Chapter Five
P at was losing patience and he was losing it fast.
“Fast the fuck forward,” he said.
They were at the bar, Thomas was going through the surveillance footage from the previous night. Dylan, the sheriff, was also there.
This was one of the reasons he insisted the club have their own hookup to the town’s main security frame.
Bull, Dylan, and the club had agreed to this level of security after Bull’s father died, and he took over the Chaos and Carnage MC. They wanted to be able to keep an eye on the town, and see if anyone was attempting to come charging through to claim their turf.
The bar didn’t have a lot of security. Just a few cameras pointed into the parking lot. It was dark last night, and it had also been cold, so not a lot of people saw who did shit to his bike.
He watched as the car pulled up. The footage was too damn blurry to get a clear license plate. They saw a guy step out of the car, carrying a large gun, the kind that had to be held with two hands, and could fire multiple rounds, which he did.
“Zoom in,” Pat said.
“For fuck’s sake, Pat,” Thomas said. “This is not some elaborate television show with state-of-the-art security. We have the basics.”
“But you have zoom,” Pat said.
He leaned over the man, and showed him exactly how to zoom in.
“Oh, okay, sorry. I’m sorry I’m not perfect in knowing exactly what you want, and to get it to you right away.”
He ignored him. He and Thomas were usually all right with each other. There was no bad blood, but last night his bike had been targeted, and he wanted to know who did it.
The cartel was involved. That was clear. He didn’t know who they had gotten to do their dirty work for them, and that pissed him off, big time.
He looked over the man, and there was no clear indication, but there was ink on his neck.
“Are you going to print that picture off for me, or do I have to show you what to do?” Pat asked.
“Asshole,” Thomas said.
The sound of the printer could be heard in the distance.
“This is not good,” Dylan said.
“It’s a long shot that it is any real trouble,” Bull said.
Pat didn’t say what he knew everyone was thinking. Bullshit. They all knew this was the start of potential trouble. This might not have come directly from cartel hands, but they were behind it.
He looked at the markings on the man’s neck. It wasn’t a great picture, but it was something he could work with.
“I’m going to check out a couple of the tattoo parlors around here,” Pat said.
“Hold on just a minute,” Dylan said. “What happened to your bike last night is a crime. This is something I will take care of.”
Pat looked at Dylan. The man was a good sheriff, in a way. He was good for the Chaos and Carnage MC, as he knew when to look the other way. He usually knew when to come to them especially when it was far out of his ability. Right now, with his bike, Dylan was far out from what he could handle.
“Dylan, going after this guy could get you killed. He may have taken orders from someone who is part of a much bigger organization than anything you have ever faced before. This is club business, and to keep your life, along with this little town, you’ll have to leave it to me.”
“Pat’s right. Whoever fired that gun wasn’t acting right, and we have reason to believe it could lead back to the cartel,” Bull said.
Dylan visibly paled.
“You don’t want this,” Rusty, their enforcer, said.
“I’ll let you boys handle it,” Dylan said, while swallowing and looking somewhat terrified. “Well, seeing as you don’t need me, and this was just a simple dispute amongst friends, I will leave you to it.”
Within minutes, they heard his car’s engine turn over, and then he was gone.
“Wow, I don’t know if I should be disappointed, impressed, or just worried for the town of Carnage that we somehow have a coward in the sheriff’s office,” Thomas said.
“He means well,” Bull said.
“Means well. You mention the cartel and he runs out of here. You guys aren’t suspicious and like, shitting your pants?” Thomas asked. “Am I supposed to be worried about the bar?”
“I’m going to have men stationed at the bar. You don’t have to worry.”
“I’d love to stay and chat, but I’ve got shit to do.”
“Anyone notice that Pat suddenly has attitude?” Grant said.
He and Grant didn’t have the best track record. Actually, that wasn’t true, Grant always seemed to have an issue with him.
“Do you want to sit on your ass and wait around to get shot?” Pat asked.
“You see, that’s the thing. You’re usually so calm, so in control.
Nothing bad can make Pat lose his cool. Yet, you’ve got attitude, you’re snapping, and you’re insulting.
I like it. It kind of reminds me of me.” Grant then laughed, and touched his VP patch.
“Maybe I’ve rubbed off on you in all the right ways. ”
Pat did not have time for this. He looked toward Bull and without needing to say a word, he waited.
Bull nodded. “Yeah, go and figure it out, and be careful. If it is a cartel order, that could mean they’re close, and they’re expecting you.”
He was hoping for it.
