by Krane, Kasey
“Hey Knight,” I said, unsure of where this was going. Knight had always been one who was completely loyal to Ghost. Why, when everything seemed to be going to shit, was Kngiht calling me?
“Ghost is gonna kill you,” Knight said urgently. “He’s calling all of the members together and he’s going to take you down. He sent Tats over to get my new SUV. Just bought it yesterday. You need to watch out for a light gray Escalade.”
Escalade? Why the fuck was Ghost having Tats drive around in a fucking Escalade?? Surely Ghost would realize a vehicle like that would draw attention.
I walked over and flicked my fingers through the mini blinds in the window and sure enough, there was the Escalade, parked across the street, open as could be. Tats was even worse at surveillance than Ghost was.
“He’s here,” I said grimly. “Watching us from across the street. Thanks, man. I appreciate the heads up.”
“No problem. Look, I know we don’t always see eye to eye…”
“Because you follow Ghost like a lost puppy?” I said with a smirk.
“Fuck you man,” Knight said. “Look we were all iffy about this whole shit with the Sangre. None of us ever trusted them. And now a lot of us are starting to regret following Ghost’s orders.”
“I get it man, no need to explain yourself.”
“Watch your back,” Knight said and he quickly hung up the phone. It was time to set a trap for Ghost & Co.
Jules came out of the shower, a towel wrapped around her head, another towel wrapped around her body. I swallowed, hard. Looking at her was like the best porn ever, ‘cause I could fuck her when I was done drooling over her.
I had to keep my mind on the mission. I couldn’t allow myself to be distracted by…I glanced down her body…curves that would drive a priest insane.
“Hey baby, you need to get dressed and come over to the other room when you’re ready. We gotta hurry - I think Ghost is going to move quick on this.”
I walked through to the other side before I could be tortured further by watching her towel drop to the floor, and closed the door firmly behind me. If I didn’t get to watch Jules get dressed, neither did my men.
“Listen up!” I hollered, and gave a sharp whistle through my front teeth. The room instantly quieted, the febrile atmosphere dissipating instantly. I started with the most important thing: My reason for rebelling against Ghost. I quickly gave a rundown of what Jules had pieced together. A ripple went through the men when they heard about the little girls being kidnapped. They may be hardcore bikers, but they weren’t perverts.
Ghost couldn’t tell the difference, and that was going to be his downfall.
“The other club members are going to see this as us going AWOL,” I said, “but we can’t risk these decisions anymore. If we let it continue, Ghost is going to bring this club down. We’re all going to end up behind bars, and a bunch of little girls are going to end up as sex slaves for the rest of their lives. We can’t let that happen. A lot of you guys have been telling me for a while that I never shoulda let Ghost take the position of President, and you’re probably right. I just didn’t want to split our club down the middle, and I thought I could keep Ghost in line.
“Turns out, I can’t.”
I walked over to the front window and pointed out, even though the blinds had been drawn for privacy. “We’ve got ourselves a tail across the street. Knight just called to warn me. Tats is there, watching us. I know that just this morning, Tats was our brother. And I know it’s hard to face the idea that we’re going to have to take him out. I don’t want to, and if we play our cards right, we won’t have to. But every one of us has to understand that we’re taking up arms against our brothers. It’s time to take a vote. I’m putting it on the table right now.
“Yay or nay - we take out Ghost and any other brother we need to take out, and we re-establish the Dead Legion as a legit club. No more running guns. No more working with the Sangre.” I flicked my eyes around the room. “Roll call vote.”
I was happily surprised when every last one of them voted “Yay.” It was one thing to support something in theory; it was something fucking else to lay your life on the line to make it happen.
“Okay then, we’re a go. Judge, I need you to go through the back window in the bathroom. Tats is watching out front. He won’t see you leave. I need you to go to my apartment,” I fished my keys out of my pocket and tossed them to Judge, “and get my truck. I need you to get the ammo and guns in the gun safe, and the bulletproof vests in the closet, and bring it all back here. Oh, and,” I paused for a second and glanced around the room until my eyes fell on Jules, who’d finished dressing and joined them, “the sex doll.”
