by Wilder, L.
He shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine.”
Fearing the worst if we just barged in, I reached up and pounded on the door. Seconds later, it flew open and revealed an older man wearing a red bandana and a leather vest much like the one the men in Satan’s Fury wore, but not nearly as intricate. He had a long gray beard, and his wrinkled eyes narrowed as he gave Danny a quick-once over. Clearly not happy to have a uniformed officer knocking at their door, he growled, “What in the hell do you two want?”
“I’m Landry Dawson from the Department of Child Services, and this is Officer Michaels,” I answered. “We’re looking for Chris Coburn and his daughter, Katie. We were told they might be here.”
“Hmph ... You were told wrong. They ain’t here.”
“Would you mind if we came in and had a look around?”
He crossed his arms with an intimidating glare as he growled, “You got a warrant?”
“No, sir. We were hoping we wouldn’t need one,” I answered calmly. “Maybe we could just have a quick chat with Chris’s brother, Kory. He’s the president of the Rebels, right?”
“Yeah, but I can tell you now ... he ain’t gonna let no pig in here. Not for nothing.”
“Maybe, maybe not, but we won’t know unless you go let him know we’re here. Besides, if we leave now, we’re just gonna get that court order, and instead of one cop being here, there’ll be twenty or more. The choice is yours.”
“Goddammit.” He flung the door open wider and motioned us forward. As we stepped inside, he ordered, “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”
With that, he turned and walked out of the room, leaving Danny and me to wait for his return. I took a quick glance around the bar, noting how dim it was. It seemed eerie for it to be so dark with the sun shining so bright outside, but the two small windows weren’t letting in much light. There were a couple of neon signs hanging on the wall, each looked like they’d been there for years on end, and the ceiling fans were wobbling like they could fall at any second. The red leather on the stools were worn and ripped, and the place smelled of dust and feet. I was still soaking everything in when six burly bikers stepped into the room, glaring at us both as they scattered around us. These men seemed to be much older than Clay’s brothers, graying and weathered, not by the natural course of life, but most likely from years of hard living and substance abuse, and there was something about each of them that screamed danger—which didn’t make my nervous jitters any better. Danny leaned over and whispered, “You see Coburn anywhere?”
“No, but that doesn’t mean he’s not here.”
I’d just turned my attention back to the other men in the room when I heard a loud thud followed by Danny dropping to the floor. Before I could register what was happening, everything went black.
Hyde
Patience had never come easily to me, especially when I was struggling to keep my anger under wraps. After seeing the way that Strayhorn motherfucker had put his hands on not only his wife, but his kids, too, I was ready to rip his fucking head off. It only enraged me more to think about him threatening Landry and breaking into her apartment, rummaging through all her stuff. I couldn’t wait to give him a taste of his own fucking medicine. Thankfully, I wouldn’t have to wait long. After about thirty minutes of sitting out in the truck, the piece of shit came back out of the house and got in his truck. I waited for him as he backed out, and when he started to drive away, I followed.
It wasn’t long before he made his first stop. I pulled over a few yards back, watching as he got out of his truck and went over to some guy standing on the curb. They spoke for a moment, then the guy reached into his pocket and pulled out a bag of something. They made a quick exchange, and then Strayhorn quickly turned and headed back to his truck, speeding off to his next destination. Just when I thought the guy couldn’t be a bigger piece of shit, I followed him up to a twenty-four-hour strip club. The place was a total dive with prostitutes lingering by the front door. With so many people around, I was worried that I might not be able to get to him without being seen, so I was relieved when he decided to park in the rear of the building, away from any onlookers. His need to keep his location hidden from his wife gave me the opportunity I was hoping for.
Once he was parked, I whipped in behind him. Leaving Duchess locked inside, I jumped out of the truck just as he’d gotten out of his. He was so busy shoving his coke or meth or whatever-the-fuck into his back pocket, he hadn’t noticed that I’d come up on him. I gave him a hard shove as I snarled, “Going somewhere, Strayhorn?”
