by Cat Porter
I was sure he did. I knew Hobbit had been stoking the fires of revolution all this time.
I flicked my butt to the side. It fizzled and hissed in a puddle. “Good.”
“What do you get out of it?” Vig asked.
“Exposing lies and broken promises. Creating a rupture. Cleaning house, like I said.”
He smirked. “Sounds all noble. You ain’t gonna stage your own takeover, too? Although, you’re a man down—with Wreck gone. Gotta say, they don’t make ’em like him no more. He was a good man. Old school all the way.”
“Yeah.” I glanced down at my scuffed boots. “My club, my concern. You’d better confirm the support at your end. Notice, I had to fill you in on your own prez’s doings.”
Vig rubbed his chest. “Don’t worry your pretty head about me, Diggy.”
“I won’t. You just be where I tell you, when I tell you.”
Vig smirked. “All right. I’ll keep playing up our little hostility thing to set the stage all proper.”
“I’ll return the favor.”
I zipped up my jacket and turned to get on my bike, but Vig remained motionless.
“There something else?” I unstrapped my helmet.
He leveled his gaze at me. “This was easy.”
“What’s that?”
“Dealing with you,” replied Vig. “You’ve always been such a fucking self-righteous pain in my ass. Today we were able to talk, understand each other, agree, set a plan in motion.”
“We’ve both got the same objective, and it’s very clear.” I settled on my saddle. “And so you and me are extremely clear. There is no blood to be shed. That goes without saying as we’re all brothers and we’re talking about our presidents. Or am I asking too much of your ambition?”
He slowly shook his head, twisting his lips once more. “Nah, I don’t want that blood on my hands.”
I pulled my bandana tight over my head. “I hope so. According to Shakespeare, that kind of bloodbath comes back to haunt you, bites you in the ass.”
He made a face. “Shakespeare?”
“Yeah, you never read Macbeth or Hamlet in school? Things get way fucking bloody after you kill a king. Big tragic mess.”
Vig shrugged. “I liked reading Hägar the Horrible. Still do.” He let out a roll of laughter, his thick belly quivering, as he put on his gloves.
Was it a gift that Vig could move forward in his shabby, dirty little life without being tainted by a memory or stunted by a regret?
“I’ll be waiting to hear from you,” he muttered as he adjusted his glasses.
What must it be like to glide forward, to only consider what you want now, in this moment or a little later on? Was Vig ever affected by a thudding on his heart, a reverse pull in the flow of his blood?
“Dig—”
He didn’t have to say anything else. I had noticed the Kawasaki with the suited-up rider at the gas station on the other end of the lot when I first got here. He had to be tailing Vig.
“Lucky for you, I’m in the mood to lend a brotherly hand.”
“I’d be much obliged,” he muttered.
“Is this what you meant by loose ends?”
“Yeah.”
I put on my helmet. “How you want to play it?”
“You stay here. I’ll take off, him on my tail, and you come up from behind. We’ll get creative from there.”
“All right. Nothing like a little game of cat-and-mouse to break up my day.”
Vig got on his bike and started up his engine. He swerved out of the parking lot and got onto the road.
This was no major highway though. It was a narrow country route in between towns in eastern rural Montana, away from the Bakken oil traffic, that we had chosen specifically.
The Kawasaki followed.
Game on.
I counted to twenty and got my bike onto the empty road.
A few miles later, there was Kawasaki man on Vig. Vig drifted to his left as I accelerated, shooting forward, until I was on Kawasaki’s ass. He jerked his bike to his right, tearing ahead on the road.
“Let’s go, motherfucker.”
Vig broke out, thrusting forward on the road, on the rice burner’s tail, me keeping tight on him on the other side. We burned through the ice-cold wind, gaining on him. I motioned with one hand to Vig to keep on. He nodded, and I eased up on my speed, hanging back. I checked my mirrors. Checked again. My hand went to my Kimber 1911 in my holster across my chest as my eyes darted to my side mirror one final time.
An SUV came up the low hill behind me. My hand went back to the handlebar again. I squinted at the reflection of the vehicle in my side mirror.
