BEASTLords of Carnage MC

by Daphne Loveling

  “Oh, Natalia,” I say. Tears spring to my eyes, but I manage to swallow them back down. “It’s my pleasure.”

  “She knows some English,” Olga explains. “But only from school. And from…” she trails off, her face stricken.

  I nod quickly. “I understand.” I glance around the room and spot a chair sitting in one corner. I pull it toward the bed next to Olga and sit down. “Natalia,” I say, looking at Olga so she’ll translate. “I am working on finding your father. When we find him, we will fly him here to come get you. And then together, you’ll go home.”

  Olga speaks to Natalia, whose face blossoms into a wide smile. “Thank you,” she whispers, her eyes overflowing with tears.

  I have to clear my throat before I continue. “You’re welcome,” I say. “Before you go home, I would like to get an official statement from you. Which will probably take place in Cleveland. With an official interpreter. For now, though, I’d like to ask you some more questions about what happened to you, if that’s okay?”

  I wait for Olga to explain. When she’s done, Natalia nods at me.

  “Okay. Here goes.”

  I ask Natalia to repeat the story she told me yesterday, about how she got here, and how she escaped. She gives me a few more details this time, but her story is exactly the same as before. I take notes and ask for clarification here and there.

  “Natalia,” I say then, “I’d like to ask you about something that happened yesterday. After you talked on the blue phone to the interpreter, there was a man who came into the room. The man with the leather vest.”

  Natalia’s eyes grow wide and frightened. She nods her head and says something to Olga.

  “She says the man who came in yesterday was wearing the same vest as one of the men who would come to where she was being held. He was there often, and went with her and some of the other girls.”

  “How many men were there, Natalia? About how many men came to have sex with you and the others?”

  Natalia answers through Olga. “More than a dozen.”

  “And how many girls were held with you?”

  “Ten.”

  “The man in the leather vest,” I press. “Are you sure this was the same vest that you saw on the man yesterday? Or just one that looked sort of like it?”

  Natalia shakes her head and speaks rapidly to Olga. “The same. She says she recognizes the word from her English lessons back home because she heard some English prayers and knew that means ‘God’.”

  “Lord,” Natalia repeats emphatically.

  I take a deep breath. This is a question I don’t want to ask, but I have to. “Natalia. What did the man look like? The one who… hurt you… who was wearing that leather vest? I need you to describe him in as much detail as possible. Everything you can remember about him.”

  I let Natalia take her time, writing down notes as Olga translates. From what Natalia tells me, the man in the leather cut is on the older side, maybe her father’s age, with gray and black hair and a gray beard. He’s large, strong-looking but with a stomach. Natalia even describes a few of his tattoos. One in particular, on his left bicep, stood out to her. A skull with long hair and a bandana, pointing a gun in his skeletal fist.

  Eventually, I see that Natalia is getting tired, and I remember that she’s still recuperating from a terrible ordeal.

  “Okay, I think that’s enough,” I say, smiling at the both of them. “Thank you so much, Natalia. I’m hoping to be back tomorrow with news about when your father will be here.”

  “When will she get out of hospital?” Olga asks me.

  “I’m not sure,” I say. “I’m going to go talk to the nurses about that. But we’ll find her a place to stay, don’t worry.”

  Natalia leans over and whispers something to her. Olga hesitates.

  “Natalia says she is afraid to leave hospital. She is afraid they will come for her.”

  For some reason, Jarred Holloway’s face flashes in my mind when Olga says this.

  “I’m just here visiting a dear friend. Just a happy coincidence that I should run into you.”

  I never told Chief Crup I was investigating a human trafficking tip.

  Somehow Holloway knew it, though.

  I think back to the laundromat. And how it was closed the first time I was there.

  And how the police car followed me around in the days after I visited Chief Crup.

  My spine tingles at the back of my neck. Something’s not right.

  “Natalia,” I say. “I’ll come back and visit you again, very soon. In the meantime, don’t worry. I’ll keep you safe. I promise.”

  As I walk out of the hospital room, my mind is swirling in a million directions. After a few days of having essentially no leads, suddenly there are strands of them everywhere.

