Meltdown of Mad Dog (Satan's Savages MC Novel #4)

by K E Osborn

  You’d think I’d feel something, remorse, guilt, sadness for having to take the life of an innocent person. But like I said—I’m a cunt, and I feel nothing but the deep satisfaction that I get from the fact that I can keep distributing my drugs, and everything is staying just as it’s meant to be.

  Take that you Cartel scum!

  “Yeah, yeah, righto. Get the dash cam and pull the wires, we can’t have any trace. And don’t forget to wipe your prints,” I demand. Acid grins as he strolls over to the cop car, and leans over the dead body into the car pulling out the camera, and accessories and cutting all the wires with his switchblade.

  Sirens lowly sound in the distance, and I whistle gaining Acid’s attention. “Time to go, you got it all?” I ask.

  “Sure do, Prez.”

  “Good aim, by the way, Penetrator… Let’s go.”

  He smirks and nods as Acid puts the camera and accessories into his saddle bag. Acid mounts his bike, and we rev our engines then take off in a swirl of dust and gravel in the opposite direction of the sirens. Sure it will be the long way to get home, but better than being pulled over by the heat. Hudson Stone is going to love that we took out one of his own. Smiling, I hammer down, the wind flicking in my face, the engine vibrating through me.

  I take a deep breath knowing we won this round—yet again.

  Finally, I’m coming out on top.

  Mad Dog is victorious once again.

  MAY

  We’re at the indoor gun range for a bit of fun. I thought I’d bring the boys out to have a good time through all the chaos that’s surrounded us over the last few months. Though things have settled down a lot more in the last few.

  I’m setting up my aim in my booth as the lights flicker and go out, sending an emergency green hue lighting throughout the indoor area.

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I yell out, pulling my earmuffs from my ears and stepping out of the booth to see Chops. We look at each other raising our guns toward the door. Last time this happened, we met with some fuckheads. My brothers all step out of their booths noticing Chops and me and draw their weapons too.

  The door creaks open and in walks none other than fucking José, Manuel, and his two other lackeys. Huffing while shaking my head, I aim my gun right at José’s face.

  “Seriously fucker, tell me why I shouldn’t just put a bullet in you already?”

  José smirks and shakes his head. “Because if you were going to, Mad Dog, you would’ve by now. Let’s stop with the theatrics and put the guns down, hey?” he chides.

  So I raise my gun higher and pull off the safety. José laughs and rolls his eyes. “Always shooting for the drama. Look, I’m here on business. Seems you lied to us. I think we’ve been more than fair with you, Mad Dog. We’ve let you go about your affairs your way. We’ve let you think you were getting away with business for long enough, but honestly, did you think you could fool us with your lackey’s dealing your E in the raves and such? We know all about your boy, Randy. He’s making waves in town and not backward in coming forward telling people of his ties with you lot. He’s proud of it, to be honest… poor misguided fool.”

  Raising my eyebrow, I chew on my lip. One, because I’m pissed at Randy for talking about us, and two because they haven’t mentioned Papi. Maybe they don’t know about him…

  “Well, so you know. What does this mean? Randy is going to end up in a ditch? Or you’re going to steal him from us like you have with everyone else?”

  José laughs, shaking his head. “No, nothing like that. My employer has had just about enough of you trying to underhand us. We stated our terms. We’ve been nice about it—”

  “Ha!”

  “Easy, Mad Dog. All I’m saying is, my employer is little unsettled with the way you’re handling this little… disagreement. So he wants to meet to arrange a ceasefire.”

  I glance to Chops. He looks at me, furrowing his brows. “A meeting with the almighty and ever-secretive employer, hey? So, I’ll finally get to know who he is?”

  José nods and smiles. “Yes, he wants you to come alone, though—”

  “Nope, no way, not happening,” Chops butts in.

  José smiles tilting his head. “Well, that would be an unwise decision. I understand that you’re apprehensive about this—”

  “Apprehensive? Apprehensive! My president going into the lion’s den, meeting a guy we know nothing about, on his own. Meeting a guy who’s been killing off people we’ve been associating with, and you just expect us to be okay with that? You have more fucking rocks in your head than Uluru you fucking Mexican scum bag,” Chops defends me and I can’t help but smirk.

