19. Smitty
SMITTY
“Yeah.” The color drained from Benson’s face as he stared at the photograph and said, “That’s Chains… At least, that’s what my ol’ man called him.”
“So, you know him.”
“I wouldn’t say I know him.” Benson swallowed. “Nobody really knows him.”
“You just said your dad ran with him.”
“I said my dad called him Chains. Not that he ran with him.” He looked away from the picture with a grimace. “Nobody really ran with him.”
“I’m not following.”
“The guy was different.” He shrugged. “The other guys would get drunk. They’d fight and raise hell. They stole stuff and did biker shit.”
“And Chains?”
He looked up at me as he said, “That dude had a screw loose.”
I didn’t say anything. I could tell by the look on the kid’s face he had more to say, so I just kept my questions to myself and listened. “A few years back, me and a couple of the other guys were fishing down at the pond behind my grandma’s place… Chains showed up.”
“And?”
“He asked if we’d seen his dog. We hadn’t, so we told him no and went on fishing.” His voice grew quiet as he added, “But about an hour later, when we were on our way back home, we came across him… He was dead. His throat had been slit.”
Benson shook his head.
I could tell the memory had stuck with him, especially when he added, “Chains was standing there beside him, blade still in his hand, and… he was smiling.”
"Smiling?”
“Yeah, it was sick as hell.” He rolled his shoulders like he was trying to shake the memory of it. “He said the dog wouldn’t listen… figured he’d teach him a lesson. Who does that? Who kills their own damn dog?”
“I gotta admit, it is pretty fucked up.”
“The smile made it worse… I won’t ever forget it.” He rubbed at one of the rope burns around his wrist. “After that, nobody wanted their kids around him… We didn’t want to be around him anyway. Hell, that motherfucker was crazy.”
“Why did they keep him around?”
“Hell if I know,” he huffed. “Probably because he was crazy enough to do the stupid shit they didn’t wanna do. And if somebody needed to be hurt, Chains was more than happy to do it.”
“So, he was in the club with your ol’ man?”
“Oh, yeah. He was their enforcer… I think that’s what they called it.”
“You got anything else?”
“Nah, not that I can think of.” He thought for a moment, then said, “I remember there being a big fight at the club. One of the brothers got beat up pretty bad and died. Chains went after the guy who’d done it and killed him and his whole damn family.”
“He’s got himself a thirst for revenge, huh?”
“I don’t know why he did any of the shit he did… He’s just fucking crazy.” He shook his head. “If he thought someone crossed him in some way, he didn’t stop until they paid for it.”
“Sounds like a swell guy.” I slipped the picture back in my pocket as I asked, “Got any idea where I might find him?”
“Got no clue.”
“Come on. You gotta have something.”
“They used to hang at the clubhouse every Tuesday night and most weekends, and if they weren’t there, they were either at home, work, or Murphy’s bar across town. At least, that’s how it was for my ol’ man and his buddies. Not sure if Chains was there with them or not.”
“Anywhere else?”
“There was a cabin out by Lake Maumelle. Didn’t really belong to the club or anything, at least I don’t think so.
But some of the guys would use it during huntin’ season and when they wanted to fish…
Sometimes they went out there and got wasted for a few days.
Mom always hated that place. She said it was the Den of Sin… I don’t know. Maybe she was right.”
“Where is this Den of Sin?”
“I don’t know the address or anything. But it’s the only one around the campsite with a bright Tennessee orange front door and a rebel flag next to the fire pit.”
“Shouldn’t be hard to track down.”
I stood, sliding my chair back, and Benson’s head snapped up. “You’re leaving?”
“Afraid so.”
“But you said…” He sounded beyond desperate when he continued, “You said if I had something I could end up on the better side of all this.”
“Yeah, I did say that.”
“I gave you everything I know.”
“Well, let’s hope it’s enough.” I gave him a slight shrug. “If it’s not, the dude with the crowbar will be back.”
“Aw, fuck. Don’t do me like that, man.”
“You helped us today. I’m sure they will look favorably on it.”
“That mean they might throw some cash or something my way?” The question caught me off guard.
Not because he wanted money. Because he sounded embarrassed asking for it.
His eyes dropped to the floor as he whispered, “I ain’t got nothing no more.
My ol’ man left me with nothing but debt and a credit card that’s almost maxed out. ”
I actually felt for the kid. He was just an eighteen-year-old whose father had dragged him into a world he wasn’t built for, and now he was left wondering where his next meal would come from.
