Butch

by Trent Jordan

  Patriot nodded. I’d say the poor guy looked crushed, but this wasn’t the time for sympathy. This was a time for tough truths and tough decisions. And if today’s tough truth was that there wasn’t going to be a strike any time soon, then so be it.

  I looked over to Red Raven to gauge his response. He was trying so hard to keep it together, trying so hard not to look like he wanted to break every table and every chair in sight. Unfortunately for him, the very strain that he put forth to try and make it seem like he was stoic was betraying him.

  “There’s gotta be some other way, this is fucking stupid,” Patriot said. “Maybe we could attack their headquarters.”

  “Yes, yes,” Red Raven said as if Patriot’s suggestion had dragged the words out of him. “That is what we must do. We must strike while we can, and while we have the element of opportunity. Otherwise, the attack by Brewskis would have been for naught.”

  Lane gave Red Raven a look that suggested, perhaps for the first time since that attack, that he was beginning to suspect Red Raven to be the rat. Granted, after his experiences with Axle and me, he probably wouldn’t make any accusations here today, but I could see the breaking point for the club coming into view.

  “While that is certainly on the table, that’s not what this club meeting is about,” Lane said. “This club meeting is strictly to decide if we want to strike while they are at the hospital or not. Does anyone have any information to add or consider?”

  No one else raised their hand. I thought a couple of times Father Marcellus was going to say something, but as someone advocating to avoid a strike, he smartly realized momentum was on his side and didn’t say anything to disrupt that flow.

  “If that is the case and no one else has anything to add,” Lane said. He spoke firmly, but one could tell that if he had to speed up his words at all, he would have sounded shaky or nervous. “Then we’re going to put it to a vote. Five votes are needed.”

  “Five?”

  We usually required a unanimous vote, in part because we liked to give voice to lone dissenters and make sure everyone was on board. But it wasn’t unprecedented for a club president to simply say majority ruled, although Roger had been the last one to do it.

  “Yes, five,” Lane said. “Time is of the essence, Red Raven. I have changed my mind. Four is too few, but we won’t ever reach unanimity.”

  Red Raven said nothing more, but I knew this was far from the last thing that the eldest member of the club had to say.

  “Axle? Your vote?”

  Axle shook his head.

  “Nay.”

  “Patriot,” Lane said. “Your vote.”

  Patriot never looked at Lane, even when being spoken to.

  “No attack,” he said, treating the words like two vile curse words that even his Italian, military-bred mouth had trouble tasting.

  At least you two are on the same page now.

  “You all are mad,” Red Raven said before Lane had even given him the floor to speak. “Your father would be very disappointed in you for letting things get this far. Yes, let’s fucking attack!”

  The entire room needed a second to recover from that. I knew right then that I needed to start putting my plan into action tonight.

  Even if it involved a little subterfuge.

  “Thank you, Red Raven,” Lane finally said, but he didn’t exactly sound grateful for the club elder’s outburst. “Father Marcellus?”

  “My answer is the same as it has been since we started this process, my son,” he said, deliberately sounding in complete control in contrast to Red Raven. “Nay, no attack.”

  “Butch?”

  “Nay,” I said immediately.

  Lane nodded.

  “Red Raven.”

  Red Raven said nothing. Even with all eyes on him, the old man refused to look any of us in the eye. Seeing him this way made me realize just how old he must have felt; though he was in his early sixties, moments like these made him look like he was on death’s door. It was a damn good thing for him, I suppose, that Pink Raven was next in line, although there were no guarantees that Pink Raven would take Red Raven’s spot among the officers.

  “I recognize your frustration, and I appreciate that you want to seize an opportunity like this while we can.”

  I tried to pick out if Lane was aware or suspected Red Raven’s criminal activities. I thought he might have, but he was being overly cautious not to make any claims.

  “But an attack at the hospital at this point would only undermine our larger goals,” Lane said. “We would lose the trust of this town, and if you don’t think the DA would retaliate for something that ugly, I fear you’re wrong. We cannot kill one enemy to replace it with one that will not die in big government. And even if that were not the case, with extra security around, we would be risking too many casualties, both on our side and in the general public, to risk such an attack. I vote nay. We will strike when Lucius is discharged, and they have not yet gotten back into their groove. But not at the hospital.”

  He cleared his throat. Red Raven stood up, kicked his chair back in frustration, and left the room without another word.

  “The vote passes, we will not attack.”

  I stood up as soon as the gavel struck. Everyone else remained in their seats.

  “Butch?” Axle asked.

  Don’t be an idiot, I thought.

  “Going to check on Red Raven.”

  No one else said a word. I wasn’t lying, although like usual, I certainly wasn’t saying everything about my reasoning.

  I exited church and looked around. I didn’t see Red Raven anywhere. I ran outside and saw him saying something to his son. I jogged over, and the two of them separated as soon as Red Raven saw me. The move could not have looked more suspicious, and unfortunately, it made me start to wonder if now Pink Raven was also associated with the betrayal somehow. I wanted to believe not, but with a sight like that…

  “The fuck do you want, Butch?” Red Raven grumbled.

