“No, no, no! Goddamn it, no! Miranda, baby, please get up for me. Baby, please open your fuckin’ eyes!”
Trey, Kyra, Cillian, Gisela, Dizzy, and Bronaugh immediately ran to Kink’s side. He hunched on the ground, his arms cradling his wife’s head as a pool of blood spread beneath her like scarlet-black angel wings. Multiple gunshots to her chest and abdomen indicated the chances of her being saved were next to nil.
Trey backed away, the vision of Keri on High Street in Belfast flooding his mind all over again. He recalled the moment they were abducted, black hoods immediately covering their heads. The abandoned warehouse they were driven to and where they were strapped to chairs, their ankles bound, their arms behind their back, secured with duct tape. He faced the woman he loved as the bitch placed the call to his sister, spoke a few choice words, and one of her companions shot Keri in the head, point blank.
His mind blanked and he glanced at Kink. The man wasn’t sobbing but his face was a map of torment, pain, and flushed with emotion. Saliva dripped from his open mouth and snot from his nose; his blue eyes red-rimmed as tears rolled down his face in complete and utter denial, yet sadly resigned to a fate the remorseless Grim Reaper had dealt him with no contrition at all.
The pale, waxy color of death, which quickly stole the brilliance and light from its victim’s body, no matter how vibrant they’d been in life. The limp, unyielding weight of a soulless corpse; the essence of what made them human drifting into infinity or somewhere beyond this violent, cruel world. The victims left behind to mourn and sob over an empty vessel that could never be revived or brought back.
Dozens of sirens pulled Trey out of the hopelessness of the moment as Cricket and Bookie opened the compound gates. Sheriff Rawlins drove the first vehicle while four department vehicles followed his; several ambulances and the fire department trailing them.
Gisela, Kyra, and Bronaugh pulled Kink away from Miranda’s body as the EMTs immediately took over and began to assess the situation. Dizzy walked over to Sheriff Rawlins and spoke to him quietly as Cillian moved to Trey and placed a hand on his shoulder.
“That coulda easily been your old lady or mine, brother. Kink is my best mate—always has been—and I can tell you with a doubt he loved Miranda with all his heart.” He sighed with grudging acceptance. “Now he’s a widower with two little boys who’re gonna be askin’ for their mommy. We gotta nip this shit in the bud right now. Did you get a look at any of the vehicles?”
“Not enough. I need to get a hold of the security tapes before Rawlins confiscates them,” Trey replied, detached. “Come on, let’s go.”
They both walked into the clubhouse and directly to the security room - it had an alarm system installed along with an electronic lock. Trey quickly punched in the code and the two men immediately grabbed the security DVDs before replacing them with fresh ones. He quickly punched in a code on the laptop and turned them on to record.
“Won’t the cops figure out something’s wrong when the evidence isn’t available?” Cillian asked while Trey worked quickly and efficiently.
“No, not really. I reprogramed the system to backdate the last twelve hours but there will be a lot of fuzzy interludes. It’ll just look like the DVDs were defective. The cops aren’t gonna solve this—we are. It’s obvious who was behind this and despite Emilio’s promises to the contrary; he lied to us like it was no big deal. Fuckin’ with the brothers is one thing but this was a family event! What if the twins had been outside? They’ve gone too far.” Trey mashed his teeth together in frustration.
They faced each other. “That spic bastard is gonna wish his mother never gave birth to his dumb ass. The Navarro family is going to ground…I honestly don’t care what we have to do to bring them down.”
“Let’s wait until emergency chapel, all right? We’ll get our revenge but let’s be smart about it. The last thing we need is to go in all half-cocked. We need the guys who participated in the drive-by first. They go down and while they’re beggin’ for us to end them, we’ll get the information we need. All right?
Cillian shook his head wordlessly. “Gather everyone—Kink included. I know the man is hurtin’ right now. The best elixir is revenge. Nothin’ else is gonna do. Before the end of the night, none of those punk ass bitches will be breathin’. I want them all fuckin’ dead!”
“Understood.”
