Chapter 4 - Rage
I pace the length of the conference room, too wired to sit despite having been up all night. The clubhouse is on high alert, brothers positioned at every entrance, weapons ready. If the Eagles are planning something for tonight, we'll be prepared, all thanks to her. To Claire.
King sits at the head of the table, his face impassive as he reads through the notes Tank made during our conversation with Claire last night.
Luna now sits beside him, her blue eyes tracking me as I move.
It's unusual for King to bring his old lady to a security meeting, but Luna's got good instincts about people, especially women in trouble.
If Claire is playing us, Luna will sense it.
"She's telling the truth," I say, unable to keep silent any longer. "About the beatings at least. I saw her ribs. No one does that to themselves."
King looks up, his cold blue eyes revealing nothing. "I believe she was beaten. Question is whether she's telling the truth about who did it and why she's here."
"Could be a plant," Tank says from his position by the door. "Eagles send in a sympathy case, we take her in, she feeds us false intel while gathering information."
"That's bullshit," I snap. "You saw her. She's terrified."
"Fear can be faked," Tank counters.
"Not that kind," Luna interjects softly. "Not the kind that makes you flinch when someone raises their hand too quickly."
King places his palm over Luna's hand, a gesture of acknowledgment and agreement that's become automatic between them. "We'll hear her out," he says. "But we verify everything before making any moves based on her information."
The door opens, and Beast enters, Claire following close behind. She's changed into jeans and a loose shirt, her blonde hair pulled back in a simple ponytail.
She looks better than she did last night. At least she's gotten some sleep, but still carries herself like someone expecting a blow at any moment.
Her eyes widen slightly as she takes in the room. King with his silver-streaked dark hair and penetrating stare, Luna beside him, Tank by the door, and me, still pacing like a caged animal.
"Sit," King says, gesturing to the empty chair across from him.
Claire complies, perching on the edge of the seat as if ready to flee at any moment. Her eyes dart briefly to me, seeking reassurance. I give her a small nod and finally take a seat next to her, partly to make her more comfortable and partly because King's giving me the "sit the fuck down" look.
"I'm King," he says simply. "President of the Savage Riders. This is my wife, Luna. You've already met Tank and Rage."
Claire nods, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. "Thank you for seeing me. For letting me stay last night."
"Tank tells me your ex is Tommy Reeves. Iron Eagles."
She flinches slightly at the name but nods. "Yes."
"And he did that to your face? And your ribs?"
"Yes." Her voice is stronger now, steadier.
King leans forward slightly. "Why come to us? You must know we're at war with the Eagles."
"I didn't choose this, and I had nowhere else to go," she says simply. "The buses aren't running. I couldn't get out of town."
"But why our clubhouse?" King presses. "Why not the police? Or a women's shelter?"
She gives a bitter laugh. "The Eagles have cops on their payroll. And there's no shelter in Blackwater Falls. The nearest one is in Riverbrook, thirty miles away. I tried to call them yesterday after I left, but they're full."
Luna glances at King. I know what she's thinking. We should establish a shelter in town. It's been on her list of community projects since she moved in with King.
"How did you find our clubhouse?" Tank asks, still by the door, still trying to catch her in a lie.
"I didn't. Rage brought me here," Claire replies.
"You told him and Tank that the Eagles are planning to hit us tonight," King continues. "During what they believe will be a wake for Vincent Kemp."
She nods. "That's what I overheard Tommy saying. They think you'll all be gathered here, celebrating. They're planning to surround the building and attack from all sides."
"How many?" King asks, his voice cool and analytical.
"At least twenty that I've seen personally. Tommy mentioned more coming from other chapters."
"And they've established a forward position on Cherry Street?"
"That's what I heard. Tommy mentioned it on the phone with someone. He said they had 'eyes on the approach from Cherry.'"
"When did you last see Tommy?" I ask, breaking my silence.
She turns to me. "Two nights ago. After he did this." She gestures vaguely toward her ribs. "He went out with some of his brothers. When he came back, he was drunk, ranting about Vincent and revenge. He eventually passed out, and I left."
"Where were you staying?" Tank asks.
