Chapter 7 Jackal
JACKAL
Hellfire’s elbows are on his desk and he has the bridge of his nose pinched between his fingers as we explain why we were playing babysitters for most of the afternoon yesterday.
“Okay, let me get this straight. Some bitch dropped a fucking four year old off on the corner and told him to find us for help. The three of you decided it made sense to bring him back here, and then his mommy came to pick him up, and instead of letting her fucking do it, you tagged along as bodyguards for the rest of the afternoon because you were feeling chivalrous or some shit?”
I knew he was going to be like this. “For fuck’s sake, it’s not like we trailed after her carrying her damn purse. The bitch was her sister. Would you’ve kicked her out after getting the news that she’d just fucking died?”
Hellfire looks up, eyeing me darkly. “Three days ago I watched you blow someone’s kneecap off, and then Crank sends a pic of you helping a kid sit on your bike to the group chat asking if you’re available to babysit when Paige finally pops.”
Lash snorts.
“What can I say? I’m considerate and versatile.” Hard to keep the grin off my face, which doesn’t make him any happier.
“You’re a bunch of pains in my ass, that’s what you are,” he mumbles under his breath.
In the nearly four years since General, our old President, was killed, Hellfire has worked his ass off to get the club into the position it is now in spite of not even being thirty when he took over.
He was General’s right hand, and we all thought there’d be plenty of time for Hellfire to grow into the role.
Instead he had to grab the reins in the middle of a violent coup, and while we came out on top, in a lot of ways the club is still finding its way. Hellfire included.
“Okay look, I’m not denying that it’s pretty fucking suspicious the sister sent the kid our way,” I admit. “If it wasn’t for that, we probably would’ve dropped him off somewhere safe, called it a day and that would be the end of it. But she did, and I stand by the decision.”
“What was the sister’s name?” he asks.
“Georgia.”
Hellfire leans back in his chair, arms behind his head.
His forearm is lined with hash marks for the traitors he executed when we retook the club.
Each one is a man we once knew, probably shared a beer with.
There’s only one mark missing from that day.
The one General’s old lady put in the head of the bastard who ordered her man killed.
He shakes his head. “Doesn’t ring any bells, but a lot of women have been in and out of here over the years.
I’m not exactly keeping track. Shit, I’d probably have done the same thing in your place.
I’ve just been enjoying the quiet. We’re probably due some excitement.
Alright, the kid’s mom trusts you, so work with that, see if you can find anything that leads back to us. ”
Lash nods. “No hardship there.”
“Keep it in your pants until we know if we’re being set up for fucking child trafficking or some shit,” Hellfire growls.
“Sir, yes sir.” Lash salutes. “Do I have to keep it in my mouth, though?” He wiggles his tongue.
“Save it for the sluts.” I punch his shoulder hard enough that he has to scramble to not fall off his chair.
“Don’t worry, I’ll keep him on a tight leash.
I doubt she’ll be an issue, though. If there’s something deeper going on, I don’t think Dakota’s in on it.
We saw her with her boy, there’s no fucking way she’d risk her kid like that. ”
Hellfire doesn’t look convinced. “I trust your judgement, but never underestimate women. They can be every bit as ruthless as men, and they usually have to be sneakier about it.”
The three of us exchange glances. If he met Dakota I doubt he’d be worried about her being a criminal mastermind.
He rolls his eyes. “Fine, I’m sure she’s a perfect sweet princess, but I’m going to tug on our contact in the pig pen to see if we can get a look at the police report, and Poe’ll go through the footage from the cameras we have near the corner.
If any red flags show up, I’m reeling you in and I don’t want to hear shit about how innocent little Virginia is. Understood?”
“Dakota,” Stiff corrects.
“Understood?” Hellfire repeats, staring at him until he nods. “Good, now get the fuck out of my office.”
“Burnout?” I ask as soon as we’re clear.
“Fuck yeah. Lash still owes us a round.”
“Yes master, tug my leash harder, master,” Lash mocks, walking backwards out of the church while giving me a double middle finger salute.
The Burnout is our regular hangout, an old school biker bar tucked into a rundown strip mall.
The place wouldn’t’ve lasted a day if it wasn’t for the club being a couple blocks away from the largest MC in the city.
It’s basically our home away from home. We aren’t the only clientele, but we sure fucking set the standard for who ends up there.
Nobody who isn’t on good terms with the Outlaw Sons bothers to show up, unless they’re spoiling for a fight.
And like all good things, it's cheap, deep and open all night.
The bouncer takes one look at us and nods in greeting as we walk in.
Hector is behind the bar as usual. It’s a Saturday night, so the place is packed.
The booths and tables are mostly taken, full of our guys and a smaller mix of men from other clubs, along with an assortment of bounty hunters and other troublemakers.
Men outnumber women by a good margin, but the music’s good and there’s enough tits and ass to keep things interesting.
Stiff leans an elbow on the bar. “You think Hellfire could be right? That Dakota’s mixed up in something?”
“Oh, she’s definitely mixed up in something, but I meant what I said. I don’t think she’s got a clue what it is,” I say with a snort.
“Agreed.” Lash holds up a hand with three fingers to get Hector’s attention.
The surly, tatted up version of Mr. Clean nods.
“She’s definitely got the MILF thing going for her, but I wonder if she’s really as straight-laced as she looked.
She was pretty chill about being seen with us.
Even got pissed when she noticed how some of the people at the hospital were looking our way. ”
Stiff pulls out his phone. “I’m going to see if she’s busy.”
“To what? Invite her here? She’s got the kid,” I point out. “We can drive by her place tomorrow. I looked up her address.”
“Booooring.” Lash sings. “If she can’t, she can’t, but might as well ask, right? Hellfire’s orders.”