“Who the fuck are you?”
“Who I am isn’t important.” I reached up and grabbed him by the collar, shoving him against his truck. “But what I’ve gotta say is very, very important.”
“I don’t give a damn about what you gotta say, so you best back the fuck off, asshole.”
“Don’t wanna listen? That’s fine. We’ll go about this another way.”
I reared my fist back and slammed it into the side of his face, jarring his head back against the door of his truck. Before he had a chance to recover, I plowed into him again and again. Losing his footing, he stumbled to the ground. I was about to go at him again, when he lifted his leg and kicked me backwards, forcing me to flail to my back. Next thing I knew, the guy was on top of me, punching me in the face and head. I could hear Duchess going crazy in the truck. I knew she didn’t like what Strayhorn was doing to me, but I wasn’t done with him yet. After he got in a couple of good blows, I managed to pull my arm free and rammed my fist into his throat, leaving him gasping for air. When he started to falter back, I heaved him off me, and with him still trying to catch his breath, I started in on him again. “You have a thing for preying on the weak ... your wife ... your kids. You think that makes you a real man?”
He grumbled and gargled, but couldn’t manage a clear answer. “It doesn’t! It makes you nothing. You’re worse than fucking nothing, you piece of shit!”
I kept pounding into him until I struck the side of his face just right, and a shooting pain radiated through my hand. I knew right away I’d broken at least one knuckle, if not two. Pissed that I couldn’t keep going, I wrapped the fingers of my good hand around his throat, and as I tightened them, I growled, “You lay one finger on those kids or your wife again, and I’ll be back to finish you off. You got that?”
When he didn’t answer, I tightened my grip and shouted, “You got that?”
With his eyes almost swollen shut and blood covering his face, he managed to nod. I was still choking him when I ordered, “If you have any sense at all, you’ll pack up your shit and get the fuck out of town.”
With that, I stood up and got back in the truck. Duchess quickly made her way over to me, licking my face and wagging her tail. It was clear that she was pleased to have me back safe and sound. I gave her a quick rub across the head, then ordered, “All right. I’m fine. Get back in your spot.”
Like always, she quickly followed my command. As soon as she was settled, I put the truck in gear and backed out of the parking lot. I had every intention of heading straight to the garage, but then my hand started throbbing. I studied the swelling and bruising around my knuckles and knew I needed to get it checked out. Hoping that Mack would be able to do something with it, I changed direction and drove back to the clubhouse. I tried to make a fist with my aching hand but couldn’t, leaving no doubt that I’d broken something. I silently cursed myself for getting carried away. While I might’ve taken things too far with Strayhorn, I had no doubt that our encounter wouldn’t be something he’d soon forget.
When I pulled through the gate, it was after ten, so I was surprised to see that so many of the guys were at the clubhouse instead of the garage. Curious if something was up, I quickly parked, then Duchess and I rushed inside. The guys were gathered in the bar, watching the news and talking amongst themselves, and for some reason, I had an uneasy feeling as I made my way over to Rider. His brows furrowed as he looked at the cuts and scratches
on my face and hands. “What the fuck happened to you?”
“Nothing. Just had a little conversation with Strayhorn.” Before he could respond, I glanced around the room and asked, “What’s going on?”
“You get that Amber alert on your phone?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t really have a chance to look at it, why?”
He cocked his eyebrow as he suggested, “Best look at it again.”
I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone. I did a quick search, and once I spotted the Amber alert, I opened it. Seconds later, a girl’s face popped up on my screen. There was something familiar about her, but I couldn’t place her. I quickly scanned the page, and when I saw the picture of her father, it hit me. We’d seen them both the night before when we’d hacked into Landry’s files. “Holy shit.”
“Yeah, it’s fucked up.” Rider shook his head. “You reckon he was the one who broke in Landry’s apartment?”
“What makes you ask that?”
