Chapter Twelve
Rebel
The last time I was at Nero’s house, we were scraping a dead body off the kitchen floor. A man who broke in here intending to hurt Taylor and Jesse and take Nero’s son. He deserved what he got and more.
There is no sign of the damage done that day, and Nero hasn’t shied away from being here, despite the violence. If Taylor was hoping to come here, or even her dad’s house across town, she’s in for disappointment. Nero is determined to keep his old lady away from danger.
Even as I think I’m glad I’m not in his shoes, an image of Kinsley’s face pops into my head. How can it be that a woman I barely know, who has made it clear that she isn’t interested in me, is invading my brain so much?
It’s still playing on my mind how visceral Kinsley’s reaction was to that phone call.
I couldn’t get a read on her. The normal Kinsley would have fought back when I told her she looked scared, but she got defensive and left. Another thing to add to my list is finding out why a detective was calling, and why a woman I’ve never known to show fear, did at seeing that name.
“What did Eastwood say?” I ask, standing by the doors that lead out to the garden. Nero passes me a beer and leans back against the counter.
“He asked me outright about Patrick?”
That makes my eyebrows lift. “He knows?”
“He’s a smart guy, we got away with it as long as we could.”
It’s been three years since Nero embedded one of our associates in the church. Someone to keep an eye on things from the other side of those doors.
Patrick isn’t a member, he is Beast’s brother-in-law and he needed a second chance. Someone prepared to do whatever it took to make his life better.
Working at the church gave him that and gave us a man on the inside. Nero makes sure we’re surrounded by people we can trust. The previous priest had no idea when he gave Patrick the job.
Eastwood is younger, more involved in what goes on around the church, not just showing up to read mass or officiate weddings and christenings. And let’s face it, if he is anything like his cousin, he will put his nose anywhere, just in a more subtle manner.
“Does he want him out?”
“No,” Nero says, sounding mildly surprised. “He’s a hard worker, a good man, and a benefit to the church. He was leveraging the knowledge to get information out of me.”
“Worth a shot,” I smirk taking a swig of the beer. “What did you tell him?”
“That we’ll do whatever we can to keep it away from the church. I asked him to keep an eye out and tell us if they see anything suspicious. What do you know about the artist?”
“Not a lot,” I say with a straight face. Nero has a way of reading your mind if you let him. I’ve mastered the art of keeping him out of my head. “She’s smart, sees things.”
“Do we need to watch her?”
“No, she’s got a mouth on her and is pushy as hell, but she’s not a problem. Apart from being friends with Raven,” I add with a shake of my head.
“Well, without her we would have missed seeing that fucker. We’ve been caught up with everything the last twenty-four hours, but I want to know how the fuck he was sat outside the clubhouse with no one seeing him.”
I’d thought the same. “I’ll get Nashville on it.”
He deals with the members if things go tits up. He’ll figure out if someone wasn’t where they were supposed to be. We’ve already rooted out one traitor. None of us want to think there could be more.
Nero walks around me into the sitting room. Putting Kinsley out of my head, for now, I follow him and take a seat. He wastes no more time getting to the point.
“No one is coming into my city and making me run and hide. I don’t give a fuck who they are.”
“The Demon Sinners are different.”
“Which is even more reason to run them the fuck out of here. And fast.”
How he intends to do that, I’m not sure.
Blaze filled us in on who the Demon Sinners are.
Their founding chapter is in Finland, where the Kivisto’s are from.
He spent hours researching them and told us the MCs over there run death squads.
Murder for hire, and they don’t care who the target is, they’ve killed elderly people, women, kids, there is no moral compass.
They’re bad news and people fear them, including the mafia families.
We stay away from mafia guys. They fight too much and are always killing each other. Getting into bed with a mafia family is the furthest thing from our minds.
Things work differently in the US, and although there are some bloodthirsty MCs out there, most of them only do it when the club is threatened, not because they’re getting paid for it.
We’re a perfect example of that right now, there is a threat to both us and our families, and that is why we are prepared to fight back.
After reaching out to other trusted clubs on the East Coast who may have come across them, Blaze confirmed they don’t appear as bad as their parent chapters in Europe. But it has raised red flags in the neighboring states, knowing there is a chapter close to home.
