Chapter 25 #3
Reaper’s eyes landed on the current club president. “Zak didn’t rein him in?”
“He did what he could. But certain people gotta figure shit out on their own.”
Like Rage did with Lyric.
Reaper nodded, then settled in by bending a knee and planting the sole of his boot on one of the pavilion’s wooden posts while pressing his back to it. His eyes skimmed over the courtyard.
Rage wondered if the man ever relaxed and shut off his sniper brain. Though, having him on constant alert would be a benefit to the club.
“What’s the latest?” Rage asked him.
“We started taking pot shots at them.”
Rage waited for Reaper to explain. When he didn’t, he asked, “Doin’ what?”
“Leaving little hints behind.”
Jesus. A man of little words. “Gotta give me more than that.”
As Reaper talked, his eyes kept scanning the crowd. “Nothing obvious. Whatever would look like a mistake. Enough for the Russos to know they have an enemy, but not who yet.”
“What if they think it’s us?”
“The shit we’re doing, you wouldn’t think biker. You’d think bigger. Going to escalate, but slowly. Going to make them suspicious. Do things that will make the Russos want to dig deeper. But when they do, they’re gonna find what we planted. And the roots will lead them to the Chinese clan.”
“Gonna keep stirrin’ the shit ’til it’s easy enough to flush,” Rage summarized.
“Ain’t gonna be quick, but it’s gonna be done right.”
Rage sure as fuck hoped so. They needed to handle it in a way his DAMC family wasn’t fucked with. He studied the man’s profile. “Still wanna patch in? Or would you rather continue to ride with the women?”
Reaper finally turned to face Rage, but he didn’t fall for the bait. “Up to you all. I’m in if you want me in. If not, not going to be broken up about it.”
“Gonna talk to Zeke about bringing it to the membership.”
“What do you need from me?”
“To keep doin’ what you do best. Your work speaks for itself. The more loyal you are to Vi and the Shadows, the better. Same goes for showin’ your loyalty to the DAMC. The Shadows and the DAMC might appear separate on the surface, but they’re not. At the roots, it’s all intertwined.”
Reaper simply nodded and swallowed another mouthful of beer.
“Any ideas why those dead motherfuckers went after Lyric, Bri, and Avery?”
Reaper pulled in a breath. “My guess is they thought they were being followed and were about to be hijacked. Trafficking drugs tends to make you paranoid.”
“Yeah. Just wanted to make sure they didn’t identify them as DAMC.”
“We’ve intercepted some of their communication and there’s been no talk of your club. At least from what we’ve heard so far. Doesn’t mean they might not get suspicious down the road. We just need to keep on top of that.”
Rage had no idea they’d even tried tapping into the Russo’s communications, let alone that they had succeeded. “You got ways to listen?”
“Yeah, we got ways to listen. Pretty fucking sure they got some encrypted forms of communication, but if we can tap into that, we will. Indie’s working on it.”
That was good to know.
But before they could say another word, Zeke joined them and Reaper slipped away.
“Want him on our team, Prez. Right now he’s on Vi’s.”
“Brother, Vi’s team is our team,” Zeke reminded him.
“Depends on how you look at it. He becomes an Angel, his life loyalty will be to us versus his job. ‘Cause you know this is a life, while bein’ a Shadow pays the bills.”
“So, you're okay with patchin’ him in,” Zeke concluded.
“Yeah, from what I've seen, he’ll be an asset. No fuckin’ skin off my nose if he don’t wear a prospect cut first. We’ll give him credit for time served.”
Zeke’s head twisted toward him. “Time served in the military?”
“That, and what he’s done for our club so far. Thinkin’ if the OG Shadows wanted to patch in, your father wouldn’t have given a fuck.”
“Probably not,” Zeke slipped a joint from his pocket and tucked it between his lips.
“Take it to the membership?” Rage asked.
“Yeah. Let’s get on that.” Then Zeke whispered, “Fuck, man,” shook his head and tucked his joint back away.
Rage turned to check out what the prez was seeing.
His son.
Ledger’s little legs were a blur as he ran across the courtyard toward his grandfather, Zak, with his shadow, a German Shepherd, on his heels.
Yeah. If they had a kid, they’d need a guard dog like Thunder. It couldn’t hurt to get one ahead of time and make sure it was at least properly trained to protect Lyric. She could take it to the shop with her. It would give him some comfort when he wasn’t nearby.
He’d have to look into that.
“Havin’ a kid makes you look at shit differently,” Zeke murmured.
“As it should.”
“What the fuck happened to my life?”
“You became a father.”
Zeke smiled. “Yeah.” He began walking in the same direction his son had gone before throwing over his shoulder, “Sure you’ll be in that boat soon, too.”
“Asshole!” Rage called out.
Zeke’s chuckle floated back toward him.
It was now time to find his woman, drink a shitload of beer, and stuff his gut until it was about to burst.
Then take his woman home and fuck her into oblivion.