by Ryder Dane
She laughed, and winked at him. “Are you sure his name’s not Ken?”
He shook his head and looked toward Lonnie, “No, he’s a Lonnie, you’ll figure it out.” He made the introductions and walked out to the sidewalk with them. “She gives you the slip, call me, the only place she’s by herself is in the fuckin’ toilet, you got that?” He didn’t wait for a reply, he grabbed Stevie and laid a long sexy kiss on her lips and patted her on the ass. “Be good and don’t give the boy a hard time.”
He mounted up, put on his helmet, and left them standing there.
Stevie looked at Lonnie, who was looking at the people around them. “Well I guess it’s you and me, the boss has left the minions alone. Should we go to his place and short sheet the bed?”
Her companion looked confused and she understood what John had been smiling about. Shit, it was going to be a long damn day.
*****
John headed to visit the cop shop. He wanted a name, and since his garage worked on the cages, the cops considered him friendly. He wasn’t a fan of cops since his stint as one of them, but he wasn’t a hater either. They had a place and were necessary most of the time. The ones who had their tin god complexes didn’t last around these parts.
Jimmy Wilson was sitting at the front desk talking on the telephone when he walked into the place. The man was alright, a little uptight at times, but he hadn’t given him any problems, so John treated the shorter man with the respect he gave.
Jimmy hung up the phone and smiled at him, so John nodded at him in greeting, neither man offered to shake hands, the lines stayed drawn in some areas of the relationship between the heat and the bikers.
“What can I do for you today, John? Didn’t that hussy, Billie Sue, send the check for tuning up the cruiser?”
John laughed and shook his head. “Yeah, she sent it, that’s not why I’m here. I wanted to talk to the Sheriff about the Toy Run we’re having in a couple of weeks. We don’t want to disrupt the traffic like last year, that ol’ boy almost tore a strip off Baron for disturbing his lunch so he could direct traffic.”
The two men sat around shooting the shit for almost half an hour before Jimmy brought up the subject of Stevie’s attack. He didn’t mention her name, just that a woman had been violated this week, and there was an increase in breaking and enterings around town. “We got prints, but they come back as a biker from out of the area, he’s got a record long as my damn arm and been in and out of one prison or the other since his momma whelped him.”
John frowned and tried to look puzzled, “We don’t have a lot of brothers that have those talents, Jimmy, you know most of us, hell, we don’t sanction violating anybody, you know that too.”
The Deputy was shaking his head, “Hell no, man, if we thought he was one of the Breed, we’d be at the clubhouse looking for him. This boy is a bad guy with nothing to lose, ‘specially since they finally made that three strikes law. Hang on a minute, I got a name, if he shows up, we’d appreciate an anonymous call.”
He walked over to the computer desk and tapped the keys, then walked over to the wall where the printer was sitting by itself, because the building was old and electric plugs were scarce. He pulled the sheet of paper off the tray and came back to the desk. “His name is Burton Chandlehook. He goes by the names Candle and Fuse. No one’s seen him on the radar for eight months, since the day he was paroled from Huntsville. He never made it to his first appointment with the parole office.”
The desk phone began ringing, and Jimmy shook his head at the interruption, “Billie Sue better get back from her vacation soon, I ain’t a damn secretary.” He answered the phone and the men exchanged waves and head nods. John left the office, and felt the satisfaction of knowing the name of his prey. He wasn’t worried about Deputy Jimmy knowing that he knew the name. Coincidences happened all of the time, and proving shit was hard when there was no evidence.
He headed southeast, anticipating the hunt and focusing on his main target. The ride would be a long one, but the information he needed would be worth it, and if he happened to run across a Rat or two, the trip might be entertaining at least. He was doing recon for now, unless opportunity came knocking.
Arkansas had some beautiful countryside, he had to give them that, and the foothills of the Ozarks had a few breathtaking views that he enjoyed seeing on his trip, too bad he didn’t have the time to fully enjoy them.
When he stopped for gas and to walk the kinks out, he admired the setting of the gas station and convenience store. The trees and wild flowers looked like a picture postcard.