  “Now, now, there’s no need for name calling and such. The offer is there, use it as you will. Don’t, and the consequences could be dire… Just saying… How is Amelia by the way?”

  My eyes open wide and my blood curdles with rage. I step forward grabbing José by the scruff of his expensive shirt, pushing him back into Manuel, who has his gun aimed at my head. I glare so viciously at José that the veins in my neck feel like they might actually detonate into a bloody mess. My teeth grit together sending a squeak through my ears, as my blood pumps so fast I’m a little nauseous and dizzy.

  “Mad Dog, let him go,” Manuel demands pressing the cold metal of his Glock to my forehead.

  “It’s okay. Manuel, back off,” José instructs shocking me, as I continue to grip hold of him and stare into his face as close as I can get. “Mad Dog, I know you’re angry, I know you want to run the drugs in this town. But face it, your time in that field is over. We run guns and drugs here, there’s nothing you can do about it. Now, fall in line, come see my employer, or suffer his wrath. The choice is yours.”

  I shove him from my grip, turning around and running my hand through my ratty grey hair. “Fuck,” I murmur to myself. “You’re nothing but a cunt, José.”

  Turning back to face him, he straightens out his suit and nods. “So I’ve been told.”

  Starting to pace the floor, I look at Chops, and he tilts his head glaring at me with his eyes wide. “No,” he chides firmly.

  “Chops, if they know about Millie, I have no choice… You know that—”

  “Fuck her, Prez! What the fuck has she done for you in the last nine years, huh?”

  Glaring at my VP, I flare my nostrils as José chuckles slightly. “Be careful, Chops.”

  “Mad Dog, think about this. You’re going to a place they chose, on your own, no weapons… they’re gonna kill you.”

  José steps forward, shaking his head. “Look if it makes you feel better, Mad Dog can bring a gun, we won’t stop him and we won’t take it from him. My employer just wants to talk. He needs to settle this disagreement face to face, seeing as I can’t seem to make you see reason.”

  “I still don’t like it, I’m coming, too,” Chops instructs.

  “No, I’m not having the President and VP walk into a probable trap. But I’m not going alone either. José, let me bring a prospect, guns included and we have a deal.”

  “Fucking hell, Mad Dog,” Chops murmurs, turning around running his hands through his hair.

  José looks toward Acid and Blade and smirks. “Sure, but I choose the prospect, not you.”

  Damn. “Okay, fine.”

  “You.” José points to Blade.

  Damn it, I wanted Acid. He wouldn’t hesitate to fuck these cunts up for me. Blade would kill for me sure, but Acid doesn’t care about consequences, he’s a fucking madman. Blade is more sensible and likes to think things through, José can obviously see that. “You’re coming with us.”

  Blade nods as Acid growls baring his teeth, obviously annoyed he wasn’t chosen, and we all ignore him, but the Mexicans leer at him like he has rabies. We often wonder that ourselves.

  “When will the meet be set up?” I ask.

  José smiles and takes in a deep breath. “You’re coming with us now.”

  Chops huffs and chews on his bottom lip. “Going with you? Can’t th
ey ride themselves?”

  José clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth. “No can do, hombre. The Prez and Prospect have to come with us, we can’t trust that they will follow us if they ride.”

  “If we say we’ll follow, we’ll follow,” I argue.

  José shakes his head. “Do this our way, Mad Dog, and it will be done quickly. Fight us, and things have a habit of ending badly, remember?”

  Taking a long inhale through my nose, I grit my teeth and sigh. “Fine. Chops take everyone back to the clubhouse and wait for me. I’ll call you as soon as they bring me back here to get my Hog.”

  “Oh, we’ll have someone take your bikes back to the clubhouse for you. We’ll drive you back to your compound when we’re done.”

  Smirking, I round my shoulders trying to relieve some tension. “While that’s a very nice offer, I’d prefer if you stayed the fuck away from my compound.”

  José sighs, rolling his eyes like he’s bored. “And again, this isn’t something that’s up for discussion, Mad Dog. It happens this way, or no way at all, and I shove a fucking bullet in each and every one of your sorry fucking arses right fucking now. I’m getting tired of your backchat, you sorry son of a bitch.”

