32. Player
Chapter thirty-two
Player
We make good time but need to stop to refuel.
We’re parked at the pumps when Drae gets a text.
“He pulled out while we were on the highway. Stone has a hang-around following him in a red minivan. They got off on Route 416.”
I pull up my map app and search the satellite image of the road. My brothers gather around me. I point at an area. “We’re not far. If we catch him in this stretch, it’s all farmland.”
Drae points to another spot. “This looks like a wooded area. That would be the best solution. We get him on the side of the road, maybe with a blown tire. We can drag him into the woods and finish him there.”
“You that good a shot?” I ask with a grin.
“That’s all you, VP. You’re our crack shot.”
He’s not lying. “Fine. I’ll take out his tire. Any of you know how to drive a rig that size with a blown tire?”
“I can manage it,” Beck says. “Won’t be able to go far, though.”
“I just want it far enough from his body that no one thinks to look for him in that area.”
“If it’s a rear tire, I can probably manage a mile,” Beck says.
“Okay. We spot him, I’m gonna hit the first turnaround I see and come up behind him. Let’s move.”
We pull out, and in less than fifteen minutes I spot the neon green and black rig with a red minivan following at a distance. Slowing, I hold up my hand and we make a U-turn.
I follow him until we reach the wooded area.
There’s no traffic for miles. Nodding to Drae, he surges forward with the rest of the crew to distract this asshole, and I ease up alongside him.
Raising my gun, I blast out his tire. He swerves and manhandles the rig to the side of the road.
The red minivan drives on. The five of us roll to a stop in front of him.
Randall jumps down from his cab with a goddamn baseball bat, his face red with anger. “You motherfucker. Did you shoot my tire?”
“No, man. It blew. Horrible luck. You okay?”
He looks confused. “Sorry. I thought you shot it.”
“Fuck no, man. Why would I do that? Cool lookin’ rig you’ve got. I love that race team. Big NASCAR fan.”
“Yeah, me too.” He moves to squat and look at his blown tire. “This fucking sucks.”
“Hey, come here,” I say, and when he stands I throw my arm around him. “Let my boys do the work for you.”
“For real?”
“Sure. What are friends for?” Once I get him around the truck to the grassy embankment, we jump him and drag him into the trees.
We work quickly and get him tied to the trunk of a big oak tree. Drae slaps a piece of duct tape over his mouth.
“Beck,” I say. “Move the truck.”
“Now?”
“Yes, now. Hurry.”
He takes off, and I turn my attention to the asshole who hurt my woman. I pull my Bowie knife and hold the wicked blade in front of his face.
His eyes widen, and he tries to talk, but it comes out garbled.
I grin. “You know why I’m here?”
He shakes his head.
“Taylor.”
His eyes flare with anger, and I swear I hear the muffled word bitch behind his tape.
I stab him but not too deep. I don’t want this to be over too quickly.
Now, he’s sweating and blubbering like a fucking pig, blood trickling down from his gut.
I wipe my blade on his shirt and put it back in the sheath at my hip. Then I pull out a cigarette and flick my lighter, watching the flame catch the tip. My eyes lift to Randall, and I grin. He’s turned white as a sheet now, his eyes wild.
He knows.
“It’s gonna be painful, Randall. You’re gonna beg me to kill you before I’m through with you.”
Drae glances toward the road, and I know what he’s thinking. I can’t afford to drag this out. We’ve got to get out of here before our bikes attract attention.
Still, this man has to pay.
It takes me fifteen minutes to finish him off. By the time I slit his throat, he’s got burns all over his body and is about to lose consciousness. No point in continuing if he can’t feel it anymore.
“Let’s go,” I say, and turn to find Pony heaving with one hand against a tree. Slapping his back, I haul him up. “Get on your fucking bike. He deserved it all, little brother.”
Pony nods, wipes his sleeve across his mouth, and stumbles ahead of me. Drae and I follow behind him without a word. I text Gage that the job is done, then Taylor. I know she’s worrying.
ME: On our way back.
The wind in my face on the return ride is the only healing therapy guys like us get. For what it’s worth, it does its job.
I don’t regret a thing.
That scum deserved to die.
The world is a better place without him in it.
Now I just want to get back to Taylor.
By the time we arrive, it's mid-afternoon.
People pour out of the doors at the sound of our bikes rolling up at the clubhouse.
I’m barely off my bike when Taylor hits my body, and I clutch her tight. “It’s over, baby. He’ll never hurt you again.”
“Let’s get inside,” Gage says.
Taylor and I are one of the last ones inside; only two more stand, unmoving. I glance over and see my sister staring at Drae. He wants to hold her, and she him. It’s written on both their faces, in the tension in their bodies.
I stand, waiting.
Drae glances at me, then back at Cici, and lifts his chin to the door.
She turns and heads my way.
I hold the door, and she slips past me.
Drae’s jaw ticks as he follows.
Once we’re all inside, Gage calls church, and we follow him down the hall. I give Taylor a final kiss, and tell her I won’t be long.
Once he calls the room to order, I fill him in, and he nods.
“Good. We’ve got other matters to attend to.”
I assume he means the Depraved Sinners, but he pins me with his eyes.
“That bitch, Molly… She needs to be dealt with.” He points his finger at the wooden table. “I want her found.”
“I get that, Prez, but the crew has been run ragged. Hell, we barely returned from riding from Cali, before we were heading out to find VP’s girl and battle it out with the Sinners.
We just made another trip to get that asshole for Player.
Now you want us to turn the city upside down lookin’ for that bitch? ” Beck growls.
“You’ll do what the fuck I say you’ll do,” Gage snaps, and Beck shuts his mouth.
“I’ll start with the strip club. Find out when she works next,” Cruz says. “They’ll have her address on file. I can ride over there.”
“I’m going with you,” I say.
“VP, I can handle it. You’re exhausted.”
“I said I’m going.”
“Me too,” Drea adds.
“Slaughter awake yet?” I ask. “How’s he doin’?”
“He’s been up for a couple of hours. He’s his old self. Probably would climb on his bike and go with you, if I let him,” Gage says.
“What about the Sinners?”
“They’re in Maryland. The club down there is keeping eyes on them. We’ll make a move eventually, but I want to take my time with that. It may not happen anytime soon.”
I get where he’s coming from. War with the Depraved Sinners will drag every chapter into it, and it’s not to be taken lightly. National hasn’t wanted us to go there, even when they hit our last clubhouse years ago.
Gage may have to wait, but I know he’ll figure a way to make them pay.
We adjourn and Cruz, Drae, and I head out into the main room. I find Taylor.
“I’ve got one more trip to make. I’m sorry.”
“Are you kidding? You just got back.”
I cup her face with my palm. “I’m sorry. It’s local. Not goin’ far.”
She searches my eyes. “I guess I have to get used to this if I’m going to be a part of your life.”
“It isn’t always like this. Usually, things are pretty quiet. Before long, we’ll all be partying at the beach. Just be patient a little longer, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Maybe you and Cici could help Mama Pearl. This crew gets hungry.”
“Sure.”
I kiss her once more, then walk out after my brothers.