  First, though, I go in search of Isabel. Thankfully, she’s working this shift. I see her coming out of a patient’s room near the nursing station.

  She smiles, recognizing me instantly. “Agent…”

  “Brooke,” I interrupt her. “Isabel, I just came from Natalia’s room. Can you tell me when she’s being discharged?”

  “Well,” she begins. “Physically, except for being a little malnourished, there’s nothing wrong with her. The hospital is going to want her out of here as soon as possible since she’s not got insurance.” She frowns regretfully. “I don’t think we’ll be able to keep her here beyond tomorrow.”

  “Okay.” It’s not ideal, but at least I know. “Look, I need to level with you. I’m a little worried that she could potentially be in some danger. I can’t quite explain, but ideally, I’d like to have her room guarded. Unfortunately…” I hesitate. “I, um, would prefer not to involve the local police. And until I can get another agent down here to keep an eye on her, I don’t have a lot of options.”

  Isabel snorts and rolls her eyes. “You don’t have to apologize about not wanting the police involved. Remember, I’m with one of the Lords of Carnage. I know a lot more about the cops in this town than most. And trust me, under Mayor Holloway, they’re the last people I’d call for protection.”

  I blink at her, surprised. It’s no shock that the MC wouldn’t trust cops, but it’s interesting that she’s mentioned Holloway as well. I take a deep breath and decide to take a leap of faith.

  “I’ll be back as soon as I can. I need to work on finding Natalia a safe place to be after she’s released. In the meantime, is there any way that you can keep an eye on her? Make sure no one goes in there who shouldn’t be?”

  Isabel reaches out and puts a hand on my arm. “I’ll tell the other nurses, and get hospital security to keep an eye on her room.”

  Relief floods through me. “Thank you so much, Isabel.”

  “Don’t mention it. Really.” Her eyes lock on mine. “I know what it’s like to feel unsafe, and to need protection.”

  I walk out of the hospital feeling better than I have in days. But with every step, a weight begins to return, in some ways even heavier than before.

  I just asked Isabel to trust me, and to help me. She agreed without reservation.

  And now, she thinks I’m off to find Natalia a place to stay. Which I am.

  But I’m also about to go spy on her husband’s club.

  And what I find might end up blowing the Lords of Carnage apart.

  19

  Beast

  As soon as we get back to Tanner Springs, Angel and I head straight for Rock’s house. When we get there, Trudy greets us at the door.

  “Jesus, I just got Rock home.” She narrows her eyes at us. “Can’t you men leave him the fuck alone for even a minute to let him recuperate?”

  “This is important, Trudy,” Angel tells her. “I’m sorry, darlin’, but it can’t be helped.”

  “All right,” she sighs, and stands back from the door. “Come in. But wipe your goddamn feet. And don’t stay long. I’m kickin’ you out if you’re still here in half an hour.”

  Rock is sitting on the living room
couch, a couple of Trudy’s throw pillows propped up around him. “Ah, geez, the welcome wagon,” he mutters, but he looks glad to see us.

  “I wish that was all we were here for.” Angel takes a seat in an overstuffed chair next to the couch.

  “What?” Rock looks from Angel to me. “Somethin’ go wrong with the drop?”

  “It was an ambush,” Angel says without preamble.

  “What the fuck are you talkin’ about?” Rock demands, rising halfway off the couch. “That can’t be right!”

  “No doubt about it, Rock,” I retort, my jaw tense. “Sarge and Horse are dead.”

  “Jesus Christ!” Rock explodes.

  “It was a trap,” Angel growls. “Whoever was supposed to meet us wasn’t there. The Outlaw Sons came in their place.” He waits a beat. “With some Iron Spiders.”

  Rock freezes. His face contorts into a mask of anger. “The Spiders,” he repeats.

  “We finished them all,” Angel continues. “The ones that were there, anyway. But we only have a rough idea how many Outlaw Sons there are. And we have no idea how many Iron Spiders were left after we blew up their compound and killed their prez. Maybe all the ones that were left patched into the Sons. Maybe the ones that came for us wore their Spiders cuts to show us that this was revenge for what we did to them.”

