by Marla Monroe
The rumble of bikes grew until the noise was deafening. Rage started his, signaling to the others to do the same, and the noise level went up several decibels. Terror felt the burn of adrenaline make its way through his veins. They needed to settle this once and for all, and fast. They still had the land situation to deal with, and he desperately needed to see Mia. He needed to touch her and know she was safe.
The Vipers rode into the middle of town and stopped, shutting down their rides and climbing off the back of the bikes. He and his brother exchanged puzzled looks before Rage took the lead and slowly rode in from the opposite direction until they were directly in front of the other club.
Terror cut his engine and climbed off to stand next to his brother. Hawk and Gunner did the same, giving them room but close enough to intervene should it become necessary. The rest of their men cut their engines but remained on their bikes. Terror singled out their president and vice president then moved on to their Sergeant-at-Arms. He was a wiry man with clear eyes and missing teeth. Terror would focus on him if things went to shit. He knew Hawk would go for their vice president, and Gunner was supposed to follow Hawk.
He’d keep a close eye on his brother, but doubted Rage would need his help. Of course the entire time they were sizing them up, the Vipers were doing the same with them. Maybe it would all be for nothing, but more often than not, if two clubs wanted the same piece of land, blood would be spilled to own it.
“Rage, I presume,” the Viper’s president said with an odd smile.
“You’ve got me at a disadvantage. Don’t believe I know you. Only Viper I ever met was Rowdy out in SoCal,” Rage said.
The other man nodded and crossed his arms. “I’m Dagger.” He pointed to his vice president. “This is Dog, my vice.”
Rage nodded. “This is my vice, Hawk.”
Dagger looked from Terror to his brother and back again. “You’re Terror, right?”
Terror nodded but didn’t say anything. The Viper’s president looked over at Hawk then back at him.
“Why aren’t you his vice?” he asked with a confused frown.
“Not my style. I tend to take issue with authority. If I was vice, we’d be fighting all the time.” Terror liked seeing other clubs try to figure out what that was supposed to mean. In truth, he functioned better as one of the guys who knew what his brother expected than he would have as his vice or even Sergeant-at-Arms.
“What’s this all about? You’ve had your men here looking around for weeks now. What do you want?” Rage cut through the bullshit and got to the meat of the matter. Terror was glad. He didn’t like wasting time.
Dagger’s face broke out into a slow grin. “I like you already, Rage. Talk around is that you’re bloodthirsty and tend to shoot first and ask questions after the funeral. I’m not seeing that so much.”
“Can’t always believe what you hear, but don’t mistake the fact that I didn’t put a bullet in any of your men as weakness. Truth be told, I’ve heard the same about the Vipers.”
Terror kept checking the guys in the back of Dagger’s group to be sure none of them seemed to be sneaking off or changing position. He risked a glance over at Loco, who had his tablet propped against the bike’s gas tank. He shook his head once. No sign of others on the road anywhere.
“Yeah, well, we’ve earned it, but the landscape is changing. This Internet shit and GPS crap is making it hard to stay a step ahead of things. By the time you get across the state line, they’ve already got enough information about you to outfit you in a designer suit complete with shoe size and condom preferences. Really! If you use a fucking card of some type to buy a box of condoms and a pack of smokes, everyone and their grandma can find out by this time tomorrow. Shit’s crazy,” the biker said, shaking his head.
“So what’s the price of raincoats got to do with us here in Oklahoma?” Rage asked in a bored voice.
Dagger grinned again. “Well, we wanted to talk to you about a bargain we’d like to strike.”
“What sort of bargain?” Rage asked, his eyes narrowing.
“Well, 412 from Tulsa goes past here just like a few other highways, but it’s monitored pretty well. Means that even if we’re just going to visit our sick granny over in Woodward or somewhere, we still get harassed and rolled. We want to avoid that if possible. Takes precious time away from our granny, if you know what I mean,” he said.
“What does that have to do with us?” Rage asked.
