Chapter 27
Tusk
W ell, if we thought we were going to have to hunt down the Sons of Rage, we would have been very much mistaken. They came rolling into Las Salinas and drove right down to circle around our clubhouse. They looked to be about forty strong and were riding an assortment of mostly Harleys. Some of them were expensive vintage bikes, and others looked like they might be works in progress, and there were a few new, tricked-out choppers. Leading the pack was a nice vintage bike with an older woman on the back.
I wouldn’t say Siege was panicking, but he was deeply concerned. “I’m gonna see if we can raise extra men from rival clubs.”
Rigs tells Evan, “Gather up the women and put them in the basement, it’s the safest place. Have the prospects watch over them like mother hens.”
Evan asks, “You want us locked and loaded, right?”
Rigs glances at his adopted son and nods. “Yeah, but no matter how bad it gets, don’t give Levi a weapon.”
“On it.” I watch Evan dart away to do his duty as a prospect.
When the vintage hog pulls up in front of the clubhouse, the older woman jumps off the back. She pulls off her helmet, and I swear to God, she looks like a much older version of Brittany. I find myself walking towards her without willing my feet to do so. Siege tries to pull me back, but I break free and keep walking.
When I get close, I realize the brother on the bike is their club president. He jerks his chin at me, like he knows me. He doesn’t even get pissy when I look his old lady up and down. She’s in really good shape, wearing black leather pants and a black biker shirt. Her helmet has the words ‘Queen Victoria’ scrolled across it in neat lettering.
That’s when it hits me like a bolt of lightning to my brain. I reach out and pull her into a gigantic hug. “Fucking hell, you’re my old lady’s grandmother.”
She just laughs when I pull back. “How did you guess?”
“She told me all about how you were her inspiration to run. She named our daughter after you. She’s the spit of you, and no offense ma’am, but if my Britt looks like you in twenty or thirty years’ time, I’m gonna be one lucky SOB,”
She laughs again at that and turns around and slaps the president on the shoulder. “Did you hear that, Rock? We’ve got a granddaughter, and she’s named after me.”
He snorts a laugh before getting off his bike. “Bet her nickname isn’t Queenie.”
Siege and Rigs edge up on either side of me. “What exactly is going on here?”
I put my arm around Queenie and tell them, “This is Brittany’s grandma, the one who ran away.”
Siege is still extremely suspicious, but I say, “We should invite them into the clubhouse for drinks.”
“Except, they’re the enemy, remember? Their club is giving cover to the man who stole your old lady.”
Rock snorts a laugh. “Naw, dog. That’s not what’s happenin’.”
Queenie nods. “Her uncle is lookin’ out for her there. We’re here to come up with a game plan for resolving this situation once and for all, preferably without bloodshed.”
Siege takes a step back. “Tusk is right, we should have a sit-down. Since you’re clearly Brittany’s people, you’re welcome.”
I know that Siege is taking a chance by inviting one-percenters into our clubhouse, but I also know there is something to be gained by being on good terms with one of the biggest and meanest clubs in California. Siege is a shrewd and calculating leader, and it has never been more evident than at this moment.
Evan and Levi quickly push some tables together in the middle of the room, and the leaders of both clubs sit together. The older prospects begin bringing beers and shot glasses, putting several bottles of our top-shelf whiskey at various intervals down the long table. Evan and Levi hustle off to throw meat on the grill.
After everyone has a drink in hand, Queenie turns to me. “Tell me all about my granddaughter and how you got together.”
I scratch my head and try to think about how to begin the Brittany story.
Siege speaks up. “Brittany came to us on a stormy night about six years back. She was apparently hitchhiking and stumbled across our clubhouse while looking for shelter from a downpour. We took her in, and she decided to stay for a while.”
Queenie’s face lights up with mischief. “So, she was a club girl, right?”
Siege nods. “Yeah, she was. She ain’t ashamed of that fact. We treated her really well.”
Queenie hits the table with one hand and downs a shot of whiskey before turning to her old man. “Did you hear that, Rock? Brittany was a club girl, like me.”
Rock smothers back a smile. “Yeah, that’s pretty amazing.”
Rigs asks, “What are the chances that both of you ran and ended up being club girls?”
Queenie says gleefully, “Astronomical, and that’s what makes it a damn miracle.”
Rock rolls his eyes. “I thought you gave up on believing in miracles a long time ago, baby.”