  “So we’re at war.” His voice is quiet, but deadly.

  Angel nods once. “The Outlaw Sons were never in this to do a deal with us. They were in it to end us.” His eyes turn black and fierce. “This won’t be over until one of our clubs is wiped out, Rock. Off the face of the earth.”

  Rock roars in fury, leaning forward and slamming his fist on the coffee table in front of him. Objects fly off the surface. He jumps up off the couch, kicking at the table and sending it careening into the wall opposite him.

  “Jesus Christ!” Trudy shouts, running in from the kitchen. “Rock, what the hell is wrong with you? What have you two done to work him up like this?”

  “Shut the fuck up, you cunt!” Rock yells, rounding. He raises a large, meaty fist as he strides toward her. “Get the fuck out of this room, now!”

  “Rock!” Angel’s up and shoving himself between them. “Come on, brother. Calm down.” He reaches an arm back and gently pushes Trudy away. “Look, Trudy’s right. You gotta calm down. You’re no good to us if you’re lyin’ in a box.”

  Rock shoots Trudy a look of pure disgust. “Get outta here,” he snarls.

  She narrows her eyes at him. “Fuck you, Rock,” she hisses. “Just fuck you.”

  Trudy storms out of the room. Rock clenches his teeth and turns back to the couch. “Shit. Sarge and Horse.” He sits down, shaking his head. “Everyone else okay?”

  I shake my head. “Bullet got shot. Smiley is patching him up.”

  “You get those motherfuckers?”

  “The ones that were there, yeah. All dead.” Angel’s lip curls into an evil grin. “Ain’t much left of their faces, though. The Sons are gonna have to identify ‘em by their patches.”

  Rock stares into space. “The guns?” he finally says.

  “We have them,” Angel says. “I’m guessin’ they thought they’d take our club out, and end up gettin’ em back in the end.”

  “They ain’t takin’ this club out,” Rock rasps. “I will fuckin’ kill each and every one of ‘em myself if I have to.”

  The three of us sit in silence for a few moments. This war that just started between us and the Outlaw Sons, it’s gonna get big. It could pull in most of the clubs in eastern Ohio: us, them, our chapter to the south, the Death Devils… It ain’t gonna be solved in a week, or even a month.

  It’s the outlaw equivalent of World War III.

  We stay for a few more minutes and try to think of something to say to cheer Rock up, but the war with the Outlaw Sons is too much on all our minds. Trudy comes in twice more, and both times Rock shouts at her to get out, getting more and more agitated by the second. Eventually, we decide to take off before he has another heart attack.

  “You stay away from here,” Trudy orders us as we walk to the door. “He was in a foul mood anyway, before you came. He ain’t gonna get better if you come here and keep riling him up.”

  “You okay, darlin’?” Angel asks. “He was a little rough on you back there.”

  “I can handle him,” she grumbles, and then gives us a disgusted look. “But you two ain’t makin’ it any easier.”

  Trudy watches us for a few seconds as we walk down the sidewalk toward our bikes, then slams the front door behind us.

  “You headin’ back to the clubhouse?” I ask Angel.

  “Eventually,” he frowns. “I gotta call church. Talk to the club about the ambush and the war.” Angel runs a hand roughly through his hair. “But I wanna talk to you first. And I’m fuckin’ starving. Come on.”

  Twenty minutes later, we’re sitting in a back booth at the Lion’s Tap downtown, a couple glasses of draft in front of us.

  “I gotta call Axel and tell him we’re at war,” Angel is saying. Axel’s the president of the new chapter of the Lords of Carnage to the south. “They might not get hit right away, but they will eventually. They need to prepare. They need to know it’s serious. That we’ve lost men.”

  “Speaking of which. We gotta notify Sarge and Horse’s families,” I reply. “And plan a memorial.” Fuck, it makes me feel sick to say that. I can’t believe they’re gone.

  “Yeah,” he nods glumly. “Jesus, this is a hell of a time for Rock to be outta commission. It ain’t good to be operating without a president right now.”