I knew that feeling of desperation. Hell, I’d lived it for the better part of a year, but I was lucky. I had Brooke and Cyrus, but from the sounds of it, this kid didn’t have anyone.
“I can’t make any promises,” I replied honestly. “But I’ll put a good word in for ya.”
He nodded, but I could tell he was still concerned.
And he should be. If we didn’t find Chains, Grim would be back with more questions.
I gave him a single nod before stepping into the hallway.
I hoped that I’d just found our first real lead.
And maybe, just maybe, we’d be able to help this Benson kid before the Coyotes ruined another life.
Preacher and Grim were waiting in the hall when I closed the door behind me. Preacher gave me a hint of a smile as he announced, “We heard it all.”
I glanced back toward the door as I told him, “He gave us more than I thought he would.”
“Yes, he did, and he’ll be rewarded for it.” Preacher crossed his arms. “I’ve already put in a call to Memphis and the others. They’re checking the bar and the cabin to see if they can track this Chains asshole down.”
“Good. Hopefully this will be the end of it.”
Preacher gave me a brotherly clap against my shoulder as he said, “You did good, son.”
His words hit harder than I expected. I hadn’t been a brother long, but from day one, I’d hoped to find my way in the club. And while I was still treading water, today was a good start. I gave Prez a nod and said, “I’m glad I could help.”
“Me too.” He chuckled under his breath. “Now, go grab yourself a beer and catch your breath. It might be a bit before we need you again.”
“Sure thing.” I turned and started down the hall. “I’ll be in the bar if you need me.”
I walked into the bar, and just like earlier, the place was a ghost town.
Even the hang-arounds were keeping themselves scarce, and that was fine with me.
I needed a moment alone to clear my head.
I grabbed a cold one from the cooler, sat down at the front counter, and as I tilted the bottle back, my mind drifted to the night before.
We both climbed into bed with a million thoughts on our minds, but the second Brooke curled up against me, everything went quiet. There were no thoughts of the club or the Coyotes or Ryan. It was just me and the woman I’d spent years trying to forget and the steady rhythm of her breath.
She was everything. Hell, one look from her could level me. One kiss could pull me from the darkness, and her touch could leave me breathless. I’d memorized every freckle and every scar on her body years ago.
It was funny how time could steal so much from a man, but not that.
I hadn’t forgotten that she hated the silence after we’d made love. She’d always filled it by telling me about the places she’d been growing up or stories about the kids from the shelter.
Somehow, every one of them became important to me because they were important to her. Brooke had a way of carrying other people’s burdens like they were her own. Not as some martyr, but as someone who wanted to find a way to make their lives better, even if it meant sacrificing herself to do so.
That was Brooke. I’d never understand why she’d chosen to love me. I didn’t deserve her. Probably never would, but I’d spend the rest of my life trying to.
That thought had me reaching for my phone.
I’d been so caught up with the guys that I hadn’t had time to check in with her. It’d been a few hours, and I hadn’t gotten any messages from her. I’d hoped that meant that she’d gotten some rest. It wouldn’t be long before she had to go pick up Anslee, so I decided to check in with her.
Me:
Hey. How are things going?
Brooke:
Okay. I guess.
Ryan stopped by.
I knew the thing between her and Ryan was going to be hard to navigate.
Brooke had made her feelings clear, but that hadn’t stopped him from hoping that things would take a turn in his favor.
I couldn’t blame the guy. I knew what it was like to be around Brooke.
It was impossible not to love her. And while she wasn’t in love with him, she still loved and cared for him in a different way. That still was hard to deal with.
I had a feeling their conversation wasn’t easy for either one of them, so I asked:
Me:
You okay?
Three dots appeared.
Disappeared.
Then came back again. I took a long pull from my beer, trying to be patient until her message finally came through.
Brooke:
Yes, I’m okay.
It was just hard. I wasn’t expecting him. I was asleep on the sofa when
he came in. It surprised us both.
It was bad. I didn’t know what to say.
I wasn’t surprised that it was tough. She wanted to find the right words to say when there weren’t any.
There was no way to do any of this without hurting Ryan, and that was the last thing she wanted to do.
He was a good man. Hell, I'd only met him once, and I knew that. That somehow made all of this worse.
Me:
I’m sure you handled it the best you could.
Brooke:
Yeah, but he was pretty upset.
I was about to respond when Grim stuck his head in the bar and announced, “Conference room.”