What to Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection (WTRAFSOG Book 3)

by Lauren Hawkeye

  By the time he’d arrived the cops had already gone. They couldn’t have been there more than two minutes all told. T-Bone, Bottle, Lonnie and Eag were waiting grim-faced for Jase when he joined them. Jase wasn’t surprised that The Doctor wasn’t there, as far as he knew he hadn’t returned to the clubhouse after leaving to interrogate the meth heads the night before.

  “Into the meeting room.” Jase’s voice allowed no question. The club house was being cleaned by a couple of pledges as they headed through the door bearing the Sons of Mayhem mural.

  Jase sat in his customary space, to the left of where Bigfella should have been. His distinct absence made it clear what had happened.

  “What’d they say? Why’d they take Bigfella away?”

  Eag spoke first, his voice soft but clearly distressed. “He was arrested for a double homicide.”

  “For what?” Jase was shocked. There was no way Bigfella had done anything like that. As far as he knew, Bigfella had been in the clubhouse all day yesterday. In fact, he barely left at all these days, except to ride.

  “They said they had video of him shooting some Mexicans last night.” There were mutters of bullshit around the table.

  “When?”

  “Around 6:30.”

  “He was here then, right?” Jase’s tone was serious, but sounding a little more relieved.

  “I’m sure he was here. I was here from about 5pm, and I didn’t see him leave.” Lonnie spoke confidently.

  “You’re sure?”

  Lonnie laughed. “Well, it’s Bigfella. I saw him go down to his room with some party chick. I can’t imagine him running out on her to go whack a couple of people.”

  “All right then. So it’s clearly a misunderstanding, right? Eag, what’s our next step?” As a former lawyer the Sons always went to him with any of their brushes of the law. Even if he couldn’t represent them, he could offer free advice.

  Eag spoke clearly, and for once everyone gave him respectful attention. “We’ll have him out in no time. Tomorrow at the latest. Once they realize we have a dozen people who can verify he was here they’ll have to let him out.”

  Jase looked almost relaxed at the good news. “Okay. Let’s go down to the station. I’ll talk to Jimmy and Bigfella.” Jimmy was a classmate of Jase’s back in school. While they weren’t exactly friends, their relationship wasn’t hostile either. Jimmy was just a deputy, but he could still provide useful information.

  The men stood up as one and began to filter out of the room. “Yo Eag, call Doc and tell him what’s up, will you?”

  “Aye aye.”

  When he exited the room Jase intended to walk straight through the clubhouse to his bike outside, but on the way he was accosted by a bleary eyed girl. “Hey Jase, do you know what happened to Brodie? He didn’t come back last night.”

  “Not now Lucy. He’s probably banging some Spanish broad.”

  Her face looked hurt but he didn’t have time for that shit. Jase stormed outside to the row of motorcycles and jumped on his, starting it and peeling out of the parking lot.

  Usually he liked to baby her when he started her first thing in the morning, let her warm up, then enjoy the sound of her slow rumble for a while before going anywhere. But not today. Today he was in a hurry.

  Chapter Twenty

  Jase

  Jase’s voice was firm. “You gotta let him out Jimmy. We’ve got half a dozen, a dozen, witnesses who can put him in the clubhouse last night.” They were standing in the lobby of the sheriff’s office, empty except for Jase, the deputy and the large framed woman at the desk.

  Jimmy looked apologetic. “It’s not my call Jase, you know that. This one’s all on the sheriff.”

  “That’s fucking bullshit and you know it.” Jase’s voice was rising at the absurdity of the situation. We can fucking prove he wasn’t there!

  Jimmy sighed, “Jase. I’ve seen the tape. It was night, but seriously, it was him. It was Bigfella. He’s the only one in your crew who looks like that. An ATM across the street filmed everything. I’m sorry.”

  A pang of doubt shot through Jase. Had he been there all night? Jimmy wouldn’t lie about something like this. Would he?

  “Let me talk to him.”

  “You get five minutes.” Jimmy led Jase down to an interview room and let him sit down. “Back in a tick.”

  Jase drummed his fingers on the table as he watched his blond-haired schoolmate walk out the door to the cells. Jimmy wasn’t a bad guy.

