Bail Out

by Jade Chandler

  “Got it.” The kid stood up. “How’s Elle doing?”

  “Kicking ass and taking names, I just wish one of those names was mine.”

  He laughed and headed out of the office.

  I finished paperwork and stopped by to have Heath move to the second desk out front. It was unlikely an Angel would make it this far into our territory, but I wanted to be sure Trisha was protected. So far we hadn’t found any of the trash north of Dallas, but Charlie told me to expect that to change today.

  I grabbed my sidearm from my saddle bag and stuck it in my waist band. I wasn’t paranoid, but I was cautious. The ride to the clubhouse did nothing to ease my mind, which was unusual. Twenty minutes on my bike normally cleared my head, but nothing worked lately. I wished it was the situation with the Angels that had me jacked up, but it wasn’t.

  Elle had worked down deep in me and I should just be done with her, done with the temptation, done with pretending I could keep her. Maybe by the time we’d finished with the Angels, I’d be ready to fix my Elle issue. A swift pain swept through my middle, I’d had knife wounds that hurt less. Every time I thought of letting her go, the pain hit hard, stealing my breath and my resolve.

  Fuck me, I was so screwed. Wound tight about a woman I couldn’t keep, yet all I could think about was sinking into her, loving her the way we’d made love the last time. It was the last morning with her that had changed me. We’d been in deep waters before, but the way she surrendered to me that morning had thrown me into a whirlpool, one I couldn’t break free from, worse, I didn’t even want to try.

  I parked my bike next to Jericho’s in the clubhouse lot and just sat there a minute, clearing my mind of all the bullshit I didn’t have the time or ability to fix now, or ever. I strode through the wooden front door into the heart of my brotherhood. This was home, now and forever.

  Jericho and Dare sat on the stage, I headed over to join them. A few of the guys already sat at the mismatched tables, even though we had a half hour before the meeting started.

  “You good?” Jericho asked when I sat next to him.

  “Yeah, I have the map broken out into zones. Zero is bringing the copies and the assignments. He had some of his prospects do the grunt work.” I considered grabbing a bottle of beer, or maybe whiskey, but I needed all my wits tonight.

  “How’s your woman?” Dare glanced over at me.

  “Haven’t seen her in days, says she’s good.” I shrugged.

  The two eyed me. “You have eyes on her?”

  Cold dread ran down my spine. Fuck me, I hadn’t even considered Elle might be in danger. “I’ll take care of it.”

  I sent a text to Ringer. Need protection on Elle, send someone her way.

  He responded a few seconds later. Send me the deets, I’ll send someone tonight.

  After I sent him her work and home address, I sent Elle a text. She’d spot the guy and I didn’t want her giving him grief.

  We have some tension with another club, sending a guy to shadow you, in case. I reviewed the text and knew I was in for a bunch of questions I wouldn’t be able to answer.

  My phone pinged. Be safe. What club?

  You can figure that out. We don’t talk about club business. I’m always safe.

  So that’s why my vibrator is getting a workout. Well that and those videos. Her response sent all my blood straight to my hard-on, the last thing I needed now.

  Damn, woman, that’s just mean. Miss you too. Gotta go to a meeting. My thumbs hovered over the keyboard. I hit send even if I should have deleted most of that message. I dropped my phone in the pocket of my cut and tried to forget about Elle and her messages.

  The tables by the stage filled up. Zero strutted in with the papers under his arm. I gave him the nod and he started handing out zone maps and getting the guys organized together. Once most of the shuffling was done, I stood up. “Alright, now let’s go over our plan.” The guys quieted. “I’ve made more specific assignments, and highlighted a few of the spots you may want to stop and check out tonight. We have guys in a lot of those spots now, and have had the day shift watching the major routes out of Dallas.” Most of the guys who volunteered were members but a few prospects were sprinkled in every night.

