Teller (Tarnished Souls MC Book 4)

by Dusty Lassetter

  “You are under arrest for the second-degree murder of Jose Lopez and Javier Rios…”

  Teller

  I quickly learn there is no stopping at our station here in town before getting transported to the police station in Austin. No, Kate Riggs is too desperate to get her hands on two club members. I’ve been reading all the latest articles about this power-hungry bitch. She hates anything MC, and has made a promise to the citizens of her county to get rid of the criminal bikers littering their streets. I think her issues with us are more personal than she lets on. Maybe she had a biker boyfriend that fucked her over, or a daddy that didn’t love her as much as he did the club? The details are fuzzy, but deep down I know my gut is right. That’s why as we pull into the garage that houses all their overly decorated cars, I know any argument I have will be pointless. Then, suddenly it hits me that I need to call my personal lawyer because I am no longer a member in a club. I am a lone wolf without a pack.

  The two officers in the front seat of the car look at one another, silently asking which one is going to retrieve me from the back, and the look in their eyes can’t be mistaken. Neither one of these pigs wants to take on the big bad wolf. Both of them are half my size. If they were smart they would both walk back here and lead me into the building together.

  It seems like it takes forever before the douche in the driver seat walks toward my door. He opens it as far as the hinges will allow him to, giving me plenty of room to scoot out on my own. When my feet hit the pavement, I almost want to fake an escape just to see what the man will do, but decide now is not the best time to push my luck.

  “Bring him to room five,” a young woman officer says while holding the door to the building open for all of us to walk through. Just as I am entering into a cold room filled with police and desks, I hear the sound of another car pulling in. It must be the vehicle Taz is in.

  “Kate will be there soon,” the lady says as I am lead past through the chaos that is their station. The urge to laugh is hard to compress when I walk by their breakroom and my nose is assaulted with the sugary sweet smell of donuts. This isn’t the first station I have been in that smells like this. I guess the saying is true. Cops love their donuts.

  “Someone will be here to question you shortly,” the officer undoing my cuffs says after we have entered the room assigned to me. His hands are a tad bit shaky, reaffirming my earlier thoughts. Travis County’s scale of hiring has been thinned out so much they have resorted to getting men that have no backbone. When my wrists are free, I quickly move my hands to the front of my chest and watch as the young cop flinches out of fear. If I had to place money on his age, I would say he’s no more than twenty-five years old. Which happens to be my age as well. However, you would never guess it by looking at me. The time I spent on the street and trying to survive a life most people would gladly kill themselves to be rid of has aged me well beyond my years. This man standing in front of me probably grew up with a normal family, full belly, and a warm bed to sleep in. He has no business trying to stand toe-to-toe with the likes of me.

  Moving to sit down on the uncomfortable plastic chair they have so generously provided, I ignore any further responses he may have toward my actions. He is not the officer I need to intimidate. Kate Riggs is the woman that seems to hold the power around here. In order for me to get out I need to convince her I can easily take that power away.

  “Marcus Williams, also known as Teller. Tell me, are the rumors true? Are you really a mute?” When sheriff Rigs first walks in, I am both repulsed by her attitude and attracted to her appearance. She’s tall for a woman, at least five-foot-eight, and has the curves needed to fill out that ridiculously ugly uniform. While all her deputies have their shirts buttoned up to the collar, she is taking a more daring approach by keeping the top two unfastened. Kate’s short black hair, cut into a layered bob, gives her enough edge to pull off the multiple piercings in her ears. Just looking at her proves my intuitions are right. She’s been a part of my world once before. Now she stands on the opposite side.

  “I knew that wouldn’t get you talking,” she replies to her own comments. Throwing a red folder down on the table in front of me, she then takes a seat at the opposite end of the table. Sitting directly across from me seems to have zero effect on her psyche.

  “It took a long time to get the DNA back on those two bodies we found in the charred remains of the night club you burned down in Austin. That, with the video proof of you and your buddy climbing out of a window, was all the evidence I needed. You feel like talking yet?”

  Her smug words are accompanied with pure confidence seeping through her coffee-brown eyes. I can sense the joy it brings her to have me sitting here. Turning my attention to the proof she’s laid out before me, I begin to flip through the many photos. There are a few showing the bodies recovered at the scene. Not that you can tell they are actual bodies. The only resemblance to humans they have are the teeth that refused to burn. Then, there are black and white images with a time and date stamped on the side of me and Taz getting Saint out of the burning building. They continue to follow us until we turn down a street that obviously had no surveillance.

  “You know, Teller, your brother, Junior, was lucky,” Kate says in a cocky tone. Hearing her say this makes the blood running through my veins grow cold. Does she really think that the three-inch badge on her shirt will protect her from someone like me? The low growl I let bubble up from my chest causes the arrogant look she was sporting to disappear.

  “What I mean is, because he was carried out of the building, I don’t have the evidence to prove he was awake when you and Taz set the fire. Him being shot was his get out of jail free card. Now, I’m willing to drop your murder charges if you are willing to testify against your VP in court. You tell everyone he killed the men, set the fire, and you had no choice but to follow your leader. The jury will take it easy on you, Marcus. Your mental health will attribute to your sentence as well. There isn’t a soul out there that doesn’t feel sorry for someone that was abused as a child.”