Loud laughter erupted in the room, as Jules’s eyebrows shot up. I gave her a sheepish grin. Talking over the laughter, I said to Judge, “It’s on the top shelf in my bedroom closet, left-hand side. She’s, uh, currently deflated.” The laughter, which had begun to quiet, filled the room again. Jules had her arms crossed across her chest, and a look that clearly said, “I can’t wait to hear it, buster” all over her face.
“Come back and park in the back and pass the shit through the bathroom window. Got it?”
“Yup,” Judge said, and walked into the bathroom. Two of the members helped shove him through the tiny bathroom window. For what was probably the first time in Judge’s life, being the smallest guy in the room was a positive.
“All right, while he’s rounding up our supplies, we need to discuss strategy.” The men gathered round.
38
Jules
I watched as Bishop wrestled the plastic blow-up doll, with garishly large breasts, into a chair at a small desk they’d pulled up to the front of the room. He pushed and prodded at the arms until they were resting on the table in a casual pose.
Totally believable if, say, you weren’t looking at the doll face-to-face but rather, were looking at the doll at night through a window with filmy curtains drawn over it and lights on, backlighting the doll.
Once Bishop got the doll into position, a brilliant red teddy adding to the supposed allure of the damn thing, I whacked him on the shoulder.
“You have a blow-up doll??” I hissed.
“Can we fight about this later?”
“If you live through this, I may kill you anyway!”
He picked me up in his muscular arms and kissed me, his tongue delving into my mouth, making me forget everything.
Even the doll.
And the fact that there were other men in the room.
Or really, that the world existed at all. I gave back as good as I got, and right as I was about to wrap my legs around his waist and kiss my way down his sexy chest, he dropped me, winked, and walked off.
Which is when the whistles from the other members finally registered. I turned brilliant red.
Okay, maybe I’d forgive him for the blow-up doll.
Bishop switched on the clock radio next to the bed and tuned it to a local country western station, and then turned it up as high as it would go. He had Judge grab the clock radio from the other motel room, plugged it in, and tuned it to the same radio station. Together, they created a reasonably party-like atmosphere.
If you didn’t think about what was about to go down, of course; I was trying very, very hard not to think about it.
Bishop grabbed my elbow and steered me into the bathroom and into the tub. It wasn’t until he started lifting me up that I realized that he intended to shove me out the window.
“Hold on a moment here!!” I yelled, and started beating him about the head and shoulders. He continued to shove. I grabbed his head and wrapped my arms around it, pulling him into my chest. I figured my breasts would be a sufficient distraction to stop him in his tracks.
I noticed with great satisfaction, it was absolutely true. He started nuzzling my breasts, biting and sucking on them, and I threw my head back and giggled. I wiggled my way back down to the ground…tub - who does this kind of shit in a bathtub?? -
and looked up at Bishop, grinning. Despite his double frustration (not managing to get me out the window, nor managing to fuck me) he grinned back down at me.
“Okay buster,” I said sternly, “why were you trying to shove me out of the window?”
He suddenly grew serious. “I…just got you back, Jules. When I left you yesterday at the airport, I…” he took a deep, shuddering breath, “I thought you were gone forever.
“And then, you came back. Magically, wonderfully, amazingly came back. Even if you fucked up your hair, I have you here again. In my arms. And I never thought that would happen to me. When I saw you at the police station, I didn’t know if I should kiss you or kill you for stirring up yet more shit.
“I can’t lose you again. And I sure as hell can’t lose you in a gunfight between members of the Dead Legion. Tonight, you’re watching the death, and hopefully rebirth, of the most important family I’ll ever be a part of. That I have to do this is slowly killing me inside. That you could be hurt during it…
“I can’t. So go. Judge can walk you to my apartment - it’s only a block away - and hide out there until the shooting is over. I’ll come get you then.”