“It makes sense.” Rider shrugged. “If he’d gone through her files, I bet he would’ve been able to find the address of where she was staying.”
“Damn.” I took a quick glance around the room, and when I didn’t see her, I asked, “Where’s Landry?”
“About that …” He grimaced. “You’re not gonna like what I’m about to tell ya.”
I stood there, listening in utter disbelief as he told me about Darcy’s brothers coming to the club and proposing that Coburn might’ve taken his daughter to a local MC clubhouse. That disbelief quickly turned into horror when he explained that Landry had gone there with her cop friend to see if they were right about their suspicions. A mix of anger and concern washed over me as I growled, “Who the fuck are the Fallen Rebels?”
“An older MC. They’re a smaller club … been around for decades, but never hear much about them.”
“So, are these guys dangerous?”
“I guess they could be.” He gave me a slight shrug. “It’d depend on the situation. Regardless, Landry has the cop with her. She should be fine.”
“Yeah, like that fucking cop is gonna be any help at all.” I let out a frustrated breath. “You and I both know he won’t be able to do shit if those guys decide to take matters into their own hands.”
“I tried to talk her out of it, but Landry had her mind set on going over there.”
I wanted to give him hell, tell him that he should’ve tried fucking harder to talk Landry out of it, but I was in no position to lose my temper with Rider, or any of the brothers for that matter. I was just a fucking prospect, and if I didn’t want to lose my chance at earning my patch, I had to bite my tongue. Unfortunately, that only made it harder to keep from completely losing my shit. My mind started racing, and with everything that had went down that morning with Strayhorn, I was hanging by a thread. As I tapped in her number, I asked, “How long has she been gone?”
“An hour ... maybe two.”
“Fuck!”
The phone rang and rang, but Landry never answered. I sent her a slew of texts and tried calling several more times, but no response. As I stared down at the unanswered messages, I completely lost it. “She’s not answering. It’s not like her not to answer!”
Consumed with anger and concern, I lifted my already wounded hand and slammed it into the brick wall. An intense pain shot through me like a dagger, and I immediately regretted my impulsive reaction. A stream of curses flew from my mouth as I looked down at my bleeding hand. Rider shook his head and said, “What the fuck, Clay? Breaking your fucking hand isn’t gonna help a goddamn thing!”
“Don’t you get it? Something’s wrong. I can feel it in my gut.”
The words had barely left my mouth when Gus came up behind me and said, “Easy there, Hyde. Rein it in.”
“How am I supposed to do that?” I let out a breath and tried to pull it together. “It’s been over an hour since she headed over there, and now she’s not answering her phone!”
“First of all, we don’t even know if she’s still there. For all we know, she’s back at her office or down at the station with the cop.”
“And if she isn’t?” I pushed. “What if they’ve done something to her? What if that Coburn asshole hurt her?”
“No sense jumping to conclusions, Hyde. Let’s gather the facts, and then we’ll see where we stand.” Gus turned to Riggs. “Gonna need you to track Landry’s phone and get me her location.”
“You got it.” I watched as Riggs rushed out of the room, only to return moments later with his laptop. He placed it down on the counter. We all gathered around and watched him work his magic. After just a few seconds, he looked over to Gus with a blank expression. “Looks like she’s still there.”
“Dammit.”
The room fell silent, and I knew the brothers were thinking the same thing I was. Something wasn’t right. I turned to Gus, waiting for his next move. He ran his hand over his thick beard as he turned to speak to Moose, the club’s VP. They spoke quietly amongst themselves for a moment, then Gus reached into his pocket and took out his burner cell. After tapping in a number, he put the call on speaker where we could all listen to it ring. When a man finally answered, Gus said, “Buck ... This is Gus.”
“Hey, brother. It’s been a while.”
“It has.” Gus paused for a moment, then continued, “We’ve got a problem, and I was hoping you might be able to help me out.”
“All right.” There was no missing the concern in his voice when he asked, “What’s the problem?”
