We finish lunch and Brax decides he wants dessert, heading up to the counter. A couple minutes later, Tank nods to get my attention on a beat up Suzuki choking into the Lively Lady lot. The rider's wearing a Mongol Horde cut, so he must be our man.
Tank and I leave our trash on the table. "Come on, brother. No time for a sweet tooth." Brax bitches a little, but follows us out the door. We all jog across and come up behind the rider as he's opening the back door of the strip club. Brax puts a shoulder to the bastard's back and we push in behind him.
"What the fuck?" The guy turns, ready to fight, but his eyes widen and he goes still when he spots the barrel of Tank's .45 pointed at his belly. "What do you want?"
Brax turns around, tapping his own shoulder. "You see that patch?"
The guy looks from one of us to the other, and he's already sweating. "Yeah."
"Almost six months ago, two fuckers wearing MH colors walked into a truck stop diner in Tennessee, way outside your territory, and inside ours."
"I don't know nothing about that, man." The guy takes a step back, nervous as hell.
I pull my knife off my belt and make a show of cleaning my fingernails with it. "They call you Flank, that right?" The guy's eyes nearly bug out of his head as he nods.
"So Chick and Slug—what did they do? Go rogue?" Tank grins. "I get that, man. Ol' Chalk here, he goes of the rez once in a while. Ain't no tellin' how much blood gets spilled when he does."
Flank shakes his head, his hands up so we don't think he's going for a weapon. "Look, man, I got word about a big exchange there. Had some pretty heavy pressure for us to step in. Marco wouldn't have it, though, said he didn't want a war. Slug and Chick, they took off on their own. When Marco found out, they paid in blood and he sent proof to your club."
"Oh yeah? What kinda proof he send?" Tank sounds like we're just having a casual chat. I have to admire that.
"A small package. Video of the beat down and a finger from each of them."
From the way Tank's eyes harden, I know he never saw any such proof, and as VP, he should have been the first to know after Vince. How come that never got shared?
I speak up. "So where did that pressure to step in come from?"
Flank pales. "I can't say."
I'm done fucking around being nice. I jump forward and grab him, using my thumb to dig in under his collar bone. The tip of my knife pierces the skin of his neck. "You better fucking say, before your blood spills. Who the fuck wanted you there? And who passed the info?"
He grunts with pain, but refuses. "No way, man. I ain't saying shit."
A shot rings out and Flank suddenly slumps against me with a sharp cry. "You better fucking talk fast, before you bleed the fuck out." Tank looks like he just invited the guy for coffee.
Blood immediately soaks the leg of Flank's jeans. "I can't, man, he'll kill me."
"Motherfucker, I will kill you. Next one goes in your belly. You know how bad a gut shot hurts? It's a bad death. And we're sitting right here until you feel every fucking bit of it." That grin makes Tank look like the blood thirsty bastard he is. He pulls a chair off a nearby table and sits. "We got all day."
"Shit!" Flank trembles and if I wasn't still holding him up, he would collapse. That leg is hurting him bad. "I tell you, you let me call for help."
"Deal."
"It was Vince, man. He said if we jumped that exchange, he'd take the cash from the buyer and we got the goods from the seller." He leans harder against my grip as the blood loss starts to hit him.
Another shot rings out, and wet shit sprays over my face and hands, while Flank goes completely limp. There's a dark little hole right between his eyes, and the back of his head is gone. The smell of gunpowder gets stronger.
"Fuck, you could have let me get clear first. Son-of-a-bitch, now I gotta wash up." I take off in search of a sink and a bottle of bleach. I find what I need behind the bar, and start scrubbing the shit off. Once I'm done, I dump the rest of the bleach down the drain to destroy any DNA evidence that might still be there.
Brax comes up behind me with a bottle of drain cleaner. "Here, man, dump this shit in there too."
Soon as I'm clean, we bounce, leaving Flank's body where it fell. Minutes later, we're back at our bikes, ready to head home. Shit went smoother than expected.
My phone buzzes as I swing my leg over my bike. It's a text from Roadkill for a call back. "Hey, hold up. Need to make a call."