I reached up and brushed the strands of hair out of his eyes as I stared up into them, my own swimming with tears.
“Bishop, I know that now is not the time to discuss our future together, but know this: I’m not leaving you. Not now, not ever. This whole blow-up may have happened whether I showed up in Deming or not, but I can say for sure that it is happening right now because of me. I am the catalyst. I pushed and I poked and I prodded and I asked questions until things got so stirred up, you couldn’t help but respond.
“I can’t cause a mess and then walk away from it and hide. I have to be here. Please don’t push me away.”
“This should’ve happened a long time ago, Jules,” Bishop said softly. “I’ve…I’ve been ignoring shit for a long time because I didn’t want to admit that my beloved club was getting in over its head. I didn’t want to face up to the rift growing in it. You forced me to look at my own club and say, ‘That’s not right, and I’m not going to stand idly by any longer while Brock fucks this up.’
“With any luck, I’ll kill Ghost tonight, and this will finally end. But if I don’t, I will die instead. And if I die for this club, I just want to do so knowing that you’re safe.”
He pulled my hands up to his mouth and kissed them, and I felt the tears spill down my cheeks. I’d never had a man kiss my hands before.
I’d never had a man love me before. Not like Bishop. He’d never said the words, but I knew it was true, truer than anything in my life had ever been.
I couldn’t leave him. I couldn’t walk away.
“I’m no good with a gun,” I said quietly, “but what if I hid in the closet, out of the way?”
“You think just hiding in a closet will protect you?” Bishop shot back. He was getting agitated, and I didn’t blame him. But I couldn’t give in.
“What if I have a bullet-proof vest on?” I offered as a compromise. “I’ll be in the other room, in the closet, with a bullet-proof vest on. Ghost will never even know I’m here. I just…I cannot leave you. As hard as it was for you to leave me at the airport, it was just as hard for me to walk away. I just got you back - I can’t leave you alone, in the mess that I made.”
“I guess I’m not gonna talk you out of this fucking stupid idea…” Bishop said grudgingly, and I wrapped my arms around him and kissed him. “Thank you,” I whispered against his cheek.
We walked back out into the main room, and I could feel it, like a tangible sensation I could reach out and touch. The tension was almost overwhelming. I realized that this was a group of men who were about to take on their own brothers, and although everyone here knew it had to be done, the regret was palpable. This was tearing these men apart.
Will they hate me forever for causing this? I wondered as I hunkered down in the closet in the second motel room, the thick vest making my movements awkward. Bishop had given me a pistol “just in case” and I sat with it cradled in my lap as he pulled the sliding door closed in front of me. This sealed me into the darkness, leaving me with only my thoughts to keep me company, as miserable as those were. Bishop said he would never let me go. What does that mean? Where are we going to live? Do we have a future together?
I laid my back against the wall and closed my eyes. There was nothing to do but wait.
Wait for Ghost to walk into the trap.
39
Bishop
The bright lights and blaring music seemed almost garish to me - painful, even. I was standing, ready and waiting, at the door that connected the two rooms. I had a perfect view of the front door and blow-up doll, and had all of my brothers behind me. All talking had stopped; jokes had disappeared a long time ago.
We were ready.
BAM!
The door flew open and Ghost came barreling through, aiming and killing the blow-up doll with one bullet to the head. The doll collapsed in on itself into a pile of pink plastic and red sequined fabric. Ghost let out a yelp of surprise as the doll deflated before his eyes and he spun, trying to find his quarry.
It was the last thing Ghost would ever do. Before his cry of surprise could even fully escape his mouth, I shot him in the back of his head. One bullet through the brain. I didn’t bother with a chest shot - I knew Ghost would come wearing a bulletproof vest.
I could grieve for my childhood friend later.
