Swallowing, Lace drug her now sweaty palms down her jean clad thighs, trying to dry them. Relief flooded her when the light and sound clicked off, her voicemail kicking in. She had to do this on her own.
Not that Lace was afraid of anybody, certainly not Rev, despite his cutthroat and violent reputation. No one wanted to get chastised by the father club, or feel like they’re letting down someone who put their full trust in them.
Wait. Why was he calling her?
“Fuck,” she managed to breathe out, the hazel eyes locking onto the cell phone. He must’ve heard about how everything was a total cluster fuck. He was calling to chew her a new asshole, she knew it.
The cell phone lit up, vibrating and singing, the voicemail prompt ignored. Then again, Lace always answered when Rev called.
Picking up the phone, her thumb swept across the screen to accept the call. Setting it to her ear, she swallowed down her heart that currently sat in her throat. Her vocal chords were frozen, nothing was coming out as she listened silently.
“Lace?”
The deep, gritty baritone voice sent pure chills down her spine. Her mind wasn’t functioning, it was as if she’d lost every brain cell. It was a blank slate.
“I saw a raven,” Lace managed to blurt out, nearly tripping to get to her couch, sinking down in it. That was a code she and Rev had, that would tip him off that she had something serious to discuss. A forewarning of bad news and that his line needed to be secure, encrypted in case someone like RICO was listening in.
The line was silent for a moment, and then Rev’s voice broke through. “When it flies off, call me back.”
Lace hung up, tossing her phone to the coffee table. She had to rip the Band-Aid off, and get this over and done with. Scooping up her burner that Nytemare had done some sort of hi-tech encrypting on, she dialed his number.
It picked up on the first ring. “What’s going on, Lace?”
Taking in a deep breath, she let it out slowly. “I thought you were calling me because you heard.”
“Heard what?”
Shit. Rather than digging a deeper hole, assuming what he might have heard, Lace figured she’d ease into it, starting off with the good news. “The charity event sales are growing every day, we’ve had record profits at our fight club.”
“What did you do?”
Lace winced at his perception of her bull shit stall tactics. He knew her all too well. “Steel’s hurt. Real bad. We had an altercation with the Warriors and it’s got out of hand. Last night, there was a declaration of war. I’m holding church today to discuss stuff.”
“Do I need to send Crypt and Reaper your way?”
“No, not yet. I’ll handle it.” Lace pinched the bridge of her nose, resting her elbow on her knee as she spoke.
Rev pried her for more details, forcing Lace to come clean about several things, and how she handled the situations.
Before they hung up, his warning was clear. “Is there anything else I need to know about?”
Lace shook her head, even though he couldn’t see it through the phone, “No, that’s it.”
“Call me after church, I want to be kept informed of everything. You need to get your shit together. Back when you were here? None of this would’ve happened. I get we have to deal with other clubs and are under legal scrutiny, but the Lace I know would’ve never let Vader live through the night after the initial attack on her club. You won’t like it if I have to come there. Handle it.”
Lace wasn’t given the chance to reply, the line went dead.
Chapter 39
Gold Digger
Normally, Durty would’ve been nervous or maybe it was anxious, about the three-club church, but all of her focus was on Sting. They’d gone through hell and back with her emotional hang-ups, but he stuck it through, until she went totally mental. She’d never blame him for walking away that day, but now they were together, and she was going to hold onto that for everything it was worth.
It still was a shock to see how many red and silver were milling about. There must’ve been fifty to sixty bodies in the Rojas clubhouse, with several brothers and sisters unable to attend, due to work or being in the hospital. That was the only way one got out of attending mandatory meetings like this one.
Every Angel was there, white vests prominent in the sea of black leather. The meeting was for officers only, but there’d be smaller club meetings after the main was adjourned.
Laying her hand on Sting’s thigh, under the table, she looked over to the ever-smiling Jet. “Do you ever have a bad day?”
Jet’s emerald gaze lit with humor. “Sure, I just don’t let it get to me.”