  He didn’t have to wait long. A couple of minutes later Bigfella walked in looking thoroughly pissed off, his long braided mane hanging down over his shoulders swinging as he entered.

  Jase stood up and bumped his fist against the president’s in greeting, followed by a strong hug. They both sat down.

  “Do you know what the fuck’s going on?” Jase asked.

  Bigfella sighed. “This shit is fucked up Jase. I don’t know what the fuck is happening. They said they’ve got video of me shooting some ’spics.”

  “You were in the clubhouse right? We gotta get everyone who saw you around then to make a statement.”

  Bigfella sighed. “You know what I was doing, right?”

  Jase raised an eyebrow, “Some chick, right?”

  Bigfella banged the table, “Some nineteen year old red headed party-girl-wannabe” He cackled as he spoke, apparently delighted at the memory.

  Jase laughed. Bigfella was unstoppable. As far as he could tell, he’d been banging different chicks nonstop for most of the last forty years. That was also the cause of most of his failed marriages.

  “When were you with her from?”

  “I guess about six, to maybe around seven, seven thirty. That girl can ride, if you know what I mean.” Jase knew what he meant. Bigfella wasn’t subtle.

  “Well fuck. You see the problem, right?”

  “What? Oh.”

  “You were banging just that chick for the whole time the murders took place. I mean, she’s still a witness, but fuck.”

  Bigfella muttered something. “Well shit. It should be enough right?”

  “I don’t know. I guess. We’ve got witnesses to say they didn’t see you leave. They just can’t actually verify you were there. Fuck. Who was the chick?”

  “I don’t know her name. Ask the Doctor, she was a nurse or some shit. She was there last week too. I think that was the first time.”

  Jase nodded. “Cool. I’ll get him to track her down. Eag reckons we’ll have you out of here by tomorrow. This video’s gotta be bullshit.”

  Bigfella grinned. “Thanks. I’m glad we’ve got you to rely on. The Doctor’s great, but he’s so busy with all that hospital shit.”

  They pushed back their chairs and stood up just as Jimmy opened the door. “Time to pack it up boys. The sheriff just got back.”

  They hugged and Jase headed out the door to the lobby while the deputy put Bigfella back in his cell. Jase was about to head out the door of the building when the sheriff pushed it open.

  The sheriff looked at him with a look of contempt. “The fuck are you doing here?”

  Jase looked coldly at the Hispanic law enforcer. Despite being the children of immigrants he’d developed a reputation for being an absolute asshole to just about everyone. To the Sons, to the Mexicans, to the blacks. No one was safe from his dickishness. Jase gave no response.

  “Get the fuck out of my office.”

  Get the fuck out of my way and I might. Jase waited for the sheriff to pass him, and then headed out of the door. As he exited he could hear the sheriff yelling, “Jimmy what the fuck was that—” his voice faded as the door swung shut behind him.

  It was time to do the police’s job for them and find the redhead who’d been with Bigfella the night before.

  Jase got on his motorcycle and headed out. Little did he know his day was about to go from shitty to a full on clusterfuck.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Nicole

  I lay in Jase’s bed waiting
for him to come back. The window was open and a gentle breeze and cool desert aromas washed over my naked body. The sheets didn’t cover me. I simply lay there, letting the breeze kiss me awaiting his return.

  When Jase didn’t come back, I found myself dozing off again. I was half-asleep, half-awake, my mind only on him.

  In my mind he was kissing me, but not just on the lips; he was kissing me everywhere. Like in the warehouse, but softer, gentler, slower, like we had forever. I imagined him exploring every inch of my body, teaching me pleasures I’d never known. My fingers, my hands; my legs, my thighs; my cheeks, my lips; my breasts, my pussy.

  I imagined doing the same to him; kissing and licking every inch of his hard, tattooed body, pleasuring and teasing him with my tongue and fingers, my breasts, my pussy.

  Then in my mind he changed. He was no longer gentle. I imagined him pinning me down and taking me. Ravishing me. Fucking me whether I wanted it or not (and oh, how I did). In my dreams he looked angry as he took me, pounded me, hurt me, pleasured me, filled me. Not angry at me, but using me for a release, a remedy for his rage.