And then, my president crumpled to the floor in front of me. Blood spread out on the floor and splattered on the wall and I stood over him, my heart breaking in two. My brothers poured out of the dark adjoining room into the main motel room, guns at the ready, and Ghost’s men stopped in surprise and cries and shouts of chaos reigned.
I took careful aim at the two blaring clock radios, and shot them.
BAM! BAM!
Almost instantly, the room was deathly quiet. My brothers had their guns trained on the members in the doorway.
Not a sound was made.
“Put your guns on the table,” I said quietly into the silence, “and then come up and stand up against that wall.” I gestured, keeping my eye and Roger trained on my former brothers as they filed in past me, dropping their weapons on the table as they went.
Finally - finally - they were lined up against the wall. All eyes were on me.
“Ghost and I have been friends since we were born. Since our dad’s started the Dead Legion together. I don’t think it was even a conscious choice - it was just the way it was. But when Ghost took over when his dad died, something changed inside of him. I don’t think it’s any secret that we haven’t seen eye to eye on anything in a very long time.
“But when he started pushing us to sell guns to child traffickers…that was over the line. I know you were told that I just went a little crazy and that I had to be killed for the good of the club, right? What Ghost wasn’t telling you is that the Sangre kidnapped a bunch of little girls yesterday and were going to use the guns we sell them at midnight to protect these girls as they transport them to their buyers for a life in the sex trade.”
Some of my mates blanched. At least a few of them could be saved. It gave me hope.
I plowed on.
“Eight, nine, ten-year-old little girls. I can’t help make that happen, I don’t give a good flyin’ fuck how good the money is or how angry the Sangre will be at us backing down.
“So I’m giving you a choice - right here, right now. Either give up your cut right now and ride away from Deming and never come back, or stay.
“Stay with me as the president. No more gun running, no more helping the Sangre do the evil shit that they do. The Dead Legion are going legit. Only legal cargo in our semis from here forward.
“I know that isn’t the gang that many of you newbies patched into, so I’m giving you this one chance to walk away. Know right now that the money ain’t gonna be as good. I won’t lie to you and say that legal cargo
will be just as profitable as illegal, ‘cause it ain’t.
“But that desire to make money no matter the cost - no matter who it hurt - is what got us into this mess in the first place and I’m gonna get us the fuck back out of it.
“Know that if you choose to leave tonight, you will stay gone. If I see you again in the streets of Deming, I will kill you.
“Choose now.”
After a few moments of deafening silence, some of the men started to shuffle forward, dropping their cuts on the bed and walking out the door. I watched them carefully; Roger still trained on them as they moved. These were my brothers - men I’d stood beside, bled beside.
I felt like a small part of me was dying.
Or maybe not so small. I’d worked so hard for so long to keep exactly this from happening. It was my worst nightmare coming true.
And then, as Butcher walked by the front table, his hand shot out to grab a gun from the pile on the table. Fucker! I shot a bullet through the front window and glass rained down, sparkling in the light as it fell. Butcher yanked his hand back and ran for the door.
I let him go. Butcher was an asshole, and I had just fucked with his world. Too much blood had been spilled tonight; I wasn’t going to shed more unless I was forced to.
I caught the eye of some of the older members as they their laid his cut down on the bed. The hatred in their eyes. As one of them walked past me, he spit in my face and proudly walked out the door and into the night.
I wiped the spit from my face, never letting Roger waiver. It would take a lot more than spittle to rattle my composure.
As the former members roared out of the parking lot, sirens began wailing their way in. Ambulances, cops, even a firetruck pulled up in the parking lot. Someone must’ve heard the shots and called 911.
Dammit - just what I wanted to deal with.
I hailed the chief of police, Dereck Hendrix, and as the rest of the cops spread out through the motel and parking lot, I walked with Chief Hendrix towards the adjacent room so we could talk in private. The remaining Dead Legion - the only Dead Legion, I reminded myself grimly - had pulled alcohol out, and the drinking had begun. As Hendrix opened the adjoining door, I spotted Jules, looking a little lost. A little bewildered. And a lot shook up.