Durty rolled her eyes, wagging her head. “No one can be in a good mood all the time. It’s unhealthy.”
Sting joined in their conversation after he drained his beer bottle of all its contents. “This man is a firm believer that the glass is always full.”
Rich laughter floated from Jet, motioning for a Shade to come change out their empties. “That’s right. Fuck being half full, that’s still pessimistic. Why let the bad shit get to you? Negativity breeds more negativity.”
He had a point. Durty had always been the glass half empty girl. Her life taught her that. Yet, here was a brother, who’d risen out of the ashes from nothing, and was one of the most generous, and lethal, men she knew. He’d no sooner give the shirt off his back, than see someone freezing.
That could only go so far. People tended to use men like Jet, though she’d never heard of one doing so.
“Here you go, doll.”
The feminine voice brought Durty out of her daydream, glancing to her left, at the Shade who stopped at their table. She was tall and statuesque, her blonde hair near platinum under the dim lighting of the bar area. She made a show of bending over, making sure her ample sized breasts in her push-up bikini top, was right in Sting’s line of sight, setting down his bottle of beer. The Shade swung her hips slowly back and forth, the Daisy Duke’s showing ample ass cheek to the staring Jet.
“Thanks, Barbie.” Sting nodded, handing her two-dollar bills for her service.
A small smile of enchantment touched Barbie’s pale pink lips, a long red nail trailed down Sting’s cheek in affection. Her voice purred, “Oh, any time, Sting. You need me, you know to get me.”
This bitch was getting way too familiar with her man, and Durty was going to kill her. God, how she hated the patch whores. Sure, they had their purpose, but they knew better than to come onto a club brother when their ol’lady was sitting right next to them.
She wasn’t one to use her power as a patch holder, but right now called for it. “Next time you come onto my ol’man, Barbie,” Durty snidely said the girl’s name, “Especially in front of me, I’ll be giving you a Glasgow smile.” Durty pulled out her switchblade, flicked it open, and slammed the point into the table, her eyes never leaving the now pale faced Barbie. “Do I make myself clear?”
Barbie nodded and hustled away from the table, not looking back.
“Really?” Sting shook his head disapprovingly.
“What?” Durty questioned innocently. Making a woman eat her blade wasn’t unheard of. Many ol’ladies used the Glasgow smile as a last resort. The knife was placed horizontally, sharpened side toward the corners of the mouth, and pressed down with enough force to slice through the flesh of both cheeks.
“Jesus, remind me not to piss you off, Durty.” Jet snorted, tilting back his bottle for a drink.
“Just trying to make sure my glass stays half full, Jet.” She winked at the bald-headed male.
“She was flaunting herself, I get that. They all do. But,” Sting chastised Durty. “She won’t be touching me. I don’t do strange, not like Jet here.”
“I know she won’t, I made sure that now, didn’t I?” Durty smirked, rather proud of herself for standing up for what was hers.
“Hey now,” Jet chuckled, pointing at Sting in retaliation. “Jus
t because I enjoy the company of different females, doesn’t mean I get some strange all the time.”
“Female companionship? Is that what they call it now-a-days?” Stiletto quipped as she paused at their table. “I’ll be sure to let my girls know that, Jet.”
Rubbing his bald head fondly, Stiletto motioned to the chapel room. “It’s time to go in. I need your cell phone, Durty.”
Durty reached into her cut, producing her cell to turn it off. Handing it to Stiletto, she pushed up and away from the table. “Nice talking to you, Jet.”
“I’m sure I’ll see you after the meeting, girlfriend. We got that grill going in the back. Duke is serving up some seriously mean meat.”
Durty nodded to T-Rex, who followed Stiletto on his own rounds of collecting the officer’s various cells phones before they entered the sacred meeting room.
Before she entered into the room, Stiletto strolled up beside her, bumping her hip against hers. “Dude, that was epic. Glasgow smile? That’s something I’d say. I must be rubbing off on you.”
