Chapter 14
KINGSTON “FROST”
The Grave Disciples reached out to our Prez, Skull, wanting to meet so they can come up with some sort of an agreement between the two MCs.
I’ve been in prison for two years, so I’m not up to speed on what’s been going on, but this doesn’t feel right.
Our illegal businesses are strictly drugs, with most of us carrying legit day jobs.
The Grave Disciples are into seedier shit, which we want no part of.
The selling of people and body parts is not what we are.
We’ve finish church and we’re packing guns and knives. Skull called all the old lady’s in to stay at the Rebel Room. Several prospects will be here to watch them, along with Pirate, who offered to stay behind. The one-eyed bastard is better off here than at the meet. He’s older and slower.
While I’m holstering my gun to my side, I say to Skull, “I ain’t feeling good about this.”
“You said at the meeting now drop it.”
“I’m the sergeant at arms. This is my call on safety. Two years gone, and I’m still playing fucking catch-up.”
Skull let’s out a heavy sigh. “And I’m the fucking Prez, and I say we go. It’s duly noted you’re not in agreement.”
The rest of the crew pours out of the bar, following Skull’s orders, which might get us killed. I gesture to the bartender to pour me another shot of Jack. This is going to be a clusterfuck of a meeting. My gut tells me they ain’t there and we’re walking into an ambush.
Fuck Skull!
“I’m choosing my own men to stake the place out first before the rest join.”
My Uncle Jorden cuts in. “You’re overstepping Frost. The call’s been made.”
Skull asks, “Frost, why are you being a dick?”
“Because it’s my job to be a dick. Why are you all so quick to meet them?”
He gestures to my uncle to leave and asks for two shots, which we down.
“While you were in, things were calm. We didn’t have any issue.
They stayed in their territory and we did the same.
If they’re willing to talk, possibly make peace for the long run, I’m up for it.
Our brothers are tired of fighting. We’re aging and some of us want to start a family. ”
Skull glances over at Duchess, and his attention returns to me when I respond, “Then it won’t hurt for me to scope it out first.”
Skull shrugs, kisses Duchess, and walks out to his bike. Outside, they’re revving their engines, shouting for me to hurry up.
My hand scrubs over my face, and I take a step forward, but Duchess stops me. “Take care of him, Frost.”
“What the fuck do you think I’m trying to do?”
“I know…it’s just that I’m pregnant. I need him alive.”
This has me swallowing hard. I can’t have Skull’s kid grow up without a dad, so I nod and take off with my brothers.
Naturally, the Grave Disciples Prez, Snake, is just that—a snake.
He ain’t loyal to anyone, not even his club.
I know for a fact, he’s stolen money from his brothers for his blow habit.
We close in on the specified warehouse, housed among other buildings, and I speed to the front, signaling for everyone to stop.
I point at Smokey, Gears, and Grinder. As they move up alongside me, I explain we’ll circle the warehouse, and then I’ll go inside.
I’d rather not risk their lives. With what little time I have, this is the best I can do.
The bikes will give us away, but at least they’ll be driving in case there’s gun fire.
I signal to them, and they do as I say, circling the warehouse as I ride outside the perimeter in search of strays aiming for us.
The guys raise their arms to indicate everything is clear outside the warehouse.
Since I haven’t come across any sniper, I zoom down, cut the engine, and slip inside the building.
From where I’m standing a foot from the door, I can’t see or hear anyone, which means we’ve been set up.
No warehouse is this quiet when people are present.
So if they ain’t here where are they at?
Or are they hiding to massacre us?
One more step forward to view the place better, and my leg trips a wire.
I dive for the door, screaming to the guys to get the hell out of here.
There’s no delay. I’m blown out the door with my left shoulder hitting the pavement.
A few brothers fly off their bikes as the fire reaches their rides.
My other brothers return for them and peel out of there.
Smokey grabs me and hauls me onto his bike, but there’s another explosion and we fly off, hitting the pavement again.
We skid several feet. Once we stop, we check to make sure we’re both okay, and limp to the bike to meet the others.
My bike is shot to hell. I’m going to kill the Grave Disciples MC.
Skull is asking if we’re okay, and I shout, “I told you something was up. No fucking way Enzo wants peace.”
His hands fly up in stop mode. “You were right. I should have listened.”
“No time. We better split before the cops arrive.”
I’m on Smokey’s bike, and we hightail it out of there.
Just as we all make the turn down to our bar, cop cars fly past toward the smoke-filled warehouse.
That should keep them busy for a while. As soon as we pull up to the Rebel Room, we realize the warehouse wasn’t the only thing the Grave Disciples planned.
A prospect is outside the bar, bleeding from his stomach with a gash across his forehead, eyes staring up at the sky.
Gears kneels to close his eyes, and makes the sign of the cross. We’ll give him a solid burial.
Inside, the tables and chairs are tossed around and two more prospects are in bad shape, but alive. Pirate is knocked out cold yet appears to be fine other than the lump on his head. Someone calls an ambulance while the rest of us search for the women, knowing damn well they’re not here.
Fuck!
Skull is frantic, running around the place, shouting Lynette’s name, and I catch his arm. “Hey! There’s no way I’m letting anything happen to her or the other old ladies, especially since she’s pregnant.”
He immediately stops, eyes expanding, mouth hanging open until he asks, “Pregnant?”