  He had completely changed from the wise old philosopher at the top of the mountain to the grumpy grandpa who hadn’t gotten his dose of melatonin. It was a rather stunning transformation.

  “How are you?” I said.

  More than ever, I was determined not to say anything more than I had to.

  “The fuck do you think I am, Butch?!” Red Raven said. “All of the things that… that boy spoke about in there. He acts like he’s some holy saint who lives to protect this town. Roger Carter knew those things mattered, but he also knew sometimes you had to slit some wrists to drown the Saints in some blood.”

  Red Raven spat on the ground.

  “And now some pussy millennial has taken over the club, and we’re all suffering as a result,” he continued. “I don’t know what the fuck… what the fuck is going to happen, but I can tell you this, Butch. The Saints? They’re going to retaliate against us with a fury unlike anything we’ve seen before. Whatever connections, whatever resources they can pull in, they will use it. And they will stop at nothing short of our complete destruction.”

  I said nothing. Red Raven, perhaps waiting for me to say something, went silent for a couple of seconds before groaning.

  “I know you’re not one for getting swept up in the moment, Butch, and I respect that, but this is a fucking moment to get swept up, OK? We’re not the only ones with members in the military. They’ll use their connections to get bigger weapons. They’ll fight dirty. They will wipe us all out if we don’t go there now! We hurt Lucius, Butch. That, as far as they’re concerned, is the ultimate unforgivable sin. Now it’s time for us to make sure they can’t fight back.”

  “Agreed.”

  “I—what?”

  I caught Red Raven right where I wanted him. I actually thought he was telling the truth about the Fallen Saints striking back harder than they ever had once Lucius recovered; it was inevitable that we were headed for a conflict to end all conflicts. But it was not inevitable that we would lose, and that would b
e helped if we managed to eradicate the rat in our midst. At this point, I was now not just sure; I was as sure of Red Raven’s betrayal as I was the sun coming up in the east in the morning.

  “We should strike on our own,” I said. “Our own force.”

  Red Raven eyed me with suspicion, and a part of me wondered if this very suggestion was allowing Red Raven to see right through me and my politeness.

  “You think that could work,” he said.

  He sounded almost too intrigued by the idea. I could see the excitement and color returning to his eyes. He was beginning to see hope.

  “Yes, yes, tell me what you’re thinking,” he said.

  “You and me, we go and strike without permission from Lane,” I said. “I say we start small, to create a distraction. Just something to make it clear that we are not going to sit idly back like good sports and let them heal.”

  “Interesting,” Red Raven said. “Are you thinking that we attack the hospital?”

  It was like he was walking right into the trap. Or I’m walking into his.

  “The two of us, let’s be realistic, we won’t get to Lucius without getting mowed down,” Red Raven said, finishing his question for me. “But we can cause some havoc at the hospital… yes… yes, this could work, Butch. This could work.”

  “Good, let’s go.”

  “What, now?”

  And wait and give you the chance to strike at me? No way.

  But if we went now, there was nothing in the water that could officially show Red Raven to be the spy. I would only have been the asshole to outright betray Lane’s orders. I had to do something to show that Red Raven and I had gone on a run, and only I was suffering.

  “Fine, five minutes,” I said.

  Red Raven nodded.

  “I need to take a leak, anyways,” he said. “Fuckin’ whiskey doesn’t stay in the body like it used to.”

  I had no reaction as Red Raven chuckled at his own joke. He went into the repair shop, which, I noted, was where Pink Raven had gone when the two of them had split up right as I approached.

  I looked back at the clubhouse. A lone figure stood by the entrance of the doorway, barely visible even from my spot. I recognized by the frame that it was Axle, but from just about any spot outside, he would not have been seen. He was watching. I gave a mere nod of my head, an indicator.

  It was time to put my theory to the test. It was time—

  “Butch,” Red Raven said in a loud whisper.

  I looked over. He nodded for me to come. I stepped forward just enough to still be visible to the outside world, more than a little paranoid about what would happen if I went into the dark place by myself. Red Raven showed no apparent reaction to me stopping right outside.

  “My son will be joining us,” he said. “Just in case things go awry.”

  I nodded, displaying no visible reaction on my face.

  But let’s just say I was more glad than ever to have Axle there to witness everything that was about to go down. Because if things got as bad as I feared they might, I’d need all the help I could get. Brawn and height didn’t mean shit compared to a single bullet.

  The three of us—the two Ravens and I—drove out on our motorcycles to the hospital. We’d decided on a very simple task. We would slash the tires of any bikes we saw that belonged to the Saints, and we’d fight and kill anyone who tried to resist. We were going to try and avoid using guns if at all possible, but we knew well enough that that was probably inevitable.

  I let Red Raven ride to the front, with me claiming the six position. It worked out well, offering Red Raven the chance to take point on a mission of his own, but I had my own obvious reasons for not wanting to get ambushed.

  I wondered, about two minutes out from the hospital, if Red Raven suspected that I suspected him of being the rat. It was far too easy to assume that this was a game where everyone played their roles and never ventured outside their parts. But there was no reason that Red Raven couldn’t have suspected others of suspecting him, and that he couldn’t temporarily become a club loyalist. It would’ve been a hell of a thing if that happened soon—it would have made me look like the rat.

