I’d killed someone last night, and it had scarred me – probably for life.
Benjy could go to prison for what he did… but I wasn’t going to sign off on his execution, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to participate. I had enough scars.
“Benjy – crawl over here!” I screamed at him as I fired at the bikers.
His face lit up with relief, and he started crawling back towards the truck.
Forty feet…
Thirty feet…
Jack got to his feet and hid behind the truck door, waiting for a lull so he could fire the rocket from a standing position.
“Where is he?!” Jack yelled.
I looked over the door as I returned fire.
Twenty feet away.
“He’s almost here!” I shouted.
Benjy was so close to the truck that I could see the hope in his eyes. The realization that maybe he was going to make it.
Ten feet away –
That was when Lou killed him.
133
It was a coward’s shot. Five bullets in the back.
Benjy’s body jerked like he’d been plugged into an electrical outlet, then lay still. I could see the back of his denim jacket slowly turning red.
“NOOOO!” I screamed.
“What?!” Jack shouted.
“Lou shot him! He shot him in the back!”
Seconds later, Lou appeared at the very back of the pack of bikers. He cranked the engine on his motorcycle, then swung it around with the meth cook riding bitch. They roared off down the dirt road as the three remaining Midnight Riders kept shooting at us.
“Jack, hurry – he’s getting away!” I screamed.
Jack spun around and fired the rocket blindly, without time to aim.
I felt the blast of heat again, saw the plume of fire, the line of smoke –
The rocket roared through the air and hit one of the motorcycles in the front.
The Harley disintegrated in a ball of flame and twisted metal.
The gunfire stopped.
Jack had spun back behind the truck door with me. Now we peeked over the shot-out window, waiting to see what happened.
The entire row of motorcycles was obliterated and the dirt was on fire with gasoline. Not a single biker was to be seen.
“I think you got them,” Kade said wryly.
“Everybody okay?” Jack called out.
“I’m fine,” I said, although it really only applied physically. As I stared at Benjy’s body, my heart felt beaten to a pulp.
“Not exactly,” Kade said.
We looked over at him. The lower half of his white t-shirt was red, and he was clutching his side with bloodstained fingers.
“Shit!” Jack exclaimed, and ran around the truck. “How bad are you hit?”
“I’ll live.”
“Sid – get over here now!” Jack yelled out.
“No need to shout,” Sid groused.
While Jack attended to Kade, I approached Benjy’s body slowly, almost in a trance.
He lay face-down in the dirt, the back of his faded denim jacket soaked red.
I knelt down beside him. So much sorrow… so much pain… and this was where it had all led.
I wondered if he had a mother or father somewhere, sisters or brothers, who would grieve for him the way I had for Ali.
I reached out one unsteady, trembling hand to touch him –
And jumped in terror as he gasped for breath.
“JACK, he’s still alive!” I cried out.
Jack came running and turned Benjy over onto his back as gently as he could.
Tears covered Benjy’s face and mixed with the dust in muddy splotches.
“I – I’m – s-sorry, J-Jack,” he gasped as his breathing grew more ragged. His eyes searched ours, maybe for forgiveness.
“Benjy… did you really shoot Ali?” Jack asked.
He was hoping against hope that Lou had lied. That Benjy had just been a useful dupe.
I knew because I was hoping that, too.
My fears were confirmed, though, when Benjy’s eyes filled with tears.
“I’m… sorry…”
The air escaped in a hiss from his lungs. His body and face relaxed, and the life left his eyes.
He was gone.
“Shit,” Jack whispered.
Maybe I should have been glad.
I knew who had pulled the trigger, even if Lou had been pulling the strings.
And her killer was dead.
But I felt no comfort… only hollowness.
I thought that knowing would give me closure. I thought that the killer’s punishment or death would give me peace.
Unfortunately, there was none of that. Only the realization that nothing would make her death right. She had been taken from me, and there was a hole in my heart that nothing was ever going to heal.
“Guys, meet me at the road so we can get the hell out of here,” Sid said over my earpiece. “Lou musta called the cops – I got ‘em on the police scanner. They’re comin’.”
“We’ll meet you there,” Jack agreed. Then he grabbed my hand and guided me away from Benjy’s body.
134
Even with a flat tire and a thousand bullet holes in it, the truck got us to the road. Jack avoided the flaming debris of the blown-up Harleys by going around the other side of the house, where we saw the body of the Midnight Rider that Sid had taken out with one shot.
As promised, Sid was waiting for us in his Oldsmobile. I got into the front. Jack helped Kade into the back seat, where he lay down and kept pressure on his wound. Jack threw the remaining bag of guns in the trunk, then climbed into the back with his friend.
We took off down the road in the opposite direction from civilization and the approaching cops.
Sid glanced in the rearview mirror. “Jesus – how bad is it?”
Kade grimaced. “…not good.”
It was the first time he’d departed from his standard I’ll be fine stoicism.
Jack looked worried as hell to hear it. I know it scared me.
Not Sid, though. “Try not to bleed all over my car,” he grumbled.
It was more of an ironic joke to break the tension, because there was blood fucking everywhere.
Kade played along, though. “Yeah, that’s my first priority,” he said in a deadpan voice.
