Chapter 5 - Beast #2
Tank pushes open the heavy wooden door to the chapel, revealing the club's inner sanctum.
Unlike the rest of the clubhouse, this room remains undamaged.
No bullets penetrated its reinforced walls.
The large, scarred wooden table dominates the center, surrounded by high-backed leather chairs bearing the patches of each officer.
King stands at the head of the table, both palms flat against the wood. Torch is to his right, cigarette dangling from his lips despite the no-smoking rule inside the chapel. Rage is still absent, likely rushing back with his kid.
"Beast," King acknowledges me with a nod as I take my seat. "Now that you're here, we can start."
"Shadow and Steel?" I ask.
"Already out," King confirms, his voice dangerously quiet. "Shadow's tracking the vehicles. Two SUVs, black Ford Explorers, tinted windows. Steel's checking with our street contacts, seeing if anyone noticed them before the hit."
"Tactical approach," Tank says, taking his VP chair. "Four shooters minimum. Semi-automatic weapons, looked like AR-15s from the casings. They knew when to hit. Friday night when the common area would be full but most of us were out."
"They're retaliating for us hitting their supply warehouse," Torch says, exhaling smoke. "We cost them nearly a million in product, and now they're showing us they can hit back."
I recall Tank leading that operation right before his sister and Amelia arrived. We destroyed one of the Eagles' main distribution centers, burning it to the ground after confiscating enough evidence to keep the cops busy for weeks.
"This isn't just about the warehouse," King says, his knuckles white against the table. "This is Vulture escalating. First he comes after me and Luna at her house, now he's bold enough to hit our headquarters. He's not going to stop until either we're wiped out or he is."
"How's security looking?" I ask, my mind running through vulnerabilities. "Any cameras catch their approach?"
"They shot out the street camera on the corner first," King says, jaw tightening. "Professional job. In and out in under forty seconds. But they made one mistake."
He slides a phone across the table. I pick it up to see a grainy image from what must be the gas station's security camera two blocks away. It shows one of the SUVs turning onto our street, the rear license plate partially visible.
"First three digits are KLP," King says.
"You think Amelia's ex might be feeding them information?" I suggest. "Derek's a cop with connections. He could have reached out to the Eagles after Tank ran him out of town."
Tank's expression darkens at the mention of the man who abused Amelia. "Possible, though unlikely. That piece of shit was too busy running back to Riverbrook with his tail between his legs. But I'll ask Amelia if he ever mentioned contacts with the Eagles."
King straightens suddenly, his control finally snapping. With a roar that seems too large for even his massive frame, he slams his fist into the table with such force that the solid oak cracks down the middle, both halves sagging toward the floor.
"NO ONE ATTACKS THE SAVAGE RIDERS!" he bellows, veins standing out on his neck.
"No one comes to our home, endangers our women and children, and lives to tell the fucking story!
I want these men found. I want them on their knees.
I want Vulture to understand that coming after us means TOTAL FUCKING WAR! "
The room falls silent after his outburst. King rarely loses control, which makes his rage all the more significant.
I remember when Vulture's men nearly killed King during the ambush at her grandmother's house.
Only Luna's quick thinking and medical skills saved him.
Now, with another direct attack, King's patience has finally snapped.
After a moment, he inhales deeply, straightening his cut.
"Gentlemen," he continues, voice steady again but no less lethal, "as of this moment, we are in full retaliation mode.
We've hit one supply line. Now we take out the rest. I want eyes on every Iron Eagle property.
I want their suppliers cut off, their protection rackets disrupted, their families watched. "
"Their families?" Torch questions, raising an eyebrow. "That's not usually how we operate."
"We don't touch them," King clarifies. "But we watch them. They become our leverage if needed"
Tank nods in agreement. "We need to show force, but controlled force. We're not them."
"Precisely," King says. "We're not mindless thugs. We're soldiers. And soldiers follow strategy." He turns to me. "Beast, I need you to organize security here. Triple the watch rotations, arm everyone, including prospects. No one enters or leaves without clearance."
"Done," I affirm, already mentally drafting the schedule.
"Also," King adds, eyes narrowing slightly, "why were you and Jenny out together?"
Fuck. I should have known that would come up.
Before I can formulate a response, Tank interrupts. "That's a conversation for after we handle this threat." His eyes meet mine, communicating clearly: You're not off the hook.
King studies us both for a moment, then nods. "Fair enough. Focus on the Eagles now, domestic matters later."
The chapel door opens abruptly, and Steel strides in, his lean frame tense with urgency.
"Got something," he announces without preamble. "That SUV with the partial plate KLP? Registered to Vincent Kemp's brother-in-law."
"Kemp?" Tank straightens in his chair. "Vulture's right-hand man?"
"The same," Steel confirms, a grim smile playing at his lips. "And according to my source at the gas station, they filled up both vehicles twenty minutes before the attack. Paid cash, but the security camera got a clear shot of the driver—definitely Kemp."
King smirks. "Excellent. We have confirmation."
"We already know they're operating out of that old machine shop on the east side of town," Tank adds. "The one we've been watching for the past week."
"Time to pay them a visit," I suggest, already anticipating the blood that will flow.
"Indeed," King says with grim satisfaction. "Steel, get with Shadow, confirm if Kemp has returned there. Tank, organize two strike teams. We move tonight."
"What about the women and children?" Torch asks. "We can't leave them unprotected here."
"I'll stay," I volunteer immediately, thinking of Jenny upstairs. "Set up a defense perimeter, keep them safe."
King considers this, then nods. "Good. Beast stays to secure the clubhouse. Torch, you're with Tank's team. I'll lead the second team once Shadow confirms the location."
"And if we find Kemp and his shooters?" Steel asks.
King's eyes turn to ice. "We remind them why they should fear the Savage Riders. No mercy for those who threaten our home."
The meeting continues with tactical details, assignments of weapons and vehicles, but my mind keeps drifting to Jenny. Is she upstairs comforting Amelia and Anna? Is she scared? Regretting her decision to help Amelia come to Blackwater Falls?
More importantly, what will happen when this is all over and Tank demands to know why I was out with his sister? We can try to maintain the fake relationship lie, but Tank knows me too well. He'll see through it eventually.
And then there's my mother, expecting us both for dinner on Sunday, already half in love with the idea of Jenny as a daughter-in-law.
I've faced down gangbangers, military enemies, and rival MCs without flinching. I've broken bones, spilled blood, and walked away without a shred of regret.
But the thought of untangling the web of lies I've spun around Jenny, and the unwelcome realization that I wish those lies were truth, that terrifies me more than any Iron Eagle with an AR-15.
My cock might be confused about what it wants from Jenny Bradley, but my heart is becoming dangerously clear.