"The Westside Motel. Room 17." She looks down at her hands. "It was just temporary. Tommy said we'd move to a 'better place' once things settled down."
My jaw tightens at the implication. Once they'd wiped us out, they'd be taking over our territory permanently.
"What else can you tell us about their operations?" King asks. "Anything about their gunrunning, drug production, distribution networks?"
She hesitates, clearly weighing how much to share. "I know they use the old paper mill in Millfield as a distribution center for guns. Tommy bragged about it once. He said they had a connection with someone who diverts shipments from a manufacturer before they're logged in the system."
King nods, encouraging her to continue.
"There's also a meth lab near the county line," she adds. "I don't know exactly where, but Tommy mentioned it was on some farm property owned by someone's uncle."
"Names?" Tank presses.
She shakes her head. "Tommy didn't talk business around me much. Just bragged occasionally when he was drunk or wanted to impress me with how powerful he was."
"What about Vulture?" King asks, using the Eagles' president's road name. "How involved is he in planning this attack?"
"Very," Claire says with certainty. "Tommy talked to him multiple times a day. Said Vulture was personally overseeing this operation because..." She trails off, looking uncomfortable.
"Because what?" I prompt.
"Because it's personal for him. Because of his brother."
The room goes silent. We all know the history.
King killed Marcus "Talon" Reeves in self-defense five years ago when the Eagles tried to move into our territory.
It was a fair fight, but Vulture never saw it that way.
He's been building his club and his hatred ever since, waiting for the right moment to strike back.
"Is Vulture in Blackwater Falls now?" King asks, his voice betraying no emotion despite the personal nature of the question.
"I don't think so," Claire says. "Not yet. Tommy said he was coming for the 'main event'. I assume that means tonight's attack."
King processes this information, his face unreadable. Then he turns to Luna. "What do you think?"
"I believe her," she says simply. "The details match what we already know or suspect. And her injuries are consistent with her story."
Claire looks surprised that Luna's opinion carries such weight. She doesn't understand yet that Luna is more than just King's wife. She's his moral compass, the one person whose judgment he trusts implicitly.
King nods and turns back to Claire. "Here's how this works.
We'll verify what we can of your information.
If it checks out, we help you get out of town and somewhere safe once this situation is resolved.
In the meantime, you stay here, out of sight.
You tell no one else what you've told us. Understood?"
She nods quickly. "Yes. Thank you."
King stands, signaling the end of the meeting. "Luna will get you set up with whatever you need—clothes, toiletries, food. Tank, call a full church meeting for noon. All members, all prospects."
Tank nods and heads out, already on his phone. King leans down to kiss Luna briefly before following Tank out the door, his mind clearly already working through strategies and contingency plans.
Luna moves to sit beside Claire, her voice gentle as she asks about immediate needs. I should leave them to it, but I find myself hesitating, watching as Claire's shoulders gradually relax in Luna's presence.
"Rage?" Luna looks up, noticing my lingering. "Can you ask Jenny to bring some clothes? Claire and I look about the same size, but Jenny's closer to her height."
"Sure thing," I reply, grateful for the task. It gives me a reason to stay involved, to keep an eye on the situation—on Claire—without seeming like I'm hovering.
As I step out into the hallway, I find Beast waiting, his massive arms crossed over his chest.
"What's your read?" I ask him quietly.
Beast considers the question. He may look like a mindless enforcer, but he's one of the most perceptive brothers in the club. It's why Tank assigned him to guard Claire last night.
"She's genuine," he says finally. "Had a nightmare around three. Cried a bit, thought I couldn't hear. Later got up and rewrapped her own ribs. Didn't try to leave the room, didn't snoop around. Just sat on the bed for a while, looking lost."
I nod, relieved by his assessment. "King's keeping her here for now. I'm going to call your girlfriend for some clothes."
Beast raises an eyebrow slightly. It's subtle, but I catch his meaning.
"What?" I ask defensively.
"Nothing." His voice remains neutral, but there's a knowing look in his eyes. "Just noticed you've taken a personal interest in our guest."
"She's got a piece of shit hunting her," I reply. "Someone needs to look out for her."
Beast shrugs his massive shoulders. "Didn't say it was a problem. Just an observation."