The cashier was a chatty little guy who appeared to know everybody and everything going on in the area.
“If you’re a drinking man, you should know the next county is a dry one. You cain’t buy nuthin’ but rubbin’ alcohol there, so if you’re headed home, might want to grab yourself a six to take with you.”
John shook his head and walked back to the cooler to grab soda. All he’d need would be for the chatty fucker to keep talking, soon enough he’d get some sort of direction to find the Swamp Rat’s nest.
Two people walked into the station, and one started giving the little man shit while the other came around the corner of the aisle to the beer coolers. John was partially hidden on the opposite side of the aisle and pretended that he was looking at the chips. It didn’t take long for the trouble to start, and he waited until the two tough guys had the kid hanging over the counter with one of them lying over the top of his scrawny victim while he pulled cigarettes out of the dispenser. His companion was selecting the type of whiskey that they wanted to take with them.
Sure enough, the fuckers wore Swamp King cuts, but they weren’t fully patched, that disappointed him, but they would work to further his purposes.
“Hey, boys, now that ain’t a nice thing to do to someone smaller than you are. Your big ass is squishin’ the little guy. I’m sure he’d co-operate with you stealin’ from his place of business, you don’t need to be hurtin’ him. Why don’t you just steal what you can carry and let him go?”
It was all an act, a good ol’ boy trying to be helpful to the distressed clerk. The Rat straightened up from on top of the boy and the other jumped down from the counter where he’d been standing. Typical behavior, they were going to gang up on him for interfering with their fun. Fuckin’ Rats.
“Well, well, what have we got here, Willie? Looks like a bad boy biker, but you ain’t bad ‘nuff for the Swamp Kings? Is that why you ain’t wearing our colors? What the fuck is a Lucifer’s Breed anyway. I’ll tell you, a Lucifer’s Breed is one ugly motherfucker, that’s what you are. You a pussy man, ain’cha?”
Willie kept bobbing his head up and down while the long-haired punk talked. If he wasn’t reaching for a weapon, John would have laughed at the expression on the freckled face. His hand held a pig sticker from his boot, and John had all of the incentive he needed by law. He was unarmed, but played the scene up for the security cameras that were located in every corner of the room. He held his hands out to his sides and shook his head.
“You boys should just leave, if you come at me with that toothpick, I’m gonna think you intend to do my body harm, and I’m trained to hurt you if I have to.” He knew his words would make the overconfident assholes laugh—he counted on it. Too many Kung-Fu movies instead of cartoons must have been what they were raised on.
“OOwee, we got a real bad assed muthafucker here, I’m skeered, ain’t you skeered, Mel?” Willie must’ve found his voice when he got his weapon in his grasp.
Now all he needed was for them to come and get him before he schooled the punks. It took maybe five seconds for him to break the wrist that held the knife, and another ten to shove the little fucker’s head into the metal doorframe. Mel tried to jump him from behind, and John sidestepped at the last second, Mel landed on top of his pal who was now bleeding from a head wound and moaning, while his prone body was blocking the exit.
Like any other Rat would do, Mel tried to ya
nk Willie out from the doorway, but John grabbed him by the back of his shirt and shook him. “You move him, and he might die, that’s on you, asshole.”
The little prick reacted to that just as John figured he would, he started swinging his fists. He was allowed one knuckle crunching punch, before John punched him in the gut, and as he went down, rather than the traditional upper cut to the jaw, John brought the side of his hand down on the boy’s collarbone, halfway between his neck and shoulder. Mel was hauled over to where Willie still laid bleeding.
John walked back to the cooler, got his soda, and came back to the desk to see the clerk watching him with eyes widened. He looked like a fish gulping for water. “Sorry about the mess, here’s a twenty to pay for the disinfectant and the soda.” He leaned in closer to look the boy up and down. “Did they hurt you?”
The little guy shook his head and rattled his brains enough to speak. “Oh man, that was so cool, where’d you learn to do that?” He offered his hand for John to shake and a friendship of sorts was formed.