Trey quietly gathered the men as all their guests settled into the clubhouse. They all knew the drill. Regardless the tragedy, there would be a self-imposed lockdown that had already began. It wasn’t exactly hard to find the brothers and they slowly trickled in to chapel, Kink being one of the last.
The pain on his face radiated. Dried tears left clean trails in between dirt and grime plastered over his face. He chain-smoked and didn’t talk to anyone. Trey wished he didn’t know how his brother felt, but he did, and that’s why his heart ached for Kink more than he would ever know.
Dizzy slammed the door and took his seat before glaring around the table, his face a mask of anger while stunning crystal blue eyes shined cold and remote.
“This is a terrible fuckin’ day. Me grandchildren had their baptism and now the club is shot up at their party?” He shook his head and controlled his overwhelming rage. “Emilio won’t get away with this. The cartel is over—I will fookin’ bury those brown motherfuckers myself!”
Brendan lit a cigar. “I’ll call Jonesy, Angelo, and Raymond. No doubt they are goin’ to want in on this piece of action.”
“Call every powerful person we know, excluding Dimitri Koslakov,” Dizzy responded. “We can’t afford the heat they’d bring to the club right now. Other than that, I don’t give a damn about how much manpower it takes or how much—in money or favors—it costs the club. If any of those pricks are alive at the end of the day, heads are gonna roll.
“I’ve spoken with the Sheriff and Rawlins has agreed to let us handle it our way as long we keep it quiet. No mistakes, no witnesses. The department will take care of the bodies—Vegas-style. They’ll never be found, ever. And remember, lads, this ain’t about flexin’ muscle, showin’ off, or representin’. It’s about getting those stupid eejits to pay for what they’ve done to our club.”
Sean caressed his beard. “I know we want Aztecas Infierno to burn but are we sure this is a solid move or are we merely sending a message? No doubt they’ll send another one and we’ll just keep goin’ around in circles. We can’t risk another casualty.”
Kink glanced up, his eyes red-rimmed and his expression, cold and desolate. “Sean, I didn’t have a personal beef with AI. I never liked them and I sure as fuck didn’t trust them, but not because they were Mexican. Both Miranda and my sister have Mexican blood runnin’ through their veins and I don’t love them any less.
“I worship my old lady—loved her with every bone in my motherfuckin’ body. Without her, I wouldn’t have my boys…never would have known what the fuck love was if she hadn’t entered my life. Now I’m wishin’ we never met. Not ’cause I love her any less but ‘cause if she’d never met a thug like me, she wouldn’t be fuckin’ dead!
“I did that shit—it’s all on me,” he continued in shaky voice. “But those bastards, they pulled the fuckin’ trigger. So, yeah, up until today, they were just some pricks we did business with and I was apathetic about ’em. Now they’ve done this to my family, I won’t rest until every last motherfucker has gone to ground.”
Trey didn’t have anything to add to the discussion; he was too busy thinking about what he was going to do to help. He knew what he had to do. He was good at finding people who didn’t want to be found and even better at acquiring information. There was no way he couldn’t do his part in this war that had dragged out for much too long in a proverbial Mexican standoff, pun intended.
“Don’t worry, brother,” Cillian replied as he looked at Kink. “We’ll have our retribution and Miranda’s death won’t be in vain. If I could do anything to bring her back, God knows I would. Part of this shit is on me
, too. Hardy wanted to end him back in November and I was adamant Carlito be allowed to live ’cause he’s my cousin and I didn’t want Emilio to make my old lady a widow. But now...the situation’s different. If I could go back to the night we were at High Lights, I would let Hardy pull the trigger.
“That motherfucker has to go to ground. They spill our blood, we spill theirs—simple as that. They want a real motherfuckin’ war—high powered assault rifles, shootouts, dead bodies on the streets—they fuckin’ got one now. We’re gonna go Belfast on their ass, lads. Teach ’em why the English feared us so much when they had to guard our Catholic asses in Northern Ireland. They just fucked with the wrong white boys.”
“Dizzy, time to make the call. You gotta warn Emilio what’s to come…it’s only fair.” Brendan, ever the voice of reason, looked down at the table after his quiet command to their Prez.
Trey glanced at his father as he set the receiver to the side, put the call on speaker, and dialed the number. The phone rang twice before it was picked up.