“With budget cuts and such going on everywhere, the smaller roads aren’t patrolled as well. Sometimes never. We figured that we could get to Granny’s just as fast if we, say, took an alternative route. Maybe 64 to 164. That would get us out of your area and keep us under the radar.”
Rage looked over at Terror then over to Hawk. This hadn’t been anything like what they’d expected. Plus, with what they’d learned about the importance of the club’s land in relation to the planned new highway, it put an entirely new spin on things. His brother smiled wide, showing lots of teeth.
“Tell you what. As long as no drugs, illegal guns, or an influx of used-up women show up in our town and our part of the state, we don’t care what goes down those highways and roads. If things change, our interest in the roads change,” Rage said.
Dagger just looked at him for a second. “No cut or toll demand? What’s going on? You’re not telling me something, here.”
Rage smiled. “We don’t need anything from you guys. Like you said, there’s no hiding anything anymore. It’s all out there for the taking if you know where to look for it. Used to be knowledge was power, but the new term is information. Information is power. I’d start embracing the new technology, guys, before it leaves you behind breathing its exhaust. As long as all you do is pass down those roads and don’t leave anything behind to let us know you were there, we have no problem with it. How you do your business and run your club is your business, but if it infringes on our club and how we run our business, we’ll have words.”
Dagger cocked his head at Rage, studying him for a second before straightening up and nodding, sticking out one hand toward his brother. Terror and Hawk both closed ranks as Rage shook hands then bumped fists with the other club’s president.
“You figured we were coming in hot, didn’t you?” Dagger said.
“Didn’t know what to expect. There’s been no talk of expanding your territory, and we’re not exactly in a prime location between Tulsa, Oklahoma City, and Wichita. If we were closer to Wichita, maybe, but not here.” Rage crossed his arms as the other man relaxed.
“I sent in men to see how you’d handle them. Didn’t want to lose any, but if it would save more down the road, it is what it is. Since you didn’t just eliminate them without finding out more, I figured you weren’t going to mow us down if we came in to talk,” Dagger said.
“Why didn’t you just call us up or send a note and ask for a powwow?” Rage asked with a shake of his head.
“I don’t much trust that the right note gets in the right hands when something big is at stake. I’m cautious that way.”
“Well, just to give you a little incentive to stick to the bargain,” Rage began, “there’s a new road going to bring a more direct connection between Kansas City and Amarillo. Looks like they plan to incorporate some of the older roads into it, but part of it will come right through our land. When it does, the rules will change. You either continue using the back roads or you take the old route. No riding through here with merchandise. Got it?”
Dagger frowned. “When the rules need to be changed, we can talk about it then. That’s at least five if not ten years down the line. I haven’t even seen any postings about it like they do when they get ready to build a road.”
“I’m down with that. Maybe I’ll be dead and gone by then so someone else will have to deal with your Viper ass,” Rage told him.
Terror couldn’t help but grin at that. Evidently Dagger was thinking the same thing, because the other man chuckled as he climbed on his bike.
&n
bsp; Terror watched as the other Vipers climbed on their bikes and turned around to head back the way they’d come. Once they were no longer in sight, though the sound of their bikes were still audible, Terror felt as if a weight had lifted from his shoulders. No doubt his brother felt the same way when Rage bent over and rested his hands on his knees. Standing up again, he grinned and everyone slapped each other on the shoulders and backs.
“Rage. We need to take care of the rest,” he reminded his brother.
“Yeah.” He turned to Loco. “Meet us at the sheriff’s office with the folders. Our work isn’t finished yet.”
“Want us to go with you?” Hawk asked.
“We’ll need you, but Gunner and the others should go back to the club and keep things locked down until we let you know everything is clear. I’ll leave it up to you how to spread out the men for maximum coverage. We’ll meet everyone in fifteen minutes.” Rage nodded at Terror to follow as he climbed on his bike and started it up.