  “We have intel that says tonight we should start seeing the rats flee, if you catch a rat, call for cleanup. We have prospects ready to drive out and pick up. They’ll take them to the drop-off site. And our job is done. We ride from seven to seven, when the next shift takes over. You got questions?”

  “What if there’s a group of them?” Delta asked.

  “Call it in, we’ll bring a crew, you and your partner just watch and wait.” I glanced from him around the room. “I don’t want any of us hurt, so play it safe.”

  The rumbling from the guys at the tables said they weren’t a fan of safe. “Not like my granny safe, but no stupid moves, these guys are on the run and scared, that makes sensible a thing of the past. They are dead men riding.”

  Quiet filled the room. “They want what’s ours, so we’re going to round them up. They took what the Bandits owned, so they’ll deal with them.”

  Nods met my words. This wasn’t pretend, and I didn’t want anyone on this ride who didn’t understand the consequences. “I won’t be on a bike tonight, I’ll be in one of the pickup vehicles, call me if you need anything, and stay with your partner, always.”

  Jericho stood up. “Let’s get this settled and move on. Got me?”

  Again nods, no one had a doubt this was club business. We’d gone twenty years without a club war—our first and only had been with a club up north who thought the fledging Brotherhood would be easy prey. We’d proved them wrong; tonight, we’d be sure the Angels of Death were taught the same lesson.

  West drove and I monitored my phone, getting updates from each pair on the hour. Delta and Zero reported the first spotting at nine. Two Angels sped up I-35 by Gainesville. I called in two other trucks and we merged on to I-35 about five minutes ahead of the bikers. Forcing the Angels off the road was more dangerous than finding them stopped but we’d make it work.

  “West, we’re the side car, got the drill?”

  West nodded, I climbed over the seat to get in the back where I could point my shotgun right at the guys. The bikers came up on us, the lead truck slowed and Thorn settled in beside them. Wise to our move, the bikers drove off road, slowing their bikes enough to hop off the back and they started running cross country, firing behind them.

  “Off road,” I told the others while West headed the SUV toward them, we caught up in seconds, but stayed far enough back their wild shots wouldn’t hit. Thorn took his 4x4 around and cut off their path.

  “Drop the guns,” I shouted out.

  Eyes wide with fright they turned to fire again but both guns were empty. The one gun had been clicking for the last four rounds, but now they were both out. Easier that way, I hadn’t wanted to shoot them, even if it was only to wound them.

  I hopped out and ran forward, punching the first guy, knocking him down, the second guy turned to run and Thorn knocked him out before he made it three steps. I restrained both their hands and feet with disposable cuffs before Thorn and I carried each of them to the SUV.

  “North of here about half a mile is a dirt road, looks like the best exit plan.” West pointed it out on the GPS.

  “I’ll return to the original location.” Thorn gave me a two-finger salute and returned to his Jeep.

  “Let’s go to the dumping ground.” I climbed in the passenger seat. West had already raised the window between the front and back.

  “You good?” I asked him.

  “Good.” He glanced over at me. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “No reason.” We rode in silence a few minutes. “You believe that shit JoJo told you?” I still had no clue what he had said.
>
  West grinned wide. “Not after the first few days. Lyle believed longer, until a couple weeks ago, I think.”

  “Good then.” I wasn’t admitting to the fact I didn’t know what JoJo spouted off.

  “I mean you don’t even have a dungeon at Bound, I checked.” His grin spread wider. “So surely you don’t get off on whipping prospects who disobey you.”

  Fuck me. He’d told them a half-truth.

  “Get it straight.” I glanced over at the kid, trying to look tough at the ripe age of 21. I remembered those days. “I don’t enjoy it, but I have done it and would again if I had to.”

  The kid gulped. “No shit?”

  “I ran Bound and I’m a Master. Fuck yeah I whipped the Bound prospects who screwed up.” He hated remembering those sessions, not because of the discipline but because of the Old Man. “It was Jericho’s father, the guy who doesn’t run the club anymore, who enjoyed watching.”

