Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Smell a Rat?
H e checked his mirror three times. He knew he wasn’t followed. If by some chance he had been followed, he had a story all worked out. Did anyone really think an outlaw turning on his club wouldn’t have every detail mostly worked out?
This was how it would go… (coming straight from his mind):
One of the guys followed him up to the cabin. He’d slip out of the way and run back, waving his hands. He’d tell whoever it was that a fucking cop lived in the cabin. A detective. And the dude was crooked. Just how crooked? The man of authority was the biggest yellow bunny distributor in the state!
He knew it would work. The story would have to work.
Sure, he’d have to pick up some yellow bunny, place it around the cabin, kill the detective before the club could question him… but it would keep his ass safe. Maybe. Maybe not.
He shut off the car and climbed out. The reality was it did pain him to think that his leather cut was neatly folded on his bed in his house. His motorcycle parked behind his own house just in case someone was looking for him, they’d think he wasn’t home.
It was a giant mess. But the lines were already drawn, crossed, and deals were on the table.
The back door to the cabin opened and out walked the detective. In dress pants, suspenders, gun holsters over his shoulders and all that. A gun on each side of him.
The detective nodded. “You know what to do… what are we calling you again? Can’t call you Mark, right? Too serious? Too civilian-like? Rat pisses you off. How about I call you Tar? Rat spelled backwards! That’s a biker name. You could pretend to be badass still.”
“Fuck you,” Mark-Rat-Tar growled at the detective.
The detective laughed and then searched his cooperating rat and led the way inside. The detective already had two glasses of top-shelf scotch poured.
“Cheers, Mark,” the detective said.
Mark glared at the detective. There was an ending to this. An escape. But first…
“Today feels like a good day to take town a motorcycle club,” the detective said. “I know there are others in town helping out. Cops, lawyers, doctors. It’s a whole thing. I’d rather just cut the head off the snake and end it, you know? Those other people, they may not have a choice. But they will. We’re going to liberate them, Mark. Of course, that’s only if you have information. The way I see it… I’ve been waiting too long. Did I tell you about my first wife?”
“No.”
The detective chuckled. “She thought she could withhold sex from me. I’m talking nothing. I’m talking the cliché giving me a blowjob on my birthday thing. I’m talking she’d wear something sexy on Christmas Eve. You know? I don’t play that game. I warned her too. Our neighbor? She was perfection. Tan skin. Fake tits. Loved to sit out in her hot tub and relax. One time she caught me looking and the next night she was topless. Caught me looking and the next night she’s sitting on the edge of the hot tub, fingering herself. The next night, I was waiting for her. The big, mean detective. As luck would have it, she got a speeding ticket that day. For thirty over. Not good. She sucked my cock better than any woman ever did. I got rid of the speeding ticket. We fucked like rabbits in that hot tub, out of it, in her house, everywhere. She screamed with pleasure so loud, my soon-to-be ex-wife heard it.”
The detective never once had a problem showing off how much of an asshole he truly was.
The detective raised his glass. “Mark, what I’m trying to say is that this is it. This is your drink. Your last visit. I don’t wait forever. There are dozens of street scum that would love to turn on you guys. I can penetrate anyone in the club too.”
After finishing his drink, the detective took out a set of cuffs and a gun.
“Ready to talk, Mark?”
That sent Mark-Rat-Tar’s heart into a frenzy. He’d been feeding bits and pieces for some time now. Sure, it was going to end up like this at some point. But right now? Today? Like this?
“There was a car accident in town. The car was moved into another town because of yellow bunny. That stuff is in town but the MC is hiding like it’s not.”
“Big fucking deal,” the detective said.
“The club is going after the person who owns the car.”
“Interesting.”
“The way I see it, Detective, you’ll have the club at a house, each guy with illegal weapons and more, poised to kill someone. All over drugs. I think that ties it up nicely. A bunch of bikers in a drug house. Illegal weapons. Fuck, let someone kill the guy and then you’ve got a nice murder charge.”
The detective chuckled. “See, Mark? See what happens when you apply yourself? You could have been a detective. Could have been running undercover. Getting paid to do this stuff instead of turning your back on the men you call ‘brothers’…”
“Are we done here?”
“Only need one more thing,” the detective said.
“What?”
The detective refilled his own glass with more scotch. “I need the address and the date and time this is going down.”