Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
BULLSEYE
Heavy hangs the head that wears the crown.
The saying circles through my mind as I watch the brothers enter church one by one, each wearing expressions that verge between fury and dismay, which I fully understand.
Apart from Heathen, who, having lost his life as a prospect, we’d patched in before putting him in his grave, we haven’t lost a brother in a very long time.
The loss of one of his men is the last situation any president wants to find himself in.
Everybody will be looking to me for answers, of which I have none.
Imperceptibly straightening my back, I draw on all the strength, patience, and hopefully wisdom that I’ve earned during my fifty-five years on this earth.
When everyone’s seated, I bang the gavel to put a halt to the conversations and speculations buzzing around.
As I wait for the silence to fall, my eyes land on the empty chair.
Fuck, Rattler, you should be there. Much as there’s been times I wished you weren’t, you don’t deserve whatever happened to you today.
At last, the voices fade, and all eyes come to me.
I clear my throat. “As you already know, Rattler’s missing.
” The few who hadn’t been at the compound when the summons to ride had gone out will have been updated by now.
They’ll know how, taking all available brothers, I’d ridden hell to leather to get to the cabin, but we’d arrived too late.
By the time we’d gotten there, the fighting was over. And Rattler was gone.
“Presumed dead,” Tempest adds, his brow lined with deep furrows and his lips tight.
As a roar goes around the table, Saint raises his hand and reminds us all, “He was heavily outnumbered but managed to take six of them out.” He pauses as hands slap the table in recognition of our brother’s efforts.
“Stone left the bodies of his men lying around, but he took Rattler.” He raises his shoulders, then lowers them, and, with a pointed look toward Tempest, states, “Whether dead or alive, or for what we don’t know. ”
“To fuck with us?” Woody asks, then he growls. “Because that’s what he’s fuckin’ doing. He must know it’s killing us not to have confirmation he died.”
“From the woman’s description of what happened, they’d definitely taken him down. She would have seen if he’d escaped from his position,” I tell them.
“We signed his death warrant when we forced him to marry her.” Words’ face is taut.
“Didn’t do much forcing, he agreed. One million dollars is one fuck of an incentive,” Paint observes.
“It isn’t if you’re not alive to spend it,” Stalker responds. Like the rest of us, he seems stunned that one of our own is gone.
I nod my head in agreement. “I want to know how Stone discovered the location of that cabin.” My eyes land on Genie.
“Pippa and I are looking into it,” he answers. Then grimaces. “The club owns the property, but the ownership is tied up in a trail of bogus companies. It would take a miracle to find it.”
“I didn’t even realise it was ours,” Winchester remarks. “I thought we were renting.” His words are echoed around.
“I knew.” Stalker raises his hand. “I did the finances for the acquisition.”
Sometimes, or maybe make that often, the unpleasant duties stay here in the top seat. “Hands up. Who else knew we were the owners?”
Genie raises his hand, Stalker too, along with Saint, Freak and Tempest. All other hands stay down. I close my eyes for a moment before observing, “So that limits where the exposure could have come from.”
“Fuck, you’re not suggesting it’s one of us who sold him out?” Woody snarls, hitting his fist on the table.
I get my rebuttal in fast. “No, I’m not saying any of us were deliberately loose-mouthed. But we’re trying to narrow it down as to how the fuck Stone found out.”
I notice Stalker looks pensive, so call him out. “What you thinking, Stalk?”
Glancing up at me, he moves his head left, then right, before centring it again. His face tightens. “Didn’t think anything of it at the time. But I caught that dancer friend of Ames in my office. Said she was waiting for me to discuss a discrepancy in her paycheck, but…”
My hand meets the table as my eyes zoom in on him. “Was there anything she could find?”
Stalker blanches. “I’d left my laptop open. Only stepped out for a minute to take a piss.” He presses his lips together. “As it happens, I was reviewing our properties.”
“Satin?” Paint’s jaw has dropped. “I thought she was Ames’s friend and had helped get her away from Stone.”
I’ve got my own thoughts, but I’ll listen to theirs.
Piston voices something along the lines of what I’m thinking. “We already had doubts about her being sick that night Stone turned up at Royals.”
Saint nods and sits forward. “Stone could have tasked her with finding out what happened to Ames. When was this, Stalker?”
“A few days ago.” Stalker scrunches his face. “Day before yesterday.”
Which would explain why Stone hadn’t made a move on the cabin before now.