I pick back up with answering the question Queenie originally asked. “I came to the Savage Legion a couple of years ago, and let’s just say Brittany took a liking to me. There were a lot of things that went sideways, but we worked it out, and I put her in my property cut. We have a daughter who’s a little over four months old.” Pulling out my cell phone, I pull up my camera roll and hold my phone out, saying, “Do you want to see?”
Queenie snatches the phone so quick that I think she might have drawn blood. I can’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. She scrolls and then scrolls again before commenting on every single picture of Brittany and Victoria. Rock takes it in stride, as do the rest of us. Me? Despite the fact I’m worried about my woman, I’m tickled to meet Brittany’s grandmother and am beyond pleased that she seems so nice.
Rigs is the one who asks the important question. “How did your club end up providing security for an asshole like Silas Harper?”
Queenie is still caught up in the camera roll, so Rock answers. “We’d never sell our services to a dickweed like Harper. Our club has been on the lookout for Brittany since she first ran. Queenie was obsessed with taking her in and protecting her from that crazy cult of a church they all came from.”
Siege gestures around the bar. “I guess she did a good job of hiding out at our clubhouse. The brothers are pretty generous to our girls. Trust me, she wasn’t doing without.”
“Yeah, that makes sense as to why we couldn’t fuckin’ find her to save our lives. She popped up when an airline ticket was bought in her name. Unfortunately, when we were tracking down leads, we bumped into Harper doing the same.”
The brother sitting beside him says in a disapproving tone, “I voted for us to just drop the fucker right then and there.”
Queenie looks up from my phone. “My daughter loves that festering turd. She thinks the sun shines right out of his ass. I’m not making my own daughter miserable just because you’re trigger-happy.”
He grins and takes a drink of his beer before chuckling. “That’s why they call me Trigger, am I right?”
Rock drinks another shot and continues his story while I pour him another one. “We realized he had gathered the same intel we had, and that was gonna be a problem. He knew Brittany was protected by the Savage Legion, so we offered him our services. Hiring a bike club to fight off a bike club seemed like a good deal to him.”
I speak up, “I’m confused, because we torched his church and home, rescued his hostages, and took all the valuables we could find, but you guys didn’t show up to fight with us at any point.”
“We convinced him to hole up in an old church in our territory. My thought was if he got to Brittany before we did, it would make it easier to get her out.”
“So, why didn’t you go in with guns blazing and rescue her?”
Suddenly, Queenie puts the phone down on the table to talk. “They didn’t because we’re walking a thin line between hurting my daughter, who loves that stinking church with all her heart, and getting to Brittany before they rope her into marrying that ignoramus of a bishop they’re so enamored with.”
Rigs leans forward, “Forgive me, but it seems like we’re leaving something important out of the story, something that makes the whole situation make sense.”
All the men who accompanied her look at Queenie. She sighs and says, “Some of this might be on me. I was really messed up because I grew up in the church. Like Brittany, my parents arranged a marriage for me to a much older man. Only, I was young, na?ve, and didn’t know how to get out of it. He raped me on my wedding night and whenever he wanted after that. I gave birth to my daughter. My husband died in a sawmill accident, and that’s when I decided to take my daughter and run. Only, my family found out and forced me to leave my daughter behind. From then on, I hated everything about the church.”
Between sips of his beer, Rock murmurs, “Tell them the rest. Her old man deserves to know.”
“I was dirt poor until I hooked up with Rock. We built the Sons of Rage together from the ground up. He was the club president, but as his queen, I was responsible for everything non-club related. Let’s just say, we prospered. I knew my daughter would never leave the church, and if I gave her a chunk of money, she would just donate it to the church. Brittany was just a kid when I set her up with a savings account she could access when she turned eighteen. I liked to think she would see through the bullshit and leave the church one day. I wanted to save her from the hardships I endured when I left.”
Rock jumps ahead to speed her story along. “But my Queenie had nightmares that Brittany would be neglected to the point that something bad happened to her.”
“Well, I was real messed up back then. My therapist called that a fixed delusion. But I had this idea of how I could protect her.”
“Were you the one who came up with the idea that she was special because she was an Eve?” I ask.
Queenie frowns at me. “Of course not. That’s the kind of religious bullshit that only a warped mind like Harper could come up with. My idea was to leave her an inheritance that she could access once she was thirty.”
A question pops out before I can stop it. “Why would Harper want to marry her for money when he’s already filthy rich?”
