by Ambere Sabo
“I started counting the money before Loki came to get it. I'd text Pops and let him know what the drop should’ve been, and he started keeping track of what was missing when Loki would make the drop.”
“How bad was it?” Havoc asks.
“From June to September, I kept track of every penny Blue Bells made. We realized on busy weekends he was stealing close to twenty-five grand from the club. In just over three months, he had taken damn near a quarter of a million total.”
Rodeo lets out a long, low whistle.
“Two weeks ago, Pops went to Loki’s cabin to confront him with the proof we had gathered about the money. He wanted to catch him off guard, and alone, in hopes, he could get more information that way. He needed to know who else was involved, if anyone was, from the club before Loki lost his life for the betrayal.”. Loki knew the consequences of what he was doing. I hate the fucker, but I can’t deny I worried about who else would get caught up in his mess. Probably some piece of my mama speaking her kindness in my ear.
Drawing a deep breath, I continue, “It was time to clean house, anyone involved would more than likely end up with a bullet in the head right along with Loki. The last thing Pops ever said to me was in a text message.”
I hand Rodeo my phone, and he reads the message aloud, “Loki isn’t here. Stay away from him! Worse than we thought. Headed to the club now.”
Looking up from the phone, “Did he make it to the club?” Rodeo asks.
“No, he crashed not even fifteen minutes later,” I reply sadly. The tears won’t stay hidden this time. But I am the tough girl Pops taught me to be, so they don’t spill from my lids.
“Fuck.” Havoc hisses.
“Do you have any idea what he could’ve found at the cabin or where the money was even going?” Rodeo inquires.
“No, I ended up at Loki’s cabin after Pops’ funeral. I went for a ride to clear my head and just ended up there,” I say looking away from Havoc.
“Cess! What the fuck? You can’t put yourself in situations like that, damn it,” he exclaims. “It was bad enough Hawk had you mixed up with Blue Bells and the money, but to go to the cabin. What the hell were you thinking?” His hands clench into fists, and I know he is seconds from punching something. He stands from his seat.
“If Loki had caught you counting the money, or realized that you knew he was stealing money, do you have any idea what could have happened? Did Hawk even give a damn about the danger he was fucking putting you in? You’re his fucking daughter. Or was it the club first as always?” Havoc yells as he paces the floor.
“I am quite capable of taking care of my damn self, Havoc. You know that shit. I’m the one who offered to help him once we figured out what was happening. Don’t forget that. You know I never trusted Loki entirely. Not since moving into the clubhouse.”
He huffs at my declaration but knows better than to challenge my ability to look out for myself.
“As for the cabin, I was careful. They were all getting fucked up after the funeral. I knew Loki wouldn’t risk looking disrespectful after the bullshit he started about Pops’ will, so he’d be there all night. Besides, there wasn’t anything at the cabin. Nothing that could tell me what had Pops so worried,” I explain.
“What did Loki say about Hawk’s will?” Rodeo asks.
“He’s pissed that Pops gave me control of Blue Bells in the will. He wanted to make sure I kept running it, but Loki wants to take control of it again. Loki said if Pops was gone, then I wasn’t shit to the club anymore, let alone their Princess. So, I had no business running Blue Bells.”
“That’s harsh.” Rodeo’s sigh, lets me know how he feels about Loki’s words.
“Wraith has stepped in as President, and he tore Loki apart after that comment. Told everyone I helped Blue Bells to thrive again, and if Pops wanted me to stay on, I was staying. Told them that I’d always be family and taken care of no matter what anyone else thought.”
With a nod, Rodeo says, “Wraith’s a good man. He’s been around a long time. Hawk made an appropriate choice putting him up to be his VP after Loki declined.”
“What? Loki was supposed to be VP?” I screech.
Rodeo nods, “Loki, was one of your grandfather’s prospects. So, when Wrecker chose to step down as VP, he put Loki up to take his place. Loki’s been in the club longer than Hawk, and he was put up for VP because of that. Of Course, his loyalty to the old crew didn’t hurt.”
I am secretly thankful that Loki wasn’t VP when Pops died, it would have been bad news for me with him stepping into the role of Prez.