  “Fuck me.” He whispered the words. We rode in silence a bit longer. “You didn’t do that to Dan.”

  “Dan wasn’t meant to wear the cut, so I wouldn’t waste my time on him. Besides, you fuck up now, Zero takes it out of your hide first. Or both of us.” Prospects didn’t need to think we were easy.

  “Got it, don’t fuck up.” West nodded as he spoke.

  “You’re a good biker, decent bounty hunter, shitty bonder. You have nothing to worry about.” I clasped his shoulder and he jumped.

  “So work on the bonding, then.” He glanced at me.

  “You’ve been with me about four months now, you like the work? Or would you rather be working with the operations guys.”

  “I’m not military, and I like working with you.” He glanced over at me.

  “Then quit believing all the sob stories,” I told him.

  “I caught all my skips.” He jutted out his chin.

  “Which is why you haven’t met my fist.” I grinned and sat back in the seat.

  On the way to the drop spot, two more Angels were picked up at a dive bar east of Gainesville, so far we were keeping them out of our territory. I liked that.

  We arrived at the abandoned church south of Gainesville on a country road. “I’ll take them in.”

  “I got one.” He climbed out of the truck.

  We dragged the babbling guys into the church and set them down on the rotting wood floor.

  “You can’t do this, they’re going to kill us,” the skinny one pleaded.

  “And you made a deal to make meth in my backyard.” I stared down at him.

  His brother spit toward me but I just walked away. I texted Charlie. Two for pickup. Two more in forty minutes. Will text to confirm that delivery.

  Headlights flashed further down the road. West turned the other direction and we drove away. Once we were on the highway again, my nerves settled down. I didn’t like being on the same road with the Bandit death crew.

  “Does it bother you?” I asked West. This was the hardest part of being a brother. He’d volunteered for the work, but it didn’t mean it set well with him.

  “Not even a little.” His hands were relaxed on the wheel, and he showed no sign he was tight about it. “You fuck with us, you pay the price. Way I see it, this is the simpler solution.”

  He was right. Our two clubs were similar in size and a straight up war with the Angels over territory would be nasty—some brothers dead and others in jail. We wouldn’t be able to stay on the right side of the law and deal with them. Charlie was a great friend and a better businessman.

  When our shift ended at seven, we had captured nine Angels. A few fist fights but no gunshot wounds on either side. I wasn’t sure we’d make it to the end of the fight with a clean record, but I hoped so.

  I had West drop me at the clubhouse before he headed back to Ardmore to his place. I needed to update Jericho and crew then I planned to crash here. I was too fucking tired to drive anywhere.

  My phone buzzed. By our count 12 are out there.

  I sucked in a breath and ignored the icy fingers of panic. The Angels had 66 members and another 17 prospects. We’d captured nine, the Bandits had eliminated more than 60 Angels without any help from us. I texted him back. Got it. Still patrolling.

  The Prez and an enforcer are still out there.

  Passing it along. I texted as I headed into the Council chamber for the debriefing.

  I sat down and yawned wide. I hadn’t slept ten hours combined in the last three days, and now it was catching up with me.

  Jericho, Ringer, Dare, Thorn and Zero sat in the Council chambers. Zero looked damn uneasy sitting in his chair, but he’d get comfortable because he had leader tattooed on his fucking forehead.

  “What do you know?” Jericho growled.

  “71 Angels of Death went down last night, intel says there are 12 remaining, including their Prez and a top enforcer. Now they know we’re part of this, so we need to be on our toes.”

  “Fuck me,” Zero said what we all thought.

  “We will stay alert on protection details and keep up the zones. Worked great last night.” Ringer nodded to me.

  “Watch our women, and all roads into Ardmore and Barden?” Dare confirmed.

  “Yup, unless we find a bigger threat. Whoever we don’t catch today likely won’t be moving for a few days, but we need to keep up the pressure.” Thorn’s deep voice boomed in the quiet room.