“Shit, you didn’t know?” He shakes his head. “She told me before we took off, wanting me to watch out for you.”
The ambulances arrive for the three prospects and Pirate. Gears and Grinder follow behind the ambulance and the rest of us pick up tables and chairs. From my left shoulder down to my hip throbs like a bitch, and I’m leaving a small trail of blood wherever I walk.
Skull sees me wincing. “Go to the hospital, Frost.”
I wave off his comment, picking up a chair when my phone pings, so I check my notifications. One is from the GPS tracker I tattooed on Rebel. It’s flashing from Railway and New Castle Streets. This is on the other side of Moose Grove. I zoom in on satellite view to find a fenced-in warehouse.
I call out, “Jorden, Smokey, and Chains. We gotta head over to Railway and New Castle.”
Skull runs over to me. “Why? What’s there?”
“Stevie. I tattooed a GPS tracker on her.”
“Why?”
“Because I wanted to. But the question is why is she there?”
He kicks a chair and flips a table. “No offense, Frost, but I don’t care about your skirt. Lynette and the old ladies are missing.”
I step up into his space, and the other guys hold our arms to avoid a fight. “I fucking know, Skull, but there’s no reason for Stevie to be at a warehouse unless they kidnapped her, too.”
After a brief stare down, he gives a curt nod, and my brothers are on their bikes, and me in my truck.
When we come to the fence, Chains tests it for electricity, and cuts into it.
The warehouse is fifty feet away, so we leave our rides.
Adrenalin numbs my pain, walking toward the warehouse while scanning the outside.
I don’t see or hear anyone outside, but inside is a different story.
Women are crying.
A woman is screaming in pain.
There’s the buzzing of electricity.
A big door is open, so our guns are drawn, and when we round the corner, I pause for a second and then I’m overcome with fury. Some asshole is fucking Rebel while another guy electrocutes her.
Red. Red fucking rage.
Blood pounds in my ears as I fire my gun, and continue firing it.
I’m on autopilot, popping out one magazine for another, blowing the guy’s face off who is electrocuting her.
Then the other one. A shot to the head. Once he falls, I stand over him, firing several into his dick and the rest of my bullets into his face.
When there’s nothing left of him, I gaze up to see my brothers killing the other members in the warehouse and rescuing the women.
I race to Stevie, undo the rope from the hook, and lower her to a stool where I remove my cut and cover her.
As I walk out of there with her in my arms, her low, cracked voice asks, “King?”
“Yeah, Rebel, I got ya.”
I tell Smokey to call Jasper to clean this shit up, who does some work for us and the mob. After placing her on the passenger seat of my truck, I call Cristo, Don of the mafia.
He picks up. “Frost. Heard you were out.”
“I need a favor.”
Cristo speaks Italian to someone and then a door closes. “What kind of favor?”
“This is an emergency. I need your doctors. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”
He rattles off his address. “I’ll let the guard at the gate know you’re coming.”
I’m blowing lights to get to his place. They let me in, but as I’m removing Stevie out of the truck, some huge suit with greased back hair says, “I’ll take her.”
“The fuck you will. Where’s Cristo?”
Cristo walks out of the house. “It’s fine, Franco.” He gestures to me. “This way.”
We walk to the side of his mansion to a small house. I place Stevie on a bed in a medical room, and the doctor tells me to leave. In the kitchen, Cristo pours two glasses of gold, which most likely cost a fortune. The guy is swimming in money.
He hands me a glass, walks into the living room, and asks, “What happened? Do you need to see the doctor?”
I decline and catch him up on everything, and then we wait for the doctor.
Neither of us is much of a talker. It’s rare that the Don opens his house to anyone.
This is his sacred land, and I’m surprised he accepted my request without question.
In the meantime, Cristo excuses himself, putting a guard at the door.
Skull texts me to say they’re all back at the bar.
The two prospects are in surgery, but they’ll make it. He thanks me, and I leave it at that.
An hour later, Cristo returns, and the doctor comes out of the room. No coincidence there. I’m on my feet to hear what he has to say.
The doctor rubs his eyes and says, “She has a slight hairline fracture to her left wrist, a bruised bone on her right foot, burn marks on her back, cuts over her hands, arms, and legs, and tearing in her vagina and anus.” I fall back after hearing all her injuries.
“I’ve given her a splint to wear on her wrist and a brace on her foot.
With the salve and antibiotics, the burns should heal on their own.
Some of the cuts on her body were deep, so I’ve stitched them up.
The vaginal and anus tearing will heal on their own with medication, which I’ll supply you with.
I’ll also give you ice packs and instructions for everything. ”
I clear my throat. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”
“Call me if there are any complications.”
Cristo and I shake his hand, and he heads to the kitchen, writing in a book. I thank Cristo for letting me bring Stevie, and he nods.
Once everything is set, I drive Stevie to my house where I’ll be able to watch over her.
She’s been sleeping from the medication.
Thank God the tattooed GPS worked, or she might be dead instead.
I might be a motherfucking asshole, but I’ve never tortured a woman.
This has me shaking from anger. I have no fucking clue what it is about Stevie that I’m drawn to, but I am.
In the guestroom, I put her to bed, and sit in the chair across from it. Her face is swollen and black and blue. Rebel looks fragile. I rest my head against the wall, fold my hands on my stomach, and fall asleep.
I’m woken by Stevie’s screams.