Leaving the bar, he stepped out, and he always had a backup, but now his backup needed a fucking backup.
“Don’t for a second think you’re going somewhere without me,” Rusty said, following him outside.
“There’s not going to be any pussy.”
“Ha-ha, very funny, but in case you don’t remember, I’m the enforcer here, and it’s my job. So why don’t you keep your wiseass comments, and just tell me which place we’re hitting first.”
He gave the name of the tattoo parlor that had recently opened. It was right at the end of the main street in Carnage. It was so new, Pat didn’t even know the name of the guy running it.
“You’re going to Edith’s place,” Rusty said. “So, there is pussy I’ll get to see.”
“Edith’s place?”
“Yeah, she has got a fucking great mouth. Does some of the best ink around, but she has issues. She might not want to talk to you with me tagging along.”
“Then why the fuck are you tagging along?” Pat asked.
“Because I get to make sure you don’t get killed.”
“I won’t get killed.”
“Dude, there are no rules now, you know that, right?”
“I don’t need rules to take care of myself. It’s a case of me or them, and you know what, it’s going to be me.” He straddled his bike, and without another word, he was on the road, heading toward Carnage.
It wasn’t a long ride by bike, and he was pissed off.
There was nothing wrong with his current bike, but it was his backup, and he hadn’t spent a lot of time breaking this bike in.
He was pissed that he’d not taken the time to get it feeling just right.
It felt like a new bike, and he didn’t quite trust the machine yet.
Arriving at Edith’s place, the town was quiet, but the parlor shop was open. The red neon OPEN sign glowed.
“She’s an early riser but goes to bed early,” Rusty said.
“Is there anyone in this town you haven’t fucked?”
“Yeah, there are quite a few, thank you very much.”
“Name one?”
“The fabric shop women. Never even gotten close to them.”
Pat felt his hands clench. “And you’ll never go fucking near them,” he said.
Rusty looked at him and then held up his hands. “Whoa, do I need to remind you I’m your club brother right now?”
He didn’t like the thought of Rusty sniffing around Ava, Violet, or their mother. He had yet to properly meet the mother, but on paper, she looked like a good woman. The other day at the dog place hadn’t exactly been ideal.
“You keep clear of the fabric shop. You got it?”
“Dude, seriously, I’m starting to wonder about you. You got a thing for the fabric girls, they are all yours.”
He wasn’t about to get into it. Shaking his head, he entered the shop, and the air had a scent of lemon.
The woman behind the counter looked up. She smiled at Pat, but the moment she caught sight of Rusty, it turned into a glare. “What the fuck do you want?”
“I see that you remember me.”
“Remember you. You fucked me, got free ink, and stalked out like a little bitch, and gave me the fucking clap, you piece of shit.”
“In my defense, I didn’t know I had it.”
Edith held a pair of scissors in her hands, and Pat had a feeling she was not afraid to use them.
“Look, you can beat the crap out of him any other time you want. Destroy his bike, or better yet, cut off his dick. I am all for it. I need to know if you have any clues as to who this guy is.” He pulled out the piece of printed paper.
At first, Edith didn’t look at him. Rusty, the coward, was hiding behind him.
“You look pretty, Edith,” Rusty said.
“Shut the fuck up,” Pat said, before Edith got the chance.
Clearly, him telling Rusty to shut up made her decision to help him. She snatched the piece of paper and looked at the ink.
“Nah, this shit is not my work. I like more intricate detail.”
From the artwork he saw on her arms, leading up to her neck, along with the images in the parlor, he could see that.
“I don’t even know if that is Ruebin’s call though, either. You’re better off asking him. If it’s not him, then he will know who’s mark it is.” She offered Pat a smile, which disappeared to Rusty. “Get the fuck out.”
“Come on, Edith, we had a good time.”
“Get the fuck out.”
She literally jumped across the counter, complete with scissors.
Pat walked out of the shop, and Rusty followed, only the club brother looked a little more panicked.
“Do you think she would have cut off my dick?” he asked.
He looked at Rusty. “Yeah, I do. You gave her the clap?”
“Okay, I didn’t mean to, and besides, I got it all cleaned up, and I even went to her with some roses and told her she needed to get clean.
I went to all the women I fucked, and they all knew they had to get checked.
Is it my fault they might have spread it to their boyfriends or potential husbands?
That is not my fault. I didn’t tell them to sleep with me. ”
He looked at Rusty and shook his head. “You’re gross, you know that, right?”
“Hey, I am not gross. I’m just a man well-traveled in the pussy.”