  He pinned my ankles behind my head with a strong hand as he forced himself into me over and over, my moans and screams, my yelps and gasps only driving him on, making him force himself onto me, into me, ever more roughly as pain and pleasure overwhelmed me in ever increasing waves.

  I was hot and wet and gasping when I was awoken by a scream. A primal scream. A scream of fear and pain. And I recognized the voice. It was Lucy.

  I jumped out of bed, my head swimming with imagery, my mind foggy and confused, delirious from rapidly diminishing arousal. I quickly pulled on my shirt and shorts, not bothering with underwear. I glanced at the fuck-me boots on the floor. Fuck it.

  I opened the door and jumped out of the trailer, my bare feet pounding the flat roof of the clubhouse as I ran to the staircase.

  The metal was cool on my soles as I scampered down. The shriek had turned to sobbing. Awful, wailing, sobbing. It was coming from outside. Instead of going in the back door I ran around the side of the building to the source, to Lucy.

  Small stones dug into my feet, but I ignored the pain. I had to find out what the matter was.

  I ran around the corner and saw Lucy being held in a bear-hug by The Doctor. At first I was confused. What’s the matter? But then I saw it and let out a whimper of my own.

  “Oh God.” My voice was a hoarse whisper. I’d never seen anything like this before, never experienced this kind of horror. My body immediately started to shake and I dropped to my knees.

  On the ground in front of Lucy was a head. A bloody head with a long, thick beard. It was Brodie.

  As I dropped to my knees I heard the distant thunder of an approaching motorcycle. Please be Jase, please be Jase, please be Jase.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Jase

  There’s a time for peace and a time for war. There’s a time to forgive and forget, to negotiate and make amends, to make agreements and agree to let sleeping dogs lie. And then there are times when you have to gather your crew, grab your weapons and kick some serious fucking ass. When Jase saw the staring unseeing eyes of his friend he knew what time it was.

  The clubhouse was quiet as Jase sat in a booth, his left hand grasping Nicole’s far too tightly, his right holding a glass of whisky far too early. There were angry and sad mutterings as the members of the club slowly drifted in as the news spread. The air was tense and the possibility of violence hung like a dark cloud over the room. The sadness they felt overshadowed by anger, a quiet seething rage that they knew had to be sated. Now the men were waiting. Waiting for leadership, waiting to be told what to do, who to beat, who to punish, who to shoot or maim.

  He didn’t speak as he let the rage roil inside him. There was nothing he wanted better than to grab some weapons and go shoot every last Mexican fuckhead he could find. But it wasn’t time, not yet.

  His eyes shot to the front of the room as the clubhouse door smashed open and the Doctor hurried in, spotting Jase immediately and heading over. At last. The other members, hangers on and pledges gave quiet nods or single words of greeting; no one dared to interrupt him.

  The Doctor stood over the booth and his expression was grim, his eyes filled with pain. “I just got the news. Let’s go.” He nodded his head in the direction of the meeting room.

  Jase released Nicole’s hand, surprised at how tight his grip was and that she hadn’t complained. As he got up to follow the Doctor he glanced over his shoulder and gave Nicole a wan smile as he left. Even after last night and the shock of the morning she still looked good. Seeing her sitting there lit a tiny spark of warmth in his cold heart, immediately extinguished when he remembered what had happened.

  There was a heavy weight in Jase’s stomach as he walked across the room, side by side with the Doctor, everyone’s eyes on them. With Bigfella absent it was up to them to make the decisions for the club, to guide them, and most importantly, to get revenge.

  The doors swung closed as Jase and the Doctor sat down across from each other, next to where Bigfella should have been sitting. “What the fuck, Jase?”

  “What the fuck.” Jase agreed.

  The Doctor looked him in the eyes. Jase thought he could see some hesitancy, as if he was looking at him for approval, or guidance or… something. “What the hell’s going on?”

  Jase sighed, his fingers digging into his palms as he squeezed his fists tight. “Someone’s fucking with us, Doc. This shit with Bigfella? This shit with the Mexicans? Someone’s motherfuckin’ playing us.”

  The Doctor nodded. “What are we going to do?”