  Jolting my head back slightly, because José is always normally so level-headed, this is the first time I’ve seen him crack a little. “Geez José, you seem tense,” I remark sarcastically.

  “Well, if you’d behaved yourself like you were supposed to, and didn’t start doing all this underground dealing shit with your lackeys, we wouldn’t have a fucking issue now would we? But now, now I’m in the shit for not seeing this sooner. So now… now I’m pissed, and you delaying me is grating my goat. So if you would kindly shut the fuck up and get on with things, I would appreciate it.”

  Smirking that I’m getting on his nerves, I nod. “Well, seeing as you asked so nicely, please by all means, lead the way.” I wave my hand out in front of me in a sweeping gesture for him to start walking, but he grunts and tilts his head for me to step out first.

  “Prez,” Chops calls out.

  “Yeah?”

  “Watch your six.”

  Nodding, I walk out with Blade at my side closely flanked by two Mexicans. Turning to Blade, I lean into him. “Keep your eyes open at all times, okay son?”

  He gives a curt nod as we’re walked out of the gun range, and through the back exit toward a waiting black Escalade. The Mexicans are all behind Blade and me. I hate that fact, but I know how this works. Suddenly, my arms are being gripped holding my back to someone as a black sack is thrown over my head, and my hands tied behind my back. I would say I’m surprised, but honestly, I’m not.

  “What the fucking fuck?” Blade calls out.

  “Don’t fight them, Blade, it’s part of the process.” I try to ease his fear.

  “Well said, Mad Dog. I’m glad you know how this works,” José chimes right next to my ear. I had no idea he was so close. All I can see is blackness as my hot breath hits the sack and filters back onto my face. I’m marched forward, and I hear the opening of car doors as my senses are jumbled. My sight is gone, that’s a given, so my hearing has increased. It’s strange how that works. Even my smell has notched up slightly, and I can smell the cigars they smoked in the car earlier as I’m bent down and then eased into the back of the SUV. My hands being tied behind my back make for an uncomfortable sitting position, as I’m seated on the back seat. I assume it’s Blade that’s sitting right up against me.

  “Right, get comfy, we’re off on an adventure,” José chirps happily, and I roll my eyes even though no one can see them, then close them. There’s no point keeping them open, I can’t see anything anyway.

  There’s not much talk, just some really bad music that’s grating on my ears when the car pulls to a stop. Lifting my head, I open my eyes—even though I still can’t see shit—the squeak of the back door opening makes my heart start to race a little faster. If I said I wasn’t nervous meeting José’s employer, I’d be a fucking liar. This guy has been in hiding from the beginning, and now I’m finally going to meet him. Fuck knows if this is a trap and I’m about to be slaughtered. Although that doesn’t seem like José’s style, if he wanted me dead, I would be. He’s had a multitude of opportunities to off me, and I’m still kicking, so that can’t be on his to-do list. Hopefully, it still isn’t. My arm is grabbed, and I jolt slightly from the suddenly trapped feeling. I’m dragged out of the car and stumble slightly not being able to see and all, but my feet crunch onto what sounds like gravel.

  “This way,” Manuel snarls. I take a deep breath wondering what lay ahead for Blade and me. Taking ginger steps forward, as I have no idea where I’m walking, the sound of gravel soon fades as I step onto something hard—concrete. “There’s three steps, starting now,” Manuel informs me. So I lift up my foot and search until I find the step. I move up the first step then repeat the process, two more times. I feel like a fucking moron, but I’m blinded so I guess that’s how this has to be. My heart is racing faster than it has for a while, and I must admit my breath is coming in short and shallow bursts. But I won’t let anyone in on the fact that I’m silently shaking in my boots.

  I’m the fucking President of the Virginia Satan’s Savages—we ride hard and fear none.

  The gentle creak of a door opening surprises me. I have no idea where we are, but I was assuming we’d be going to a warehouse or a factory, but the door sounded more like it came from a house rather than anything industrial. We step through, and once inside I can feel the temperature change. Outside this time of year can be quite chilly, but entering inside, the heat wraps around my body warming up my icy cool skin instantly.