Durty snickered, lacing her arm through Stiletto’s. “Didn’t you see my new bracelet? WWSD? What Would Stiletto Do?”
Stiletto’s laughter was infectious as they moved deeper into the room, finding their seats next to Stellar, Curby, and Flames.
Relaxing into her chair, Durty kicked out her feet, taking stock of everyone in the room. It may have only been fourteen people, but the table was crowded for the impending information Lace was going to divulge. On one side, the Rojas lined up with Butcher as proxy and acting President for Steel, who was recovering in San Diego with a punctured lung and three broken ribs. Alongside him was T-Rex, their Sergeant-at-Arms, Sting as their Road Captain, and Rusty with the tablet for note taking, being their Secretary. Revelations had Nytemare and Chaos sitting on the opposite side of Durty, Star, their Sergeant, with their Road Captain, Nior, who looked bored. Last but not least was their Secretary, Salem.
Lace cleared her throat. “I’m calling the meeting to order.”
One of the sergeants was to call it to order, but this was too big to follow protocol, plus, with Lace outranking everyone in the room, it was her call.
“I just want to say thank you to Sting and Stiletto, for bringing Viper back home safely. I know we never got a chance to talk about it with how chaotic everything got and then the funeral, what happened over there?”
Durty didn’t want the grisly details of what transpired. She’d seen how bloody Stiletto was and it shook her to the bone.
Stiletto gave a nonchalant shrug, clearing her throat. “The objective was to get in and get her out. If we’d had more time, I could’ve had more fun with them.”
Lace’s brows shot up, “More fun?”
Stiletto smiled. “Yeah, there wasn’t enough time for me to even use my favorite blade.” She reached into her cut, slowly pulling out a blade that would make Rambo jealous. It was curved and serrated, with a bone handle.
Whose bone, Durty didn’t want to know.
Lace smirked with a shake of her head. “Well, at least Viper will be home tomorrow. Steel is doing great and will be home in time for our charity event. Thank you everyone for supporting us. Now, I talked to Rev this afternoon and he’s not exactly happy with us at the moment. He’s given us a week to take care of this situation or he’ll be coming here.”
Nytemare cringed, rocking back in her chair. “Rev said that?”
Lace snorted. “No. That was the nice version. What he said was he’d be coming here and ripping patches off and leveling this town. I don’t want to see that happen, so we need to decide on how we’re going to handle this.”
Butcher placed his hands on the table, looking around at every member sitting there. “Vader doesn’t take hints very well. If we want him removed, we’re going to have to do it ourselves, by force.”
T-Rex joined in. “Just send Rambo over there with her knives to end it.”
Durty shook her head, seeing where this was headed. “They’re going to be expecting us to retaliate. They’ll have look outs and everything else.”
Sting chimed in, agreeing with her. “Vader will be holed up. He knows with Cobra dead, we’ll be coming for him.”
“So, how about we give them a week to disband the Warriors and leave town? We don’t cross into their territory and they don’t come into ours,” Butcher said.
“The problem with that is, we already had a truce with them, and they’ve violated that by showing up to the KO Corral,” Stiletto muttered.
“That might be the case.” Lace sighed. “But, if they don’t leave, we’ll go in a wipe them out. Either way, they’ll be gone by Saturday. If Rev comes, and this thing turns into an all-out blood bath, we won’t have a place to call home anymore. Bronson will make sure of that. He’ll arrest anyone who’s on a bike, just for shits and giggles. Business will go downhill, and everyone will suffer. No more gambling rings, no more fight clubs, no more Rojas, Angels, nothing.”
Durty didn’t like the idea of war, but it was a necessary evil. Something that wasn’t avoidable. “It’s us or them.”
“Exactly.” Lace leaned back, looking directly at Durty. “Call him.”
Brows shot up in mild surprise, but confusion as well. “Him? Who?”
“You’re brother.”
Her face fell, not liking being reminded that the douche bag was related to her, on top of the fact everyone was now staring at her, their jaws on the floor. “You call him.”
