by Jayne Blue
“Bo?” I looked over at Bo. His evidence was critical and the first concrete shit we had against a man I knew was fucking us over.
E.Z.’s manipulation of Bo had led to him losing a huge part of his life with us, and with his woman. Worse, a son he didn’t know he had was born and raised for years without a Dad. All thanks to E.Z.
Bo lifted his phone.
“As you know, E.Z. had me out of town, for years, because he said I would be implicated by police and The Hawks for the deaths of two low levels, Arnie and Dougie. Thing was, E.Z. did those killings and admitted to me.”
Bo hit play on his phone and there was E.Z.’s voice:
““You’ve got to be kidding me. You’re telling me to run? Again?”
“You’re damn right. If you know what’s good for you. If I were you, I wouldn’t be telling your crew about it either.”
“Don’t be fucking stupid. Get out. Get on the road. Go do what you do, bang heads.”
“Even though you’re the one who killed Dougie and Arnie?”
“Of course, I fucking did. When people come at my club, I handle it. I neutralize the threat. They were trying to blackmail The Dark Saints. I showed them and all The Hawks exactly what happens when you do that.”
“And you let me take the fall.”
“You didn’t take the fall.”
“E.Z. killed Arnie and Dougie because they had evidence that he was working with The Hawks. They threatened to reveal what he was doing,” Bo continued. E.Z. stared daggers into Bo, but Bo didn’t blink.
“Deacon, you want to add to the story?” I said.
Deacon was universally respected. He was the last member added to our covert operation to get proof that E.Z. was a rat.
“Yes. I asked Bear and E.Z. to hide Beth, my old lady, from the Cartel, from The Hawks. I didn’t even know where she was. I thought it was the only way to protect her. And I trusted that E.Z. would keep her as safe. I bargained my life for hers and E.Z. was the banker.”
We all knew the story, though vaguely, about Deacon’s woman. No woman was allowed at the table, so this time Deacon lifted his phone.
On it was a video of Beth, the love of his life. She quietly outlined E.Z.’s role in her life.
“Ezekiel Watson was the only face from The Saints that I’d ever seen or had contact with in ten years. When I was attacked, recently, it came to light that they were tipped off to my location by E.Z.”
Deacon stopped the video.
“E.Z. gave up my woman; she could have been killed. He may be doing this for money or power, but I don’t care about his reasons. My old lady almost died, and it was because of him.”
Deacon wasn’t one to beef with anyone. He was the peacemaker. But he looked, in that moment, like he hated E.Z. more than even Bo did.
The final piece would come from a Hawk named Hex and was what would rip the club apart, or save it.
“Hex, Arnie’s brother, got a little more for us in the way of proof.”
I pulled several pictures out of my jacket pocket.
And there they were, with a telephoto lens, for the entire club to see.
The pictures showed E.Z. exchanging money – cash – with A.J. Moss, the Prez of the Laredo Chapter of the Devil’s Hawks. Our chief rival. Our enemy.
“These were taken over the last several months.”
“Fuck you. I’m trying to broker a peace with the Prez of The Hawks, something all you motherfuckers said you wanted.”
“A.J Moss was giving you money to broker peace, that’s the biggest load of shit yet,” Kade chimed in. He was one second away from leaping across the table at E.Z.
“You don’t know shit,” E.Z. said and he was clearly ready to blow. But it wasn’t Kade I was trying to convince. It was the whole club. It was Bear.
I had presented undeniable evidence that E.Z. had lied. That he’d put us all in danger. That he’d given up our families. And I think I’d showed that he’d done it over and over again.
“What do you have to say?” Bear was in some strange no man’s land between anger and hurt.
When you’re betrayed on this level, it isn’t just one emotion. It’s a mess of them.
“I was trying to show you all that I am the rightful Prez of this club. You know I’m right. We’re at war now with the Hawks, aren’t we, and we’re losing thanks to you, Bear. You’ve let Hawks slide into Port Az a little at a time. You’ve made deals. You’ve negotiated. Fuck that. Worse, you let Saints put their women above the club. That’s how we lose, weakness. You’re weak, Bear. This war is on you. Yeah, I was working with The Hawks, but I was doing it to strengthen The Saints. I did what I did because if you stay at the head of the table, there’ll be no more Dark Saints.”
