Devil's Marker (Sons of Sanctuary MC, Austin, Texas Book 4)

by Victoria Danann

  “Simmer down. I agree that I won’t call you that unless you irritate me past the patience of a dead man.”

  The gate guard at R.C.’s building wouldn’t let them into the parking garage without the official sticker for the car. R.C. was exasperated by that, but Win felt good about their level of distrust.

  “You’ll have to go around to the front, Ms. Greer. Sorry.”

  When they pulled up in front, Win said, “Want to see your place, but it’s gonna have to wait. Boss man said to hightail it back.”

  “You gonna be careful?” she asked.

  “Don’t wanna die if that’s what you mean.”

  She threw herself across the console separating the bucket seats into a kiss goodbye. He didn’t want to let her go any more than she wanted to see him drive away.

  She ran her hand over his jaw. He hadn’t shaved in a day and, even though his beard was a light golden color, it was visible. “Like the scruff.”

  Win smiled. “Go on now.” That sounded a little more breathless than he intended. “I’m gonna watch you go inside. You do what your pop said. Don’t come out again until he tells you. Okay?” She nodded. “Shortly behind gettin’ that call, I’m gonna be here for you.”

  She nodded again, clutched her big purse to her chest and got out of the SUV. “Promise?”

  “Arcy. There aren’t enough angels in heaven or demons in hell to keep me away.”

  She smiled, but her eyes went that deep bayou green and liquid.

  Christ. How could a man fall so hard so fast?

  As promised, he watched her speak to the doorman. She slipped inside, but not casting a look back over her shoulder, that reminded him of that first night in the clubhouse as she left with her childhood friend, Robin.

  On the drive back to Waco he pondered how life could be strange. He didn’t believe in ‘meant to be’ crap, but did mull over the fact that he’d soon be returning to Austin having connected with a guy who offered unexpected friendship and a woman who looked a lot like the future.

  When Win stepped back into the clubhouse, he did so with caffeine shakes and not a prayer of falling asleep anytime soon. Bo was behind the bar, but he was the only person in sight.

  “What’s goin’ on?” Win asked.

  “Everybody’s been busy gettin’ the families in house.”

  “Where’s Boss?”

  “Think he was sleepin’ for a little while. Might be in the office now.”

  “Okay. Takin’ a shower if somebody needs me.”

  Win took a shower, changed into clean clothes, but still felt too wired to sleep. So he went searching for information on new developments.

  When he peeked down the hallway that led to security, he saw that Boss’s door was open. He knocked on the jamb.

  “Package has been delivered.”

  Boss looked up. “Good. Takes a load off my mind. Soon as all the families are in, we’ll move on to Phase 2.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Members met while you were travelin’. Made some decisions about what to do with Stars and Bars. I cast your vote by proxy. Knew it would be okay with you.”

  Win smirked. “Thanks.”

  “Anytime. We’ve decided their presence can no longer be tolerated. The only acceptable outcome is exile.”

  “No.” Win shook his head.

  “No?”

  “That is not acceptable. Those guys need to be ended. Anything else, they’ll just go somewhere else and do the same.”

  Boss sighed deeply. “I see you feel strongly about this. And I find that commendable. Thing is, I spent some time wearin’ orange when R.C. was little. Her mama was gone and she had to live with Zipper and Carla.

  “Bottom line, I’m not lookin’ to spend any more of my time that way. Life is short and it’s even shorter if you spend some of it as a prisoner.”

  He stopped, either to make sure Win was processing what he was saying or to see if Win had a response.

  “Now I got a plan. It’s a plan that could end this shameful activity without endangerin’ my freedom. Or that of any member of this club.” Win looked dubious. “You’ll see. It’s gonna work out.”

  “Say I go along and, since I already voted by proxy, I guess I do. What happens next?”

  “We got a meetin’ with S&B tomorrow. It’s all set up. Got the back room of the Double D reserved for eighteen. Nine of theirs. Nine of ours. No more than another fourteen, seven and seven, can be hangin’ around outside.”

  “They know about Cramer?”