“Stop talking,” Jack commanded, then turned to Sid. “We’ve got to get him to a hospital, now.”
“Not in Richards,” Kade said.
“Or anywhere near it,” Sid agreed.
“We can’t take a chance driving to Bakersfield or LA,” Jack snapped.
“You were the head of a fuckin’ motorcycle gang – didn’t you have a gunshot doctor or somethin’?” Sid asked.
“Back in the day, yeah, but he’s Lou’s friend, not mine,” Jack said. “He’s not going to help us.”
Sid glanced in the rearview mirror again. “I know a guy in LA who might be able to help.”
“Is he a doctor?” Jack asked.
“Ex-vet. Poker buddy of mine.”
“Ex-Marine?”
“No – ex-veterinarian. Midlife crisis, got a 20-year-old girlfriend, she convinced him to give her some Special K – ketamine,” Sid explained helpfully. “It’s a horse tranquilizer.”
“I know what Special K is,” Jack said, irritated.
“Anyway, she sold it at a rave and got busted. He lost his license and did some time.”
“Oh, yeah, can I please go see a disbarred veterinarian,” Kade said, his voice exactly the same as always.
“Unlicensed,” Sid corrected him.
“Guys,” I said. I’d already pulled out my phone. “What about the DEA?”
“Oh yeah,” Jack said, suddenly remembering we weren’t entirely on our own.
“I’d rather take my chances with the horse doctor,” Kade said.
“It’ll be fine,” Jack reassured him.
Sid made a face. “Are we sure about that?”
>
“What other choice do we have?” Jack asked.
“Well – ”
“We are not entrusting his life to a drug-dealing veterinarian,” Jack snapped.
“Just to a federal agency that might put me in prison for life,” Kade said.
“It’ll be fine,” Jack repeated, and clamped his hand on Kade’s shoulder in a show of manly affection. “You’re part of the deal – you get to walk.”
“IF we get Lou, the Santa Muertes, and the Richards PD,” Kade reminded him.
“We will.”
“Given our track record over the last 30 minutes, I’m not so sure about that anymore.”
“I think you’re better off with the horse doctor,” Sid said.
“Guys?” I said impatiently. “We need to make a decision.”
“It’s the kid’s life – he should be the one to decide,” Sid insisted. “Whaddaya say, kid?”
No answer.
I turned around in my seat to look back at Kade.
His eyes were closed. His face was pale white, and he was barely breathing.
“He’s passed out,” Jack said.
“Shit,” Sid muttered.
Jack looked at me. I could feel the fear coming off him in waves.
“Call the DEA,” he said.
135
Lou
When I dropped Einstein off at the Seven Veils, the goddamn pussy was shaking like a leaf. I locked him in my office with a bottle of scotch, told him to drink until he felt better, then left to go meet up with Peters.
As I drove back, I could see the smoke from the barn from two miles away. It made me fucking sick. And enraged.
God DAMN Jack Pollari. A year of preparation, close to a hundred grand, and all my fuckin’ plans down the drain.
I was going to kill that motherfucker. Slowly, and very fuckin’ painfully.
First thing I saw was about ten police cruisers and the shot-up pickup out front on the road. Guess Jack’d driven it down so they didn’t have to walk it on foot – especially since I think Wild Bill clipped Kade.
Good. I hoped that asshole was dead.
I passed on by and pulled up to the main house where Peters was waiting for me.
Behind him, a fire engine was spraying down what remained of the barn. They’d already put out the blown-up Harleys, and the firemen were inspecting the wreckage.
I was pissed about that, too – Jack blowing up some of my best men. Although they were a helluva a lot more replaceable than my fuckin’ meth lab.
What really stuck in my craw was how they’d one-upped me, taking out Chuck like that over at the corner of the house. I’d thought for sure I had them with that one. We’d let Chuck off at the road and he hoofed it to the house while we rode up and then stalled. Chuck was the best shot in the club. He was supposed to take them out before they knew what was going on.
Jack must have had somebody up in the hills, though, with eyes on the scene.
Motherfucker.
And where the fuck did he get a fuckin’ rocket launcher? They weren’t exactly expensive, but they weren’t somethin’ you picked up at Walmart, neither.
I swore I was going to get some answers before I tortured the prick to death.
Unfortunately, I had other problems at the moment. For one, Peters had a stick jammed about two feet up his tightly puckered asshole.
“Lou,” he said as I got off my bike, “this is a problem.”
“Goddamn right it’s a problem. Jack Pollari blew up my fuckin’ property with a goddamn rocket launcher.”
“That’s the least of your worries. There’s body parts all over the place from the explosion, for God’s sake. And that kid who got shot in your club last month is dead.”
“I know,” I said with a fake head-shake of regret. “Jack shot him in the back.”
“Did he,” Dan said sarcastically.
I didn’t like this little dipshit’s tone of voice. “Yeah. He did.”
Of course we both knew that Jack Pollari would never shoot a man in the back – but the asswipe wasn’t supposed to call me on that.
Dan leaned in and whispered angrily, “And why didn’t you tell me you had a meth lab going?”