  “He’s not my VP,” I declare while watching her pupils dilate after hearing the harsh tone that is my voice.

  “Excuse me?” She responds in both shock that I can talk and that my voice sounds like the devil himself has somehow taken over my body.

  I don’t bother repeating myself. I know she heard me the first time. I am no longer a Tarnished Souls member, Taz is not my VP, and I have no loyalties to anyone but Saint. That is the cold hard truth.

  “Judging by that look in your eyes I would say they made that decision for you. After all your years of service to them, they kick you to the curb. There is nothing sweeter than revenge.”

  If only she knew how true those words were, and what I had done to achieve that not too long ago. By now, Slasher would have lost all oxygen and suffocated in that box buried in the Texas dirt. Revenge is sweet. Regardless of the price I paid to get it.

  “I want to call my lawyer,” I state, pleased to see that Kate’s premature smile of victory has fallen off her face after hearing my request.

  The clanking of the jailhouse doors being closed behind me reminds me of my childhood. I can’t count the number of times I was arrested for petty crimes. This time is different. I just signed a statement that will surely keep me here for a while. My lawyer says he thinks he can get the judge to give me the minimum sentence of three years for the arson. Kate Riggs, the cocky sheriff, thought she was going to get me to flip on Taz. The stupid cunt actually tried to use me as a pawn. It was then and there I knew her case wasn’t as strong as she proclaimed. If it were she would have never asked me to testify against my old VP. Instead of taking the bait, I talked to my lawyer and we made a better deal. She dropped the murder charges. Because Saint was shot, my attorney could argue it was self-defense. The only thing I was booked on was felony arson, and there was a stipulation to me signing that guilty plea. Taz was to be set free, and no charges were to be brought forward at a later date. It
was the right thing to do. He has a family to get back to. I have no one.

  “What’s your name?”

  I am being held in a cell with ten other men that are waiting to be processed through the system. The bald guy that just asked my name is one of the bigger men here, but my eyes look past him to find the biggest of them all. If there was one of Saint’s lessons that stuck with me, it was to take out the biggest man around to let everyone know you are afraid of nothing. Not only will my actions be talked about in this little jail, but when I am sentenced to prison, they will have already heard about the mute that never cowers. If there is one thing you can count on in prison, it’s the gossip that gets spread around quicker than an STD in a whore house.

  Finally, my eyes land on a man standing in the corner picking at his nails with a stick he somehow managed to get past the guards. He has one foot propped up on the wall and is leaning to the side like a drug dealer would be while standing on his corner of business.

  “You got a problem?” He mumbles out of the corner of his mouth, not bothering to look at me. The lack of respect for my presence tells me I made the right choice with my pick. Grabbing a handful of his long black hair, I make a quick grab at the stick he intends on stabbing me with. Once I have the object in my hand, I slam it down into the meaty flesh of his thigh. The injury won’t be anything more than a pain in the ass, depending on how dirty his nails were, but it’s sure to get my point across. I am now the man everyone in here should fear.

  “AARGH!”

  The sound of his howling pain is more than enough to cause a headache to start at the base of my neck. I’m running on little to no sleep, I have already tortured and buried one body today, and now I am having to claim dominance in this world of steel bars.

  “Everyone on the floor!” Several guards start to shout.

  Like the rest of the men, I follow the directions of the pigs in suits. I have no choice really. For the next three years, maybe more, they are the only ones that will have any say in what I do. Sure, once I get to prison there will be a few I can buy off, but not many. It will be those self-righteous pricks that I’ll have to be extra careful around. I’m not a fan of prison, and have no intentions on extending my stay further than what it needs to be. This little incident I just pulled will add more time onto my sentence, yet it couldn’t be avoided.

  “We’re moving you to a private holding cell,” an older obese guard says. The way his breathing becomes heavy just by talking should be indication enough that he has no business in this line of duty. Slapping the cuffs around my wrists, he tries to hoist me up, but doesn’t get too far before I decide to help him out.

  He leads me out of the room filled with men watching me exit in wonder and fear, just to bring me to a smaller holding cell that is empty. When he shuts himself inside with me, I immediately bulk up out of preparation for a fight. I don’t know what kind of shit this cop is into, but I’m not about to become his play thing.

  “Relax, would ya,” he mumbles, ending the sentence with a small laugh. “Tate wanted me to give you this.” As he takes off my shiny new bracelets I better get used to wearing, the guard places a piece of paper in my hand. Without another word, he exits the cell, securing the door behind him.

  Robert added me to your visitor list. Don’t refuse to see me tomorrow. I know how to help you.

  I instantly do the smart thing and rip the note into tiny pieces before flushing it down the shitter that was placed front and center in the cell. Had Tate not intrigued me by sending a message, I would have denied his visit request. What would the new President of the Blacktop Sinners want from me? Once our business concluded this morning, we had agreed to go our separate ways. I guess tomorrow morning I will find out what kind of help he has to offer, and why?

