Chapter Two
Gunner stood outside a discreet warehouse he and Nico had secured years ago for times like this…
when the Ravens needed somewhere to lie low, regroup, and figure out their next move.
The property was tucked away in an industrial area with no signs connecting it to the club, making it one of the few places the Council didn’t know about to check.
Shit had gone left. Way left.
Things weren’t supposed to go down like this, Gunner thought.
He wasn’t supposed to be hiding out somewhere like a bitch.
He was supposed to be celebrating tomorrow.
Just days earlier, he’d cut the first check to start construction on the Ravens’ new clubhouse.
After the Knights burned their original clubhouse to the ground and the Council killed Nico, he had been left to pick up the pieces…
busting his ass trying to keep the Ravens’ name alive.
He recruited new members and even secured a drug supplier capable of supplying every charter.
Gunner wanted the Ravens to make a real comeback and prove they were still a force in the outlaw world.
He had pictured the new clubhouse as a fresh start, with his brothers filling the parking lot, finally reclaiming everything they had lost. Now, with the Council on their asses, he wasn’t so sure any of them would live long enough to move in.
In fact, every powerful organization in Satin Hills had a reason to come looking for them.
Shaking his head, Gunner took another long drag from his cigarette and cursed under his breath.
The Council was after him. The Knights were after him.
And somewhere in the middle of all that, he had to worry about what Preach would do once he found out what happened.
After pacing for a while, Gunner pulled the burner phone from his pocket and dialed. He knew he needed to tell Preach before the news reached him another way. If he heard it from somebody else, Gunner could end up with one more enemy coming for his head.
On the third ring, Preach answered without saying a word. Gunner’s heart plummeted. The silence told him Preach might already know something was wrong. Still, he informed him anyway.
“Shit went left. Crown survived the cabin. He showed up at the Council’s clubhouse with three of your men. Two of them had their heads cut off. Benjamin was still alive.”
“My men been missing for almost twenty-four hours, and you think I ain’t realize shit went bad?” Preach snapped, his agitation cutting through the phone.
Gunner stayed quiet, knowing there was nothing he could say that would calm the situation.
“You stood in my office and told me that cabin was the best place to strike. You assured me the location was clean. No neighbors. No cameras. No witnesses. That Crown would have his guard down, tending to his wife. You gave me your word.”
“I followed him out there early that morning myself while he was setting everything up. I assure you that’s what I saw.”
“No. That’s what you thought you saw. Obviously, you missed something.
Hidden cameras. Motion detectors. I don’t fuckin’ know.
But what I do know is I’m down three soldiers.
One of them is my right hand, and now Crown knows exactly who came for him.
All because I trusted the information you gave me. ”
“I’m going to fix this.”
“You better. Listen to me good, Gunner. You finish the job. I don’t give a fuck about your truce or whatever problems you got with the Council.
You got twenty-four hours. If you miss, and Crown responds, I won’t only go to war with the Knights.
M ap antere chak youn nan nou avèk yo. I will bury each one of you with them.
And that supply deal you came begging me for is dead until I say otherwise. ”
The line went dead before Gunner could respond.
He slowly lowered the phone from his ear and realized the cigarette had burned down to the filter.
He dropped it onto the dirt and crushed it beneath his boot before turning toward Gio, the Ravens’ new Vice President, who had been eavesdropping as he approached.
“What exactly did he say?”
“We have to get to Crown within twenty-four hours and end this.”
“How the fuck are we supposed to do that when our hand has already been exposed? The Knights are gonna be on high alert now. Not to mention, we still must answer to the Council. If they killed Nico for disobedience, what the fuck do you think they have planned for you? Or hell, even me?”
“Calm down. We just gotta lay low while I figure this out. We can’t undo what’s already done, but I’m going to find a way to make things right with the Council. You just have to trust me.”
Sighing, Gio took a sip from his beer as he stared across the empty warehouse lot.
The problem was… he no longer trusted Gunner’s plans.
It seemed to him as if the club had been going downhill ever since the death of Nico’s uncle, Morocco.
Nico and Gunner kept bringing them too close to destruction, and every answer either man gave sounded like another way to buy time.
“I’ve given thirty years of my life to this club.” Gio said after a while.
“I’ll go to war behind this patch. I’ll die behind it. But if we're going to war, we need brothers, G. Look around you. Most are gone. What if they’re dead, too?”
Gunner stared at him, his palms growing damp as his heart raced.
The truth was, he felt the same way. He was trying to hold it together, but deep down, he knew Gio was right.
His biggest concern now was reaching his girl and getting her somewhere safe in case he couldn’t complete his mission to kill Crown.
He’d done his research on Preach, and he knew better than to fuck with The Dessalinés Mob.
∞∞∞
Fukk A Interview by Future blasted from the van as Domo pulled up to the Knights’ clubhouse and hopped out.
The motorcycles behind him peeled off in different directions, parking.
One by one, each man killed their engines and climbed off, waiting for orders.
At the back of the van, Crown’s eyes lingered on the two severed heads lying there before he stepped out.
“Domo.”
“Yeah?”
“Get ready. Mel and them on the way. Once they get here, take them heads to Anna. Tell her to get real pretty and deliver ’em to Preach’s spot, then I want y’all to light that bitch up.”
“Bet.”
Crown shifted his attention to Sav and Spade as they walked up.
“Tomorrow, I want both of you to go wait in the area where Loki gets transferred. Make sure he’s still being moved at the same time, and that the same number of men are guarding him. I don’t give a fuck how long you gotta wait. Just get it done.”
Neither man asked questions, they nodded and prepared to handle it as they walked away.
Once everyone scattered, Crown pulled out his phone and called Smoky again.
Just like before, it went straight to voicemail.
His nostrils flared as he ended the call and checked his location.
Nothing. Crown frowned when he realized he could no longer track him.
Smoky had always shared his location with him, just like he shared his.
With the lives they lived, they both knew it was important.
Crown’s heartbeat picked up. What if Preach had put men on Smoky too and was successful? The thought hit him hard. He couldn’t lose his nigga. Not now. Not when he was about to have his first kid. That shit would crush him.
Saying fuck it, Crown called Tanya at that point.
It was always the last resort. He didn’t believe in contacting his brothers’ women, and he damn sure didn’t like reaching out to them and causing unnecessary panic.
But Crown felt like he had no choice. Unfortunately, Tanya answered and told him she hadn’t seen or spoken to Smoky since the night before.
In fact, she was just about to call and ask if he had heard from him.
“Fuck,” Crown spat as he ended the call.
Thinking the worst, he shoved the clubhouse door open and headed straight for his office with an aching chest. The unknown was like a dagger to his heart.
Danger was already back from his mission and inside, waiting for him.
He was leaning against the desk, smoking a blunt.
One look at his face told Crown he had information…
that something more was wrong. He slammed the door behind him and walked over to his chair.
“Who the fuck was it?”
“The registered owner is Emanuel Calloway. According to Pete, A.K.A. Maino. But the nigga who brought it in and paid for the body work was…Solomon Hayes.”
Crown damn near snapped his neck turning toward him. His eyes narrowed at the sound of his best friend’s name.
“Fuck you just say?” he said, snatching the paper to check for himself.