“A meth lab?” I asked, barely bothering to act shocked. “What?”
“Knock off the bullshit. Why didn’t you tell me?”
He was starting to piss me off. “You’ll get your cut when the time’s right.”
Dan looked around like the boogeyman was at his elbow. “Are you crazy?” he hissed as he eyed his patrolmen and detectives, trying to make sure nobody had overheard.
“Oh, Jesus Christ, Dan – every whore and pot dealer in Richards knows the cops are on the take. Hell, if anybody here on my property right now isn’t on the take, I gotta question your fuckin’ judgment.”
“I have to keep up appearances,” he snarled.
“I don’t give a fuck about appearances. What I do give a fuck about is results. Now why don’t you go do your job and track down Jack, his bitch, and that cocksucker Kade?”
“The fire department knows it was a meth lab, Lou. I’m supposed to report this to the EPA, Sacramento, the DEA – ”
The mention of the DEA sent a cold shiver down my spine. “You ain’t reportin’ shit.”
“This property is contaminated now, Lou! It’s considered a toxic waste site, and it’s supposed to be condemned!”
“I don’t think the owner’s gonna make too much of a ruckus,” I said sarcastically.
“You don’t understand – the normal stuff I do as part of our agreement is one thing. This is entirely different.”
“Like I said – you’ll get your cut when it’s time.”
“And when were you going to let me know?” Dan asked angrily.
With Dan, that’s always what it came down to. Money.
“When you did the regular job I pay you for, you stupid fuck. If you’d done what I said and actually caught them, none of this – ”
I pointed at the barn.
“ – would have happened. I should make you work off every single dollar you cost me, you incompetent dumbass.”
He turned red as a beet. “You better watch yourself, Lou.”
“Or what?” I sneered.
“You think just because of our prior business relationship that I – ”
I stepped up right in his face. “This is a hell of a time for you to be growing a pair, Dan.”
He immediately backed away. He was afraid of me, yeah, but he was still plenty pissed.
“Look,” I said, trying to bring it down a notch. “Tensions are high. Some bad shit went down. Let’s keep this professional, okay?”
“This is going to cost you, Lou,” Peters said. He wasn’t man enough to be outwardly aggressive, so instead he was sniveling like a resentful little bitch.
“Yeah – it always does. Now, how soon can you get finished here and get everybody the fuck off my property?”
He apparently forgot his anger and stared at me in wide-eyed bewilderment. “What are you talking about? This is an active crime scene! A multiple murder scene, with a meth lab that needs to be cleaned up!”
I leaned in close. “You wanna get paid? Then get the fuck off my property.”
“How the hell is getting off your property going to – ”
“Because there’s a couple hundred pounds of meth buried out there in 55-gallon drums. I need my boys to come in and dig it out so I can sell it, make enough money to restart the business, and pay important business partners like you,” I said contemptuously.
I saw a light go on in Dan’s eyes. He was considering fucking me over, digging up the stash, and selling it off so he could keep all the money for himself.
I cut him off at the pass. “Before you go plotting out your retirement in the Caribbean, I think you should know the Santa Muertes are gonna be pretty fuckin’ pissed when they don’t get their shipment on time. Or from their expected connection.”
The light in h
is eyes flickered out.
“…the Santa Muertes?” he asked hoarsely.
“Yup.”
“What the hell are you dealing with them for? Aren’t they supplied through the cartels?”
“I made them a better offer. Now… how soon are you gonna get off my fuckin’ property so I can get to work? Or do you want your boys digging it up for me, seeing as how they practically work for me anyway?”
Peters kept them onsite for another eight hours, then roped the whole place off in yellow tape and called it a day.
That’s when my crew came in.
136
Fiona
Kade lay on a collapsible stretcher with an IV in his arm and bloody bandages over his side. They were prepping him for a helicopter that was going to fly him to LA. They said it was routine, that he wouldn’t require surgery, and not to worry… but it was still fucking scary.
Jack stood next to me, his arm circled around my waist. Sid was over by the door, his arms crossed grumpily. Agent Fordham watched us all as a couple of medics futzed with Kade’s setup.
“You’re a very lucky man,” one of them said.
“That’s what they always tell me when I get shot,” Kade said, deadpan.
The medic didn’t take kindly to the sarcasm. “I’m serious. It’s bad enough as it is, but if the bullet hit you a few inches over, this story could have had a very different ending.”
“Hooray for this ending, then.”
Steam was almost coming out of the medic’s ears. “Look here – ”
“Could you not argue with the patient, and just get him on the fuckin’ helicopter?” Fordham asked, in a way that made it clear it wasn’t a request but a command.
The medic and his buddy sheepishly took their places and were about to wheel him out –
“Wait,” Jack said and walked over. He clasped Kade’s hand in his fist. “You take care of yourself, you hear me?”
“Ahhh, it’s nothin’,” Kade said sleepily. The painkillers were starting to catch up with him. “‘S gonna be… a cakewalk…”
“Yeah,” Jack said, and nodded. “Definitely.”
“Bye, Fiona,” Kade said as the medics lugged him out.
Midnight Obsession: A Midnight Riders Motorcycle Club Romance Part 4 Page 30