“He declined the vote though. Said he’d rather stay on as treasurer because he liked money better than politics. I suspect he’s been skimming money for a lot longer than anyone realized, and he knew he’d have a harder time sweeping it under the rug if someone else started running the books,” he explains.
“I had no clue Loki was up for VP, or that he’d been around that damn long,” I say, randomly spinning the horseshoe in front of me. I can’t help but notice the horseshoes all around the table. What the hell is that all about? I feel like I’m on information overload from all this unexpected information.
Curiosity gets the better of me, and I ask lifting the horseshoe, “What the hell are these for anyway?”
With a laugh Rodeo replies, “Do you know how I got my name?” Why the hell would I know that? Before tonight I didn’t even know who the fuck he was.
I shake my head no at him, so he breaks it down. “I grew up on a ranch not far from town. We had horses, cows, chickens all that shit, and I loved it as a kid. It was a fantastic place to grow up. Hard work, but worth every minute of it.” I nod encouraging him to continue his story.
“When I was a teenager, before I could even ride a bike, I rode bulls for competition. Loved the thrill of it, but I got knocked off one too many times. I was told I had to stop riding, no matter how much I didn’t want to, or I could do permanent damage. I missed the thrill of riding. But I knew if I kept it up, my next ride could be my last, and I wasn’t ready to leave this earth just yet.” His voice sounds melancholy about giving up his passion. I lay my hand on his clenched fist, where it rests on the table, in a show of comfort. His eyes meet mine, as he gives me a smile of appreciation before continuing.
“I was lost for a bit after that, getting into all sorts of trouble, while trying to find my way in this world. My uncle ran this MC back then and got me into fixing motorcycles at his shop. I traded bulls for bikes and never looked back,” he finishes.
“Ok,” I say, still perplexed, “that still doesn’t explain the horseshoes.”
With a shake of his head, “No I guess it doesn’t. When I took over for my uncle as Prez of The Silent Sons I wanted a reminder of the man I was and the man my uncle was in the chapel. The ranch molded so much of our lives that I thought it was only fitting to have some part of that here.” He picks up a horseshoe and twirls it in his fingers.
“We use the horseshoes to signal our vote when an item is brought up for discussion. If the horseshoe is up as a lucky horseshoe, your vote is yes. It means you give your full support and accept any consequences that may come from that vote.”
“And if it’s down that means no?” I ask pointing to the one shoe, not like the rest of them on the table.
“Right,” he confirms.
“What did you vote on tonight?” I ask pushing my luck. That’s club business, but I can’t help myself. I never did learn how to mind my own business.
“Whether to get mixed up with you, and find out what happened to Hawk… or tell you we couldn’t help you with this mess,” Rodeo responds seriously.
I can’t believe he’s being so honest with me, but it also makes me question, “I guess since we’re having this conversation, it went off the majority?” He nods in response and I again point to the unlucky shoe, “Who said no?”
Chuckling, “You really are your mama’s daughter. Do you know you ask a lot of questions you probably sh
ouldn’t?” Rodeo asks with a smile.
I shrug my shoulder, “Just wanted to know who I should try to steer clear of. If he doesn’t want to be mixed up in all this, I don’t want to make him or piss him off just by being here,” I explain.
“Well, you already fucked that up,” Havoc laughs out, and I look at him in confusion. Pointing at the horseshoe, he says, “That’s Venom’s shoe, and you already pissed him off by touching his tequila.”
Shit.
Chapter 5
Venom
Two weeks. Two damn weeks of trying to track down the source of where the cocaine is coming from, and all I got was this crappy little bar.
I’m parked outside of Porkies, which is apparently where the dealers get their supplies from, waiting for the piece of shit I fucked up earlier to show. Once he gets here, I’ll head inside and see who he’s meeting. All he would give me is that they call him Caine. Real damn original, someone named Caine selling cocaine, seriously?