  That was suddenly making this mission a lot more crucial than I’d even realized.

  The hospital parking lot came into view with one last turn. About a quarter-mile away, it was a pretty expansive lot, bigger than most rural hospital lots due to the cheapness of building out on land rather than up on a parking deck. It also meant that the bikes of the Fallen Saints would be more easily visible.

  Unfortunately, the bastards had decided to park in the front, blatantly ignoring the handicap signs. I wasn’t concerned for some silly moral reason, as I truly didn’t give two shits about that. There was the bigger issue of them being able to react faster to us.

  As we pulled in to the lot, I stole one glance behind me. One lone headlight shone, just barely visible in the distance, and it cut out just as quickly as I had seen it. That’s my eyewitness.

  Let’s hope this doesn’t cost me my life.

  Red Raven slowed his bike down, pulled out a knife from his boot, and went over to the first set of bikes. He started to slice tires. Pink Raven did the same, moving a little bit ahead. I watched with some curiosity, trying not to get in front of them, but I knew I couldn’t stay in place forever. Otherwise, I’d start to draw even more suspicion than I already had.

  “What the fuck!”

  Fortunately, I had good reasons for not having to worry about that.

  A Fallen Saint emerged from the front door, running and reaching for his gun. But when he saw Red Raven, he hesitated.

  As far as I was concerned, that was all the evidence I needed. A Fallen Saint had a chance to kill a club officer of the Black Reapers, and he didn’t? What the fuck more did I need to see?

  Fortunately, all of this didn’t stop me from running over to the Fallen Saint, grabbing his mouth, and then slitting his throat. I dropped him to the ground.

  “Let’s go!” I roared.

  I hated leaving behind the body, especially in a public place like this. But sometimes, part of being a violent face to the public was letting the public know we were capable of cruel, violent things.

  Red Raven and Pink Raven seemed to get the hint, peeling out. I followed right behind them. I didn’t know if Axle could have seen what I saw, but I was steadfast in knowing what my eyes had seen. A Fallen Saint refused to kill an officer of the Black Reapers. Lucius would have the man tortured to death for that… unless said Reaper was working with them. I couldn’t say anything about Pink Raven, because frankly, he didn’t matter as much as Red Raven.

  By the time we got back to the clubhouse, Lane was waiting for us. His arms were folded, and a furious scowl was on his face.

  “I just got word that a murder took place outside the hospital,” he said. “Do you have any idea what this means to us?”

  I knew I had to go through this song-and-dance right now. I had a feeling he’d exonerate me when he learned why.

  “I don’t want to see either of you for a week,” Lane said. “Don’t bother coming back here. I need to figure out what to do with you.”

  None of us said a word. But just before we pulled out of the lot to head home, Red Raven stopped me.

  “What we did was like pricking the hide of a bull and blinding it,” he said, apparently returning to his philosophical ways. “Such a move may have prevented immediate retaliation, but if we do not finish the job, the bull will rampage and destroy everything around it. And you know what finishing the job means here.”

  Killing Lucius.

  That’s what you think, to save your own ass. And that’s part of it.

  But I know what it means here.

  “Let’s plan for something the night before Lucius gets discharged,” I said. “Security will be even worse now.”

  “Agreed,” Red Raven said. “You are a good ally, Butch. I look forward to working with you again.”

  And then he
did something I hadn’t seen him do with anyone.

  He offered his hand.

  And as far as I was concerned, that was the same as Judas kissing Jesus just before he betrayed him. Red Raven never shook hands with anyone. He was like the sage too wise and too thoughtful to sully himself with physical touch.

  I took his hand and shook it firmly. I looked into his eyes and saw the soul of a man who felt sure he was about to redeem himself.

  But he wasn’t redeeming himself with us.

  Well, at least I’ll get one date in before everything goes to hell.

  Thea

  “You’re not to see anyone else right now. Don’t go to club parties. You are mine.”

  That text might have felt intimidating or even like a threat, but I knew coming from Brian, it was actually one of the sweetest things that I could have read. It was his way of stating that he wanted to see where things might go.

  And I really tried not to lean into any possible beliefs about where it might go. I truly didn’t know if we were compatible as people. Maybe I was desperate for any human relationship to the point that I was overlooking too much of Brian’s darkness. But at least I was facing a deeper part of humanity than I was when seeing so many biker cocks in my face or between my legs.

  It was the perfect text to wake up to on a Friday morning. It may have canceled my plans for that evening, but it lifted my spirits.

  And it was a damn good thing too because the other text messages that had come to my phone overnight only annoyed me further.

  “I know you haven’t said anything, and I understand. I was terrible to you. You don’t have to respond if you don’t want to. Just know how sorry I am.”

  Shane, apparently, couldn’t let the past die. And, frankly, it was bothering me.

  If he had asked me out, if he had said something to suggest he wanted to see me, I could have seen right through it. I could have dismissed him as trying to manipulate me and sleep with me again out of some twisted, sadistic fantasy.

  But because he was giving me the option to say no, a small part of wanted to see what else he had to say, where else this could go.