Was that the family from the restaurant? Did they get lost and turn around? Fuck.
I pulled back from Kawasaki and kept to my right to let the Ford Explorer pass. The little boy peeked at me over the backseat through the rear window, his fingers gripping the edges of the headrest.
Go. Go. Go.
Kawasaki picked up speed, putting a long bite of road between him and me, and he shot toward Vig. The Explorer swerved slightly to the left to avoid Kawasaki. I hung back. The Explorer’s left blinker flashed.
Yes. Turn. Get the fuck off the road.
Vig weaved in and out of the road, making Kawasaki’s life difficult.
I would make it short.
Explorer Dad veered to the left at a fork in the route, the little boy kept waving, and they were gone.
I sped toward the two bikes, and my right hand slid across my chest once again. Adrenaline surged through my veins, my eyes drilled holes through my visor. Kawasaki was focused on the Vig Games. I drew my 1911 out of my holster and aimed.
Squeezed.
His tire blew.
Squeezed.
His leg spewed. His head fell back, and he lost control of his sewing machine. Spinning out, the Kawasaki flew off the road. I slid my Kimber back in its holster.
I circled back to where Kawasaki was ditched on the side of the road, Vig coming up behind me. His body twitched on the rocky ground covered in pine needles and brush, moans rising from his helmet. I kicked him over onto his back.
Vig unclipped the guy’s firearm and tucked it in his jeans. “Let’s get him out of sight.”
We lifted him, and he groaned as we dragged him into the woods. I went back, got his bike, and rolled it over.
I removed my helmet. “I’m gonna go find my casings before it gets dark.” I hiked back to the road. It was a bitch, but I found them, and I brought my bike deeper into the woods. Vig did the same with his bike a few moments later. I sucked in a breath, wiping the sweat from my upper lip.
Vig had flung up the rider’s visor.
“Know him?” I asked.
“Yeah. One of the dogs that I worked with. Hit man. Works for the lower-level Russian I had dealings with.”
“You make friends everywhere you go, don’t you? You need any information from him?”
“Nah, I know. I know.” Vig slid out his gun, attaching a silencer.
A moan. “No!” A hand raised in the air from the crumpled body. A pair of brown eyes flared with anguish.
Vig blew three stiff shots into Kawasaki’s belly and chest. He sniffed, taking a step back while opening his cell phone. He pushed a button and waited. “Hey. Need you to meet me. Got a situation. Drop everything else.”
I stared at the lifeless body.
Situation dealt with.
“I appreciate this,” said Vig. “You didn’t have to help me, but you did. That’s two saves in one day.”
I crouched by the body, ripped back the torn fabric over the gunshot wound on his leg, poking my fingers in the charred, bloody flesh. “Does that make us best friends after all these years?”
“I’m grateful, how’s that?”
I removed my skinny knife from the sheath on the inside of my lower leg and gouged it into the oozing wound, past ripped blood vessels, bone fragments until my blade grazed the hard surface of my bullet. I du
g it out. I wouldn’t leave any evidence of me behind in Vig’s hands. I wiped my knife on the leaves and secured it, tucking the blood smeared bullet in my jacket pocket.
“I need someone I can trust right now, Dig. Someone on my outside. Now more than ever.”
“What the hell’s going on?”
“There’s a lot to be had out there. I want my piece. I’m takin’ it.”
“Your piece?”
“For my club. And if things with Cowboy go the way you say, it’s gonna happen for me. I need your help though.”
“I can’t vote for you, Vig.”
He ignored my joke. “This guy was after some goods I stole from his boss. I skimmed a little bit more from the top than they had planned on giving me. Thought they could get one over on the dumbass hick biker.”
“They were wrong, huh?”
“Fuck yeah. I need to hide them. Keep ’em safe till I need to draw on ’em. If you help me hide my diamonds, Dig, you can make your own dreams come true.”
“Diamonds? What the fuck?”
“Half a mill’s worth,” Vig said. “I’ll give you a cut. We’ll figure out the details. Count on at least fifty thousand.”
“A hundred.”
He scowled. “What?”
“I just saved your fucking ass.”