Bear grit his teeth. I saw the muscle in his jaw pop out.
But he didn’t respond to E.Z.’s tirade. He sat, like a mountain, immovable, and in control. E.Z. wanted power, he wanted a reaction, and he wanted a fight. He always wanted a fight. Instead, Bear gave him a sharp strike of the gavel.
“Time for a vote. Based on what Shep, Bo, and Deacon have shown us. And E.Z.’s, uh, argument. All in favor of removing E.Z. Watson from The Dark Saints MC?”
Bear locked eyes with E.Z. and Bear’s opinion was clear. There was hate between them now when before, it was mutual respect. Well, my Dad respected E.Z. We now knew what E.Z had thought of him.
“Eye.” I voted first, it was no surprise what I thought since I’d brought this evidence in. I’d hated E.Z.’s manipulation and black heart. My opinion of E.Z. had been clear these last few months. I hated him. The question was, had we done enough to cut the cancer out of The Saints?
Axle, Bo, Deacon, and Maddox were also easily in favor of removing E.Z. Kade voiced his eye. Then the room was quiet. It seemed to take forever.
Chase, Domino, Benz, and Zig all said “Aye.” And then the room: in unison, at least twenty Saints said “Aye.”
“E.Z. Watkins is kicked out of The Dark Saints immediately by unanimous vote. He is leaving as a member in bad standing.”
E.Z. stood up and walked to the door, slowly. No one moved. Everyone held their tongues and their fists.
As he got to the door, Bear spoke again.
“Leave your leather, or I’ll come over there and cut that patch off myself.”
E.Z. reached for his jacket. It was all in slow motion. Watching this happen felt very different than what I’d imagined. Even though I hated E.Z., he was still a brother. He was still a Dark Saint and he’d betrayed us all. He’d done his worst against all of us who’d sworn loyalty to him and with him.
What happened next was a blur. Instead of pulling his jacket off, he pulled a piece out of his waistband.
E.Z. got off a shot before anyone could stop him. Bear gasped, and blood billowed from the wound immediately. By the time we all registered what E.Z. had done, he’d run out of the Church room and through the bar.
Several members swarmed to Bear, and I heard Maddox yell, “Get Mama Bear, NOW!”
I was torn between rushing to my Dad and stopping the man that did this. Revenge won, and I ran after E.Z. I wasn’t going to let him get away with doing this.
He hadn’t gotten far.
He also knew there was no way he’d outrun the full club on his ass.
So E.Z. had a Plan B. He always did.
“You better stop right there, Sonny Boy.”
I processed what I was seeing. E.Z. was behind the bar, and he had our new bartender, JJ, by the arm with a gun to her temple.
“I’m going to leave the MC right now and if you fucking move against me, this sweet little piece of ass will have her brains blown all over the bar.”
I had no doubt E.Z. would do it.
3
JJ
* * *
I heard a popping noise and then a man in leather burst from the hall. What the hell? I had no time to dive under the bar or really react at all. The man had a gun pointed at my face.
“Fr
eeze.” And just as fast as he said it, he scrambled over the bar and had me by the arm. The barrel of his piece now made a dent in my temple. All of this took less than fifteen seconds from the fist pop to the shit I was now in.
“You be a smart gash now and keep your fucking mouth shut and follow my lead.”
The man dug his fingers into the flesh of my arm. It hurt but I dared not even wince.
An army of leather jackets rushed into the middle of the bar but the man stopped them from getting too close. By yelling.
“Don’t fucking try it!”
They all had guns trained on me and my captor.
I heard something about my brains being blown all over the bar. Shit. No one of them even knew me. I didn’t know them. I had no doubt I was nothing but the help to all of them.
None of these men had any connection to me. I had no hope. I was a dead woman standing. This fucking asshole had shot someone in that room and was using me as a shield, not a hostage.
