
Weeds lined the building. At least twenty of our brothers were waiting beside their bikes.
The moment King saw us coming, he raised his hand in a half wave.
I swallowed around a mixture of anger and fear for PD as we pulled to a stop, then shoved open the door. I rushed to get out, ignoring the sharp ache from my ribs and back with the movement, then stalked over to King.
“Where is he? If they hurt him, I’ll fucking kill them.”
King held up his palm, face stern. The grays in his hair were more prominent than ever, but he’d been stressed as hell over the last few years. “Stop. Uhlig promised PD wasn’t permanently damaged.”
“But he hurt him.” I shot a glare toward the brown steel doors of the warehouse. “I’m gonna fucking kill them all.”
“Rook, enough.”
I froze at my road name. It’d been a long time since he’d called me that. I gnashed my teeth as I took a step back, and he sighed.
“We need to play this calm. You’re pissed, but you know what Uhlig is like. He doesn’t mess around. If we go in there guns blazing, he’s gonna hurt PD worse.” King stepped forward to lay a hand on my shoulder and leaned in closer. “Keep your cool. This is all bullshitting, not fists.”
I clenched my hands at my sides. “Fine.”
King gave me a short, direct nod and glanced toward Undertaker, who was pressing a gloved finger against a knife’s blade, testing the sharpness. Undertaker raised his eyebrows at King, who sighed.
“All right, put it away, Tim. This is a friendly chat.”
Undertaker smirked but flipped the knife closed before shoving it into one of his big black riding boots. “Just in case.”
King rolled his eyes and gestured for all of us to follow him.
We headed toward the steel doors. King rapped his fist on the door twice and it opened, revealing a familiar man.
He had a thick, well-groomed beard and dark brown hair, which was longer on the top and shaved at the sides.
A cigar hung loosely between his lips as he gazed out at us, mouth curling to the side as he opened the door wider, revealing a black suit that must’ve cost a mint.
“King. We’ve been waiting. Come in.” The man turned on polished black shoes and strolled inside.
“Hey, would you look at that, Will? It’s your doppelganger.” Barber snorted in laughter.
I frowned at him. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
Barber’s laugh intensified and he pointed toward the door. “You can’t tell me you don’t see it. Colt looks like you. Sure you aren’t related?”
Colt. Fuck, of course. Matthew Coltrane. He was Uhlig’s right-hand man. He’d been around for a long time, but I didn’t see him as often as Uhlig.
King shrugged. “You have a clone.”
He didn’t wait around for me to argue before he powered onward, most of the guys following him. Scar and Charley stayed behind, and I suspected they were backup in case something happened. I strode forward, shoving past the others until I was at King’s side as we walked in.
The moment I entered, anger slapped me so hard I thought I was going to vomit.
PD sat in the middle of the room on a metal chair, arms tied behind his back and his ankles secured against the chair’s legs.
He was watching us through a swollen left eye and his face was beginning to bruise on his cheek and jaw. Drying blood layered his chin.
Despite how injured he was, he offered me a small smile.
Rage beat down on me and I ground my teeth. It took every fiber of my control not to race to Uhlig and plant my fist in his face over and over again until he was a bloody pulp.
“Calm,” King murmured, eyeing me with trepidation. “If you want to prove to us that you can handle assignments, you need to show me.”
I glanced toward PD again, his gaze pleading. He wanted me to do the same. This wasn’t only about us, it was about the club. Our family.
I squared my shoulders. “I can handle it.”
King gave me a gentle thump on the back, and we walked over to where Uhlig was waiting in an office with glass walls. His men surrounded the periphery of the warehouse, watching us carefully. Two men in suits stopped us as we reached the office.
“Only three are allowed in,” one of them grunted out.
King sighed and pointed at me and Jester. “Come with me.”
The fact that he chose me had me standing straighter. I was going to prove to him I could do this. I was ready, even if I wanted to take Uhlig’s head off for hurting PD.
I glanced back toward PD and raised my hand to let him know we would sort this out. The wobbly smile he gave me told me he trusted me and that meant the whole fucking world. I wasn’t going to let him down. I couldn’t.