  “Sure as fuck they suspect. By the time we get all the women and kids outta harm’s way, they’ll know for sure. They’ll be comin’ pissed. Mad as hornets about that little weasel, mad as hornets about losin’ human cargo, and they’re gonna be even madder than that when they hear the surprise I got for ‘em.

  “We’ll be usin’ our carry licenses and ready for anything. If they’re businessmen, we’ll come to a peaceful understanding. But we’ll be ready for crazy, just in case.”

  “What’s that?”

  Boss tapped his temple. “Still germinatin’. My solution that’s in the works may not be as satisfyin’ as a mass grave, but it’s a hell of a lot safer for the family men and just as effective at puttin’ an end to the trafficking.”

  “Tomorrow night.”

  “Yeah. Go get some sleep.”

  That was exactly what Win wanted, but he decided to make a phone call first.

  “Yeah?” Brant said, sounding as irritable as always.

  “Here’s the shit. Things comin’ to a head fast. Meeting goin’ down at Double D tomorrow night. Everybody will be armed and it’s bikers.”

  “Y’all have anythin’ to do with that story on the news?”

  “You saw that?”

  “Girls in the middle of Texas bein’ grabbed for slavery?” Brant snorted. “Yeah. We saw it.”

  “Yeah. We had everything to do with it.”

  “Understood. I’ll pass the message on. You just get on your bike and start this way. You’re done.”

  “Thing is, I’m not.”

  “Yeah, you are. Consider it an order. Time to go.”

  “I’m in this now, prez.”

  “No.”

  “Look. If things go best case scenario, there won’t be any incident. I’m just tellin’ you so the Ranger knows to keep an eye out. Tell him for him and his friends to keep their distance unless there’s live fire. The prez here, he may be able to work this out without goin’ there.”

  “Jesus, Garrett. There’s no reason for you to be in the middle of this.”

  “Got my reasons.”

  He heard a big sigh. “We’re gonna leave the light on. You get outta there at the first sign of trouble.” When Win hesitated, Brant said, “Or don’t come back. If you can’t follow my orders, you’re no good to me.”

  “Okay. You win. Shots get fired. I’m gone.”

  “Tomorrow night, you’re back here. Either way.”

  “All right.”

  “Call me when you’re back on the premises.”

  “Yep.”

  At six thirty the parking lot of the Double D started to fill up with motorcycles. At least that’s how it seemed. Motorcycles have a way of multiplying in the eye. They look like there are more than there actually are.

  Four different law enforcement agencies had representatives keeping an eye on the situation. They’d been instructed to hang back unless a crime was committed, and that’s what they intended to do.

  The Double D was normally closed on Mondays, but Boss had made opening for a private affair a very attractive proposition.

  The menu was simple. Ribs. Corn on the cob. French fries. Biscuits. Beer.

  Boss figured, if you could keep men’s hands busy with eatin’ good food, there was less chance those hands would go reachin’ for weapons. Beer didn’t jump people up like booze. Beer was friendly. It was what you did with friends and neighbors.

  Such were the thoughtful plans of
a leader willing to leave to chance only what had to be left to chance.

  He’d given careful instruction about the arrangement of tables into two horseshoes. Boss would sit at one end with Marauders facing each other, four and four. There would be a space between tables for servers to walk. A mirror horseshoe at the other end would seat Dredge with eight of his guys in mirror formation.

  Like a meeting of foreign dignitaries, there were diplomatic protocols to follow. Neither of the clubs would enter the reserved room and be seated until both were there. If one club arrived late and the other was seated, waiting, it would be a sign of disrespect.

  Of course the Marauders did hold grudging disrespect for the Stars & Bars, but making that too evident too early in the process would be counterproductive. So they’d play the game and observe tradition.

  Boss left Zipper to guard Cramer, thinking rightly that Zipper was too closely connected to the sins of Stars & Bars. He took Roar, Smash, Cue, Cowpie, Paul, Cuervo, Jack, and, to his very great surprise, Win. Catcher was among the seven selected to remain outside and make sure that things remained calm, orderly, and according to plan.