He only shook his head.
There was something to be said for a smart barter.
I crossed my arms. “Seventy-five thousand, and you keep your club off the One-Eyed Jacks and back away from the Blades.”
“Don’t get greedy, Diggy.”
“These diamonds are a once-in-a-lifetime for you, aren’t they? Notch has stars in his eyes where you’re concerned. End the crush.”
If Vig agreed, I could ensure my club’s safety and wholeness, along with making a very thick wad of cash for myself and the club, all at the same time. Butler was doing good things for his chapter, but he could use a serious injection of funds to back it up and make his investment of time and effort really grow. Our network throughout the Dakotas and down into Colorado with our brother chapters would only be fortified. This was good. Very good. But I still needed Nebraska. If I could form a new network with the Broken Blades and have the power and the clout of the Flames of Hell behind us, we would create a firewall between all of us and the Demon Seeds and their new mafia playmates. We would be laying solid ground for our future and be fucking unblockable.
Me working with Vig? Never say never. I couldn’t share this with anyone, not just yet, but it was a risk I was willing to take.
Vig took in a deep breath of air as he hooked his hands on his hips. “I’ll take your offer, Dig. Not because I’ve changed my mind about bringing the One-Eyed Jacks or the Blades to their knees, but because I’ve gotta prioritize right now, and this is huge. Without securing my diamonds, I lose big.” He rubbed a thick thumb across his forehead. “Okay, I’ll make sure the Seeds lay off your club and the Blades. For now. But one day, one day soon, know I’m going to go back to convincing you that it’s the right move, and you all need to make it.” His eyes gleamed at me from behind his thick glasses. “Unless you have principles and high morals and don’t want to dirty your hands with the likes of me behind your club’s back?”
“Vig, my principles and high morals were blown to bits a long time ago. The only principle I have left is my old lady. My loyalty to my brothers goes without saying.”
“That’s what I like about you, Diggy. A dependable traditionalist.”
I touched his shoulder. “Anything happens to me, there cannot be any blowback on my old lady.”
“You got it, man.”
“I need to know you’ll have your eyes out in case something goes bad. You give me or Boner a heads-up if anything starts to fall apart.”
“Young love.”
I gritted my teeth. “She’s pregnant, Vig.”
His head jerked back. “Oh, congratulations. Yeah, I will let you know. Of course. Goes without saying.” He lifted his chin. “Count on it.”
I studied his face. “You got kids?”
“Yeah, I do. Two. One’s in Oregon. The other’s in Wisconsin. I see ’em when I can.”
Vig, the fucking family man.
The throbbing in the left side of my head pounded wave upon wave of pressure all through my skull. I rubbed my fingers along the sides of my face.
Within half an hour, Hobbit showed up in a dry-cleaning van, another Seed at his side. We only nodded at each other. He and his brother bundled the body in plastic and then shoved it in the back, propping boxes and mats over it. They then loaded the ruined Kawasaki into the van, shoving it alongside the concealed corpse. Hobbit and the other Seed got into the van and waited.
“We set?” Vig asked, his eyes hard.
“Let’s do this.”
His lips twitched. “’Course, you know what’ll happen if you don’t follow through on this.”
I smirked. “Oh, I know.”
He opened one of his saddlebags and handed me a small duffel. “That’s all of it. You hide them, secure them, and I’ll let you know when and how much is needed over time. You got a place to stash them? And I don’t mean under your mattress or in your clubhouse.”
“I got a place, several to choose from in fact. I always plan ahead for opportunities like these.”
“I think we need a handshake here, wouldn’t you say?”
I let out a laugh as I took his damp thick hand in mine. We shook once and withdrew from each other. I put the duffel in my saddlebag and locked it.
“Let’s move!” Vig signaled to Hobbit, and the van pulled out. Vig raised his chin at me, hit his kickstand, and slowly took off behind Hobbit’s van.
I hit the buttons on my cell phone.
“Yeah?” came Butler’s voice.
“Got Vig to back off.”
“You’re shitting me! How?”
