Chapter 23
TWENTY-THREE
STONE
As I sped my way back to the lodge, my mind swirled.
I had no idea what the fuck to believe. It would have been easy to believe Hayley had she just forked over the documents she said she took pictures of.
For all I knew, she was an expert bluff.
Like her damn father. I bit down onto my lower lip, continuing to taste her as I raced back to the lodge.
I mean, I felt something for Hayley. Something strong.
Something I’d never experienced before. But could I trust her?
Even with who her father was?
“Why didn’t you just show me the damn pictures?” I murmured to myself.
I pulled up to the lodge, and the guys were standing there.
Waiting for me. I saw them all on edge, which meant Texas had told them about the damn phone call.
I parked my bike and jumped up the steps.
I ushered my men back inside. I closed the door and locked it and then went around and pulled all the blinds to the windows.
“Is it true?” Bronx asked.
“Are we compromised?” Notch asked.
“Thanks,” I said flatly, looking to Texas.
He shrugged it off, though. Like he hadn’t done anything wrong.
“Look, whether tonight has been compromised or not, we can’t afford not to do it. I’d rather take my chance with the San Diego police than with a bunch of pissed off Chinese guys,” I said.
“Who’s your source?” Bronx asked.
“Not something I’m sure I can trust,” I said.
“Did they have any evidence that we’d been compromised?” Notch asked.
“Supposedly. I couldn’t get them to show me the proof,” I said.
“But they know about the operation tonight,” Texas said.
“Nope. Only that they assumed something was going down tonight,” I said.
The guys didn’t look convinced, though.
“We’re going to stick to the schedule as planned. Everyone just needs to be on high alert. If you see anything fishy—anything at all—you bail and get to the safehouse on the other side of the city. Whatever comes of it, we can defend ourselves from that outpost. Got it?” I asked.
All of my men nodded before I took a look at the clock.
“We’ve got an hour to prepare ourselves before we need to head out. Get your heads screwed on straight, do whatever you have to do to clear your minds, and prepare for a busy night,” I said.
We all dispersed, and I made a pot of coffee.
I needed caffeine to make sure I was alert for the night.
The hour passed much quicker than I would have liked, and I still wasn’t sure I’d made the right decision to tell the guys what was going on.
But letting them know there was a possibility we might be compromised would ensure them looking out for anything and everything.
A car that was out of place. A shadow that kept moving too much.
Anything that could denote we were walking into trouble.
Then, it was time to disperse.
I hung back for the nine fifteen shipment.
And when they arrived, I quickly began unloading.
I got the wooden cases of guns into the shed and walked them down the stairs.
The shed was nothing but a defense mechanism.
It hid the actual storage facility and emergency bunker I had built underneath the damn thing.
I heard Texas pull up with the second shipment thirty minutes later, and between the two of us we had shit unloaded and locked away within the hour.
“Ready to go check on Bronx and Notch?” I asked.
“You want me coming along?” Texas asked.
“I want you heading for our storage locker. I want you to check it out before we even get there with the guns. I’ll go to the guys and help with transport. But if you see anything fishy—”
“I’ll call you. Right.”
We went our separate ways, and I headed for the dock where Notch and Bronx were waiting.
I followed behind them on my bike, on the lookout for anything that looked suspicious.
I diverted them down a few back roads just to avoid some police posts I knew were common in the area, which added time to our trip, but I didn’t mind.
If it kept us out of eyesight of the police stations, I wouldn’t lose sleep over the added minutes.
Then, we arrived at the storage locker.
“Ready to unload?” Notch asked.
“How did things go on your end, guys?” Bronx asked.
“We’re good on our end. And I haven’t found anything fishy around here,” Texas said.
“Want to start unloading, then?” Notch asked.
I shook my head. “We wait for Harry and his guys. They’ll help us unload.”
There was something in my gut I didn’t like about all this.
About this new gang they were selling guns to.
It was a last-minute deviation from a plan thrust onto us last-minute.
After we had come to an agreement. My mind rushed with all sorts of things that had changed.
Harry in our meeting with the guys and their guns.
Harry barging into the lodge unannounced.
Him threatening me in order to get my crew into this new shipment of guns in the first place.
“We should have checked him for a wire,” I murmured.
“What was that?” Texas asked.
“I think Cheng’s working with the police,” I said.
“Say what now?” Bronx asked.
“Just shut up and do exactly as I say. All right?” I asked.
I hopped into the truck and drove it off into a corner parking space away from our rented storage locker.
I shuffled the guys around the corner into the shadows and we rolled our bikes into the woods.
The shadows would conceal us from the end of the row of lockers into the woods where we could get on our bikes and get the fuck out of dodge.
“Stone, what’s going—”
I put my finger to my lips, shushing Notch as a car came up the road.
I saw a vehicle I recognized. Harry Cheng and his blacked-out town car.
We all peered around the corner as he got out, but instead of looking around for us, he looked out toward the road.
We all watched as an unmarked sedan pulled up.
It drove up beside Harry’s car, and when the door opened, I watched as proof of Hayley’s theory slipped out.
Fucking Detective Woolf got out of that damn vehicle.
“Shit,” I hissed.
“We have to get to our bikes,” Texas whispered.
“You guys used gloves, right?” I asked.
“Like always,” Notch said softly.
“Let me get some pictures,” Bronx said.
He pulled out his phone and got pictures of Harry and the detective talking.
Smiling. Shaking one another’s hands. It looked like they were discussing some sort of plan before Harry’s eyes fell onto the truck.
I watched his face fall. His head started whipping around like he was looking for something. Or someone.
Or some people.
“You got them?” I asked.
“Yep, and videos,” Bronx said.
“Come on then. Let’s get out of here,” I said.
Just as we made it into the woods, my phone started vibrating.
We all swung our legs over our bikes and walked them quickly out the other end of the woods.
I pulled my phone out and saw Harry had called—over, and over, and over again, leaving voicemail after voicemail and blowing up my text messages.
“Should we answer that?” Bronx asked.
We sat on the curb of the road about five hundred yards away from the storage unit. I pulled up my voice mailbox and began playing through Harry’s messages. I had them on speakerphone as the guys gathered around me, eager to hear what our betrayer had to say to us.
But it was the last voice message that made me both irate and worried.
“Stone, it’s Cheng. I don’t know where the fuck you guys are or where the hell my guns are, but if I’m staring at the truck you guys used, then you guys are going to pay for this.
If they’re locked in that truck and I can’t get to them?
If you’ve bailed on me and aren’t here to open this storage locker you agreed to let us use?
You’re done for. My men will come after you with all we’ve got.
And we won’t stop until you’re all slaughtered. ”
I looked around at my guys and saw them puffing their cheeks out.
“Ready to get out of here now?” I asked.
“I think we should head to our safehouse anyway,” Texas said.
“And I think that’s a brilliant idea. Come on. I’ll stop and get us food along the way,” I said.
Then, we all struck up our bikes and rode off into the distance.
Leaving the detective, Cheng, and all those fuckin’ guns behind.
If they wanted to come after us, we’d be ready.
In a fortified bunker Texas funded of his own volition so we’d have a place to camp out if shit like this ever happened.
We had an arsenal of weapons and a cache of ammunition.
Grenades. Flash bangers. Stink bombs. Bulletproof vests.
Other clothes that fit us and camouflaged us with the night. The works.
But that meant we’d have to lay low.
I should have trusted Hayley. Fuckin’ hell, I should have listened.
And if she could ever forgive me, I’d never make that mistake again.
I’d never question her loyalty—or her feelings—to me again.