Fury
He stood in the dark, shoulder angled against the wall close to the back door, watching out the glass into the shadow-filled back yard. Propped up like he was, he could hold steady despite the exhaustion that weighed down every limb. Fury and Mason had gotten back to Fort Wayne late the previous night, climbing off the small private jet owned by a friend of the club and walking into an uproar.
Members from every chapter had contacted them, leaving messages on their phones and at the clubhouse. The content of the communications all followed a central theme: Was their family safe?
Pike had hit a raw nerve by going after Juanita like that. Even before his little piece of douchery, it had been Lalo and the Diamante who had shaken the biker world to their core, attacking and killing not only people on the outskirts of the clubs with which they’d gone to war but actively targeting the old ladies and children of officers. Unspoken in their life as outlaws had always the reassuring knowledge that no matter what, the family would be above it all.
Instead of going home, he and Mason had gone straight to the clubhouse, launching into a series of video conferences to sort out the damage. Fallout so far appeared to be only a few members from a couple of far-flung satellite chapters, new charters who didn’t have as deep a history.
Movement in the shadows pulled his gaze into focus, and he watched as a cat crept into view. It played with a tall strand of grass for a moment, rearing up on its back legs and batting at it as if it were a toy. He watched as the cat ceased its activities, dropping to flatten itself to the ground, becoming hardly noticeable in the grass. There were no other animals in view, but the cat behaved as if there were another predator close by, or prey. Even sharks will abandon a feeding ground when a larger shark goes swimming by.
He sighed. They’d also fielded a dozen calls from other clubs. Wanna-be sharks, circling, darting close to see if there was blood in the water yet, asking pointed or vague questions by turns, trolling for information more than anything. Still, an annoyance that had to be handled. So many details to hold in his head, and every time he wanted to bounce an idea off Mason, the man had been engaged in dealing with another facet of the threatening implosion.
Bethy hadn’t been pleased when she found out how long he’d been back in town before he called her. Not pleased, but she got it, equating what he’d been doing to her working a sticky deal for one of her artists. I’m a lucky motherfucker, he thought.
His phone buzzed, vibrating silently in his pocket and he pulled it out, glancing first at the time. It was just after two o’clock, which was way too late for casual calls. When he looked at the caller’s name, he lifted his lip in a silent snarl. It was the president of a western club: Chief, from Legends, and for him, it was only midnight.
Shit.
Thumbing the button to accept the call, he greeted the man with a more pleasant tone than he thought was deserved, holding himself on this side of rude. “Chief. Whatcha need?”
“Fury. You with Mason?”
Straight to the business, then. Fine. Fury could deal with that. Keeping his voice low so as to not wake Bethy, he answered, “Nope. He’s home with his old lady by now, hopefully sleeping peacefully.” The implication was the Rebels didn’t have a single thing to disturb their sleep. “You got me for now.”
No response for a moment, then Chief said in a tone that bled caution, “I have to let you know of a thing recently done in my club.”
“Okay.” This wasn’t protocol. Not at all. Fury wasn’t national and hadn’t occupied a seat at any tables where the Legends would be bringing grievances or proposing deals. Chief calling him about anything to do with official Legends’ business made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. “Spill.”
“You were in Kansas City not long ago. Only recently did the purpose of your trip come to my attention.” That chill which had raised his hair settled in his gut, anger warring with an unease. “And then tonight, I received a call from mutual friends in Florida.” Chief had to be talking about Sparks and his crew, the Jailbreakers MC. “They spoke at length about an event which seems to be pretty common knowledge, but you need to know it was news to me as of an hour ago.” So Chief hadn’t wasted any time, picking up the phone quickly to sort out whatever this was he had done against the Rebels. “I’ve gotta tell you, Fury, I was surprised when they told me you were dogging Mason’s footsteps. Surprised, but pleased. You always deserved better than Deacon would be willing to throw your way.” Fury made a face, but kept himself silent, letting Chief finish his brownnosing. “Are you the one I should talk to about a Legend misstep where it comes to offending the Rebels, or should I be interrupting Mason’s rest this night?”