“Shouldn’t you call the cops or an ambulance or something?” John wasn’t surprised when his new friend who introduced himself as Tyler Butler, shook his head.
“Last time they came into the place and my sister called the law, they cut the hoses on the gas pumps and shot the windows out. We usually let ‘em steal whatever they come for and be done with it. I haven’t had to meet these two before, and I’m not sure what to do with them. This ain’t the first time we’ve been robbed mind you, but usually they don’t try to hurt any of us.’ He glanced over to where the two men were lying in the doorway. “That one, he’s bleeding pretty bad.”
John went to the back corner of the room and called Baron. Once he’d related what went down, he asked him if he’d call Pappy D and tell him to come get his boys. “I’ll put them in the bed of their pick-up. Thanks.” He ended the call, not wanting to get into any in-depth conversation with the prez right then.
He went to the door and started moving the wounded men out of the way enough that he could drag them back out the door and over to their beat to hell and back pick-up. Mel was groggy and in pain, but he was awake, so John gave him the speech that he’d be repeating to every Rat he would find until he had Candle in his grasp.
“You tell Candle to drag his stinking cowardly ass out of that putrid swamp he lives in, and come face me, or more of you boys are gonna suffer until he does.”
He went back inside and finished getting the information he sought from Tyler, then he offered the kid a smile and made his request.
“I want you to give me the security footage from the cameras, and don’t bother to tell me you don’t have access, I just saved your ass, and I want to be able to prove it.”
Now that he knew where the Swamp Kings clubhouse was located, he could do some recon before he left the area.
*****
Pappy D came stomping out onto the back porch and started yelling for Donnie Lee. “Get your ass down to the county line station and see what kinda shape those two gator baits has got themselves into now. I jest gotta a call from that Breed bastard, his boy done fucked up Mel an’ Willie.”
The old man was so pissed he was trembling with his anger, and Donnie was concerned Pappy D would blow a blood vessel or something, but he nodded his compliance and headed for his scoot. He wasn’t surprised when the old man called after him to hurry his ass up. Mel was Donnie’s youngest brother, and spoiled as they came. He was always having to drag the little bastard out of trouble.
He’d no sooner mounted his bike than Mel drove up in the pick–up, almost running into the line of bikes in front of the club. He slumped over the wheel with the motor still running, and Donnie grew alarmed.
He pulled open the door and reached under his brother’s chest to turn the key off, and then pushed Mel upright so he could see what the damage was. A couple of scrapes in his little brother’s face wasn’t enough to do the damage that Mel must have to be throwing up blood like he was doing.
He laid his hand on the horn to get the attention of whoever was inside the club, and heard screaming from the back of the truck. “Oh fuck me, we’re gonna have to call the medics for this one.”
Pappy D was trailed Kermit and Dell coming out of the front doors of the clubhouse and almost shoved the two out of his way when he saw the truck. He heard Donnie calling for an ambulance and knew it must be bad. He could hear Willie screaming that his head was split in two, but his concern was for his boy.
“Lay him on the seat, and give him a few sips of water, but nothin’ else, if’n he’s pukin’ blood, there ain’t much we can do.”
Tonda, Dolly, and June brought the bottles of water and damp towels to try to make the injured men more comfortable. A plastic bag filled with ice cubes was placed directly on top of Willie’s head wound that still seeped blood down his face, and Pappy D sat on the steps with his head down, thinking.
He called Donnie over to him, and quietly told him to find Candle. “You bring that troublemakin’ sumbitch to me. You do it friendly, or you do it not so friendly, but you bring that fucker here to me, you hear me, boy?”
Donnie nodded his head. Candle should never have been allowed back into the fold when he got out of Huntsville. The code said he paid his due and was one of them, so he was welcomed back with a party and everything. Since he’d been back, they’d had nothing but trouble coming their way, and with the case of mad Pappy was wearin’, the shit was gonna splatter the walls real soon.
“I’ll go soon as the medics get Mel and Willie in the meat wagon. Mel kept sayin’ the one that fucked them up was a big mutha, and said he was lookin’ for Candle.”