Then I recognized Shep. He’d flirted with me. Maybe that was something. He put his hands out to stop the rest of the biker onslaught.
“Stop, Saints! Stop!” They all did as he said and then he looked at me. I felt like he was trying to communicate with me, maybe reassure me? Or was that what I wanted to think? I just knew I was scared. Less than a day’s work as A.J. Moss’s mole and I was going to wind up dead.
“I’m going to back out of here, nice and easy, and you’re all going to let me,” E.Z. said with steely calm.
“E.Z., let her go. She had nothing to do with this,” Shep said. E.Z. had me at gunpoint but it felt like Shep was the boss in this room. The Saints were following his lead. For me, that could mean survival.
“Nah, you’re not going to let this fresh thing get hurt, Shep. None of you are.” E.Z. tugged me along. We moved closer and closer to the door.
Shep tried to take a step forward and E.Z. screamed at him.
“Don’t fucking try it!”
He moved his hand from my arm to my throat. I thought I’d gag or pass out from how tight it was. But that gave him a buffer. The rest of the club members froze in place. E.Z. dragged me to the door.
We headed for a burnt orange truck in the parking lot. I knew one thing. I was not letting him take me anywhere. He would have to shoot me here versus wherever else he had in mind. I might be small – hell, young too – but I was smart enough to know, if he got me alone, this man would have no choice but to kill me.
We got closer and closer to the truck. My mind raced. How could I get free with a gun to my head, without risking a bullet fired into my brain?
I was going to have to risk getting shot here. It seemed preferable than dying in some shitty ditch on a Texas backroad.
He had me at the passenger door. He kept a firm grip on one arm and the gun was now at my side. I saw the door of the club open and the bikers emerge. E.Z. had a moment of distraction, and that was my window.
I reached for the door handle but then, as fast and as hard as I could, I used my free hand to jab my finger in the man’s eye.
“Ugh,” E.Z. yelled and let go of my arm. I bolted. I heard a shot. It was loud. There was a ringing in my ears, but I didn’t care. I ran as fast as I could away from that man and his truck. I ran toward the MC and didn’t look back.
Dust kicked up everywhere and I knew E.Z. had decided not to chase me. If he was smart, he was driving in the opposite direction of the club. I didn’t know any of these men, but each one was bigger and badder than the next.
Saints were rushing toward me and I could only pick out one face.
Shep. His name was Shep. He was handsome, powerful, and had a beautiful smile. And he seemed like he gave a damn even though I was a stranger.
He got to me first and held my arms in his.
“JJ, oh my God. Are you okay?”
This man that I’d just met, all leather and muscle and swagger, looked at me like I was a China Doll, not the ex-con tough girl I was on the outside.
“I’m okay, what was…?”
“Shit, you’re bleeding sweetheart.”
I had no idea where or why. I looked down and saw a dark stain on my t-shirt.
I put my hand to it. The blood was bright red and coming from my side. It didn’t really hurt.
“What?”
“That fucker shot you!”
Shep scooped me up in his arms like I weighed nothing. I was feeling dizzy; my heart wanted to beat but didn’t know how to do it right.
The bikers made way for Shep. He moved me through the bar, and beyond it. I didn’t have a context for where I was anymore. Things were getting foggy. How could it be? I wasn’t in pain? I would have thought getting shot would hurt more than this did.
“I didn’t feel it.”
“You were brave as fuck. It’s okay, I’ve got you. You’re going to be okay.”
I struggled to stay awake, to stay alert, but it was impossible.
“Don’t take me to the doctor, I’m okay. I don’t have insurance.”
I started to panic. I needed to cut through the haze. Getting shot at a biker bar on my first day out of prison. Would I be in some sort of trouble?
“Shep, Tracy’s here.”
A pretty woman, who if I was being honest, looked like Snow White or something, introduced herself.
“I’m a nurse, let me look.”
“It grazed her, didn’t even go in,” Tracy said to Shep. He still had my hand.