Tank and Brax nod, and Brax heads inside to get the dessert he missed earlier.
"'Sup, Roadkill?"
"I know you're working, man, but ya'll need to make tracks home." His voice is low, almost a whisper.
"What's wrong? Is Abigail okay? Fianna?" Panic shoots through me with no warning. I knew I shouldn't have left my girls.
"They're both safe for now, but you need to get here. Tank and Brax, too. I gotta go, man. Talk later. Get the fuck here." He ends the call, not giving me a chance to ask any of the billion questions racing through my head.
"Tank, we have to get home. Something's wrong."
"What's up?"
"That was Roadkill, said for us to get the fuck home. Acted like he couldn't talk." I keep replaying the conversation in my head.
Tank frowns. "I'll grab Brax. Fucker don't need dessert anyway."
We take off, and it takes us a good five hours to get back to the clubhouse. We're lucky the ride goes without a problem. When we arrive it’s quiet and dark, everybody long since in bed. Exhaustion sets in, but I push it away and walk in with my .45 in my hand, ready for whatever trouble waited.
Nothing. Not a soul waited, no hint of why Roadkill warned us to come home fast. I shrug, and head in to check on my girls and hopefully crash for a little while before we have to handle the mess with Vince. No sense in waking everyone up at this hour.
Tired as fuck, I strip to my boxers, leaving my weapons handy on the dresser. If there really is trouble waiting to happen, I want to be armed for it. Seeing Fianna’s shapely figure sound asleep in my bed makes me realize how much I like having her around. If she’d only stay. With that thought I crawl under the covers. We’re not alone; looks like Fianna has company, Abigail is here, too.
I sit up, looking down at the two of them. The light coming from the window hits both of their faces. They're both peaceful in their sleep, and Abigail holds Fianna’s hand while curled in a ball as close as she can get.
Panic starts to settle in my chest. I absently rub it, trying to ease it away. I don’t know what I did to deserve these two angels but damn, I hope I don’t fuck it up. However crazy it may be, the thought of the three of us being a family is the last thing I think about before drifting off to sleep.
A couple hours later, I wake up to Abigail poking me in the face. I lay there pretending I’m still asleep. I hear Fianna softly tell Abigail to let me sleep.
“But I don’t wanna. I miss Chalk. He needs to be awake now," she whines in a hushed voice.
She leans back down, and I pop open my eyes, and grab her to tickle her. She squeals in laughter, but then whimpers and flinches.
I abruptly let go, and sit straight up. “What the fuck, Abigail? Why’d you just act like that?”
She looks to Fianna for help, and I’m getting pissy that neither of them are speaking fast enough.
“One of you better start fucking talking. Right. Now.” I know it's harsh, but I need to know right now. I’m wide awake now, my patience running thin with the two of them, and their games. I reach for Abigail and gently sit her back in my lap, thankfully the covers are pulled up.
Chapter Ten
Chalk:
My blood boils. I finally get Abigail to tell me something and I am so furious I have to get her away from me before I lose my shit, and do something I’ll regret.
“Fianna, get your ass over here and take her. You both are to sit here, and don’t fucking move until I get back. Do you understand?”
She got up when I started yelling at the both of them. The
fear in both of their eyes cut me deep, but it didn’t compare to the feeling of me wanting to kill whoever left a mark on Abigail.
The moment Abigail whispered Roadkill’s name, I couldn’t believe it. She won’t say anything else though, she refuses. Tears run down Fianna's face, as she shakes her head, refusing to say anything, too.
What on earth are they both afraid of? What the fuck happened while I was gone? Goddamn it, Roadkill was supposed to watch out for them. That makes me think. He called, telling us to get back, and then with Abigail saying his name, I know I need to go have a little chat with him.
I grab my jeans and my .38 and pull the slide back. Fianna inhales sharply, like it scares her, but I can't let that stop me. I turn towards her, shaking my head.
“Chalk, please. Don’t do anything you’ll regret.”
“Sugar, I’ve done a lot of things I regret. But this ain’t gonna be one of them. Now stay here, I mean it.”