  The slam of the door behind me makes me jump slightly. Gritting my teeth at the fact that I probably looked like a fucking pussy to these Mexican scum, I take a deep breath as my arm is pulled again and I’m walking off in another direction. The groan of floorboards beneath my feet only makes me more suspicious that I am, in fact, in a house rather than somewhere industrial.

  “Right, stay here,” Manuel demands.

  I open my eyes waiting for him to pull the sack off my head, but nothing. The heavy footsteps of men walking out of the room makes my heart race faster. I have no idea who’s in the room with me, but I need to know if Blade is here.

  “Blade?”

  “Prez.”

  “Okay don’t say anything, we don’t know who’s here with us. Just are you okay?”

  “Yeah, you?”

  “Yeah, just keep your wits about you.”

  “Good idea, Blade, keep a watchful eye on your President, you never know what he might do,” a voice that I don’t recognize echoes through the room.

  Tensing, I straighten up and open my eyes wider trying to see through the sack, but it’s no use. “I meant watch out for the Mexican scum, not me. Tell your employer to hurry the fuck up, I haven’t got all day,” I demand.

  He laughs, and it’s a sadistic, maniacal laugh. It sends a shudder right through me. “Oh, Mad Dog, you’re as feisty as José said you were. You do not disappoint.”

  “Like I said fuckhead, just get your lazy arse employer down here.”

  He chuckles again. “Mad Dog. Oh, Mad Dog. Woof, woof, I am the employer.”

  My body stiffens, and a cold shiver runs down my spine. Wincing inwardly, I mentally slap myself for giving him lip. I know he holds all the cards in this bargain, but he’s also the reason some of my men are dead. The street gangs I was doing business with, are dead. This fucktard has a lot of blood on his hands, and I kind of have a thing about holding grudges.

  “What’s your name?” I ask.

  He chuckles. “How about I unveil you first, and then we can talk properly.”

  Suddenly the sack is ripped off my head, and the bright lights invade my eyes. I close my eyelids tight trying to stop the invasion and blink a few times trying to get used to the light again. When I can finally see, the room is opulent. All pristine white walls with red and b
rown expensive looking furniture. And then I see him, surrounded by men. He’s tall with short hair, unlike his counterparts. His cheeks hold a slight stubble, he has small scars all over his face, and he has a toned and stocky build like he works out—a lot. He must be in his mid to late forties. He looks like he’s seen a lot of action in his life. Clenching my jaw from side to side, I sniff and tilt my head back looking him up and down.

  “So, now that we can see each other, you know my name, it’s only fair that I finally get to know who the fucker is fucking everything up for me.”

  He smiles and strides up to me. “Mad Dog, you need to calm yourself. You’re in no immediate danger, stop acting out with bravado to cover how terrified you are.”

  I scoff and roll my eyes. “Please, you don’t scare me. You probably have some really lame name like Roberto or Alonzo, or maybe Martina? You could be a woman, your voice is kinda high-pitched.”

  He purses his lips and shakes his head. “Mad Dog, be civil.”

  “Oh, like you’re going to be civil? Tell me this is going to work in my favour today, and that I’m going to walk out of here being able to keep my gun and drug trade. Now, that would be civil. But you walk into this country thinking you own it and can just take over, you’re nothing but the scum living between my toes,” I spit.

  He breathes in harshly through his nose, his nostrils opening up wide as a vein twitches in his neck. “You’re right, things aren’t going to go well for you, especially if you don’t cooperate. I’ve been nice, I’ve played fair. I’ve let your club stand without burning you insignificant little runts to the ground. Now let me tell you, Mad Dog McNamara, I know everything about everything in this State. I know everything about everyone in your club. I know all their families, and I know all their secrets. I can bring you down with a simple click of my fingers. You think the Cartel is a simple organization? No, Mad Dog. We are a worldwide commodity. We rule businesses, courthouses, law enforcement, we have our hand in every slice of pie imaginable. And you? You’re nothing, but an annoying little insect buzzing around my head, that I can’t wait to squash and watch the blood ooze all over my hands. So, Mad Dog, you want to play with the big boys, then test me, see what I’m really capable of, because I’m dying to let my darker side out and stop being so hospitable to you and your thugs.”