It occurred to him the Breed’s prez acted like a decent sort considering, but he wasn’t going to say that out loud. Pappy D wouldn’t have bothered to call his enemy to send them to help their brothers. Mayhap the Breed was touched in the head kinda like Willie was. If that was the case, then how in the hell did they get to be such bad motherfuckers?
*****
John watched the scene play out in the dirt parking space in front of a weathered old building. None of the men looked like the picture in the mug shot he’d seen on the print out on Deputy Jimmy’s desk.
He backed into the trees and hiked to the spot he’d left his bike. He had a long ride ahead of him, but now that he had a location, he’d be back real soon.
Chapter Seven
It was a long damn ride back to Juanita, but he was focused and ready to kick ass by the time he pulled into the lot at the club. He’d stopped by the garage and traded his daily ride for the bagger so he wouldn’t have to make another stop. Gabe and Chewy had everything in order at the shop, so he was free to take care of personal business. He walked in the door and Myrtle told him that the prez wanted to see his ass pronto. As she put it, “You are in trouble, my man; if he has to come get you, me an’ Burger are selling tickets.” She smiled sympathetically and popped the cap from the longneck she handed to him as he strode past.
He rapped on the door and turned the handle, before walking into the room. Baron was going through the books with Orin and Fingers. When he saw who walked in, his eyes narrowed and he told the number crunchers to get their shit straightened out. “I’m no accountant but I can see we have a problem, you two are in charge of the books, I’m getting the idea that one or both of you are getting ready to make a move. Probably to some place a bike can’t find you, but Tank and his accountants are at your place going through the computers there and the office. If he doesn’t find a discrepancy, we’re good, if he finds that we have reason to worry, we’re not so good.
“While they’re working, you boys are our guests right here at the clubhouse. If you try to leave before you get the go-ahead, you won’t be here as guests, you get me?”
Sweat dotted Fingers’s forehead, and while Orin appeared calm on the outside, Baron saw the man kept swallowing. Fuck, he knew they’d been skimming money. He kept a record of every transaction the club mad
e, one set of books was legitimate business, and the other not so legitimate. These two thought they were smarter than the rest of them, they would pay for their error in judgment.
Skids and Burger escorted them from the room while John waited for the ass chewing he had coming. He didn’t have long to wait. Once Baron put the bogus ledgers to the side, he folded his hands on the desk and stared at him. John waited him out, there was no point in denying that he was guilty of a couple of minor indiscretions, the phone call was a spur of the moment thing, even if he had reason to hang up on Baron at the time.
“So, this is what I want from you, and don’t give me any shit, I’ve been buried in a damn sty of it all fuckin’ day. That phone call just got the ball rolling so tell me why I shouldn’t kick your ass from here to the corner, and make it one of those in-depth stories, the kind where I get all the information, not just the fill in the blank version. You know I’ve got your back, but this shit is getting real close to a war with those gator lickers. Leech and the boys started a collection for you to pick from to get the information you want, and I had to discuss the issue with them today when I saw guest number two coming through the blocks, followed by Charm driving right up to the door a half hour ago and popping the trunk.”
He watched John carefully, readying himself to grab the man when he gave him the news.
“One of those boys you fucked up was Pappy D’s youngest, and it appears that you weren’t the only one who went off the rez today. Our Miss Charming snagged one of the Rats by flattening her tire on the side of I-30 about two miles out of Murky Carl’s gator farm. He was real nice to Charm and changed her tire, and when he put the flat in her trunk, he got tasered in the neck for his troubles.” He had to smile as he remembered his astonishment when he saw what she’d done.
“She says she owes you for something, and it’s just her way of paying you back. You owe the club a roll of duct tape, she used the whole thing wrapping him up to keep him from ‘getting himself all upset.’ What she didn’t know, is that her fish is the biggest one of the bunch aside from Pappy D, she scored his oldest boy, Donnie Lee Dean. They say he’s slated to be Pappy’s replacement, so it appears I’m not the only one who has your interests at heart. Now talk.”