The longer I sit here, the more agitated I become. I hate waiting. It doesn’t help that I’m in the club’s work truck, antsy as hell. I hate being caged in. I couldn’t bring Baby though. she would’ve drawn too much attention if I rode her out here. I know I’m right on point with that thought too, when I hear the distinct rumble of bikes pulling up.
Looking in the rearview mirror, I see Havoc, Dash, and the Princess roll up. Damn it, what the hell are they doing here? Havoc looks pissed. Jumping off his bike, he goes right after the Princess. She’s already off her bike and storming to the bar.
Pulling her arm, he forces her to face him. I don’t envy him one bit as I notice the fire in her eyes. She goes off, “Havoc, I am going into that bar whether you like it or not. If this fucker had something to do with Pops’ wreck, I will find out my damn self. Now get your hands off me!”
Havoc lets her arm go yelling, “Cess! I know you want to know what happened to your pops, but this is our first lead. We need to do some recon first, not go in guns blazing.” Her body stiffens at his words. “And yes, I know you have your nine in those boots of yours, but that is not the way to handle this.”
My attention drops down to her feet. How the fuck does she fit a nine into a pair of cowboy boots? She’s really a sight to see. Without the heels on from the other night, she’s damn tiny. Doesn’t stop her from getting up in Havoc's face, well as much as she can anyway.
“And? What if I do? What else is there to find out, huh?” She pushes his chest, forcing Havoc backward a couple of steps. “Snoopy said some fucker named Caine was spending the money from Blue Bells that he tracked. Seems like he has some fucking questions to answer, don’t ya think?” she exclaims.
Fuck, they’re here to see Caine too. I do not want to get mixed up in her shit… But if she goes in there now all fired up, I’ll never find out if he’s the fucker bringing in the coke. I hate drugs with every bone in my body. I may be in an MC, and I know some of the brothers mess around with it, but they do that shit on the road or far away from me.
Guess I need to make my presence known before she hauls ass in there. Getting out of the truck, I slam the door catching Havoc's attention, but the Princess is still yelling about something as I walk up behind her shorts-clad ass.
Havoc looks at me, confusion evident on his face. Paying her no mind, he asks, “Venom, what are you doing here? Why are you in the work truck?” She finally shuts up, and I feel her eyes on me.
“I’m in the work truck because Baby draws too much attention. Something I see you didn’t think of,” I say pointing to the bikes they rode in on.
Havoc runs a hand through his hair as I continue, “I followed the coke trail here, and from what I heard from your loud asses, we plan on seeing the same guy. Though for all of our sakes, I hope they have music on or some shit with the carrying on the Princess was doin’ out here.”
Dash chuckles from behind Havoc, as Cessy gives me a look that could kill.
“What is your fucking problem?” she hisses. She is a feisty handful.
“Right now, my problem is the fact that you’re out here carrying on like a spoiled brat, Princess,” I explain.
She marches over to me, getting right in my space, but Havoc pulls her back to his side before she has the chance to start anything. Her chest heaves in anger that he didn’t let her go off on me, but he knows I won’t put up with that shit, not even from her.
“What do you know about Caine?” I ask turning to face Havoc.
“Cess has been keeping track of the serial numbers on money that’s been coming into Blue Bells. We had Snoopy trace the numbers, and he came up with some guy named Caine, who apparently owns Porkies,” he responds pointing at the little hole in the wall bar.
“And?” I ask, irritation evident in my voice.
The Princess pipes up with, “And? And what? I am going to go in there and ask his ass where he got the money from,” she screeches at me, further pissing me off.
My eyes snap to her icy blues, “Do you know what Caine looks like?” without giving her time to answer I continue, “Could he have been to Blue Bells any time in the last few weeks? How does he make his money besides this crappy bar?” A look of defeat crosses her face and I know I have made my point.
“I don’t know,” she admits unable to look me in the eye.
“That’s why you don’t go running in there half-cocked, possibly getting yourself killed, without answers. If this fucker is working with Loki, do you think he’ll tell you?” I pause my rant for just a second to let my words sink in before I answer my own question. “No, he won’t, but he sure as fuck will tell Loki that you know about the money. If Caine doesn’t kill you, Loki will.”
“How do you know about Loki and the money?” she asks in a suspicious voice.