I realize in that instant how true that is, I’d do anything for Abigail. She’s done something to me. I shouldn’t feel things after what evil dished out in my past. The things I did in Iraq would send a saint straight to hell, and it killed every bit of good that remained in me. Not to mention what I’ve done since I’ve been out. But somehow, now I have Abigail. I don’t deserve her love. But I sure as hell won’t let it go either.
I pull Fianna into my embrace and give her a kiss as though I may not see her again. And part of me worries that I might not, but I don’t want to think about it. I won’t go down without a fight.
I reach back for my phone and send off a text to Roadkill. “Meet, now. Backyard.”
He texts back, "Roger that."
“Abigail, be good for me. Listen to Fianna. I’ll be back soon.” I try to ease the worry that’s clear on her face.
“Pinky promise?” She pouts, but not her normal sassy pout. Her bottom lip is out, trembling. Eyes glossy with unshed tears, she’s trying to be so strong. Fuck me. I can’t break her pinky promise. And she knows it. She reaches out for me.
I curl my pinky around hers. “Yes, baby girl. Pinky promise.” I lean closer and give her head a light rub before I head for the door. Turning to look back, I say it one more time. “I’ll be back, don’t forget. Stay here, no matter what.”
I leave the room, and although I trust Fianna to know not to leave, I lock the door from the outside anyways. The safer the better. Abigail is a risk, if she got away from Fianna, who knows what’d she do.
I walk silently out to the backyard. Roadkill is already there. Seeing him, makes me angry all over again. Fuming, I take a swing and hit him in the jaw.
“What the fuck, man. Wait, let me explain.” He yells, rubbing his jaw, which is already red and swelling up.
“Why the fuck should, I? You got thirty seconds before I take your ass the fuck out.” I press my .38 against his chest.
Sweat forms on his forehead. He inhales. And starts explaining everything. “It was Vince, man. He came out and talked to Fianna like she was a fucking sweetcake. Baby girl stood up to him. Stupid kid, but damn she woulda made you proud. Brave as fuck. He slapped her across the face, then jerked her around by her bad arm. And still, she was giving him what-for. He’s gone too, far, Chalk.”
“And you just fuckin’ watched!”
“No, man. I tried to step in. He told me to shut up or get out. I figured it was better I be here than him been alone with them. No telling what he would have done to them. I called you as soon as I could get away a minute.” He explains, the words all rushing out. I lower the gun, and see him slump against the barn.
Cold rage settles into my gut in a way I've never experienced before. I will fucking kill Vince. Moving quiet, I go inside and down the hall to his room. The door is locked, of course, but it doesn't even slow me down. My boot takes care of that problem easily.
Vince wakes as the door crashes open, and he grabs the bitch in his bed and holds her before him as a shield. The woman screams as he holds her by the hair and stands, still keeping her in front of him.
My .38 zeroes in on his forehead, but I won't shoot. No, that wouldn't hurt him enough. After what he did to Abigail and Fianna, I want to cut him to bits with a dull knife. I want him to bleed and hurt and cry. A bullet is too fast for a man like him.
He grins at me over the woman's shoulder. "What the fuck you think you're going to do, Chalk? You know this is a death sentence. I'll kill your stupid ass."
I smile back at him. "You think so? Then come out from behind the bitch. Show me. Because from where I'm standing, you're brave enough to beat on a defenseless child, but when a man faces you, you hide behind a female."
His face reddens in fury. "I should have made sure that little bitch died that day. We get a monthly fee as long as she lives. But when she dies, we get all those millions." He laughs. "If fucking Tank hadn't fell under her spell that day, she would be dead and gone, and we would be fucking rolling in money."
My anger turns into something else. My muscles explode to carry me across the room, and I push the woman aside to grab Vince's throat. Plaster breaks loose and falls when his back impacts the wall. Stunned, he tries to push off, but I don't give him a chance.
I slam my fist into his nose, and bone crunches under the blow, blood spurting. My other hand crushes his throat.