He hadn’t known about it. My lips purse.
Certainly sounds like the stripper is where the leak had come from.
She must have been trying for weeks to get the information, and due to Stalker’s weak bladder at the wrong fucking time, she’d hit the motherlode.
“Rattler never trusted that bitch,” Words reminds us. “That’s why Ames wasn’t allowed to tell her where she was going.”
“Ames didn’t even know until she got there. And she had no phone, so she couldn’t have spoken to anyone.”
“I think we need to have a word with Ames about her so-called friend,” Piston states.
Stalker nods. “I’m not saying it was her, just that she had the opportunity.”
Freak sits forward. “Ames is pretty cut up about Rattler. I reckon she’s caught feelings for him. She’s in a pretty bad place right now. Suggesting it was her friend who betrayed her would be devastating.”
“Wait, back up,” Winchester demands. “She caught feelings for Rat?” He barks a laugh. “Fuck if that’s not the damndest thing I’ve ever heard. Rat? What woman could even like him?”
“He doesn’t even treat the club girls well. He shoots his load, then leaves them wanting.”
I glare at Woody. “Let’s not speak ill of the missing right now.”
He’s unrepentant. “I’m just suggesting that woman needs her head examined.” He scratches his ear. “Or is it that Nordic thing? You know, where a kidnappee becomes brainwashed by her kidnapper?”
“Stockholm syndrome,” Words corrects.
Woody waves him off. “That’s what I said.”
“She wasn’t kidnapped. She went of her own volition.” Saint shoots a glare down the table.
A corner of my mouth turns up. Not literally taken by force, but she hadn’t been given much choice.
Piston rubs at his temples. “Since the day Rat was patched in, he’s been winding us up.” He fixes his stare on the empty seat opposite him. “May be fucked up, but I kind of miss him. Seems fuckin’ wrong he’s not here. He didn’t deserve that.”
“We don’t even have a fuckin’ body to bury. Not even his cut,” Words growls. “It ain’t right.”
“It is fucked up,” I agree, deciding it’s time to get them back on track. “Brothers, all we can do now is find him and wreak vengeance on his behalf. And that starts with finding Stone.”
“Can we use Ames to draw him out?”
Tempest answers Paint for me. “If Ames’s feelings toward him weren’t one-sided, we owe it to our brother to keep her protected. He fuckin’ died, or at best was captured, trying to save her. We put her in the line of fire, we’re disrespecting his memory.”
Paint’s unrepentant. “Rat? He’d never have fallen for her. We all know his opinion about brothers taking ol’ ladies.”
Freak growls warningly. “Even if he’s not changed his opinion, the fact is, as Tempest just said. He knew the odds were against him, but his last act was to try to save her. As a mark of respect to him, we’re not going to put her in danger.”
“But…”
“Quiet!” I snap. Rubbing my temples, I remind them, “We shouldn’t take our eye off the prize.
Apart from protecting her for Rattler’s sake, the club stands to earn a pretty penny for keeping her safe.
While I’m not totally discounting the idea of using her to lure her brother to us, our main aim is to make sure she comes to no harm.
” I raise the gavel, but don’t bring it down.
“Now, unless anyone has anything else to contribute, I say it’s more important we find Stone and do everything we can to bring Rattler home.
” I don’t add dead or alive, but I’m sure everyone is thinking it.
“Genie, you keep trying to track him down. You found him this morning…”
Genie frowns and interrupts, “Too late. I’ve been watching out for the number plate of the SUV that I’d clocked close to Royals the evening he broke in. Picked it up this morning, came to you as soon as we saw where it was heading…” His voice trails off.
Yeah, he did. There’s only one road out of Gravity leading up to the mountain, and only one reason that Stone would have been heading that way. “You did what you could.” I absolve him of responsibility. If anything, it’s my fault for being too complacent, believing the cabin couldn’t be found.
Nodding, Genie resumes, “Didn’t catch him as he returned to Gravity. But he could have taken a back route to avoid the traffic cameras. We’ll keep looking.”
Throwing him chin, I look down the table. “I want a group of you to go searching around town. Look for any abandoned buildings where he might have holed up.”
“I’ll lead a group out,” Tempest offers. “But he could have gone back to Phoenix.”
Paint raises his hand after exchanging a glance with Piston. “We’ll come too. It’s Ames he’s after, so it makes sense he’d stay close by.”
“Why not bring Satin in, Prez? She might know something.”