Chapter 27
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SEVEN
LoneStar
While we were in church, Booker told us he had tracked down the source of the live feed, disabled it, and erased the footage.
After tracing the IP address, he got into the mainframe and planted a virus.
Once the file is opened on the other end, that device will be completely wiped and rendered useless.
For a moment, it felt like things were finally going our way—until he revealed it was all connected to Patrick’s mother’s mansion.
We’re being set up by that manipulative bitch and her son.
We don’t know how she’s tied to the professor yet, but Booker is working morning and night to figure that out.
But for the time being, we’re safe, or as safe as we can be while facing a gang of pussies and their parents.
If they weren’t as well connected as they are, we’d take them out and put it all behind us.
It’d be too suspicious if they met their demise so quickly after the sheriff died, and that’s what’s holding us back from taking things into our own hands.
Even with that in mind, we decided to pay a visit to the senator, remind her that we’re watching her.
We want her nervous, we want her scared so she lets her guard down and makes a mistake, so as a club, we showed up en masse.
For hours we sat idle in front of her house, just hanging out there with our eyes glued to her property.
Intimidation goes a long way when your plan is to make somebody antsy, and I know we accomplished that feat because she and her son, Patrick, kept looking out the slats of the blinds.
You could literally see their hands shaking even though we were more than an acre away from her front yard.
Riptide called it after police traffic picked up, a sign that she called them to patrol her neighborhood.
With smiles on our faces, we rode back to the cemetery so we could have a chat with Mr. Stratton.
Removing the cement slab from our fake grave, we each slowly descended into the buried mausoleum.
A few footsteps falter when we walk past Sphinx, our prospect that went undercover and ended up losing an eye in the process.
Only a handful of us were aware that he was our mole, Riptide wanted it that way and we supported him but now the jig is up and Riptide’s going to have to face an inquiry from our brothers, but that’s not a today problem, it’s something we can deal with tomorrow.
Side-eyes are shared between those who were in the dark, but they don’t stop for long before snapping out of it and following our pres further into the tunnels until we hit the single room that branches off from it.
Before we step inside, Rip turns around on his heels and states, “I know you all have questions, and I’ll be answering those soon.
Keep in mind, everything I do is for the welfare of the club and my brothers.
Club is life and brotherhood is sacred. That’s in my mind with every move I make.
Always. There’s still a lot I don’t know yet, but enough that it’s time to bring it to the table once Slayer returns.
For now, I need you all to clear your minds and keep them on the task at hand. Can y’all do that?”
There’re still questions in their eyes, some more mutinous than others, but they quickly agree to his terms. After all, we can only handle one problem at a time and right now, the professor is the biggest one against us.
I warned Rip that keeping secrets would come back to haunt him, but no matter what, I know in my gut that every single damn thing he does, is for the better of the club.
He eats, sleeps, and breathes the Kings.
“We got your back, Rip,” I announce, stepping in front of him so all of their eyes swivel to me.
“I’ve questioned you one too many times about keeping things from us, but since I haven’t walked a mile in your shoes, and since you’ve never given any one of us a reason to doubt you, I’ve got your back. ”
I know I’m singing a different tune, but Rip put his foot up my ass earlier and reminded me about the sacrifices he’s made for us all.
And that’s not something I take lightly.
He’s gone above and beyond for every damn one of us.
That’s something I want them to remember before they go off halfcocked and say something they’ll regret later on down the road.
Shade walks in front of me, facing Rip, and says, “Let’s make that canary sing, pres.”
Icer, as usual, grunts but as he does, he sends each member of the club a defiant glare, daring them to step out of line.
Indiana rolls his eyes and scowls. “Enough of y’all acting like spoiled blockheads.
Y’all got beef, voice that later… or not since it’ll lead to you all getting your asses whooped.
” His words are a clear warning to those who plan on disrespecting our leader, the man in charge who puts us above himself no matter how it affects his personal life.
I notice as each of them look ashamed at whatever path their thoughts went down.
Then, one by one, they nod their head and uncoil their bodies.
Now that the tension has been broken, and we’re unified once again, we walk into the room that Mr. Stratton is chained in and each one of us takes up a stationary position that circles him in an arc since his back is strapped to the wall.
Rip walks over to the corner, grabs the one chair in the room, drags it to the center, turns it backward, and straddles it.
“Found your live stream, Professor. Our techie disabled it, put a virus in it so whomever tries to open the link will kill their computer. All of your hard work was for nothing. You lose this game of chess you’ve started.
We are the Kings and you’re nothing more than a jester. Check mate, motherfucker.”
A smile quirks on my lips as Riptide antagonizes the jackass who held my woman prisoner because his mind got contorted on some make-believe people.
Characters in a book that came from my old lady’s imagination.
They never had blood flowing through their veins, they never took a first or last breath because they don’t exist—they never did and they never will.
I don’t pretend to understand the way the human mind works, but there are some people who just aren’t born right, something is missing inside of them, and those are the individuals who need to be put down for the betterment of mankind.
“You think you’ve won,” Mr. Stratton laughs.
“There are bigger fish in the pond that are coming after you. And trust me, you can’t beat these people.
They caught wind of my fixation and pounced.
They offered me things that you could only dream of if I made her disappear.
They wanted you scrambling, and I accomplished that, didn’t I?
