Xander
“Who the fuck’s ready to party?”
The booming voice of Cutter, one of the members of the Shadow Hunters, tore through the bar. Loud cheers followed his words, answering his question. The Shadow Hunters who’d just piled into their motorcycle club’s headquarters rushed to the bar, grabbing bottles of whiskey and as many bottles of beer as they could fit in their hands. One of the men turned on the jukebox, rowdy, raunchy rock music filling the space. The “psst” of beer bottles caps being pulled off sounded here and there above the din of the men cheering and hollering.
And at the bar, sitting by himself, a serious expression on his face, sat Xander Ricci. A small glass of whiskey on the table next to him, he considered the day they’d just had. He knew that he should’ve been celebrating; after all, they’d just broken the back of the Devil’s Spawn, the rival gang that’d been a thorn in their collective side for the last few years. But all he could think about was what lay ahead, what sort of work they’d need to do to fill in the vacuum left by the now-defunct group.
“Xander!” shouted the same booming voice that’d announced the party. “What the fuck are you doing over here?”
Xander turned and was presented with the towering figure of Cutter. One of his oldest friends in the MC, Cutter was down for a bottle of booze and a wild night. Now that the Devil’s Spawn had been smashed, he had all the excuse he needed to get drunk and rowdy as hell. He peered down at Xander with his watery blue eyes, the only feature of his face visible among his long thick beard and even longer hair.
“Just thinking about things,” said Xander, rolling his drink on the table.
Cutter scoffed and plopped down into the chair next to Xander. In front of them, the rest of the Shadow Hunters hadn’t wasted any time in starting the party. The crowd of men did shots, slammed beers, and carried on in the loud manner in which the guys liked to party. The click of pool balls cut through the low roar of the party.
“Man, you’re always thinkin’ about shit,” said Cutter. “You need to cool it with that BS; you’re gonna give yourself a fuckin’ headache.”
Cutter reached over to the bar and grabbed a bottle of whiskey, along with a pair of shot glasses. He set everything on the table and poured two drinks.
“We just beat the living fuck out of our biggest competition in the whole fuckin’ state,” said Cutter. “And you wanna sit here brooding or some shit. No way.”
Cutter pushed one of the two shot glasses over to Xander.
“Drink,” he said.
Part of Xander wanted to return to his thoughts, but there was some sense in what Cutter was saying.
“I guess it’s not every day you beat the piss out of another gang,” he said, raising his glass.
Cutter’s face lit up as he raised his glass.
“To the next sorry group of fucks that gets in our way,” said Xander.
“Hell, brother—I’ll drink to that.”
The two men tapped their glasses and downed their shots.
“And not a single one of our boys is in the hospital or nothin’,” said Cutter. “It’s like we’re fuckin’ invincible.”
“Don’t mean to piss on your parade,” said Xander, “but thinking that you’re invincible is the easiest way to find out just how wrong you are about that.”
Cutter waved his hand through the air.
“Come on, man,” he said. “You know we smashed those shitheads ’cause we’re the best. Whoever’s left of them is at home, licking their wounds.”
“Important detail there,” said Xander. “‘Whoever’s left of them.’ We didn’t take out every Devil’s Spawn, and what’s left of those fuckers is thinking about just how to even the score, while we’re sitting here getting shitty wasted.”
“Always such a fuckin’ downer,” said Cutter.
“You know it’s true,” said Xander. “They’re not gonna take this sitting down.”
“Then we’ll smash ’em again,” said Cutter, as though it were the most obvious answer in the world. “And this time, we’ll make sure they don’t get back up again.”
Xander smirked. He appreciated Cutter’s boundless optimism, but he knew that it was only a matter of time before the Devil’s Spawn struck back. And as desperate as they likely were, it wouldn’t be a small thing—they’d be out for blood.
Cutter scanned the crowd.
“Where the fuck’s the bossman?” he asked, pouring himself another shot.
“Good question,” said Xander.
Xander flicked his eyes through the crown, looking for the compact, stocky frame and wild mane of blond hair belonging to Grayson, the president of the Shadow Hunters. But he couldn’t see him anywhere.
“Must be in back with Lizard and Guts,” said Xander, referring to the VPs of the crew.
“Man,” said Cutter, “they’re probably doing the same shit you are, sitting around and plotting. What’s wrong with having a little fun, for fuck’s sake?”
Just then, Xander spotted the skinny frame of Lizard cutting through the crowd, his black jeans and leather vest standing out on his body. He had a serious expression on his ugly, scarred face, and his beady eyes were locked onto Xander.
“Uh oh,” said Cutter. “Looks like Lizzie wants to give you a talking to.”
Lizard stopped in front of Xander.
“G wants to talk to you, Xander,” said Lizard in that low, smoky voice that Xander always thought sounded funny coming out of a little man like him. “Don’t keep him waiting.”
“When the boss calls,” said Xander, getting out of his seat.