  Boss came roaring in leading a parade of fifteen motorcycles in a deafening announcement of arrival. Seeing that some of the Stars & Bars had parked on the south side of the entrance, Boss backed his bike into the beginning of a row on the north.

  Inside the bar restaurant, Dredge and his boys were waiting to go into the room set aside for the meeting. When Boss entered, their heads turned to showcase glares that made their feelings crystal clear.

  “Evenin’,” Boss said, entirely too cheerfully. But the club with the upper hand could afford to be friendly. “Let’s get to it.”

  He led his little procession into the reserved space and took the tables at the far end. The disadvantage of that was that they’d be farthest from the door. The advantage was that they could see the door. The disadvantage was mitigated by an emergency exit door within a couple of steps of Boss’s chair.

  The Stars & Bars filed in wordlessly with sullen expressions like teenagers being called on the carpet of the principal’s office, but hoping to maintain some of their dignity.

  Waitresses wearing boots, scandalously short cutoff jeans, and tops that were basically front closure bras with fringe, began serving pitchers of beer with flirtatious smiles. They figured out in short order that none of the men were there to flirt.

  The representatives of the two clubs stared at each other while women clad in the risqué versions of ‘cowgirl’ costumes served big platters of food. Marauders dug in happily and commented to each other how good it was while Stars & Bars stared, refusing to touch any of the food.

  “Not hungry?” Boss said, chewing on corn from an ear in his hand. “Too bad. You should eat up ‘cause this is gonna be your last meal in Waco.”

  Dredge’s nostrils flared. “That right?” he asked with an accent far too ‘Southern’ for modern times.

  “Yeah,” Boss said happily, picking up a rib. “That’s right. This is good stuff. You should have some. For the road.” He looked around at the other Marauders and laughed, saying, “Unless you’re wantin’ to take it to go.”

  The Marauders obliged by laughing, which made Dredge fume even more and cross his arms over his chest. “If you think my operation can’t sustain one hit, you’re sadly mistaken.”

  Boss put his food down and grew serious. The other Marauders took his lead and did the same. “You missin’ somebody?”

  Dredge held Boss’s gaze. “You got my boy? That what this is about? Shakedown?”

  “You don’t want him back?”

  “Depends on the price.”

  “I figured you’d say somethin’ like that.” Boss turned to the Marauders. “They don’t seem to think much of the concept of loyalty.”

  Cue shook his head with disdain.

  “No. We weren’t countin’ on you to care about your members. We are, however, countin’ on you carin’ something about your womenfolk.”

  Dredge looked confused. “Womenfolk,” he repeated.

  “Even scum like you have somebody they care about. Usually.’”

  “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

  “What’s it mean?” Boss seemed to be giving that some thought. He reached inside his cut where he’d had Bertalia attach several sheets of trifolded paper. As everyone looked on, he unfolded the paper and said, “Well, let’s see here. Choc.” One of the S&B looked up. “That you?” Boss glanced down at the paper again. “Yeah. That’s you. Got a niece named Scarlett.” Boss looked at his men. “That’s cute. Like Gone With The Wind. Seventeen years old. She’s not that cute, but the kind of men who want to play with captives aren’t all that picky.”

  Choc stood up and looked overly excited. “What’ve you done?!?”

  “Calm down. No worries. My people’ve got her. She’s safe and sound. For now.”

  Choc’s face changed from panicked to sneering. “You don’t got shit.”

  Boss held the man’s gaze without flinching. “Why don’t you call her mother?” Boss glanced down. “Ask your sister if she knows where Scarlett is.”

  Choc stood up, pulled out his phone, stepped to the corner and held the phone to his ear.

  In a few seconds everybody in the room could hear Choc talking. “You check around. Make sure she’s there. Call me back.”

  Boss began going around Dredge’s table naming young family members one by one, claiming they were out of pocket. Finally he came to Dredge. “Claudia.” Dredge’s eyes flared. “You were in foster care with her? She’s kinda old for this sorta thing, but like I told Choc there, guys who are interested in raping girls taken as slaves aren’t all that particular.”