I bumped into the frame of the doorjamb when I lost my balance and winced at the sharp spike of pain that resulted. King gave me a concerned glance, but I brushed it aside as I stepped inside behind him. Shit happened.
Uhlig sat in a brown leather executive chair behind a dark oak desk. He had his fingers linked together on the wood in front of himself and a grin curved his lips. The bastard was too relaxed and satisfied as far as I was concerned. What would King do if I punched the smugness off Uhlig’s face?
Beside him stood Colt, arms crossed and spine stiff.
“Derek.” King fell into a guest chair in front of Uhlig and crossed his leg over his knee, his relaxed good ole boy routine a charade I knew well. “Tell me why you have my man tied up to a chair out there.”
Uhlig wasn’t a hugely muscular man, but he was strong. He had a handsome face with bold eyebrows. His five-o’clock shadow was neat and he had a prominent nose and short dark hair threaded through with some silver. He was wearing a pair of sunglasses that he pulled off, then set on the desk.
“King. King, my friend, we’ve had a good relationship, haven’t we?” He raised his eyebrows. “We stayed out of each other’s way, and when it suited us, we helped each other.”
“Yeah. That’s true.” King paused. “Which is why I’m surprised you thought torturing one of my men was a smart idea.”
Uhlig opened his arms. “Complete misunderstanding.”
I doubted that. Uhlig loved playing games. I pressed my lips together tightly as Jester took the second seat beside King. I stayed standing behind them, offering my support.
“You see, my men thought he was part of the crew that hit my truck and took my money. They worked him over before I got here.” He flashed his perfect white teeth.
Lie. Huge fucking lie. Anger burned in my veins. The things I wanted to do to this asshole . . . .
Colt snorted and reached over to grab a lighter from Uhlig’s desk. He lit the tip of his cigar.
King pointed at it. “You have enough to share with the class?”
“No,” Colt said without missing a beat. He inhaled smoke, then blew a few rings.
King laughed in a low tone and his gaze tracked back to Uhlig. “Derek, I don’t appreciate the accusation.”
“Was there an accusation?” Uhlig tapped his desk with his right forefinger.
King kept his cool, but there was a slight shift in his demeanor.
A storm raged beneath the surface. “The Kings have no reason to attack your business or jeopardize our . . . friendship.” His jaw twitched.
“Yet, you let your men hurt PD without proof of any involvement. Did you ask him why he was near there?”
My fingers trembled, a restlessness building up inside me. I swayed but stayed rooted to the spot as my attention slid to PD through the glass walls.
Uhlig watched King for a moment, gaze intent, before his lips lifted into a smile. “Let’s ask now.” He waved his hand at his men outside, and they moved toward PD, untying him from the chair and dragging him to his feet.
PD nearly tripped, and I jolted forward, but Jester grasped my wrist to stop me from rushing out of the office. My heart gave a painful throb as PD struggled to walk properly.
Our other brothers watched, their faces giving away their irritation. They were firecrackers ready to explode. One wrong move was all it would take for a war to break out.
The men opened the glass door and shoved PD inside, and he tripped, falling to his knees with an “umph.” I rushed forward and Colt did, too. He shoved me, but I jostled him right back.
“Fuck off,” I growled at him, baring my teeth. “He’s my partner. You touch him again, I’ll slit your fucking throat.”
Colt glared for a moment, then chuckled as he took another drag of his cigar.
“Colt, leave it alone,” Uhlig said.
I went to my knees and cradled PD’s face between my hands. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”
PD offered me a bloody smile and leaned up to kiss me. I smooched him gently, softer than I wanted, but he was in pain. The tangy taste of copper lingered on my tongue as I broke contact and helped him stand.
I wrapped an arm around him to keep him on his feet and pressed my forehead to his temple. “We’re getting you out of here. I promise.”
Uhlig leaned back in his chair, casual and unaffected. “PD, right? You want to tell us why you were near the asswipes who stole my money?”