Terror rode next to Rage until they pulled up outside of Mia’s apartment. He had a vague idea what his brother was doing, but no idea how they were going to accomplish it. When Scooby had called him to tell him about Mia, he’d nearly lost it. Once he’d settled down, he’d texted them to take the man who’d tried to kidnap her to her apartment and tie his ass up there until they could get to him. Now he wondered what Rage planned to do with the bastard. Personally, he would be happy to dig a deep hole and when he fell into it with a nice big hole in his head, fill it in so that no one accidently fell in it again.
He followed Rage up the stairs and waited as his brother picked the lock to let themselves inside. Antoine Gaetti was still right where Bear had left him. He lay hogtied on his side with tape over his mouth. Both of the man’s eyes were swollen from the beating Bear had given him. It looked like his nose might have been broken as well. Terror couldn’t help but grin at the damage. After what he’d seen in Loco’s folder, he wished he could have five minutes alone with the bastard.
“Hey there, Tony. Looks like you screwed up—again. Don’t worry. It won’t happen again. We’ll make sure of that,” Terror said, kicking the man’s knee with his steel-toed boots. The fucker screamed behind the tape, his jowls blowing up with the effort to get the air out.
“Now, now, Terror. Let’s not tease the man. If you’re planning to hurt him, do it right.” Rage stomped on the same knee, earning them another glimpse of how a puffer fish looks when it puffs up with air.
They waited until he’d caught his breath before Terror jerked the tape off one side of the man’s mouth. He needed to be able to talk now.
“Fucking bastards. I’ll kill you for this,” he was saying.
“Tony, Tony. Don’t go making threats you’ll never get the chance to keep. You know you’re a dead man, right? Well, in case you didn’t know, there are degrees of death. We haven’t decided what degree you’ll get yet,” Rage said with a wide, toothy grin.
“What the fuck do you want?” he finally asked in a whine.
“What is so important about that fucking key you tortured and killed Glenn Peretti over?” Terror asked in a calm voice.
“Nothing. He stole it from me and I want it back.”
“Wrong answer, Tony,” Rage said and kicked him in the knee again.
When he started to scream, Terror shoved the pillow from the chair over his face until he’d settled down again. Then he pulled it off and stared down at him, shaking his head.
“I think you were about to tell us what that key is to that has you so worked up.” Rage looked down at his boot and picked it up a few times. Gaetti actually cringed when he did it.
“It—it goes to an underground bunker where we’ve been stockpiling guns and ammunition,” he said almost on a sob.
Terror didn’t think that was the entire truth, but it was enough to get them started. He waited to see if Rage was going to play any more with the man or not. Despite what their reputation said, they didn’t condone torture. Hell, they didn’t like killing and avoided it at all costs, but they didn’t back down from a challenge either.
“Tape him up again and let’s pack up whatever there is she’ll need,” Rage said.
Terror reapplied the tape and double checked the bindings to be sure he couldn’t Houdini himself out of it while they were busy. Then he joined his brother in packing up Mia’s life, only this time there were a few more boxes than what had been reported in the police report about the destruction of their home back in Chicago.
“Bout ready to go?” Rage asked.
Terror nodded. “Yeah. Look what I found. Think she’d want it at the hospital with her?” He picked up a silver picture frame that held a photo of Mia with a good-looking man who had to have been her husband. She looked so much younger in it, and there was no scar on her face in it either.
“Yeah. She probably would. Bring it with us and the guys can come get the boxes afterwards.”
They walked over to where Gaetti lay on his side cursing them with every breath he took. Terror had to give him just one more kick, but this time he aimed for the nuts.
“Did you know that Glenn, the man you killed, was your son, Tony?” Terror said with a smile. “Seems that you had one too many affairs without paying attention to what time of the month it was and knocked one of them up. Do you remember a Katherine Peretti? Well, she was Glenn’s real mom. She died giving birth to him, and his father remarried when Glenn was eight years old. Small world, isn’t it, Tony?”