  “If it were me, I’d bring together as many guys as I could and hole up in Dallas a few days, make a plan,” Ringer said.

  “If it were me, I’d never piss off the Bandits.” Jericho grinned. “Anything else?”

  We broke up the meeting and I started for a room. “Rebel,” Jericho called after me. He walked over to me. “You good?”

  “Yeah, got this.” I met his gaze.

  “You’re doing better than got this.” He slapped my back. “Now go get some sleep.”

  I picked the first open room and crashed on the bed. I toed off my boots and climbed under the covers. Elle’s bright blue eyes were my last thought.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Elle

  Five days with my shadow and twelve days since I’d touched Rebel. Our relationship was over. He hadn’t signed the divorce papers yet, but that was a technicality. Twelve days of over, but I’d only realized it last night lying alone in my bed. If he’d wanted me, he would’ve found a way to see me. I’d volunteered to come to him last weekend, but he’d been too busy. Everyone slept and I came with my own shadow for protection, so he was making excuses. Time to let him go, like I’d promised.

  A tear slipped out, I wiped it away. I had shed enough tears into my pillow in the wee hours of last night. Today I needed to be on my game, figure out my expansion plan, and move on with my damn life.

  Once I was in my office, I texted Gator, who thought up biker names anyway, that I was in my office until lunch time. When I’d brought him a big mug of coffee the first morning, he’d given me a toothy grin. We’d exchanged phone numbers and now we were texting buddies—he knew my schedule better than me. Of course that might be because I’d given him access to my calendar after the first time I’d left without him, forgetting about him actually. I’d say we were friends except he refused all my offers to share takeout or to come inside while he watched over me in the evening. He just said no, no negotiation.

  Putting bikers and their stupid rules out of my mind, I went over the numbers from Finance again, even though I’d already admitted defeat, for now. Daddy had been right, we didn’t have the cash flow to acquire any of our competitors, at least not the caliber I wanted. Unlike Daddy, I’d sent Chet, my numbers guru, back to his office with the task of figuring out how much revenue we needed to generate to be able to fund my expansion plan.

  Alice buzzed the intercom. “There’
s a biker at front reception, wanting to work out a bond for someone. He asked for you.”

  Was Rebel or one of his guys in trouble? I hurried out the door and past Alice. “Wait. Should I call security?” She gave me a worried frown.

  I slowed and the Angels flitted through my mind, but my shadow wouldn’t let them in the building. “Have them on standby.”

  I moved down the back steps and came out the side door beside reception. The biker’s back was to me, he wore an Angels of Death vest, or cut as Rebel called it. Shit. I hadn’t brought my gun. I stepped forward, my boots clicking on the tile floor. He turned to me, pulling something from under his vest.

  Time slowed.

  I spotted the gun handle when he moved his hand. No one brought a gun to my company, threatened my employees.

  I spun on my heel and kicked up, hitting him in the wrist with the side of my boot. The gun clattered on the floor.

  He lunged forward—Spike, Enforcer—I read the words on the leather vest.

  I dodged to the side but his glancing blow sent me staggering back, he’d have broken my jaw, or my whole face, if he’d connected better. Kicking out I struck his knee, spun and kicked up hitting him under the chin, sending his teeth together in a jarring snap. He wavered leaning forward before he fell back, his body thumping against the floor.

  “Don’t move,” my security guards shouted, guns pointing at him.

  He was out cold, either from the kick or the hit to his head when he fell back, probably both.

  The receptionist held the phone in her hand, frozen.

  “Put down the phone,” I told her. “We don’t need the police.”

  She frowned but did what I told her.

  “Restrain him. You have cuffs?” I asked Jed, the senior security guard.

  He nodded and bent to cuff the bastard. I grabbed my phone and punched Gator’s number.

  “Yeah, darling?” He had a Southern drawl that wasn’t Texan.

  “I have an Angel here,” I told him.

  “Fuck, fuck, I’m there.” He ran in the front doors seconds later, phone still held in his hand.