“Hey, man,” said Cutter. “We’re taking the party around town, probably heading into St. Louis. Your ass better be coming along.”
“Count on it,” said Xander, the idea of cutting loose suddenly sounding pretty nice to him.
“Let’s move it,” said Lizard.
Xander and Lizard made their way through the crowd and into the back hallways of the headquarters. Soon, they arrived at the simple wooden door to Grayson’s office. Lizard gave the door a rap.
“Get in,” said Grayson, his rich, deep voice sounding through the door.
Lizard opened the door, revealing Grayson seated at his long oak desk. His legs were propped up on the desk, and his large hands were folded on his lap. Grayson was a sharp-faced, muscular man with narrow eyes that were so brown they were almost black. His hair was wild and red, giving him the impression of being on fire. He sat still and calm as always, never seeming to be bothered by anything. He’d been the club MC for as long as Xander could remember, and always seemed to have the boys’ best interests in mind. Xander respected Grayson, and was ready to hear why the boss had brought him in.
“Just the two of us,” said Grayson, flicking his eyes to Lizard then to Guts, the other VP, who stood looming in the corner like a golem, his bald head reflecting the light above.
The two VPs nodded and left without a word. Grayson gestured to one of the chairs across from the desk, and Xander took a seat.
“What’s up, boss?” asked Xander, settling into his seat.
Grayson said nothing, letting the silence hang in the air.
“You don’t seem like you’re in much of a celebrating mood,” Grayson said after a time. “Sittin’ all by your lonesome.”
“Just thinking.”
Grayson gave a gesture with his hand then said, “Okay then, let’s hear what’s on your mind.”
“Well, like I was saying to Cutter, we did a hell of a fuckin’ job tonight, but things aren’t just smooth sailing from here on out. The Devil’s Spawn are still out there, and it’s only a matter of time before they try some kind of play for revenge. And that’s not even getting into who’s going to move in now that the Spawn’re out of the picture.”
Grayson said nothing, instead staring at Xander with his typical, piercing expression.
“I’m down for gettin’ rowdy tonight, but I just think it’s not important to lose sight of the bigger picture, is all.”
Grayson again let the words hang in the air. Finally, after a few long moments, he nodded.
“I agree,” he said. “You boys deserve to cut loose tonight, but those Spawn fucks are gonna be out for blood before too long.”
He took his boots off the desk and sat forward.
“And don’t think I didn’t notice the role you played in taking them out. This was some do-or-die shit, and you were right there on the front lines. That’s the kind of shit I like to see. So, I’ve got a special assignment for you.”
Xander raised his eyebrows.
“What’s that?”
“I want you to take point on the next phase with the Devil’s Spawn. You’re dead on: the more time goes on, the more they’re going to be able to rebuild until they can get to a point where they’re able to take us on again. My top priority is going to be making sure we keep growing, that we claim more territory and more distribution. Not to mention product. I’m gonna make sure that we’re good and strong for when the Spawn, or whoever the fuck else comes sniffing around, we’re ready for them. But that doesn’t mean I want the Spawn to be left to their own devices.”
“And where do I come into this?”
“You’re going to be doing a little recon, keeping an eye on those fucks. If all goes according to plan, we’re going to outpace them by so much that they’ll never hope to stand a chance taking us on again. But they’re desperate, and desperate people do stupid shit. So, you’re going to be my eyes and ears with the Spawn. Keep tabs on ’em, make sure they don’t get up to anything that they’re going to regret. They’re going to be your special project.”
Xander nodded. He didn’t say it, but he was glad that Grayson had the foresight to make sure the Spawn didn’t come around to bite them in the ass.
“I think you’ll do well with this,” Grayson said. “I wouldn’t put you on it if I didn’t think you would. And if you do as good of a job as I think you can, I just might be able to find a place for you overseeing some of these new distribution lines once they’re set up.”
Xander couldn’t help but raise his eyebrows. An overseer position like that was no small thing- it’d result in enough steady money to make him a very wealthy man, very quickly.
“I’m on it,” said Xander.
“Good,” said Grayson. “But I got one more little project for you tonight. Important shit.”
“Yeah?” asked Xander.
“Yeah—go get drunk. Have some fun with the boys; you’ve earned it. You’ll have plenty of time to ponder all this shit over, so you need to learn when to relax. Go get good and wasted, find yourself some good pussy while you’re at it. If I hear that you’ve been sitting at some table by yourself sipping whiskey and ruminating, you and I are gonna have words. Got it?”
“Got it,” said Xander.
“Now get out of here,” said Grayson. “We got a shitload of work ahead of us. But tonight’s about the Shadow Hunters.”
Xander nodded and left the room. Moments later, he was back with his boys, another shot of whiskey in his hand courtesy of Cutter. But as he cut loose, he couldn’t help but think about the Spawn.
And he couldn’t shake the fact that he had a bad feeling about what was to come.