19. Smitty #3
“What the hell is all this?” Memphis growled.
“I need everybody to step back. Don’t touch anything. There could be explosives in here.”
“No shit?”
“I’m serious, brother. We gotta tread careful here, or we might trigger a fallout none of us will walk away from.” Shep pulled out his phone as he said, “I’m calling in reinforcements.”
We notified Prez about what we’d found, and the next few hours came and went in a blur.
Shep called in a couple of guys from his old platoon who had experience dealing with explosives.
They helped us track down the devices Chains had planted and dismantled them.
Chains had managed to get close, too close, and it had us all on edge.
If he had gotten the chance, he wouldn’t have just taken out our president. He would’ve ended us all.
Once every device had been secured, Shep placed everything into a wooden crate and carried it to the workroom. He handed it over to Prez as he said, “We got them all.”
Prez shook his head. “How the fuck did he pull this off? He should’ve never been able to get this close without us seeing him.”
“I’ve got no idea,” Shep answered. “But I’ll find out and fix it. You have my word.”
“I’m gonna hold you to that.” Prez shook his head. “This could’ve been a fucking disaster.”
“We got lucky.” Creed turned his attention to me and said, “We owe Brooke a big one.”
“We certainly do.” Preacher started inside Grim’s workroom as he said, “It’s time to show this asshole who has the upper hand.”
The door didn’t close all the way, giving us a chance to hear as Prez’s boots hit the concrete floor. I stepped up to the window and wasn’t surprised to see that Chains was covered in bruises and blood. His eyes were almost swollen shut, but his smile remained.
Crazy fucker.
His eyes locked on Prez as he walked up to him and placed the crate on the floor in front of him. He glanced down, and his eyes lingered on the dismantled explosives.
And just like that, his sinister grin disappeared.
In its place was nothing but an angry glare that could've burned a hole through concrete. Prez took a step closer and brought his hand up to Chains’ throat, squeezing it as he said, “You could’ve played it smart. You could’ve steered clear. But now, you’re gonna pay.”
“You killed my family.”
“Damn right, I did,” Prez snarled. “No one fucks with Fury and lives to tell about it.”
“Fuck Fury.”
Prez squeezed hard. “I’m gonna enjoy putting you six feet under.”
He held his throat until Chains’ face turned dark red, and his body fell limp. Prez gave him a hard shove and grumbled curses under his breath as he started for the door. Before stepping out, he turned to Grim and said, “Make the fucker pay.”
“You can count on it.”
With that, Prez walked out of the room and slammed the door behind him. He stood there for a moment, collecting himself before turning his attention to me and the boys. “You boys can hit it. I’ll give you a call if something comes up.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, you boys have had a long one.” He motioned his head toward the two-way mirror. “And Grim’s gonna have a little fun with him, and then, I’ll have the prospects come in and do their thing.”
“Okay, but if something changes, I’m a phone call away.”
“I know.” I was just about to turn to leave when Prez said, “Be sure and thank Brooke for us… Without her help, we would still be looking for this asshole.”
“Will do.”
With that, I left Prez and Rusty there in the hallway, watching as Grim started preparing for his night with Chains. I had a feeling Prez was right. It might take some time for Grim to get him talking, but I’d heard the stories. I knew he’d get the job done.
The ride home should’ve cleared my head, but there weren’t enough miles between the clubhouse and Brooke’s place to shake the feeling I got when I saw that smile on Chains’ face.
That dude was evil to his core, and it ran a chill down my spine to think he was the one who’d set his sights on taking down the club.
I’d spent years thinking I didn’t have anything worth protecting.
Turned out, I had a club full of brothers I’d lay my life down for without question.
The same held true for Brooke and Anslee.
Hell, I’d rip out my own heart for either one of them, and that realization both humbled me and terrified me at the same time.
By the time I pulled into Brooke’s street, it was well after dark. I pulled in and parked, and knowing I was about to see my girls, I felt a little lighter as I headed up to the front door. I eased it open and called out, “Brooke?”
“I’m back here.”
I stepped inside, expecting to see Anslee playing on the living room floor and Brooke cleaning up after dinner. Instead, I found a room full of boxes. They lined the walls and were stacked on the tables along with newspaper and packing tape.
Picture frames had been taken down from the wall, leaving pale squares on the walls where they’d hung. “What the hell?”
Brooke looked up from where she was kneeling beside an open box, and she gave me a tired smile. “I’m moving out.”