“I’m fine, really I am.”
I struggled to sit up and finally felt the sting along my side.
“It didn’t go in, but you have a grazing wound there, some blood, and we need to clean it up.”
“I don’t think she needs an ambulance, but I can drive her to the E.R. if I think it’s needed. You go be with Bear,” Tracy the nurse said to Shep.
“NO! No hospital. I don’t have insurance. Just, can you put a bandage on it?”
Tracy The Snow White Nurse looked me over again.
“Yes, I can.”
“I’ll pay for whatever she needs. Take her if you think she needs the E.R.”
“I’m really fine, I just got a little woozy for second. I’m fine.”
Shep had no reason to be this worried about me. But there was a furrow in his brow and he couldn’t stop looking at me like I would break. I was fine. I started telling myself that and it started to be true.
“You’re really okay?” he asked me again.
“Totally, plus, I know where they keep the good whiskey, remember?”
I wanted the fuss over me to be over.
“I think she’s right, Shep. I can dress this here. It really is just a scrape, amazingly lucky,” Tracy said. “I think you need to go, now. Mama Bear is going to need you more than Papa Bear.”
Snow White? Mama Bear? Maybe I’d hit my head some time in the chaotic of the last few minutes.
“I have to go, JJ. You do exactly as Tracy says, exactly.”
“Yep, got it, boss.”
He looked at me and leaned over and kissed my forehead. The toughest looking biker I’d ever laid eyes on kissed me on the forehead. I felt a warmth, and a calm, even though a virtual stranger had just made this intimate gesture. Kissing me on the forehead.
Shep stood up. I watched his long legs, his fluid stride as he walked out of the room.
Tracy opened a medical bag.
“We’re just going to clean this up and put a light bandage on. Your arm feel okay?”
I realized there was a bruise forming in the shape of E.Z.’s fingers.
“It’s okay.”
I looked down. The blood that had appeared initially has already stopped.
“Some first day at The MC, eh?”
“Yeah. Oh shit!”
“What? Something else I need to check out?”
“No, this is my favorite t-shirt and it’s stained.”
The t-shirt and the jacket were the only things I had from before I went inside.
�
�A little cold water right after we get you fixed up and it will come out.”
“Oh, okay. Thanks.”
“I know how to get blood out – you marry a Dark Saint, it’s like, in the manual.”
So this woman was married to one of the men out there. It was funny to think of any of them domesticated.
“Oh, uh, great.”
Tracy finished her work and ordered me to go home and rest.
I slipped away from the club, from all the new faces, from the chaos that my Uncle had forced me into.
I knew I needed to be back at my apartment, so I could call him and tell him exactly what had gone down at The Dark Saint’s MC.
I knew I should let him know that the one person who was supposed to be his main spy and my contact, had shot me, shot the club Prez, and was fucking burned as hell.
But I also couldn’t shake the feeling that if Shep was supposed to be the enemy, why did I feel more connected to him than anyone else on the planet at this very moment?
4
Shep
* * *
“I cannot believe the mother fucker got away,” Kade whispered amongst the half dozen or so Saints gathered in the hallway of the ICU.
“He better keep running,” Domino spoke up. The sentiment was shared by every single one of us. E.Z. was a dead man. He might have survived betraying us, maybe, but he shot Bear, in the chest. So E.Z. was as good as dead.
Several members were out looking for him at this very moment. I wondered how good of an escape plan E.Z. had. It kept me from thinking about my Dad. Bear was hooked up to a million machines and for the first time ever, looking vulnerable.
Domino, Zig, Chase, Maddox, Kade, Axle, and Benz were with me. Sarge, Maddox’s Dad, and a former Prez of the MC had also shown up. A handful more of us had been kicked into another room. The rest of The Saints were trying to find E.Z.
Mama Bear was holding a vigil by Dad’s bed. She was every inch the combat nurse now. She asked pointed questions, she monitored every machine, and she carefully questioned the doctors about aspect of Bear’s care at Port Az General.
Maddox’s wife Tracy had just shown up from the clubhouse.