“Rodeo filled me in, just in case there was trouble that I’d need to deal with. So why don’t you go on home now and let the men take care of this Princess,” I shoot back before turning to walk away.
“Cessy,” she grinds out.
“What?” I ask, turning back to face her.
“My name, asshole. My name is Cessy, and I am not going anywhere besides into that damn bar,” she says straightening out her spine and looking me right in the eyes.
Fuck, I don’t need this shit right now. “Fine! Then you’re going to sit your little ass down and wait for my contact to show up. Once he’s inside, we’ll go in and act like we're just stopping in for a drink. We’ll see who this fucker Caine is. Do you understand me?” I grit out.
“But…” she starts.
“Sit. The. Fuck. Down. Cessy,” I say with disdain, trying my damnedest not to go off on this chick. She must sense that I am at my wit’s end and thank God, she walks over to straddle her bike. She gives me a death glare the whole fucking time.
Apparently, she thinks she’s being intimidating, but watching her mount that Chief has my dick hard. I head back to the truck, needing to stay as far away from her as possible. Damn, I hope my guy doesn’t take all day. I don’t have the patience for this right now.
Leaning against the front end of the truck, I pull out my cigarettes and light one up. I need to calm down, so I don’t fuck this guy up once we get inside. I need answers, so that cannot happen. If this motherfucker doesn’t want to give them to me, well that just means more fun for Havoc and me later. I smile at the thought. Hearing someone walk up behind me, I turn to face Havoc.
“That’s one big shit eatin’ grin you’re wearing. Should I be prepared for a long night?” Havoc asks.
“We’ll see how this goes down, but it’s always a possibility,” I reply inhaling a long puff from my cigarette. As I blow the smoke out of my lungs, I feel the tension easing out of me.
He smirks and walks back to the bikes, no doubt to tell Dash what’s up. That’s one reason I love that asshole. He’s just as happy as I am at the possibility of fucking someone up. Truthfully, there isn’t any other brother I’d want at my side when shit pops off. He’s good people.
A broke down Honda pulls into the front parking lot of Porkies, and I tip my head to Havoc. “He’s finally fucking here,” I say as he walks back to me, “Think we can leave Princess behind?” I ask him.
“Fuck no, you can’t,” she mouths off. Hell, how did she hear me?
“No luck, dude. Cessy hears all,” Havoc says with a chuckle.
“Well, let’s go get us a drink,” I grumble as we head towards the bar.
“You with Havoc?” I question over my shoulder to the Princess.
“What? What the fuck does that have to do with anything?” she stammers with irritation.
“I know you ain’t his Ol’ Lady Princess, but walkin into Lord knows what you’re either going to play his Ol’ Lady or mine,” I smirk when I see her eyes go wide at that comment.
I’m not prepared for the way her pupils dilate as she answers, “Oh this will be fun. I’ll be your chick, Mr. Broody,” she sasses me.
Mr. Broody, what the fuck?
I must’ve stopped walking and didn’t even realize it. I start moving again when Dash says with a chuckle, “Mr. Broody! That’s awesome.” He gives her a fist bump, irritating the piss out of me.
Glaring in his direction, I threaten, “Call me that again, and it’s your fucking ass.”
In two strides I’m over to the woman, who will no doubt make me regret the idea of her playing the part of my Ol’ Lady, with a quickness. I throw my arm around her waist and pull her to my side just as we walk in the front door.
My guy is sitting over in the back corner by himself. So, I steer her towards the far end of the bar, getting as close to him as possible. I don’t like being this far away from any exits, but damn if I don’t want to hear what this fucker says.
We settle at the bar on some barstools that have seen better days. Hell, this whole place has probably seen better days. I’d bet money this place is only a front for the drug business. No respectable business owner leaves his place looking this broke-down without reason.
Princess orders some fruity shit while the rest of us get a beer. Beer is definitely not my drink of choice, but we need to keep clear heads in case something goes south. The bartender comes back with Cessy’s drink, and I growl in her direction as she props her crossed arms on the bar right under her tits giving him a show of her cleavage.