Queenie perks up. “I wanted to leave her something that her parents and their church would kill for. Something so precious to their religion that they would make damn sure she survived to inherit it.”
“Where in the world did you get such a coveted treasure?” Evan asks.
“Of course, I didn’t have an actual item. So, I invented one. I wrote in my will that I had in my possession a map leading to a cave which held the lost Altar of Adam, which had, according to church lore, been carried across the sea by Masons during the early days. It’s just basically a large flat stone wrapped up in a cloth with Mason symbols on it and placed in a crate.”
I say doubtfully, “That doesn’t sound very believable.”
Queenie points out what should be obvious. “Yeah, most regular people with good reasoning skills would call bullshit on a story like that. The thing is, our Mormon sect was absolutely obsessed with shit like this. They have a metric ton of religious objects mentioned in Smith’s writings, and they chase after every tall tale and jump at every supposed clue. It was enough to make sure Brittany was cared for and protected. That’s the only thing that mattered to me.”
I feel like my brain is on fire. “So, how does this work? If Brittany is married to Harper when she inherits the map, does the church see it as half his?”
“Not quite. Everything that belongs to a woman, by definition, belongs to her husband as well. It’s just the way that crazy sect works.”
“Harper’s after the bogus religious artifact, Brittany is just a means to an end,” I muse out loud. “Just tell him it was all bullshit.”
Queenie admits, “I could do that, but I feel like it would be traumatizing to my daughter, who is still a true believer. I wish that I had gotten my act together sooner, so I wouldn’t have been so paranoid or that I could have found another way to appease my fears about her being harmed or neglected. Because now, no matter what I do, we’re gonna end up hurting someone I love.”
Rock points out sagely, “The priority is Brittany, not her mother.”
“You’re asking me to pick my granddaughter over my daughter.”
Rock responds, “Sometimes life is full of hard decisions, Queenie.”
Levi pops up out of nowhere with a platter of steaks, and Evan is right behind him with plates and flatware.
Levi asks innocently, “Why don’t you just curse Brittany or something like that?”
I tell Levi, “We’re not cursing my old lady. Get that idea out of your head right now.”
Rigs waves me away. “No, let’s hear what Levi has to say.”
Levi launches into a long-winded explanation. “What you need is some kind of plan that will draw your daughter closer to the church and give her more status, while at the same time making them not want anything to do with Brittany, right?”
Patch speaks up, “This is actually a really good idea. We could fabricate some kind of disease that hits every other generation. Any autosomal recessive disorder would do. They can cause things like organ dysfunction, developmental delays, neurological problems, immune system disorders, and skeletal abnormalities.”
I point out, “That only solves half the problem. It does nothing to draw Brittany’s mom closer to the church and people she cares about.”
Rigs frowns. “I think someone suggesting that because she’/s devout, God spared her from the disease might work, particularly if they’re extremely religious.”
Queenie speaks up, “I’m just looking for a solution that gives both my daughter and my granddaughter what they need without hurting the other.”
“Well, it’s a good thing you spoke up because we were getting ready to unload both barrels on Silas Harper.”
Queenie reminds us, “That’s why I came to talk to you. To make sure that didn’t happen.”
I begin working my way through this situation. “We have a contact person meeting with Harper tomorrow at midnight.”
Queenie’s voice turns angry. “Our people on the inside told us about the plan to bring my great-grandchild to Harper, and that’s where I draw the line. We’re not dragging an innocent baby into this. Tell me you understand that, Tusk.”
I immediately say, “Oh hell no. The plan was never to give up the baby or even bring her to a meet-up with Harper. The plan was more along the lines of ambushing him, getting my old lady back, and maybe giving him a little tune-up or even a dirt nap if he doesn’t seem to be getting it.”
Siege raises his voice slightly, “How about this for a plan? We keep the meeting at midnight with Harper. We ambush him like we planned and get Brittany back. Only, one of our bikes gets left behind, and your guys find fake lab work for Brittany showing some kind of nasty disease that strikes every other generation. That way, no taint of having the disease falls on her mother. There can also be a key to a safety deposit box in a sealed envelope along with a copy of Queenie’s will. Of course, Harper will steal the map, go on his great adventure, and if he comes up empty-handed, it will just be another dead end, and they’re used to running down dead ends anyway.”
Queenie perks up. “That actually sounds very doable.”