"Chalk!" Tank's voice barely penetrates the sound of my blood pounding in my ears. "Not like this. We have to do it right. Church. Now. You bring him, I'll get the others."
He's right. I know it. But still, I want nothing more than to feel Vince's throat collapse under my grip, to watch the life seep from his eyes. Taking a life is easy for me. I've done a lot of it.
Rather than follow the impulse, I spin him around, grab one arm and twist it high between his shoulders, right to the breaking point. Using that leverage, I marched him naked from his room, out through the living room and into the meeting room.
Roadkill was already there, waiting, and when I slammed Vince down into a chair, the prospect was ready with handcuffs. We secured our Pres to the chair, and watched while blood ran down his face from his ruined nose and he fumed, helpless.
The rest of the Death Jokers set some kind of record getting to church, and within fifteen minutes, Tank called the meeting to order. "Brothers, we're gathered here to pass judgement on our President, Vince Monroe, for treason, among other crimes against the brotherhood."
The members sat in stunned silence, waiting to hear more. Tank started at the beginning, with the day of the shooting. He, Brax, and Messer took turns laying out all they had learned about that day, including the things Kelly and Flank had told us.
Through all that, Vince denied it all, claiming to have been set up by an ambitious VP. It looked to me as if the members were roughly half and half on who they believed.
Tank opened the door and signaled someone to come in. The other members grumbled when they recognized Roadkill.
"What the fuck? You can't bring a prospect in here, Tank. I'm out." A veteran member, Astro, rose from his chair.
"Sit the fuck down, Astro. Hear this out. Roadkill, tell the brothers what went down while everybody was on runs."
Roadkill's voice was quiet, but clear, as he described how Vince had treated Fianna, and Abigail. Rumbles of anger spread around the room, and scarred fists clenches.
"You idiots, you going to take the word of a goddam prospect over your President? Bunch of fuckin' pussies." Vince spat the words.
"Wait just a minute. I'll be right back with something else you need to know." Club law says no women in the meeting room during church, but since I've already broken about a dozen laws, what's one more? I lope out to my room.
"Fianna? Abigail?" I open the door to find them huddled in my bed, stark fear on their faces. Rushing to gather them to me, I quickly explain what I need. Fianna nods and Abigail wraps her little arms around my neck.
We walk into that meeting room, and silence falls. With all eyes on me, most looking ready to kil
l me, I stand Abigail on the rough wood table. My fingers tremble with fury as I pull her sleeve up to show the livid bruise overlaying the scar from the gunshot wound.
Every face in the room goes red with anger to match my room. Well, except Vince's. His goes pale as fuck.
Astro stands again, fists clenched on the table and murder in his eyes. "Baby girl, you tell ol' Astro who hurt your arm." His soft, careful tone sounds far calmer than the look on his face.
Abigail's blue gaze sweeps around the room and lights on Vince. She raises a steady hand and points directly at him. "Mister Meanie Pants did it. He yelled at Fianna and I yelled back at him, because he's a bully." She touches her face, and for the first time, I notice the darkening bruise along her cheek and jaw. "He hit me, then grabbed my shot arm. It hurt really bad, and I was scared."
"You fucking little bitch! I told you I'd kill that motherfucker if you opened your mouth." Vince's face goes from pale to dark red, and twists into a look of pure hatred. He looks around until he finds Karate Joe, who has always supported him. "Cap these bitches. Extra million in it for you."
Karate Joe stands, and I tense for trouble. "You're a fool, Vince."
Vince's face goes even darker. "Motherfucker. We get a fee every month she lives, but when she dies, we get over twenty million to split. You telling me you’re too pussy to off two fucking bitches for that?"
"I move we pass judgement." Karate Joe's voice rings through the room.
Before I can stop her, Abigail hops off the table and marches her little self over to Vince. "Bullies don't win, mister." She comes back to me and reaches up for me to lift her in my arms.
"Wait. There's more evidence to hear," I say, with a nod toward Fianna. "While Fianna's not my ol' lady, I have claimed her. The law says no brother will molest a claimed woman, and all brothers will protect and respect her. Tell them." I move closer, lending her my strength.
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