Chapter Twenty-Three Rev
Two days after Wyatt’s birth, I had Boone and Crazy Ace open up the main gates on the compound.
Deacon, Bishop, and Mac followed me as I zipped onto the main road.
I had received a call the night before from Hector Rodriguez himself.
He was more than willing to take the guns off our hands, and he had set up a meeting with us at noon with some of the men in his operation.
Although the January cold bore down hard on us, I couldn’t help enjoying the sunshine and the freedom of being outside of the compound.
Our contact point was about two miles from the compound, which was to put us Raiders at ease of not being far from home.
We pulled into the parking lot of a rather run-down Mexican restaurant, which I’d previously had no idea was involved in any dirty dealings.
When we stepped inside the restaurant, my eyes quickly scanned the room. A waitress hurried up to us. “Come with me,” she said.
“Guess she knows we’re not here for the food,” Bishop mused.
We were led to a back room that had once been used for private parties. Two men sat at one of the tables. They rose to their feet at the sight of us. “Please come in. You’re very welcome,” the older of the two said.
When I stood before him, he offered me his hand. “I’m Hector’s cousin. He flew me in to meet with you.”
After shaking his hand, I introduced him to Deacon and the others. As we sat down, beer and bottles of tequila appeared from several waitresses. I took a beer to ease some of the tension I couldn’t help feeling.
Since you never wanted a paper trail of your dealings, everything was done verbally. Your word was your bond, along with a handshake.
“So I’m to understand that the Georgia chapter of the Raiders offer us first dibs at guns, and your shipments will come to us in Juarez via your brothers in the El Paso club,” Hector said.
“That is correct,” I replied.
Hector glanced at the still nameless man at his side before turning back to me. “I understand you ask for no money in return.”
“That is true.”
After running his finger over his tequila glass, Hector narrowed his eyes.“Your generosity comes in the form of the elimination of one man. Manuel Mendoza.”
“Yes. That is true.”
“He is your fiancée’s rapist, true?”
Sucking in a harsh breath, I tried to still my emotions. Hector had hit a raw nerve by mentioning Annabel. “He is,” I spat out through gritted teeth.
“So this deal comes down to pussy?”
With a growl, I shot out of my seat. Before I could lunge across the table, Deacon threw his hand out to stop me. “We came to make a deal, not to be fucked with!” I snarled.
Hector’s lips quirked up in a twisted smile. “My apologies.”
After sucking in a few harsh breaths, I collapsed back into my seat. While I regulated my breathing, Deacon leaned forward in his chair. “One might question your allegiance considering your willingness to offer up one of your loyal men.”
“Members of our organization are expendable. They know that when they join.” With a sneer, he added, “To say that Mendoza is loyal would be far too complimentary. He’s always had his own agenda. But that stays within these walls.”
“I understand,” I replied.
Hector extended his hand. “So do we have a deal?”
For a moment, I eyed his hand. The last thing I’d ever wanted was to get in bed with the cartel. But Annabel’s safety was worth it.
I reached for his hand.“It’s a deal.”
He smiled. “I’m very glad to hear that. I will phone Juan and let him know everything is taken care of.”
“Including Mendoza?” Bishop asked.
Hector nodded. “He is no longer a threat to you.”
“My club, as well as my El Paso brothers, appreciate that.”
After Hector had shaken hands with the others, we headed out of the back room. When we got outside the restaurant, I exhaled the breath that I felt I had been holding since Mendoza had reared his head again.
“How does it feel to be the cartel’s bitch?” Bishop teased.
I snorted. “Fuck you.”
Throwing his arm around Bishop’s shoulder, Deacon wagged his brows. “You’re lucky Hector took the bait so easily. You were on the block next to suck cock to seal the deal.”
“Har, fucking, har,” he muttered, as he slid across the seat of his bike.
After putting on my helmet, I gunned my bike’s engine. We then rode out of the parking lot. Speeding up ahead of my brothers, I couldn’t wait to get back to Annabel.
Just as we rounded the curve about a mile from home, the unmistakable sound of gunfire rang out.
Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Deacon and Bishop spin out, their bikes crashing onto the pavement.
When Mac tried to miss their combined heap of metal, he overcorrected, sending him careening into the ditch.
When they didn’t move, I didn’t know if it was from the bike wreck injuries or if they had been shot. I started to turn my bike around when a bullet hit my back tire, and it was my turn to slide along the asphalt.
After struggling until my bike came to a stop, I lay on my back trying to catch my breath and heard squealing tires. Turning my head, I watched as a car came speeding toward us. Furiously I started trying to pull myself out from under my bike.
The car’s tires screeched to a stop, and a man jumped out just as I wiggled out from under my bike. I had no time to reach around my back for my own gun when the muzzle of a pistol was pointed at my head.
Although I had never laid eyes on him, I knew who it was. Mendoza stared down at me with lifeless black eyes. Then with one kick of his steel-toed boot, the world around me went dark.