Chapter Eighteen #3
“Oh, shit no, I didn’t mean.” He shakes his head and holds his roped hands up toward Fury. “You’re just as… oh, fuck.”
“Tell us about the Demon Sinners.” I drag his attention back.
For the first time since I came in, Wallen looks confused. “What?”
Fury moves to my side so he can see Wallen’s face. Wallen shuffles in his seat in case Fury shows him he is as scary as Stryker. What he is really doing is studying his body language and facial expressions, making sure they match up with his words.
“Don’t fuck about with me, they’ve been seen in Baltimore.”
“I don’t know anything about that,” he shouts. “I swear to God.”
“You know how bad shit will get if another MC is in this city because Storm brought them here.”
“If he did, he didn’t tell me. I swear to God, Rebel.”
“You swear to God a lot,” Fury tilts his head. “You’re the least religious man I’ve met, Wallen.”
“It’s a figure of speech, but I mean it. If I had answers, I’d tell you.”
“You know who they are.”
He shakes his head, glances at Fury, then thinks better of it.
“Only the ones in Virginia, but I don’t deal with them. The Kivisto’s don’t like them. They steer clear of each other, some kind of agreement.”
I exchange a glance with Fury when Wallen isn’t looking, he’s too busy freaking out.
“And?”
“What?”
“What else?” Fury kicks him, and Wallen folds in on himself.
He reminds me of an armadillo, curling into a ball to protect itself, except he has none of the armored skin. Fury shrugs when I give a disapproving look.
“Storm reached out to Jackal a couple times, but I don’t think they are into anything together. I don’t know why they would be in Baltimore. They’re scary fuckers, I want nothing to do with that.”
“Jackal’s their Pres?” I ask. Wallen nods.
“He’s…” Wallen pauses and swallows dramatically. “If you’re going up against them, he doesn’t give a shit about anything or anyone. There is a reason the Kivisto’s want nothing to do with them.”
“Is Storm patching in with them?”
“He doesn’t tell me shit like that, but,” he perks up, shifting on his scrawny ass as best he can with his hands still tied.
“He doesn’t want to be part of their MC.
He still considers himself a part of… you guys.
He er…” he looks up at Fury, then me, stupidly thinking I’m the best one to talk to. “He got a tattoo.”
My tone is dangerous when I ask, after letting that sink in. “What tattoo?”
“The uh… the patch… the…” he stutters, pointing at my midriff.
The Blackhawk logo is on my back, but it’s obvious what he means. That fucking scumbag re-tattooed the club patch we burned off him?
“All I know about the Demon Sinners is he got friendly with a couple of them. Lower-level guys. I think he might want to recruit them when he… comes back.” He gulps and trails off.
The level of delusion just grew exponentially. Storm is out of his fucking mind if that is his plan. I’m going to take great pleasure in burning that tattoo off him again, before we gut him.
Wallen might not have too much information on the Demon Sinners, but he did just give us something we can use.
No one in an MC takes kindly to traitors, and Storm is doing what he does best, convincing people with no power he can give it to them if they do what he asks.
Like Kivisto wanting to impress his father.
Or low-level members of the Demon Sinners who think they’ll get a better deal with Storm.
He’s probably promised them a place on his council. Storm wants revenge for getting kicked out, but I didn’t think he’d still be obsessively thinking he’s owed the place of President.
“I’ll call Nero,” I tell Fury.
He needs to hear all of this. I lean forward and grab the front of Wallen’s cheap shirt so hard, some of the buttons fly off. He curses but doesn’t struggle.
“Finish telling Fury everything like a good little rat. And remember what I said, Kirk. You do what we say and you’ll be protected. You fuck up,” I drag him till we’re nose to nose. “You won’t need to watch your back because they’ll come for you head-on.”
I push him and he falls to the ground, banging his head, but he doesn’t take his eyes off me. How this guy got himself on the inside with a mafia family is beyond me. Makes me think the Kivisto’s are just as dumb as Storm.
I’ve seen defeated people before, but none as miserable as Wallen looks right now. It’s amazing how he was so confident and full of bullshit with Kivisto in that hotel room yesterday, wearing his sharp suit and thinking he was one of the big boys.
He is pathetic. Willing to sell out whoever offers him the worst option.
I leave Fury to deal with him and head through the side door that leads to the back entrance of the clubhouse. We’ve got a lot to go on now, Fury can get Wallen to slip up and give away Storm’s location.
There is no sign of Kinsley, but the spires are enough to make me think of her. The temptation to tell her I managed not to kill a guy today is pretty strong.
But the day isn’t over yet, and I’ve never been one to jump the gun and say something that might not be true.