“Dizzy,” Emilio greeted in a calm voice. “I hoped it wouldn’t come to this, amigo, but alas, you put the Feds on us. They questioned me and my brother, came into our cribs with search warrants and tore our shit up. That ain’t cool, homes. When you do these types of things, mano, make me lose income and look like a fuckin’ cabrón to my son and the soldiers in my organization, that shit can’t fly. Today was just to prove how much I could hurt you and your club, just like you’ve made me suffer.”
“You stupid fookin’ muppet,” Dizzy began in an icy, calculating voice. “I’m not yer friend, mate, homeboy, or brother. You think you made us suffer today? Youse went to town on us an’ this ain’t somethin’ we’re walkin’ away from. So I’m gonna tell you what to expect. You wanted a war, didn’t you? You like blowin’ away innocent women and shootin’ at fookin’ kids playin’ outside? I will end youse the same way I’ll end yer son and you can fookin’ bet on that shite. Me and you—we’re nothin’. Don’t ever contact me again ’cause right now, I’m talkin’ to an empty telephone with youse.”
“Mmm, and why is that?” Carlito interrupted, his tone mocking their anger and frustration.
“There’s dead men at the end of this motherfuckin’ line,” Cillian replied in a frosty voice and slammed the receiver down.
Trey looked around the table. “We know what we wanna do and we know what we’re gonna do. Let’s take the vote.”
Cillian stared at his brother before he glanced at the Prez. “All in favor of decimating Aztecas Infierno, destroying the organization and the MC, killin’ as many of those bastards as we can lay our hands on and makin’ their fuckin’ bitches widows just say ‘Yea.’”
“Yea,” all the brothers at the table said at once.
Dizzy banged down the gavel. “Meeting adjourned. Cillian, I want youse to take Kink, Trey, Cricket, Bookie, and Quinn. Cell, you stay here with us old guys and look after the families. Do what you gotta do but I want all of youse to come back in one piece, you got it?”
Trey stood and walked out of the room. He found Kyra in the game room with Gisela. They sat, their fingers clasped together while Bronaugh held Daire and Misty nestled Rori in her arms.
She stood at the same time as Gisela who strode directly to Cillian.
Kyra’s arms wrapped around his waist as she pressed her face into the crook of his neck, her breath warm against his skin. “I know what you have to do, babe. I’m here for you and I’ll always support everything you do to keep this club— and us—safe. Promise me you’ll take care of yourself out there,” she murmured.
“I know it’s a tough position for you to be in, babe. Shit’s about to go down and I have to send a message to the powers that be. Is there any way you can get home and grab the iPhone?” he whispered back.
Kyra pulled back and looked him in the eyes. “It’s on me, honey. I know…I shouldn’t but…I haven’t felt safe with everything goin’ on. I wanted to be able to make contact. The way things are right now, how the hell are Gisela and I supposed to run a business? How can we go to work? Our law firm might be their next drive-by target.”
“No, it won’t come to that. Between Raymond, Angelo, Jonesy, and Dizzy, they’re all fuckin’ dead. Nel’s my next call. If they venture anywhere near Black Oak, they’ll die on motherfuckin’ principle alone. This will never happen again. We lost Miranda today and several others were injured. We will keep our club safe and more importantly, we’re gonna end ’em. No negotiations, no more talk—we gotta put ’em all in the motherfuckin’ ground.”
“I know…and that’s what scares me so much because what happens after? There’s bound to be complications—what if everything doesn’t go according to plan? I wouldn’t be able to deal with losing you too. Not when you and your club are my family.” She squeezed him tighter before she let go. “Come on, let’s make those calls before Cillian starts looking for you.”
They walked to his personal room where he unlocked the door and she followed him inside.
Trey’s phone pinged, indicating he had a text message. He pulled it out of his pocket and glanced at it.
Cillian: With the missus. Be ready. 1 hour. Gotta fuck b4 we fight.
Trey smirked. He quickly Swype’d a reply.
Trey: I was gonna mention that. My dick’s been hard since shit kicked off. Gotta fuck my ole lady and then I’ll be ready to take ’em all down.
