31. Dante
31
DANTE
L ucas Gables is definitely not what I’m expecting. A tall, imposing man with salt and pepper hair, he seems to have one foot already in the grave before I pull up to a warehouse that is situated in neutral territory. This ensures my safety as well as his. The man has a strong handshake and claps me on the back like he is in the presence of greatness, even though our paths have never before had occasion to cross. We remain standing, surrounded by dust and debris from a time many years ago when this warehouse had served a purpose other than to house clandestine meetings.
“Your request to meet with me came as a surprise,” Lucas starts, his curious gaze sliding over me. Yes, he is definitely in awe of me.
“This meeting would not have been necessary had your men not attacked one of my strongholds.”
Lucas cocks his head and flicks an uneasy look my way, before his eyes fall on the envelope in my hand, an inquisitive expression on his face. Something that smells like fear licks the edges of his face before worry sets in. I open the envelope and shuffle the photos out, before I fling them at his chest. I watch as they slide down his body and coat the floor, note his gasp of surprise and the way his eyes move slowly to the floor as he confirms what they are. The photos are blown up to such an extent, there is no escaping the images that flash before his eyes. The identity of each and every man that participated in the attack. Photos of what I assume are eight men that belong to his club.
Lucas uses the tip of his boot to slowly spread the photos, concentrating on one in particular that catches his eye. His mouth twitches, then his eye, as the face of Moneybags’ would be rapist looks up at him from its position on the ground. Lucas visibly blanches; he may be many things, but a murderer and a rapist he is not. The background check Pietro did on him has produced an unblemished past, proving that the saint was too straight to be playing in a field full of sinners. In that moment, I understand two things about the man. That he is furiously angry at the man in the photo, but he is not surprised. And the second thing is that he has nothing to do with the attack on my safehouse – of this, I am certain. The rage alone that radiates from within him is enough to tell me this.
“I take it you didn’t order the attack.”
His face shoots up to mine quickly, a mixture of denial and anger at his own men evident in the sorrow that follows.
“The Savages MC have lived side by side with our neighbors for decades without incident. Contrary, in the past you’ve called on us for support and we’ve offered it unconditionally.”
This I know to be true. There have been times in the past when external entities had tried to move into our territory. Entities that were thousands strong. We would not have been prepared to overcome them had it not been for the unwavering support of the local motorcycle gangs who aided by lending soldiers and fighting alongside us.
“I’m facing a dilemma here,” I inform him. “You may not have ordered the attack. But someone did. These are your men, are they not? They need to be held accountable.”
“I’ll deal with it,” Lucas says, his gaze fixed on the pictures decorating the floor.
“Who’s this?” I point to the man who’d originally accosted Moneybags in the service station.
“Tomas Wojcak.”
“Who is he to you?”
“He’s the club’s sergeant-at-arms.”
“So he ranks pretty high up. Yet you couldn’t stop him from partaking in this attack?”
Lucas huffs out a defeated breath. He seems to age before my very eyes as I wait patiently for his response. One way or another, I will get what I came here for today.
“Tomas has been making waves within the club for a while. He hasn’t been here in weeks, he’s missed crucial meetings and he’s gone missing off jobs on several occasions without notice or reasonable explanation.”
“Go on,” I prompt, when his extended pause fails to yield any further information.
“I don’t know what he’s up to. I don’t. He’s tried to displace me a couple of times, and it’s my feeling he’s still conspiring to overthrow me. Doing someone’s bidding in an attack such as this could provide him with the leverage he needs to finally get rid of me.”
“Where can I find him?”
“No permanent address. But he likes to spend time with a lady over in Halcyon.”
I move slowly toward Lucas, until we are standing so close, I could reach out and touch him without stretching my arm. His crystal blue eyes, which would have been considered other worldly had they not harbored such fear, probe into me, waiting. I know that my gaze is an intimidating one. I know when to be calm and collected, and I know when it is time to throw the specter of my shadow over someone’s shoulder. He’s failed to keep a leash on his dogs. And now there would be repercussions. He knows this. But I will handle this my way, on my terms. I will show the perpetrators of the attack no mercy once I catch up with them.
“I want you to do nothing about this problem.” He is startled, a frown lifting across his face. “Tell no one I was here. I’ll rid you of your problem while I get rid of mine. But you make sure to tighten those reigns on the rest of your dogs.”