For a minute there, your focus was on finding her and not paying attention to other things going on around you. ”
“This fucker looks awful proud of himself, pres. I think we need to wipe that smirk off his face,” Indiana suggests, popping his knuckles. “I’d be happy to do it.”
“I think he’s talking too much smack, I’d be glad to remove his tongue from his mouth,” Shade offers.
Stepping forward, I say, “He looks a little too steady on those legs of his, I’d be willing to break both of his kneecaps.”
“His teeth are a little too pearly white, they’re blinding and offensive, I think they should be plucked from his mouth, one at a time. I have my pliers with me if you’d like me to take care of that,” Rebel volunteers.
A grin spreads on my face from one cheek to the other when a wet stain appears dead center of his jeans. “Look at that, gentlemen, the professor pissed his pants.”
“I’ll tell you whatever you want to know as long as you don’t touch me,” Mr. Stratton pleads.
“That’s the thing, professor, we don’t need you to.
I told you we have a man that can figure all of that out for us, and for the most part, he has.
We know you're in knee deep with the senator, her son, Patrick, and his butt buddy, Jerome. We know that once upon a time, you were a member of his gang. We know you’re nothing more than a pony boy, a sacrificial lamb who they sent to the slaughter. ”
A lot of what he’s saying is news to me, something Booker must’ve recently discovered and shared with Riptide.
“That the text you received that had us rolling out?” I actually thought it was due to the police presence, but now things are starting to click and I know we don’t have to keep this fucker alive because we know all we need to.
“That and the fact that the five-o was getting hot and heavy,” Riptide answers. “And we had some unresolved business that needed taking care of.”
“No. Please don’t,” the professor begs.
“Did my woman beg? Did she plead with you not to touch her, to let her go? Did she ask for freedom you weren’t willing to give her because you’re a selfish, neurotic bastard?” I step closer to him, and shout, “Did she?”
“Yes,” he spits out, slobber tracking down his chin. “But I couldn’t let her go even if I wanted to! It was just going to be for a little bit, all she had to do was rewrite their book! Make it better, give her to the right man!”
“Who, professor? You? Do you honestly think you’re better for her than I am?” I ask, anger radiating from my entire being.
“Yes! You’re dangerous,” he accuses.
My entire body vibrates as I get in his face, our noses nearly touching, jabbing my finger into his chest, I ask, “And you’re not?
You’re affiliated with a gang, motherfucker.
I’m part of a club, a brotherhood. We may not be law-abiding citizens, but we’re honorable, we’d never put an innocent person in the path of war.
We’d never use a woman as a pawn unless she steps up to us like she’s a man. ”
Booker comes sprinting into the room, his eyes wide and freaked out. “End him. End him now! One of you do it, or I will.”
Something’s put a bug up his ass, but he never demands anything, and the fact that he is now has questions bouncing around in my head, but I’m not sure now is the time to ask them.
Riptide must have come to the same conclusion as me because he lifts his gun and fires off a shot, the bullet connecting with Mr. Stratton’s skull, a dead shot between his eyes, and he does that without standing from his seat.
“What the fuck, Booker?” Pres asks, fury plastered on his face.
“Why are deaths so quick these days?” Shade complains. “We haven’t been able to play with our enemies lately.”
Riptide sends him a ‘shut it’ look and turns his attention back to Booker, asking, “What was that about, Book?”
“He’s an original. He started the Devils that are now the Dragons. He’s a founding member, he implanted a tracker into himself. They know we have him, Rip.”
Rip turns to Icer and commands, “Burn him.” Icer unlocks his shackles and the two of them take him through the underground tunnels that lead to the incendiary.
Once they make it through the doors, a few of the others grab our cleaning supplies, the water hose, and get to work sanitizing the room so no traces of the professor’s DNA is left behind.
“How much trouble are we in here, Booker?” I ask, my mind already gearing up for a battle.
“I wiped his coordinates, but I’m not sure if anybody saw them before I found it, disabled it, and wiped it clean,” he admits.
“Then we reenact lockdown, nobody travels alone, and when the old ladies have to go to their doctor appointments, they go with a convoy,” Riptide edicts.
“In other words, nothing’s changed,” I input.
“They have,” Riptide disagrees. “We get stricter. We take no chances. Y’all hear me?”
“We hear you,” we unanimously say.
“Let’s just hope that Booker took care of it before they saw a damn thing. I don’t want any inquiries into the club, we need to tread lightly here, brothers.”
“Don’t we always?” I counter.
“I’m heading to the office to call Slayer, it’s time for him to come home,” Riptide announces as he pushes up from his chair and marches out of the catacombs.
We all get to work, going behind our cleaners and making sure this place is spic and span.
It’ll be next to impossible for someone to find this hidden bunker, but in case they do, we’ll have our tracks covered since we clean up after ourselves each time we end someone’s life.
“Sphinx needs to get gone,” I say, vocalizing what we’re all thinking but none of us are willing to voice aloud.
“I’ll talk to Rip,” Indiana says. “If he’s not meeting his maker, he needs to go to another club for some rehabilitation.”
“Rio?” I ask.
“He and his men would be the best men for the job. But that’s between Rip and his cousin to decide. We just need to make sure whatever choice they make, we stand behind them.”
“May there be mercy for his soul because if BamBam gets his hands on him, he’ll be begging for death. That man does not like it when the Kings are betrayed by one of their own.”