Chapter 15
FINGER
Walking slowly across a field, we are all in combat clothing and weaponed up.
Cilla discussed what was happening with Pres, as told to her by Bono, Tank, and Pyro.
It seems the three of them have been rushing around and listening to conversations.
Pyro even burned the ass off a ghost that was related to the bomber.
We don’t give a shit about his name. What does Nicholas Denning mean to any of us? Nothing, that’s what. Bomber is enough!
Tracker is running quietly, which you would think is hard for a man his size, but he does it so smoothly that you can’t do anything but admire it. His teeth are white in the darkness because of the shit-eating grin on his face.
Stopping behind a fence line, we all duck and watch the warehouse just beyond. “Can you imagine what Kennedy would do if given half a chance?” Tracker whispers to Cap, who is on the opposite side to Tracker from where I am kneeling.
“Will you shut up about Kennedy! You missed your chance. We would not have met her if it wasn’t for the fight nights the Satan’s Guardians MC ran.
So, let’s move on from her, shall we?” Cap snaps, but I am struggling not to laugh.
We all know that Tracker wants to find a woman with spirit and who can challenge his dominance.
I can’t help but stir things some. “Well, Pres needs a First Lady that has sass. I mean a prim and proper woman who has no spine won’t be much good. Can you imagine what the club women would put her through? Nah, Pres needs someone who can say fuck you, and mean it, in every sense of the word.”
“Shut up, Finger. Concentrate on the job at hand,” Cap snaps. I don’t miss Tracker looking over at me and grinning. Yeah, he agrees with me.
Shrugging, I don’t wait for Cap or Tracker. I get to my feet and stay as low as possible after climbing the fence. I close in on the warehouse. Why these bad guys always pick a warehouse to hide in I don’t know, but it seems to be the scenario.
Stopping when I hear voices talking about how boring it is standing guard, I smirk to myself. It is going to stop being boring in a minute. I think to myself.
Tracker surges from the side of me, grabs one of the guards and cuts his throat before I can jump to my feet.
The second guard launches himself at Tracker.
Now, I have to tell you that Tracker is a martial arts specialist, and only because he loves fighting so much.
His love of fighting has saved all our lives at one time or another.
Mayhem ensues, and I stick to Tracker, watching his back as he plows through one man after another. Brothers are fighting or watching the back of a brother who is fighting. There are more men here than we expected. All must be waiting for ZeBach to arrive. Now where the fuck is our bomber?
As things settle, Tracker stands in the center of the warehouse and bellows, “NICHOLAS DENNING, COME OUT, COME OUT WHEREVER YOU ARE!”
Oh, for God’s sake, Tracker! Yeah, he said that in a singsong fashion, taunting the asshole to show himself.
“You think you’ve won now, Colt Burrows?” A voice states, and not overly loudly. Taunting! Mistake…big mistake…
Tracker throws his head back laughing, but it’s the one that when you know him, know it is not a humorous laugh! Oh no, he is pissed off and someone is going to get hurt, or dead!
“Come out and face me, Nicholas. Don’t be shy.
You are nothing but a mercenary, hired to blow up brothers you fought beside.
You are the scum of the earth, and let me see you, let me see what a fallen brother looks like.
” Tracker is taunting too, and my money is on my Pres.
All this with the bomber has to conclude, and then we can move on ZeBach.
A man, around 6’2” walks toward Tracker from the shadows.
He is a cocky fucker. Smirking while obviously thinking that he can bring down the taller man.
Pres, however, is standing relaxed and calm.
“Ah, here you are. Come out of the shadows, like a cockroach after a meal.” We are all watching and nodding in agreement with our Pres.
“Let’s not fuck around here, hey, Colt. Let’s get it done.
” Nicholas launches himself at Tracker. Throwing out a roundhouse kick when he gets close enough to an immobile Tracker.
Tracker grabs the ankle a second before it would hit, twists and throws, which has Nicholas throwing his hands out to stop the impact as he hits the ground.
Nicholas jumps to his feet, laughing lightly, more to himself than to us.
He has just realized this is not going to be as easy as he first thought.
For the next few minutes, they both throw a punch or kick, but none have much of an impact.
We can all see the moment Nicholas decides he has had enough of playing around and produces a knife from under his sleeve.
“Ah, now you are talking,” Tracker smirks. I side-eye Cap who side-eyes back at me. We both know that particular smirk means Tracker has had enough too, and what is about to come is the storm.
The way Nicholas holds his knife and the way he almost relaxes tells its own story. He knows how to use a knife, and he is confident that he is going to kill Tracker.
Nicholas plays with Pres, taunting him, yet more than once comes close to causing some harm. I let out a gasp as one thrust gets close, and I’m surprised when I get an elbow to the ribs.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? Pres is playing him like a fool.” Cap grins at me and shakes his head.
Watching Pres instead of Denning, I take more notice of his moves, and I see a pattern emerge. Pres is deliberately leaving openings for the knife thrust or slash and seemingly recovering at the last instant. Cap is correct. It is not Nicholas Denning who is doing the playing, but our Pres.
After several minutes of this, I see the understanding on Nicholas’ face. He now knows he’s being played, and Tracker sees the moment too.
“I’m done playing. It’s time for you to die. You should never have taken this contract, and I’m going to ensure that you don’t get to accept another,” Tracker snarls.
Pres’ movements become a blur of motion, and there are several grunts of pain from Nicholas.
Tracker targets one part of the body at a time, practically dismantling Nicholas piece by piece with his fists.