“Let’s just say, he feels compelled to show me some gratitude. You make sure our Colorado chapter is primed. Once this goes down, they need to be a lock.”
“You got it.”
“We cannot fuck this up, B.”
We couldn’t waste this reprieve Vig was offering from the Seeds blocking us or encroaching on our territory in addition to them laying off the Blades. Notch would fall in line. I could now bring more to the table with the Flames. A newly zoned map of the Great Plains was on the horizon.
“I know, man. I know how important this is. This is good news.” Butler exhaled over the phone. “You heading to Nebraska?”
The shadows of twilight settled on the woods. There was no breeze, no cool air, simply stillness after all the cacophony of bullets, engines, pleading, and pipes. Raindrops haphazardly dribbled on the leaves, breaking that silence. The pattering quickened, growing louder, the cool drops tapping at my upturned face, my leathers, my bruised hands. The sky was marred with thick billowy swirls of dark and light, moving, constantly moving.
“Dig? Dig, you there? What’s going on?”
“Yeah.” My boot kicked over leaves smeared in Kawasaki’s blood, and I rubbed the bloody tip of my boot into a mound of pine needles. The hushed glow of dusk faded, sinking into darkness.
“You heading to Nebraska now?”
“No, got to stop home first. Got shit to do for a few days, and then I’ll head down.” I wiped the water from my face.
I got home, took care of the diamonds, got local business done.
But I never made it to Nebraska.
And my responsibility became my old lady’s burden.
Within less than a year, war erupted between the Demon Seeds and the One-Eyed Jacks without the buffer of the Broken Blades or the backup of the Flames of Hell, sending my club spinning for years afterward.
All told, it was a good thing that Vig’s fucking diamonds forced Grace away from the club, out of South Dakota.
And into exile.
“I’ll take the mama. I don’t like my pussy too tight. You take the girl.”
“Fuck
yeah,” another heavy voice came from the living room.
I couldn’t see much from my hiding place in the closet.
“No, please no! Not my daughter! Take anything you want. I’ll get you more money. I have cash upstairs in a safe. Please, please, just leave my daughter alone. Please!”
He clamped a hand on my mother’s jaw and shook her head like a kid’s toy. “Shut up, lady. You don’t get this, do ya? We call the shots, and we’re not going anywhere, not for a long while. Your pretty house is now our hotel. Best kind of hotel there is. Full service.” He chuckled. “You don’t shut up…” He put a gun in her mouth, and his other hand wrapped tightly around her throat.
Mom struggled and made a choking sound, her eyes wide.
“You ain’t gonna like it,” he said in a singsong voice, laughing.
“Hey, man. I saw some pizza in the kitchen. You want some?” his friend asked.
“What pizza?”
“There’s a dish with pizza on the counter.”
He immediately snapped his head back toward my mother and shook her. “Someone else here? You got another kid. I saw his picture. Where’s your boy?”
Icy needles prickled my spine and froze my heart to a standstill. A scream unknotted in my throat, but I wrestled it back down.
“He’s at football practice,” she sputtered.
He let go of her, and her head dropped to the floor.
He turned to his friend, who I still couldn’t see. “Let’s see that sweet little cunt, huh? Let mama here watch, just in case she thinks she can get away with lying to us.”
The rip of clothing sliced through the thick air.
Eve wailed. She screamed. “Mom! Mom!”
The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. My entire body shivered and shrank.
“No!” Her voice split my eardrums.
My heart was racing, pounding like a freight train on the loose. I rocked back and forth on my haunches, my hands slapping over my mouth.
“Shut her up already, would ya?”
Eve’s cries were muffled, and the sound of choking replaced her yells. Mom cried, small wails escaping from her. Desperate to see her, I brought my face to the crack in the door once again. Her chest shuddered, but she couldn’t move much as her hands were now tied over her head. The monster had his back to me. He was focused on the other side of the living room where the sofa was. Heavy grunting and the slapping of flesh filled my ears. Harsh breathing, like a horse running on a track. More slaps and a string of muttered words I couldn’t make out kept going on and on and on. Vomit churned in my gut. I rocked back and forth in the dark closet. My knees hurt, my eyes stung.