  His stomach in knots, Jase spoke words he wondered if he’d regret. “The Mexicans killed Brodie. Our brother. My friend. They killed him. He was on a motherfuckin’ mission of peace. And those burrito-eating fuckheads murdered him. They believed the fuckin’ sheriff that it was Bigfella that shot their men? Fuckheads. I don’t give a fuck if someone is playing us, or playing them. We have to avenge Brodie. Then we’ll worry about every-fucking-thing else.”

  The Doctor sat in a silence for a second, two, three. A pang of doubt flashed across Jase’s mind. Am I wrong, Doc? We have to avenge Brody, right? Please don’t suggest we meet with them… A look of almost relief flashed across Doc’s face. “Agreed. Even if someone is playing us off against the Mexicans those bean-eaters fucked up.”

  Fucked up? Brodie’s dead. It’s more than a fuck up. “We need to go to war, Doc. And if we do this, we can’t just punish those fuckers. We don’t want tit for tat fucking murders. No. We’re gonna destroy them.”

  Jase watched as the Doctor gulped. Can you handle it, medicine man? “Can you…” His voice trailed off.

  Jase asked, “Can I do it?”

  The Doctor nodded.

  “I have to do it. It was Brodie.”

  “Of course. I mean, do we have the men? The… equipment?”

  Weapons. Jase thought for a moment. “They’re going to be expecting us to respond. We’re going to need a plan.” The room was silent for a moment as Jase thought while the Doctor looked on expectantly. “We’re going to have to keep this close. I mean real, real close. But I think we should bring Gauge in.”

  The Doctor raised his eyebrows. It would be a risk, bringing in Gauge. He was just a prospect at the moment, but he had skills they would need. “How long has it been?”

  Jase thought for a moment. “When was the funeral? Fourteen months ago?”

  The Doctor nodded. Almost fourteen months ago to the day another Son had died. Killed on the road after a truck tire blew, startling the almost sleeping truck driver who swerved his rig straight into Wrench who was passing him.

  That was when Gauge had come in to town. Wrench hadn’t just been a Son, in a previous life he’d been a soldier. 182nd US airborne. The toughest motherfuckers in all of the armed forces; at least that’s what he’d claimed. Gauge showed up for the funeral and had been invited to the wake when they found out he’
d been just as much of a brother to Wrench as the Sons had.

  And then Gauge never really left again. He worked for Jase’s security company and had been biding his time. He’d been a hang-around for a few months, before formally becoming a pledge – what some other clubs called a prospect. The process of becoming a member normally took two or three years, maybe longer if they were young. Is fourteen months enough?

  They sat in silent contemplation as they considered the idea of bringing Gauge in. “Do you trust him? Really trust him?”

  Jase sighed. I do. But should I? “Yes. Since he started working for me he’s been a rock. Solid, always there. He doesn’t fuck around and he gets shit done. And fuck, I think we’re gonna need him.”

  The Doctor nodded. “You think he’ll be up to the task?”

  Jase laughed. It was a cold, humorless laugh. “Doc, Gauge killed more towel-heads in Iraq than I’ve had hot dinners. And he won’t even fucking talk about what happened in Somalia, Cambodia or Af-fuckin-ghanistan. Me? I can shoot a gun, I can hold my own in a fight. That guy? He spent 20 years as Uncle Sam’s personal killing machine. Y’know what my plan would be? We get everyone we know, ride into little Mexico and then shoot every last taco-munching fucker. But somehow, I don’t think that’d work. But Gauge? He’ll know what to do.”

  The Doctor laughed. “Well we need to put it to the table. See if anyone else has any suggestions. But go talk to him, get him ready, I doubt anyone will vote against him. Let’s try and get shit rolling by tonight.”

  Jase nodded. Gauge would no doubt be sleeping now. He would have been working until the clubs closed last night and wouldn’t be up until noon at the earliest. He lived out in the middle of nowhere ‘off the grid’ as he called it. Not even a phone. He wouldn’t have a clue what was going on.

  Jase looked at the Doctor again. He was beginning to feel better. The ball of icy rage in the pit of his stomach was heating up. Talking things over was helping. Now he needed action. “Anything else?”