“Probably better off letting me run interference for you, if that’s needed.” Fury looked out the window, seeing the cat was still flattened in the grass, eyes shining in the moonlight, but immobile and silent. “Talk to me, tell me what you’re looking for.” He wouldn’t offer to help, wouldn’t make anything that could be construed as a promise, no matter how long the Legends had been friendly with the Rebels.
“I patched a man about a month ago. There’d been a lot going on out here. You wouldn’t believe the fallout from what happened in Florida.” With three sentences, Chief gave him everything he needed to know, but he let him keep talking, sensing Chief needed to talk through the story as he saw it in his head. “He’s been in the life a while, sold me a story about moving home to be around family out in Wyoming.” Legends were based in Utah, but they had other small chapters dotted here and there, some with only a handful of members. More a riding club than anything the Rebels claimed, still the Legends offered the kind of brotherhood so many men needed. “I knew him, knew his family. His nephew runs a chain of bike shops all along the front range of the Rockies.” Jesus. “He didn’t offer a reason for leaving his previous club, and knowing the troubles the club was facing, I didn’t reach out.”
“You aren’t obligated to, Chief.” This was strictly truth but wasn’t normal practice. Chief not calling meant his club didn’t always vet their members like they probably should.
“But knowing where he came from, I should have.”
“Shoulda, woulda, coulda. Pike came to you, did he?” Fury sighed. “And now, you’ve just heard what he did to Watcher’s old lady. Am I right?”
“You are. I did. The story coincides with an absence from my territory, too. He’s defenseless, as far as I’m concerned.” Chief seemed to settle into a comfortable cadence of information distribution, and Fury was reminded that the man had been a federal agent at one time. Might need to pick his brain about how to help Mason deal with Justine. “He returned a few days ago, claimed a breakdown out west, but when I had my guy pull records for the club phone he had on him, we saw the lie. He’s made several stops, and I think you’re gonna wanna know about all of them.” Chief cleared his throat. “I’m hesitant to travel with him in tow, because he’s aware of my knowledge now, so the man claims himself entirely unwilling to have any kind of face-to-face with yourself.” A chuckle, which was so out of tone with their conversation it caught at Fury’s interest, wondering what would be coming next. “Surprisingly, he feels differently about Mason and would welcome a visit. At least, that’s the story now. Should I tell him we’re going to have company soon?”
“Fuck, man. We just got home from New Mexico.” Fury sighed, then shrugged, even knowing Chief couldn’t see the movement. “You’ll get someone who will have the authority to do anything needful, okay? I can’t say who, not until I talk to Mason, and we are both knee-deep in managing various things. But yeah, tell him you’re going to have a visitor. Tell him you’ll let him know who, soon as you know. Then tell him this, because I doubt he knows one way or the other, but he needs to know we’re after his ass in a very real way. Tell him ‘Juanita lives,’ and see what he says to that.”
“What if I leave him in suspense and allow whoever arrives to dispense that knowledge? Keeping him on tenterhooks doesn’t bother me at all.” Chief paused and cleared his throat again, making Fury wonder if that was a tell he was nervous. “You get me, right? I’m personally down with whatever is needed to satisfy the Rebels. If you have questions about Pike’s guilt or his whereabouts, we’ll share the logs we have. You want info about the other places he stopped along the way, we’ll work to get you what you need. I will say, if you want to censure me for allowing him to patch in without picking up the phone, I’m down with that. But, I’d rather you not include my men, because this is all on me.”
“Like the best leaders, you take on the full burden, don’t you?” The cat was gone, fled at some point in the past few minutes, the place in the yard where it had been empty now. “I’ll pass your thoughts along to Mason, see what he says.” Movement along the edge of the shadows evolved back into the cat, walking daintily across the grass, wending its way between clumps with head held high, tail arched even higher. “And Chief, you’re talking to the man who delivered Pike’s beatout and let him walk away. You can’t be second guessing yourself any more than I am. Hold that package, brother. We’ll be in touch.”
“See you soon.”