  “You’ll hold us together, brother.” I drain what’s left of my beer and signal to the waitress for another. “Shit, you’ve been VP for a long time. You know what you’re doin’. Ain’t nobody in the club who doubts that for a minute.”

  Angel snorts. “Except Rock, maybe.”

  “Nah. He knows the club’s in good hands. He just doesn’t like it when he’s not out in front, callin’ the shots.”

  “Yeah. Well. That’s one of the things I wanted to talk to you about.” The waitress brings our food and moves away. Angel looks me in the eye. “I’m not so sure how soon he’s gonna be back in the saddle. Trudy told me in the hospital that Rock’s doc wants him to do a complete overhaul of his lifestyle. Diet, exercise, all that noise. And above all, no stress. Apparently his scans showed he’d had a couple mini heart attacks before this one, and there’s a bunch of scarring and shit. I guess he’s at risk for another attack, and his ticker can’t take much more.”

  “Fuck,” I whistle. “He ain’t gonna take that very well.”

  “No shit. I don’t expect him to take it at all. I tried to talk to him about it, but he blew up and said I was tryin’ to take over his club.”

  “That’s bullshit. He doesn’t believe that.”

  “I dunno.” Angel shrugs. “Wouldn’t be the first time we’ve clashed when he thinks I’m challenging his authority. When I went to the hospital for the first time after his attack, he told me not to make any decisions about the club without consulting him first. Well, given the situation, I don’t think that’s gonna be possible. There’s gonna be times I’m gonna have to decide shit quickly.”

  “He knows that,” I say. “Or he will. The club’ll back you up, brother.”

  “Rock’s been like a father to me,” Angel continues. “In a lot of ways, a hell of a lot more than my own father was. This club’s my family.”

  Angel’s father was Abe Abbott. He used to be the mayor of Tanner Springs. Used to be, that is, until he let greed and power get the best of him.

  Abe Abbott and Rock had a long-standing gentlemen’s agreement about the Lords of Carnage. An agreement that allowed both the mayor’s office and the motorcycle club president to function in a kind of peaceful coexistence. The deal was, the Lords took care to keep their less legal business activities out of the spotlight, and the authorities of Tanner Springs wouldn’t look too hard at any of their comings and goin
gs.

  It was a deal that worked perfectly for everyone concerned, for many years. Until Abbott found himself in financial trouble and running up against an unexpectedly tough opponent in the mayoral election: Jarred Holloway. Abbott made a couple of very bad decisions, and ended up betraying the club’s trust. Especially Rock’s.

  Some of the club members weren’t too sure at the time whether Angel’s loyalty to the Lords of Carnage would trump his allegiance to his own father. But Angel knew that Abe had fucked up, and badly. He stuck by the Lords and by his president. And any doubts the brothers might have had about him evaporated.

  In the end, Abe Abbott went missing — either skipping town or meeting his end at the hands of the Iron Spiders, who he’d also been cutting deals with behind our backs. None of us knew where he was or what had happened to him. I sometimes wondered whether Angel knew anything about it, though I’d never ask him.

  “The club’s my family,” Angel says again, pounding his fist softly on the table. “But so’s Rock. I gotta do my best by both of them.”

  “You will, brother.”

  “We’ll see.” He eyes me. “But that’s part of why I wanted to talk to you. I need you to tell me more about the situation with this fuckin’ fed.”

  I nod. I figured this was where we were heading. “I pretty much told you everything I know. She’s here investigating a tip her office got, about a trafficking ring operating out of this area. I ran into her at the Downtown Diner, and then again a couple days later. She eventually told me why she was here. And it just so happened that not long after that, Isabel mentions in passing that some girl from Ukraine came into the hospital with injuries, and she looked like she’d been held hostage or something. Turns out, once they get a translator in there, that she was being sold for sex. And when I came into the room and the girl saw my cut, she started freaking out, screaming and shit. And she’s convinced one of the men who was fuckin’ her was wearing this exact same cut.”

  “So this fed chick is gonna come knocking on our door.” His jaw goes hard.