Chapter 16 – Cody
Chapter Sixteen
Cody
I park the truck between Tanner’s Ducati and Wyatt’s new silver Harley, a birthday gift from his wife Anna to celebrate her opening a new nursing clinic out in Missouri.
The bodies are on ice, so we have enough time to pull out teeth and identify faces.
Judging by the bikes outside, we’re still waiting on Gideon and Tamiya for help with that.
Wyatt comes outside once they hear the truck pull up. He doesn’t look that pissed off, which is good. I don’t like having to waste two men and cause a scene like that. Small town cops out there are pretty easy to piss off.
I hop out of the truck and Wyatt comes over to give me a big hug.
“Long time, no see,” he says. “I didn’t know you were on vacation from the ranch.”
It’s not a vacation – it’s my honeymoon. I just wanted to keep my personal life out of club business, which has been rendered totally useless now that these Iron Frontier Mother-Fuckers tracked me and Shay down.
“Not much of a vacation.”
Wyatt doesn’t waste much time on pleasantries. Neither of us are the type. When we enter the club house, I exchange my regular greetings and survey the attendees of this impromptu meeting. I don’t have enough liquor or coke in my system to feel really fine about what’s going on.
We settle down and talk about the men who attacked me and Shay. I casually mention my wife and even if everybody in the room is hearing this information for the first time, they do a good job of displaying absolutely no reactivity to the situation.
I do my best to tell the club the story of how it all went down. I know I speak slower than most people and I have to stop for some whiskey a few times to get the energy to keep going through the story. They try to be as patient as possible.
I get around halfway through my version of events when we hear Gideon’s bike outside followed by Tamiya chastising him loudly for a scrap they had on the drive over.
The two of them fight constantly and I’m guessing they fuck like rabbits to make up for the constant arguing.
Gideon puts his arm around her once they walk into the club house and greet us all.
Tamiya wrestles herself away from him and approaches the bar.
“I need a drink right now or I swear, I’m going to murder my husband.”
“What’s so mad about wanting another baby?”
Tamiya glares at him after Oske gets her a double shot of clear liquor that I can smell clean across the room. Gideon puts his arm around her and asks for a shot of his own.
“Should I start over?”
Everyone else in the room gives an emphatic, “No!”
“We know the story,” Tamiya says. “You all get into pretty much the same problems every single time.”
“This wasn’t my fault,” I snap. “I have nothing to do with the gun business because I planned to take this time away from business to establish myself. I’m actually quite irritated.”
Wyatt nods with a measure of sympathy and prods the story along. “What happened to the one that got away?”
“I sent someone after him.”
“Someone we can trust, I hope,” Wyatt says, considering me carefully as a green six sided pair of dice roll over the tops of his fingers in that annoying idle habit he maintains.
“Yes. Disposal might be more difficult for her, but we can get what we need taken care of.”
“I presume you have the evidence bagged up away from the bodies,” Wyatt asks.
“Tagged and organized. Just like butchering a deer.”
“Gross,” Tamiya mutters.
I’m not trying to sound cold, but it’s easier to do this work if you mentally detach.
Gideon, Wyatt, Hunter and I head out to grab the evidence.
We pull out the pieces of the jackets, the weapons, the wallets, weapons and contents of said wallets, spreading them across the large wooden meeting table – a half-charred relic of the old clubhouse.
We spend a couple hours sorting through everything while Tamiya takes notes and we try to get our questions answered. Conclusion – low-level scouts.
“Scouting what?” I mutter. We have some evidence the short, squat one with the blurred tattoos was former law enforcement.
“Iron Frontier Motorcycle Club,” Gideon explains. “They’ve been causing issues with our base on the East Coast. We blew the brains out of a few of theirs and thought that would be the end of it.”
“It’s not just that,” Wyatt growls, rubbing his forehead with immediate irritation. He’s slightly less explosive than a stick of dynamite now that he’s a father, but memories of his previous explosions put me on edge whenever he starts… gesturing. “It’s the Tylee problem.”
Right. The Tylee problem. She’s stashed away in Montana with Christian Shaw and already causing problems. Tylee asked for death, Wyatt gave her solitary confinement.
“I thought you took care of that situation?”
Wyatt gives me a nervous look and reveals something that I didn’t expect.
“We have Scum.”
The words hit me. We’re not done with this war. We might not ever be done with war. I suspected as much. I know Tanner and Deacon suffer the delusions that we’ll be left alone to make our money but… You don’t make Hollingsworth money without getting your hands dirty.
The secrets I didn’t expect. I suppose I don’t get too involved with this part of club business on purpose. It doesn’t hurt to be the purse. Or better yet, the distant rancher who shows up only for the quarterly meetings or fun rides.
“Where?”
That could determine how safe I am with Shay. I need to get her away from this. Maybe Canada? Back to the ranch where there will at least be backup?
“Far away,” he says. “Locked up, like my sister.”
“You think they’re trying to find him?”
Wyatt’s eyes flicker to mine. “I know they are.”
“Why not send them his foot or something?”
“I considered it,” Wyatt says.
We’re the only ones calm and rational enough to have a conversation like this.
Ryder is calm enough, but he has no interest in killing anymore.
Gideon enjoys killing too much to be calm and rational about it.
He’s always going to light up at the thought of choking somebody out.
His wife knows it, glancing over at her husband, who smiles at the thought of removing Scum’s foot.
Tamiya makes a short tutting noise of disapproval.
It’s possible the one who got away was some kind of cell leader or at least the leader of the trio.
“Should I keep the last one alive?”
“No,” he says. “They’re nowhere near Scum.”
I don’t question where we keep him prisoner again. Wyatt’s right that the less I know the better. My mind wanders back home. Not just my sister Kylie, but Shay and Caleb. I thought we would have more time away from the ranch and away from my problems, but that’s growing more and more unlikely.
Wyatt questions whether Kylie can handle herself with him, but I know she’s done worse. The girl has been hunting since she was a kid and is far from a girl anymore. Kylie has some big brothers, so I doubt she was ever destined to be dainty.
“After Kylie pops him, then what? If they’re sending scouts and they found me all the way out there…”
“There’s a reason they looked your way.”
“Is it Tanner?”
“Not at liberty to say.”
“I have a wife now, Wyatt. I can’t put her in danger.”
“We all have wives,” he responds. “But I understand. We won’t leave here without a plan…”
“A war plan?” Gideon asks, his hand unconsciously adjusting the dog tags still hanging around his neck. His hand falls and Tamiya takes it into hers, sliding her fingers against her husband’s palm.
“I’ve done everything I can to avoid war,” Wyatt responds. “Let’s drink and discuss. We’re in too strong a position to make any sudden moves.”