Grabbing the wrist of the hand that is still holding the knife, Tracker twists and lifts.
The knife drops to the floor when there is an audible crack from the arm.
Nicholas has nothing left to give and is on his knees. His tank is empty, and Pres looks at him with disgust.
“You’re just a worthless piece of shit, a waste of fresh air.
You’ve obviously done your killing from a distance and never faced an enemy face to face.
You’re going to watch me while I end you.
” Taking the knife from the floor, Tracker holds Nicholas’ head by his hair, exposing the throat.
“This is for all those who you killed from afar, you coward.” When Nicholas closes his eyes, Tracker says, “Open your eyes. You need to see how a man with honor kills.”
When his eyes open, Tracker places the knife against Nicholas’ chest, over his heart, and presses it home. The eyes go wide for a few seconds and then close forever.
“Burn the place to the ground and let’s go home,” Pres states to us all, and we quickly rush to do his bidding.
Morning came around with none of us having slept. Bessy is in the kitchen handing out breakfast casserole and other options. I’m going to check in with Cilla. She apparently made no fuss about moving rooms, which surprised me. I honestly thought she would throw a tantrum about it.
Before I reach my room, the door opens and Cilla walks out. Looking fresh and rested and feisty, oh yes, she looks full of sass this morning.
“Good morning, Mason,” Cilla says as she attempts to strut past me.
“Good morning, Cilla,” I reply, but snap my arm out and snag her around the waist. Turning her quickly, I place her back against the wall and lock her in with both my arms on the wall beside her.
Deciding that is not close enough I lay my forearms on the wall beside her and lean in close.
“Did you sleep well?” I do my best to purr and watch for her reaction.
Nothing…okay, let’s try a growl! Yeah, that one definitely got me a reaction, and I move in taking her mouth as soon as she opened it slightly with the reaction.
She had a taste of minty toothpaste, along with a signature flavor that was entirely her own.
Sweet, real sweet, and something I’m not going to get bored with tasting.
My tongue confidently enters her mouth, a bold exploration that sweeps over her tongue and the roof of her mouth, a shared dance of entwined sensation.
When Cilla sighs, I know she’s enjoying this as much as I am.
“Hey, you two, stop that. We don’t want to see you two doing more than kissing, you know, fornicating in the hallway…”
Cilla jerks but cannot move as I still have her back against the wall. I turn my head and give Phoenix a filthy look, which, of course, has him smirking and laughing as he walks away. Cilla bobs under my arm and heads towards the stairs. I turn chuckling, “We’ll finish this later, Cilla.”
Mumbling under her breath, Cilla quickly leaves me standing in the hallway with a smirk on my face. Yeah, this is going to be fun. I should have chased her earlier, but I’m a biker and we are not always quick on the draw when it comes to women.
Two hours later I’m sitting in Pres’ office along with the other officers and listen to Cilla who Pres has called here to answer questions.
Cilla is doing her best not to look at me, but when I move to sit beside her, she gives me a squint-eyed look. Tracker places his hand over his mouth so Cilla can’t see the shit-eating grin he has going on at my antics. Everyone else is blank-faced and doing well to hide their amusement.
“Bono said they killed her because she’d lost her usefulness, and yes, we have another snitch.
Someone you all know, someone you’ve all trusted.
He won’t say who it is for some reason that he’s not telling me,” Cilla looks at Pres with a frown.
“Why would he protect this person?” She asks Pres who is now frowning too.
“Someone we all know. Someone we all trust. Has to be a brother who has been here a long time. So we can eliminate the prospects. If we are looking at anyone, I would guess at Snake,” Tracker throws the last out with more than a little conviction.
Rides leans forward in his seat, “He has been acting shifty for a while.”
“Yeah, I’ve noticed that too. I’ve also noticed he’s not doing the fundraising that he should have been covering,” Books throws into the conversation.
“Going back to Primrose. They didn’t just kill her. They beat her to death. Why do that? Why not just put a bullet in her?” Keys asks, looking at all of us.
Cilla closes her eyes, then looks at Keys.
“Tank has joined us here and said ZeBach is not human. He’s a monster that needs stamping out.
He enjoyed the show his men put on when they beat Primrose to death.
It was done purely for entertainment, Keys.
Let me see if I can persuade Bono to tell me the name of the snitch.
” We all wait quietly, watching Cilla look at the wall.
Well, she is looking at the wall to us, but obviously she’s seeing Bono.
“Bono, for God’s sake, man, tell us who the fuck is snitching.
We don’t want any brother dying because of this fucker, so come on.
I’m going to tell all the brothers if they die to kill you when they get over there.
Pyro, if you are there make him tell us, or light up his ass,” I snarl, because I’m sick of this playing with us.
Cilla looks at Pres, and after closing and opening her eyes, which you could describe as slow motion, she whispers, “Snake!”
The room is silent, but more than one of us is nodding our heads, showing that we are not shocked and confirming what we had been thinking.
“Thanks, Cilla. You can go,” Pres watches Cilla leave the room before he turns to us. “This is what we are going to do,” we all lean forward, listening to our President's orders on how to remove a snitch from our ranks.
Before leaving the office, I heard Coin speaking with Tracker about Scribe and arranging the meeting.
I can leave that with Coin, unless he asks me for help.
I know he can deal with the financial side of things.
It is the side where the shop is concerned that he may need me.
I’m an enforcer, after all. All muscle and meanness, unless it concerns one beautiful, feisty woman, and then I am the opposite side of the coin.