Chapter 28 Grudge
GRUDGE
“Something has shifted. We aren’t secure anymore. With the heat of the FBI raid, and the attack on me and Lucy, there’s something going down,” I say, looking at my senior members, who I’ve gathered in church once I’ve gotten Lucy settled with her laptop in my room.
Catfish chews on a toothpick. “It’s disconcerting.”
Jackal looks at Catfish. “‘Disconcerting?’ You swallow a dictionary?”
“Fucking an English teacher,” he says.
Wraith chuckles. “Your sister knows about that?”
“Hell no.” Catfish’s sister, Willa, is the principal of the school. “She’d skin me alive, if she knew. How was I supposed to know the brunette I met in the bar, with tits that defied gravity, was her latest hire?”
Atom laughs. “Maybe when you found out, you should have stopped fucking her.”
Catfish shakes his head. “Can’t…she’s got very flexible legs.”
Smoke slaps him on the back. “Better to have loved and lost than never have loved at all, or whatever that quote is.”
“Fuck me,” I mutter. “Can we get back to what’s going on?”
Catfish leans forward with a harmless smile on his face. “Why? Are you eager to get back to who you’re fucking.”
The casual way he says it rubs me up the wrong way. “Watch how you talk about Lucy.”
“I’m thinking Lucy and Grudgey-boy might have reached an agreement,” Smoke says.
“About fucking time.” Atom throws his hands up like he’s singing hallelujah.
“It’s not…” I can’t think of what to say next. Saying my relationship with Lucy is not what they think, is disingenuous.
Wraith reaches for the gavel. “I’ll say it if our president won’t. All in favor of Lucy De Bose becoming Grudge’s old lady?”
“Stop,” I shout. “Not yet. There’s more to this than Lucy’s father framing me. He’s in deep with the Rebels.” I made a promise to Lucy. We’d do this together. I step outside the door to church and grab my phone to call her.
“Hey, Daddy,” she says. And I try to bite back a smile, in spite of what’s going on around me.
“Can you come to my office?” I ask.
“Oh, am I in trouble?” There’s a flirtatious tone to her words.
The smile arrives. “No. But I need your help, Nancy Drew.”
“On my way.”
It takes her a minute to get to church. She opens the door and walks in like she owns the joint. Don’t know how she does it, being five foot nothing, but she has a superpower that works magic on everyone around her.
I kick out the chair on my right with my boot. “Sit, Bug.”
Tentatively, she looks around, then takes a seat. “What’s going on?”
I take her hand. “We’re about to take a vote on whether you’re gonna become my old lady.”
“You are?”
“But first, I need you to tell them what you know about the Rebels and your father, beyond him setting me up. They should know the full story before they vote.”
“Grudge, this isn’t how it’s done,” Smoke says.
I nod. “I know, brother. But it’s time I started to run this club my way.
” I turn to face Lucy. “And if Lucy is going to stand by my side while I do it, then I’m going to include her more than you all might be comfortable with.
She’s the smartest fucking woman I know, she’s gonna be my wife again, one day, and if I say she should be here, then she should be here. ”
I don’t need to look at my men, because that little fucking twitch is back across her nose as she fights back tears.
Wraith grins. “I’m gonna propose that vote again.”
“But I didn’t tell you what I know.” Lucy reaches for my hand, and I squeeze it to reassure her.
“Doesn’t matter,” Wraith says. “There’s not been a single old lady that’s joined the club, recently, who hasn’t come with her share of trouble. And nothing you could say, or any vote, could change your man’s mind. So, show of hands. I’m proposing that Lucy becomes Grudge’s old lady.”
I swallow deep when I see every hand go up in agreement. Hooking my foot around the base of Lucy’s chair, I tug her to me, grip around the back of her neck, and drag her lips to mine.
“Get used to sitting in that chair,” I mutter against her lips.
My brothers whoop and cheer.
“This is madness,” Lucy says.
I tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, avoiding her stitches. “No, Bug. It’s the rest of our lives. And you should know that Wes Granger is the ex-president of the Rebels, and I’m confident he’s WG in all your reports.”