Lace’s head tilted slightly to the left, a single brow arching at Durty’s defiance. “One, he’s not my brother. Two, he won’t answer me. Get your phone and call him. Put him on speaker when he answers. I won’t ask again.”
Durty bit back the growl forming, even if she understood why Lace was having her do the dirty work. Didn’t mean she had to like it. Stiletto handed over her phone, turning it back on. Still feeling all eyes on her, she looked up at the crowded room. “Don’t look at me that way. Not like I knew the piece of shit was my half-brother until yesterday.”
Dialing his number, which he gave her before she left out in a hurry from the lawyer’s office, he answered on the third ring.
“What do you want?”
Lace licked her lips. “This is Lace, Vader. It wouldn’t be wise for you to hang up.”
Durty placed the phone onto the table, scooting it in Lace’s direction.
“Listen up and listen good. You tried to get rid of me and failed. We had a truce, which you broke. We’re not going to wait around for your next plan to fail and be a bitch and run with your tail between your legs. You lose. Disband and leave town. When I get up for my coffee on Saturday morning, I better get a call that the Warriors have disappeared. Otherwise, by the time I set my coffee down, I’ll declare open season on anyone wearing orange or sporting a Warriors cut. Until then, there’d better not be anyone crossing territories. If someone does, you won’t have to worry about them leaving town. TTFN.” Lace hit the disconnect button and slid Durty’s phone back to her.
Chaos laughed softly. “You know that pissed him off.”
Rusty spoke, his brogue thick, and difficult to understand at times. “Do you think he’ll actually leave?”
“No, I don’t, but I think this will throw a wrench in whatever his newest plan is.” Lace smirked, crossing one leg over the other.
Durty plucked her phone up from the table, slipping it back into her cut. “We have an ace up our sleeve if he doesn’t.”
Lips twitched into a smile. “That’s right. I’ve already got the backup plan in the works. It’s a failsafe, that’s for sure.”
Nytemare cleared her throat, rapping her knuckles against the table. “Lace, with Stiletto going to see Viper and bringing her home tomorrow, and with the way everything is going, you’re not exactly left protected. No offense, Stiletto.”
“None taken.”
Nytemare nodded, turning back to Lace. “Revelations wants to patch o
ver.”
Chapter 40
Go To War
“Seriously? After everything, you guys—” Durty stood next to Sting in total shock.
Xander was in a prospect cut.
A small lift of his shoulders, Sting’s lips pressed together in a thin line, breathing in before he spoke. “I know.” Crossing his arms, he rested back onto a bar stool. “I guess Steel and Butcher decided it was for the best. Keep your enemies close, maybe?”
Every male in Domino was in a cut. They weren’t going to take any chances with the Warriors coming in, not after Lace called and threatened Vader.
Durty shuddered. Being related to him was still unbelievable. She knew her father wasn’t exactly picky about his indiscretions, but Vader’s mom? Her nanny? That took the cake. No wonder Vader was a miserable prick. He hadn’t lived in the greatest places, fatherless and depending on the scraps of others. She’d have turned into a quintessential bitch herself. She couldn’t blame him, but on the other hand, he could’ve picked himself up, dusted off his own ass, and set his life straight. After spending the past few days with him at the bank, she’d come to the realization he wasn’t stupid. There’s a difference between the legalities of running a bank, knowing about accounts and the logistics of it all. Any financial weaknesses he showed was because of arrogance and ignorance, not lack of intelligence. He had a business mind, even if it was cutthroat and diabolical.
“I guess,” she muttered, her eyes never leaving Xander as he moved through the bar, carrying a box of liquor to the back. She couldn’t help but notice he’d recently taken a beating by the tell-tale signs of a fat lip and black eye, along with very stiff movements. “I still wouldn’t trust him as far as I could throw him, and that isn’t very far.”
Amusement flickered in the eyes that met hers, a trace of laughter in his voice. “I’m not putting stock in that any more. I always seem to underestimate you girls.”
Policy of Truth (Sacred Heart Continuum Series Book 1) Page 26