As soon as Terror saw the comprehension appear in the man’s eyes, he walked away, leaving him on the floor wallowing in a pain much deeper than a fucked-up knee. The deputies would pick him up soon enough. Then he’d be talking to the feds, or maybe Homeland Security. Loco had managed to dig up a lot of crap on the Chicago Mafia. Tony’s wife wasn’t able to have children, which had driven him insane because he couldn’t pass his part of the family business down to his son. Finding out that he’d always had one not eight blocks away had to hurt.
One more stop and they could go to Mia. They wanted to be sure that there was nothing else that might lead to her being hurt because of them. Once they had it all tied up, they could assure themselves that she was going to be okay and settle all the uncertainty she’d had about her husband, Gaetti, and them. If they couldn’t give her anything else, they would give her peace.
Chapter Fifteen
It was nearly eight p.m. before the entire mess was finally sorted out. After wading through more convoluted turns and at least a half dozen blind alleys , the truth finally won out. They sent Hawk with the deputies to Mia’s old apartment where they would pick up Tony and hold him for extradition to Chicago or the feds, whoever showed up first. Hawk would call in one of the guys back at the club to bring a truck to transport Mia’s things to the club until she was well enough to make some decisions.
Rage had wanted to skip all the crap to begin with and see about her, but her safety came before his nerves. They had to flush out the toilet to be sure nothing overflowed on her again. With the Vipers off the radar as far as dangers went, he’d been better able to deal with the rest of their headache. One of the little fuckers was Deputy Teddy Gowen. He’d dug around in her files until he’d alerted Gaetti of her location and that someone was reading over the old file concerning her husband’s death. His obsession with her had started out as romance in a sick sort of way but had ended in greed.
Teddy had realized that she was the key to something worth a hell of a lot of money to a crime boss. If he could convince her that he loved her and she either married him or at least dated him, he could search for the missing key without her even realizing what he was doing. If he never found it, it was no big loss—she was a prize all on her own. It had taken all of his restraint and Terror’s tight hold on his shoulder to keep him from doing some damage to the little bastard. As it was, he screwed up when he admitted that he’d not only put the word out to the Vipers that The Howling Death MC planned to kick their asses, but t
hat he had been the one to kill the man who’d attacked Mia at the bar that first time. He’d begun to think of her as his by then, so when she’d been hurt, Teddy had lost it. He was so controlling that to him, he was the only one who could touch her. If she needed to be punished it would be up to him and no stranger would touch what he considered to be his.
Bear met them at the elevator. “She’s got company, guys.”
Rage frowned. “Who?” If Bear was there telling them so that they didn’t walk in on it, he had a reason.
“Hoss from the bar,” he said and stepped back.
“You fucking let a Viper go in with her alone?” Rage yelled as Terror took off running down the hall.
“It’s not like that, boss. Let me explain,” Bear was saying as he followed them down the hall.
“No running in the hall!” a nurse yelled out as they passed. “I’m going to call security!”
“That might not be a bad idea,” Bear told her as he passed by.
Rage slammed open the door to Mia’s room so that it hit the wall and bounced back. Sitting on the edge of her bed was the big-ass Viper who’d been bartending at The Wagon Master Bar and Grill for the last few weeks. Mia was smiling at the bastard.
“Get away from her. What the hell are you still doing here on The Howling Death’s territory?” Rage demanded as he stalked toward the other man.
“Rage. Wait,” Bear started to say. Terror turned and glared at him while Rage advanced on Hoss.
“Rage. Please listen to me. He’s not who you think he is,” Mia was saying.
Hoss held up both hands palms out. “Hold on, man. I’m not going to hurt your woman. I came to be sure she was okay. I felt guilty that she got hurt in the first place.”
“Vipers don’t have permission to be here. Haven’t you talked to your pres? Get the fuck out of here before I forget that there even is an understanding.” Rage opened and closed his fists in an attempt not to beat the shit out of the guy standing next to his woman’s bed.
“No problem. I’m leaving.” Hoss edged down the bed toward the wall.