We’re criminals, we do bad shit, but what Nero has cultivated in the community over the last few years has made the cops leave us alone.
We do everything we can to avoid law enforcement, and when we interact with them, it’s the ones bought and paid off. So long as what we do isn’t overt or dragging innocents into it, there is an unspoken agreement between us and the law.
“This could get messy,” I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees.
“We’ve never had to deal with a club sneaking into the city and spying on us. That’s an act of disrespect we can’t let lie.”
“Do you think Storm patched in with them?” I ask.
He mulls the question over, then shakes his head. “He wouldn’t have this much sway over a whole MC if he had only just joined. And all the intel points to him never going to West Virginia until after we found out Chains was snitching for him.”
“Which begs the question what is he offering to make them come into our territory and not announce themselves,” I sigh. “How do we figure it out? I’m sick and fucking tired of running around in circles. Where are we with Kivisto? Does he have anything to do with the Sinners?”
“Not that Blaze has come across while monitoring him.”
“We need an alternative plan, Noah.”
His head comes up on hearing his name.
“We can stay on the Kivisto angle. The Sinners are on a different level. Storm is causing havoc, but the Sinners could start a fucking war. They’re animals, people could die.”
“Blaze is trying to identify the one outside the clubhouse, but we need to find out who their president is. Shit,” he scrubs a hand down his face. “I’m not scared of these motherfuckers, we will get them out of our city in whatever way possible.”
“You want to arrange a sit-down?” I frown.
“Whatever it takes. We need more, we need to know everything. Wallen is coming here to meet Kivisto. We need to know if the Sinners are connected to them. If we’re going up against them,” he carries on, getting to his feet with a pissed off look on his face.
“We need to know if Storm has a whole ass fucking mafia family behind him as well as this MC.
“Ronin will be back here with Wallen, his job was to stick with him. I trust him with that, but dealing with the Kivisto’s is going to take more finesse. Talking to them needs someone higher up, or the assholes will feel disrespected.
“And before you go off at me again, I mean after Wallen is back here, after we grab him and Kivisto and find out what they know. We go down there forewarned with more goddamn knowledge than what we have now.”
The more I think about it, the more everything he is saying makes sense. This is a job Nero should do, but he can’t leave the city, there is a huge problem here, in the shape of a bloodthirsty MC.
I’m the next best person to handle approaching the Kivisto’s. It’s an important job, but not one we need to worry about right now.
My head hurts and I drive a hand through my hair in frustration, eyes still locked on his.
“You get it now?” he asks. “You’re going to stop questioning me and acting like a fucking prospect.”
“Don’t call me that,” I growl.
“Then don’t act like one.”
“Fuck,” I mutter and head to the couch, dropping into it. “This whole thing has got me fucked up.”
“Doesn’t mean you get to disrespect my decisions.”
“Okay,” I grunt out. An apology should come next, but it’s stuck in my throat.
“Get your head straight, Rebel. I need you to back me, and you’re the only person I trust to do this.
For now, handle Detective Maguire.” Nero’s tone is less confrontational.
Me sitting down shows I get the message loud and clear, letting him stand over me.
“Is he in contact with Wallen’s parole officer?
” When I nod, he goes on. “As soon as we have what we need from that prick, I want him off the street and out of play.”
“Once he’s back in prison, we lose intel and any control over him.”
“We have men in there,” Nero says, reminding me there are at least three Disciples serving time, as well as people who work for us inside those walls. “Wallen isn’t going away quietly, but he is getting out of Storm’s reach.”
“Okay,” I stare through the large windows to the garden and try to get my shit under control.
“Don’t question me again, Rebel. We’re not seeing eye to eye on this, but there are big players involved. Storm wants this, he thinks we’re going to be running around like headless chickens, scared of the Kivisto’s and the Demon Sinners.”
“Scared,” I scoff.
“We kicked him out of the club before he understood what kind of leadership the Disciples are under now. He doesn’t know us well enough. He thinks we’re too young.”
He’s right, Nero is heading towards his forties. Previous presidents have been a lot older and what Storm would define as more experienced. Nero is one of the toughest and smartest bastards I’ve ever met. Under him, the club has never been stronger.
“Blaze is looking closer at the Heikkinen’s.”
“The rival family?” I ask in surprise.