  Pretty soon everybody at the S&B end of the room were on their phones frantically discussing the whereabouts of this person or that. Everybody except Dredge’s V.P., the guy Cue had described as tall and ugly. It turned out that Cue’s description had been kind.

  Boss had gone back to eating. He turned to Roar. “Send some more of those fries down this way, would ya?”

  After ten minutes of watching the Stars & Bars try unsuccessfully to prove that Boss was bluffing, they stood in a huddle at the far end of the room. Apparently Dredge told them to retake their seats because they all returned to the chairs they’d occupied prior to Boss’s revelation.

  “What do you want?” Dredge said.

  “Just what I told you at the Harley dealership last time we met. I want you and your friends gone for good. If you choose to leave right now, get on your bikes and head east, the women on this list will be returned unharmed. This will just serve as a reminder that you’re not the only one who can take people who mean somethin’ to somebody else.

  “This is gonna serve as a reminder that Marauders have a far reach. We ever get wind that you’re backslidin’ into activities that involve takin’ people against their will? We know everything there is to know about you, your families, your associates, and your suppliers. Every one of them has somebody they want to keep safe. From now on that’s up to you.”

  “We woulda moved on,” Dredge said. “My business model don’t call for stayin’ in one place too long.”

  “Then why’d you fuck up one of my boys?”

  “Just to send a message to stay outta our way.”

  “A message. I got selective hearin’.”

  “This is bullshit.” That came from the S&B V.P. who, undoubtedly, was speaking out of turn, but loose discipline in a club like S&B didn’t surprise Boss at all.

  “Shut up,” Dredge growled. “We agree.”

  “Very well,” said Boss. “Just to reiterate. You’re leaving right now. You’re not packin’ a bag or sayin’ goodbye to whores. You’ll be on the other side of Louisiana by mornin’. Is that your understandin’?”

  “Yes,” said Dredge.

  “I’m gonna need you to expound on that. I want to hear you describe our agreement, in words, so that everybody’s clear.”<
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  “Stars & Bars are leavin’ out. Right now,” Dredge started. “We’re not comin’ back and we’re not takin’ girls. Anymore. Ever.”

  “Okay.” Boss nodded. “I think we understand each other. You can go.”

  Dredge shoved back from the table, stood, and stomped out. S&B went with him.

  Win was gaping internally. He thought Boss had managed to get rid of the scourge without a single act of outward violence, unless you counted Zipper’s interrogation.

  The Marauders followed S&B out to the parking lot.

  Dredge pointed to the S&B members who had not been in the meeting, saying, “Get on your bikes. We’re leavin’.”

  Catcher caught Win’s eye and asked the silent question. Win shook his head to mean, “Let’s get them gone. Then we’ll talk.”

  Boss stood on the porch of the Double D flanked by Marauders on both sides. It looked like he was going to pull off a strategic manipulation of epic proportions, right up until the S&B V.P. pulled out a pistol and aimed it at Boss.

  Cue saw what was happening fast enough to shove Boss aside and take the bullet meant for the prez. As he went down everybody pulled out weapons. Catcher shot the V.P. in the ass, sending him to the pavement howling like a dog whose hind end had been run over.

  The fire fight didn’t last long. Win had purposefully parked his bike on the far end of the row of Marauder motorcycles. He started in that direction, but looked back. Dredge was turning his pistol in Catcher’s direction. Catcher was standing in the middle of the parking lot firing at S&B members like he thought he was wearing some kind of magical flak suit that made him uniquely invincible.

  Without hesitation Win drew his gun and fired, hitting Dredge in the throat. Catcher pivoted in time to see Win putting his gun away and straddling his bike.

  Hearing sirens approaching, Win took off in the opposite direction, which meant across a vacant lot, a field, an abandoned strip center, and a rundown residential neighborhood. It was a miracle he didn’t tear up a tire, but he made it free and clear.

  It was a long time before the adrenaline began to subside. He was halfway to Austin before he stopped shaking, at which point he yelled into the wind, “IT IS NOT A GOOD DAY TO DIE!” He laughed until he was hoarse, feeling more alive than he ever knew imaginable, with more to live for than he ever thought imaginable.