Kyra clutched his shoulder softly before she handed him the burner iPhone they used for emergency messages to his mother. He grabbed it and quickly messaged her.
Trey: Drive-by today in BT. AI involved. Miranda DOA. Club lockdown. Shooters involved will be terminated by LS. RJ, AA, JH involved. WK possible involvement.
He tossed the burner on the bed and placed a call to Nel on his own phone. The line rang and a voice laced with too many years of cigarettes and booze answered the phone.
“This is a rare treat. I hear everything is goin’ just fine as far as deliveries are concerned so what do I owe the pleasure and why isn’t it Dizzy or Killer ringin’ my damn phone?”
“Nel, the club was hit today by Aztecas Infierno. Drive-by shooting. Kink’s wife was murdered during the incident.”
“Fuck,” the middle-aged man replied. “You didn’t take out one of those taco-eatin’ motherfuckers?”
“Didn’t have time. There was a club party goin’ on for Daire and Rori’s baptism. We weren’t expectin’ any shit like that. Yeah, we knew they were gonna strike but not when our old ladies and kids were runnin’ around. It’s a bad situation,” Trey replied.
Nel sighed out loud. “You know you got our support. I ain’t never had nothing against you—not even with you bein’ a mongrel and all. Those beaners get caught anywhere near Black Oak, I’m tellin’ Jake to put the word out. The Knights and the local Neo-Nazis will be on watch. They’re goin’ to ground if they come here. And tell Kink I’m real sorry. No one deserves that…losin’ a wife over club shit. That just ain’t right.”
“Listen, I know we got some bad blood between our clubs. The shootout the Knights caused at O’Branaughs last year, you losin’ not only Keri but your son, Baxter, during the retaliation by the Saints. I wanna thank you for puttin’ all that aside—”
“Me losin’ Keri was my mistake, Lennon. So was me ordering that shootout in Birch Tree at O’Branaughs. Baxter was a casualty of club life. Boy was dumber than pig shit but he was a good soldier and the way we live, everybody can’t be a motherfuckin’ chief. Some of the men gotta be Indians and he was a damn good one too.
“But killin’ a woman…that just ain’t right,” Nel continued in a strong voice. “The Knights ain’t always been a club I was proud of. We done a lot of bad things. Rapin’ Loire, and other women belongin’ to the Bastards and the Saints. Y’all ain’t never done no shit like that to us. I figure I’m gettin’ up there and I gotta start somewhere. Consider this a peace offerin’…me tryin’ to atone for a few sins before I meet the Reaper. I ain�
�t thinkin’ God wants anythin’ to do with trash like me but I sure as hell don’t wanna spend eternity goin’ through the seven circles of Dante’s Inferno.”
Trey wanted to correct him about Inferno and tell him there were nine circles, not seven, but he knew it would come off as arrogant instead of informative.
“Thanks for your support. I’ll let the brothers know,” he said.
“No problem. Give ’em hell, Lennon. We’ll back you up—you got no worries on that front.”
He pressed End and slid his phone in his pocket. “Any word on the burner.”
Kyra sat down on the bed and handed him the iPhone. “See for yourself.”
Eve: Drive-by guys okay. AI is a No Go per Chain of Command. Carlito OK for collateral damage. Prez and VP belong to us. We know location. Take down planned.
Trey: Okay. No locale 4 AI Prez & VP. If Carlito found, club will eliminate. TTYL.
Eve: Next time by box. Do NOT text unless 911.
“What did she say?” Kyra asked as she stared at Trey expectantly.
“We can’t take down Aztecas Infierno. They belong to the Feds. I can’t tell the guys about this…hell, we don’t even know where the hell Emilio and his brother are at the moment. I’ll handle the other shit…the guys responsible for the drive-by can be eliminated by us. After that happens, I gotta come clean to Cillian,” he explained as he raked his hands through his short hair.
“Are you sure about that?” She reached for his face with a soft hand and turned his head toward her. “Listen, I know it’s hard doing this but…if we tell Cillian what’s going on, that means you have to tell him your parents aren’t dead. What do you think happens then? You’re putting both our lives at risk, honey.”
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