“I need a word,” Catfish says hours later, storming into the kitchen where Lucy and I are eating pizza to avoid the cleanup happening in the bar.
After I kissed her, Lucy went through all the information she had, and she agreed to return to the law office to see if there was any further intelligence she could find in her father’s regular files.
My brothers had digested the news about the set up, and we stayed focused on running down some leads.
I can hear the sound of prospects vacuuming. And the scent of lemon floats through the air. Cleaning up the mess we make every day and setting the clubhouse to rights is part of being a prospect.
“Can it wait? We’re eating.”
Catfish shakes his head, but I see the pinched look in his narrowed eyes.
“One second.” I turn to Lucy. “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”
She nods. “I have pizza and beer. I’m good.”
I step into the rear lot of the clubhouse. It’s set up for parties. Wooden furniture, Adirondack chairs, a full outdoor grilling station. We should have winterized everything by now and I make a note to get some prospects on it in the morning.
“It’s gone,” Catfish says before we’ve stopped walking. His breath puffs in white clouds as he speaks.
“What is?”
“The money.”
My heart stops. “What money?”
He throws his hands out to the side. “The fucking money we said we’d put to one side instead of paying it out in dividends. All of it. Every fucking penny. The bank account is bone dry.”
I pull up the banking app I have on my phone and double-check what he’s saying.
Zero fucking dollars. Every damn cent.
“Call the bank in the morning. Figure out if it’s a mistake on their end. Meanwhile, I’m gonna call Vex.”
Catfish nods. “Just one thing: I swear to God, I didn’t take it.”
I nod. “I believe you, brother. I didn’t take it either.”
The only other person with access to the official bank details is Butcher, but I’ve known the man my whole life, and there’s no fucking way that he’s taken it.
I pull out my phone and dial the New Jersey chapter’s tech wizard.
“What the fuck, brother?” Vex asks. “You know what time it is?”
“Fuck, sorry. But we’ve got a problem. Our business account has been drained. You able to help us find where it went?”
“I’m up,” he says.
I hear a woman’s voice in the background ask sleepily if everything is okay.
“I’m fine, sweetheart. Go back to sleep.” There’s a prolonged pause. “You owe me for waking my old lady.”
“Again. Sorry. Having a fucking heart attack, here.”
A door clicks shut. “Fine. You got your login credentials?”
“Catfish will message them, now.”
Catfish pulls out his phone and sends them in separate messages.
“We sent them,” I say.
“Gimme a few minutes.”
I look up at the sky, wondering if this was Butcher’s life all these years, bouncing from one crisis to another. I wonder if he ever felt overwhelmed, and how long it took his shoulders to grow big enough to carry all this for the club.
Because, right now, I feel like I’m swimming in a pool of molasses.
The clatter of Vex’s keys over his keyboard sounds like a tap dancer. There’s barely a pause. And occasionally a hmm.
“Last access was nine p.m.,” Vex says finally. “The IP address is Utah. None of you were in Utah, I presume.”
“We’re all here,” I say. “Got some shit going on, so no one is out of state, right now. What can you see?”
I switch the phone to speaker so Catfish can hear too.
“Funds got pulled in chunks. Three transfers. Six minutes. The first third went to a business account in Utah. The second was exchanged into crypto. The third has gone to a dummy account for a shell company out of Colorado.”
“That’s not a fucking bank error,” Catfish says.
“You can follow it?” I ask.
“I can follow most of it. Whoever did this knows their shit. They got a little cocky, though. They left a trace in the crypto jump. But it’s gonna take me a little time to dig into it.”
I take a deep breath and offer my first favor as a president. At my last visit to see Dad, he told me to be real careful offering favors because they tend to come back when the stakes are highest. When there is much to lose.
“Get me names, Vex. I’ll owe you. That was payroll. Rent for the businesses. I got guys who won’t get paid because of this.”
“Then, I suggest the thieves start running, because I’ll find them. You got anything else connected? Any leads,” Vex asks.
I think about Lucy’s father’s phone. It might not be relevant, but if I can roll it into this one problem, I’ll owe only one favor. “We’ve got a phone. Not sure what’s on it. But it belongs to someone loosely connected to the Rebels.”