  Scarlett

  I’m not sure if this is one of my wisest decisions, but the nagging voice in my head isn’t going to shut up until I do what I came to. Buck’s office has finally quieted down after everything that went down yesterday. I think everyone’s world was turned upside down in the last twenty-four hours in some way, shape, or form. I know mine was several times. The whirlwind of events that took place can’t be made up. I was drugged by someone I trusted, beaten by a man I no longer have a reason to fear, I watched as Teller was kicked out of his club, and then arrested along with Taz. It was like being slapped in the face four times without any time to heal after the first blow.

  “Buck,” I gently state as I tap on his door before opening it without invitation to do so. I don’t want to be turned away, and in order for that not to happen I’m going to have to let my manners go for now.

  At the sound of my voice, he looks up from his computer he was busy typing on, to concentrate solely on me. There is a genuine smile pulling at his lips that helps ease some of the qualms I had about coming in here. The subject I dare to bring up is not one the members would see as my business. Regardless of Teller’s choices towards me or anyone else, I have come here on his behalf. No, he doesn’t know I’m here. How would he when he’s been imprisoned by the same system that failed to protect me my entire life.

  “Scarlett?” He replies in a questioning tone. The smile on his face never slips away, but his eyebrows do start to furrow when I take my time explaining what has brought me to his door.

  “I realize I am overstepping, but seeing as this entire situation involves me I thought it would be okay to do so.” I know the very second he realizes why I am here because his lips pull down into a frown and his eyes start to shine with sympathy. “I would like for you to give Teller his spot back in the club. I understand that emotions were running high yesterday, but everyone was able to see how loyal he is when he got Taz released.”

  Thankfully my tongue isn’t as swollen today as it was yesterday. Me sucking on ice cubes all night probably helped with that. I didn’t want to walk around with a pen and pad of paper just to make sure people could understand what I was trying to say. This situation has given me a new sense of sympathy for Teller.

  “Sit down, Scarlett,” Buck directs while pointing at a chair across from his desk. I walk around the large wooden table that takes up most the floor space in the room, and sit down on the chair he is still pointing at. “Out of all the men your dad lead, were there any that stuck around once he was gone?”

  I find the question odd, mainly because it has nothing to do with Teller, but I answer it honestly none the less. “There were some that left that night, but those are the only ones I know of. I wasn’t kept at the clubhouse very long after my dad was stabbed.”

  “So, would you say it’s safe to say Slasher probably surrounded himself with men that enjoyed the same sick things he did?”

  “Yes, but I don’t see what this has to do with why I’m here? “

  My confused tone and expression is hard to hide. I came here to get Teller his rightful place in this club back. I don’t understand how the conversation has gotten sidetracked to Slasher and his band of misfits. If anything, we should not be talking about a man that no longer lives to torture us. Teller was the one to make sure of that.

  “I’m just trying to make sense of the information I just received by someone on the inside. If it’s true, and I have no reason to believe this man is lying, I’m going to need all the help I can get.”

  “What information?”

  Placing both his hands down on the desk in front of him, Buck leans forward and stares into my eyes with a look of concentration that tells me I should pay close attention to everything he is about to say. Whatever he’s about to reveal will most likely be shocking, so I take a deep breath and nod my head when I am ready to hear the intel he’s been told.

  “Teller was visited by Tate, you obviously remember him, this morning. Just a few hours ago actually. One of the guards from the jail owes me a favor, and thought he might be able to repay it if he overheard the conversation going on between them. Tate offered to blackmail the judge, who he personally knows through contacts of Slasher.
My guess is that judge used to be one of their clients. Anyway, he offered to get Teller the best deal possible, but it would come at a cost. Apparently, Teller turned a lot of the Blacktop Sinners’ heads when he took out their president the way he did. Tate doesn’t want to be their new president, Hell, he doesn’t even want to be their VP. The members that were against Slasher asked Tate to get Teller on board.”

  “On board for what?” I interrupt, already knowing what he is about to say. I just wanted to delay his words because my brain can’t trust them as being true.

  “Teller is the new President of the Blacktop Sinners. Tate will lead from the outside, but it’s Teller’s word that is their new law. Our old brother, just became our new enemy.”

  “That’s not true,” I firmly state. “That is not true.”

  “I’m afraid it is, Scarlett.”

  I don’t bother responding further. I numbly get to my feet and begin walking out of Buck’s office in a trance. Teller, the man that took down my monster has now agreed to be the leader of said monster’s minions. The members of that club may not have been as smart as Slasher, but they were just as evil and vile. Did Teller feel that lost in the world that he took up with the only people to offer him a home. After everything he did for Taz, I though the club would allow him to get patched back in. Now, he has signed on to become the president of their rivals. He had to of known what would happen when he agreed. Teller had to of known that a war with Tarnished Souls, his friends, would be inevitable. There are still patched in Blacktop Sinners members that deserve to die for the things they’ve done. The men that grabbed Sammy and Rebecca are still out there.

  “Red, are you okay?”

  I hear Torch’s voice just before I feel him place his hand on my shoulder. The unsuspected touch brings me out of my trance, and immediately has me focusing on the man in front of me.