35 | Sarge
Sarge
You got a plan?
The whole club is pulled off task. Pawn shop closed. No runs. No movement, period.
Not today.
We’ve been in here, brainstorming for far too long if you ask me. Thinking in a room feels like a hamster on a wheel because we’re getting fucking nowhere. Means a lot to have everyone here, just wish we were making more progress.
“My woman is missing, and you’re fucking telling me we don’t have jack shit to go off of?” My voice rips through this small room where we hold church.
No one speaks. I pace, fuming. I almost feel sorry for Raydar; he’s been working his fingers raw, searching every database he can think of.
It’s not enough. We have no more leads today than we did yesterday. We combed through hours of surveillance footage from Rawhide, and still nothing to go off of. All we got was the confirmation that Diesel and Fang were the ones who distracted and drugged Hannah.
We were almost sure of it, but knowing is crucial for retaliation. As much as I want to rip the door off their clubhouse, I know I have to remain calm. Calculated.
Tossing back a shot of Jack, I try to steady my nerves.
“Have we spoken to the staff at Rawhide? Everyone. Not just the ones who were there the night shit went down.” Someone knows something.
“We have,” Ace answers, one of our newer patched members.
He recently finished his prospect period.
I’m glad to have him; so far, he’s been solid.
“Bear and I went personally. Caught some at work and got contact info for the rest. General consensus is the Scorpions are dicks, but nothing more than that.”
I drag a hand down my face. “Alright. What about the workers at Velvet? Bouncers, dancers, everyone. They all see shit.” Someone had to have seen something.
“Raydar and I stayed late last night,” Grimace answers, “but most of the staff and dancers had already gone home. We talked to those who were left. We’re going back today when they open. We’ll stay until every dancer comes in for their shift. No one is safe from questioning.”
I appreciate him and his dedication. “Okay. See if we can get our hands on their surveillance footage. I doubt that shithole has cameras in the parking lot, but it’s worth a shot.”
“You got it, Prez.” He nods.
A knock sounds at the door, and my heart hammers in my chest. Prospects know not to interrupt unless it’s urgent. Bear stands to open the door, talking to Ray for a moment, and then looking towards me.
“Burner phone. Says it’s for you.”
I stride over, each step covering two paces, and grab the phone from the prospect.
“Who is this?” I demand, no time for courtesy.
“What, no hello? And I thought we were friends.” The voice is slick, amused.
“Fine. Since you want to skip the introductions, I’ll get to the point.
I was hired to send a message. Stop moving meds over the border.
We have your woman here, a little encouragement to ensure our message is heard. So, can we consider it received?”
“I swear if you hurt her, it’ll be the last fucking thing you do. Where the fuck is she?” I yell into the phone, terror and anger boiling in my stomach.
I was supposed to protect her. Keep her safe. Give her something better than the shit life had handed her. Now she’s captured by these sick fucks. For what? Because she gave a broken biker a chance?
Against every instinct screaming at her, she gave me a chance. I refuse to let that chance be for nothing.
“You’re speaking awfully disrespectfully to the man who holds your precious stripper’s life in suspense,” he hisses out.
“Stop moving meds across the border, and we won’t kill her.
I can’t promise the level of “used condition” she’ll be in once our paid customers are done with her.
They pay good money; it would be rude to tell them what they can and can’t do to the whores. ”
Before I can threaten him, the line goes dead.
They have her.
She’s alive, but who knows what fucked up shit they’ve already put her through.
My head turns to Ray who’s still in the doorway. “You get a trace? Anything?”
“Fucker is calling off an app. No way he’s in Russia like it’s showing. He must have used a VPN. Smarter than he looks.”
My fist hits the table with enough force to shake the solid oak. “Fuck!” I yell.
I haven’t felt this utterly helpless since I was standing over my brother’s collapsed body. My only remaining hope is I can save her as I did him.
Wolf shuts the door, closing the prospects out. “Prez, I mean no disrespect, but if we stop running these meds, what happens to the people we help? Some of them rely on this shit; they could die.”
“You think I don’t know that?” I boom across the table. “We keep moving them, and my woman is as good as dead. Neither option is good, which is why we aren’t taking either.”
“You got a plan?” Grimace asks.
“A working plan of sorts. But first, we need to find the rat who sold us out. Who the fuck knows we run meds outside of this room and close family?” I’m not trying to take the blame off the club or me, but the leak made Hannah a target.
Everyone at the table looks to each other. “Man, none of us would have told anyone. The prospects don’t even know the business until they’re fully patched,” Wolf says.
“Yeah, man,” Bear follows up. “We all know how important this is, how these drugs save lives. No one would jeopardize that.”
While I know they’re right, it still doesn’t make sense. Someone said something, and now Hannah is paying the price.
The room stays silent. Their loyalty is solid, I know that, but facts are facts. Information doesn’t just grow legs and walk out the door. Someone talked.
“Check the hang-arounds,” I order Raydar. “Check the girls. Check every damn person who’s been in this clubhouse in the last six months. If someone bought a new bike or started spending extra cash, I want to know.”
“On it Prez, I’ll get with Giz after we’re done here.” Ray responds.
“What about the Scorpions?” Bear asks. “If they’re the ones holding her, we should be at their front door with every gun we own.”
“We go in guns blazing now, they kill her before our boots hit the porch,” I say, the words tasting like acid. “We need leverage. We need to know where they’re keeping the girls they sell. If we can find their stash house, we have something to trade. Or something to burn.”
I turn to the map on the wall, staring at the border lines. My heart is still hammering against my ribs, a constant reminder of the clock ticking.
“In the meantime, while we look, we need to keep up appearances. I want anyone who sees us to think it’s business as usual.
The shop is closed today, but we open tomorrow.
We keep two people on at all times.” I turn to Bear.
“You think Misty will mind helping out at the shop for a bit while we get this shit sorted?”
Misty has been with Bear for a long time. She knows the risks of being with a man in a kutte, and she stays because she loves him. Tough as nails, that woman.
“Shit, you know she will. Do anything she can for the club. I’ll call her once we’re out of here.”
“Thanks, man. Catch her up to speed but tell her to keep quiet. We don’t need this getting leaked. Other clubs hear we’ve been hit, they’ll smell blood in the water.” I give Bear a knowing look, and he nods in understanding.
I still feel like we’ve gotten nowhere, but at least we have a rough plan. Somewhere to start. Being close to the border has always been a positive for the club until now. Imagining Hannah so far across those lines that I can’t find her or get to her fast enough causes my insides to coil.
“Prez.” Chef’s voice halts my spiral. “What about the pancake breakfast? It’s tomorrow. We still doing that with all that’s going on?”
Shit. I would have forgotten about that. It feels like such an insignificant thing at a time like this, but it holds a space for normalcy.
“Yeah. We do it—mandatory participation from all of you. Bring your families if you can. We act normal in public, and we work on taking these bastards down behind closed doors. Anyone you interview needs to be discreet; the fewer witnesses, the better.” If we’re going to get Hannah back and take these assholes down, we need to stay one step ahead of them.