It’s not a lie, but Catfish raises an eyebrow in my direction as I stretch the truth.
“Gonna have to think about how to tackle that one without you couriering it to me. Let me work on getting the money, first. I’ll get back to you.”
“Thanks, Vex.” The phone line goes dead.
Catfish puts his hand to his forehead. “Feel like I’m gonna puke.”
“Yeah. Don’t feel so great myself. Even once we figure out how this was done, we’re going to have to figure out how to shore ourselves up. Go home. Get some rest. Once we get the intel from Vex, we’re gonna need a plan and resources to fix it.”
Catfish nods. “You should tell the brothers. Call church early in the morning. Send ‘em all home for some sleep without hangovers. You included.”
“Good advice. Thanks, brother. Drive safe.”
I watch Catfish as he ducks back inside. “Why can’t I, for once, have a fucking win?” The words are muttered aloud.
On autopilot, I send the message I’ve received hundreds of times before.
Church.
I put in the time.
Then, I write a second note, telling everyone to get some sleep because tomorrow’s going to be a real long day.
When I slip my phone into my pocket, I look up at the ink-black sky.
I hate this time of year as the daylight hours decreases in parallel with the temperatures.
I’m more of a warm-weathered person, and it feels as though Mother Nature is putting shutters on my soul for four months.
On the way back inside, I see a beer can lying in the snow, and I kick it hard, sending it flying toward the door.
Tomorrow, I’ll find out who left it outside and put them on snow-shoveling duty for the rest of winter.
It might seem like overkill for a piece of trash, but A, I’m already pissed…
and B, you let one piece of trash slide, the next, your clubhouse looks like a hog pen.
When I walk to the door, I pick it up and put it in the trash. No point leaving it outside to get covered in more snow.
Maybe I’m also feeling itchy because it’s the start of cage season. I need to do the winter maintenance on my bikes and get used to the idea that most driving will be done in my truck.
Lucy is sitting with her laptop open in front of her when I reach the kitchen. She’s munching absent-mindedly on a piece of pizza while her nose wrinkles as she studies whatever she’s looking at.
The lights are on, though they’re dimmed, but the effect is almost like Lucy is in one of those noir crime movies. All she needs is a long cigarillo or something to make the image perfect.
Her fingers move furiously over her keyboard. And periodically, she’ll bite down on her lower lip as she considers something.
My mom once told her she was too pretty to be a lawyer.
And Lucy just laughed, thanked my mom for the compliment, and then, revealed that she thought it was going to be her secret weapon.
That men would be too egotistical to take her seriously, and then she’d swoop in and get her client off the charges.
She’d bank on them routinely underestimating her.
But watching her now, I wonder why she thought she’d be underestimated. She looks utterly competent, and I’d trust her to represent me in a heartbeat.
As I watch her, I wonder if, in the same way Butcher brought Greer to the fold to help the club out medically when we need it, maybe I can convince Lucy to join us to represent members of the club.
Even better, I wonder if she would have the time to figure out if there are any grounds to get my father’s sentence reduced.
I’m realistic enough to know a full-blown appeal is out of the question.
But if there is any trick she could use to give him a shot at riding his bike again before he dies, I owe it to Dad to ask.
She looks up, and her face changes from one of concentration to that look she always had when she caught me watching her. Like it had been years and not minutes since she last saw me. Like I was her man. Like I was the one who had the ability to make every day perfect for her.
Forgot how good that feeling is.
“Sorry,” she says. “I didn’t know how long you’d be, so figured I could catch up on some emails.”
“It’s not a problem. If you have work, you have work. I don’t want to get in the way of it.”
She puts her chin on her knuckles. “It’s nothing that can’t wait. I was just being productive.”
“Everyone’s gone home. Checked every room myself, and only yours and my vehicles are in the lot,” Catfish says, breaking the moment as he stomps into the kitchen. “I’m out. You okay locking the place down, Prez?”
“Yeah. I got it. Get some rest.”
“Night, Lucy,” Catfish says. “It’s good to see your face around here again.”
Lucy smiles at him. “It’s good to be back.”