“Your brother, Chris. He there with you?”
“Yeah. Got here last night.”
“He got the kid with him?”
“As a matter of fact, he does.” Buck’s previously friendly tone changed inquisitive as he asked, “What concern you got with him and his kid?”
“Besides the fact that he kidnapped her ... I got a problem that the woman who came to your club looking for her this morning is one of ours.”
“The lady with the cop?” he asked, sounding surprised.
“That’d be her.”
“Fuck, man. I didn’t know.”
“Didn’t figure you did. Is she still there?”
“Yeah, they both are.” After a brief pause, Buck continued, “Got ’em locked up out back.”
Gus wasted no time getting to the point. “Well, if you don’t want to go toe to toe with Satan’s Fury, I’d strongly suggest you let ’em go.”
“You know I don’t want that shit, brother. Never had no qualms with you boys, and I certainly don’t wanna start nothing now, especially over my goddamn brother. The guy’s a fuckup. Always has been. Not gonna let his shit blowback on my club, so come on and get ’em ... all of ’em, including my piece-of-shit brother.”
“We’re on our way.”
After Gus hung up the phone, he turned and looked at me with one of those expressions that could only come from Gus. I knew exactly what was on his mind as he sat there … silently studying me. He wanted me to see that it doesn’t always take a fist or a gun to solve problems in our world. He’d kept a level head, hadn’t even raised his fucking voice and still managed to solve the problem without going to war. But then again, that was Gus—cool, calm, and collected. He reached over and gave my shoulder a pat as he told me, “All right, Hyde. Go get some ice for that hand, then let’s go get your girl.”
Minutes later, I was sitting in the truck with a bag of ice on my hand, and Rider and I were following the others over to the Fallen Rebels’ clubhouse. We hadn’t been riding long when Rider started mumbling to himself. “Hmm ... Hyde. I would’ve never thought of it, but yeah, I’d say it fits.”
“What?”
“Your road name,” he answered like it was no big deal. “I’m guessing it has something to do with Jekyll and Hyde, right?”
I nodded. “Yeah, Gus used the reference once or twice.”
“Well, there ya have it,” Rider announced proudly. “You’ve got yourself an official road name whi
ch makes you one step closer to earning your Fury patch.”
Any other time, those words would’ve meant the world to me, but at that moment, I was too focused on Landry to let it sink in. I needed to get to her, to see that she was really okay, and then, and only then, could I appreciate the fact that I’d finally earned my very own road name. When we pulled up to the Fallen Rebels’ clubhouse, I spotted Landry’s car parked across the street next to a squad car. We all pulled in next to them, and as we got out and walked across the street, I was surprised to see that their clubhouse was just a rundown old bar. Seeing the state of the place made it easier to understand why the president of the club hadn’t wanted to throw down with Satan’s Fury. It wouldn’t have taken much to wipe the entire place out.
We all followed Gus and Moose to the door, and when we all walked in, the Rebels were all sitting there waiting for us. The Rebels were all older, at least in their sixties, and the years hadn’t done any of them much kindness. One of the bigger men of the group made his way over to Gus and extended his hand. “Good to see ya, Gus... Moose. Wish it was under better circumstances.”
Gus nodded as he shook his hand. “Looks like you and the boys have been doing well.”
“We’re making it all right.” He shook his head as he looked to the ground. “Sure am sorry about all this, Gus. I knew it was bad news when he showed up here with Katie. Probably would’ve sent him away from the start, but I got a soft spot for the girl.”
“I understand, Buck. You were looking out for your family.”
“Yeah ... Looks like I saved his sorry ass one time too many.” Buck turned to one of the others. “It’s time to bring him in.”
The guy nodded, then walked out of the room, only to return seconds later with Buck’s brother, Chris. The blood drained from Chris’s face, leaving him looking like he’d seen a fucking ghost when he said, “What the fuck do you motherfuckers want?”