Chapter Twenty-Two
(JAX)
Bruno can tell a liar by his eyes. I told myself, as I mounted my bike in the parking lot by the docks.
Bruno had kept me alive until now. I reasoned that maybe he didn’t fully blame me for the lost shipment of whiskey. But I couldn’t count on that. In any case, I had no idea what would unfold when I stepped into the Bullring – the Black Devil’s clubhouse. Perhaps, before I even got a chance to explain, Bruno would make an example of me in front of my brothers’ at the vote.
I needed to sit Bruno down and tell him about Antonio’s betrayal. I needed to tell him that I had forced Antonio to leave town. I only hoped that Bruno wouldn’t plant a bullet in my head before I had the chance. I had a deep seated belief that when I explained to Bruno, face-to-face what had happened, that his faith in me would be restored.
The light of day had died, and the docks behind the parking lot were calm and quiet, except for the distant sounds of generators running from inside the boat’s hulls, and the hum of a crane in the distance. I slid my key into the ignition of my Harley and fired up the engine; my headlights illuminated the car park and the road beyond. As I had expected, Antonio’s bike was gone.
Antonio had made a break for it the second I lowered my gun from his head. He had crumbled under my threat. It seemed ironic that Antonio had run from the barrel of my gun like a fucking coward, yet he’d spent his entire adult life starting wars and killing for blood like a machine with no feeling. Pathetic. In the face of death, Antonio trembled, sweated profusely, and looked up at me with wide, terrified eyes. He realized that he was afraid to die.
In what could’ve been the final moments of his life, I didn’t pity him. I did, however, grant him the respect I had promised all of my brothers, and gave him an ultimatum instead—leave forever, or die.
The vote for club president was at 9 pm that night. I knew the clubhouse was a fourteen minute ride away from the docks. Judging by the time on my watch, I had less than six minutes to reach the clubhouse in time. When I did arrive, I would be late, Antonio would be missing, and it would be the first time I would see Bruno since the fuck up with his Whiskey shipment.
I rolled out of the parking lot and flew down the highway. The road was clear and I tore through the tarmac at 70 mph. I closed my eyes for a few seconds to try to suppress the angst I felt inside. In that short time, I wanted the darkness to envelop me and suck up all my problems with it. Jumper still wanted my blood. Chloe’s life was at risk if we stayed together. Sheila still held Roy’s debts. I needed to stay alive to try to fix all of the shit that had been caused, and picturing Chloe’s face in my mind gave me the determination of an army to succeed. I wouldn’t—couldn’t lose her. I suppressed that gut wrenching thought.
As I passed through the center of town, the roads and pavements were busy. The nightlife threw light across the streets and music boomed from clubs and restaurants. When I stopped at a red light, I stared at the heavily pedestrianized pavement, and the people sitting in the windows of eateries. The main street was swarmed with regular people living out their unremarkable lives. I imagined what it would be like to live in a pleasant world that wasn’t drowned in hate and retribution. Just before the traffic light changed, I looked toward the road again. A large billboard, with an advertising campaign for women’s lipstick, featured a pair of pursed lips with the tagline, ‘Never give a sucker an even break.’ I wondered if that was what I’d done by letting Antonio loose.
As the green light flashed, I surged forward and weaved through the traffic to make it to the clubhouse in time. A few minutes later, I pulled up outside the place and parked my bike. I turned to my left and right to count the number of bikes. Everybody was present and already inside.
Fuck! That son-of-a-bitch. Everybody was here. Antonio had shown up for the vote. His ride was parked at the end of the line of bikes sitting there.
Antonio’s arrogance stunned me. I cursed the human part of myself that had chosen to give him a second chance at life back at the docks. Not only had Antonio stayed in town, but I knew why he was in that clubhouse…he still believed he could convince my brothers that I lost the shipment and take the role of president for himself.
Not fucking likely.
I knew I had to kill Antonio. He had double-crossed me by not leaving town. He was a traitor to his club. He almost got Chloe killed. And if I didn’t kill him first, he would kill me. Just like he’d attempted to do on the night he ambushed Bruno’s shipment. Antonio had made his choice, and there was no way I intended to let that cocksucker end this night alive.
The only barrier to me giving Antonio what he deserved was Bruno. I couldn’t kill Bruno’s son in front of him, even if it were for the good of our club. Antonio would have known that he couldn’t kill me in front of Bruno either, without getting a bullet to the skull. After the vote, when Bruno left, I would get the job done, immediately and finally.
I pushed open the front door to the clubhouse. Inside, I was greeted by an uncomfortable quiet. Seven of my brothers had already taken their places for Church and the vote. These were our Lieutenants. The huge table had been pushed into the center of the room, and my brothers sat around it. One empty seat, opposite Dino, remained. As the door swung shut, a few of the guys gave me a chin lift, acknowledging my arrival. Aside from that, they were hunched over with their heads bowed. They looked uneasy about what was to come.
A wooden gavel sat on the table in front of Marco. Marco was an original patch member and Bruno’s second cousin. After Bruno, he was the second most senior member of the club. He was a smart, experienced, and dangerous criminal who liked to think that laws were made to be broken. Back when the club formed, Bruno told him he could be part of the MC, so long as he did his outside business on his own time. The truth was, Marco was a man in a class all his own, he had every fraud office in America jumping through hoops for decades, and had never been convicted. Even though Bruno wanted the economics of the club to be straight and honest, Bruno needed Marco as his right-hand-man in the early days, while I was still learning the ropes. Without Marco’s help, the club wouldn’t have survived the first few years. As a result, he commanded a great deal of respect from the members of the club. Under ordinary circumstances, Marco was a relatively easy going guy around friends, but tonight, he had a serious and glacial look on his face. Everyone did.
Antonio approached the main room from out back and shot me an icy glare. He avoided the meeting table altogether and instead, opted for a high vantage point ‒ a seat at the bar.
“Sorry, I’m late guys,” I said and paused for a beat. “I ran into…an old friend,” I added, shooting Antonio a glare back.
Antonio smirked smugly, as though trying to provoke me.
Marco gave me a half smile and opened his mouth to say something.
Before he could, Antonio spoke, “Take a seat.” He feigned a smile as he chewed on a wad of gum. He poured what looked to be a triple shot of whiskey into his glass on the bar. I didn’t know what kind of game he was playing at. All I knew was I didn’t like his facade one bit.
As I took a step forward, I heard the door to the back office open.
Heavy footsteps echoed into the main room that were getting louder and closer towards us. It was Bruno.
Bruno gave me a nod as I approached him on the way to my seat. His eyes froze for a moment, and his neutral expression dropped to one of shock at the sight of my beat up face from the evening the shipment was taken, but I didn’t say a word to address it. Our paths merely crossed as I continued to walk the perimeter of the table to take the only free seat.
Bruno clapped me on the shoulder as I passed.
Quietly, I let out a long held sigh of relief. For the time being, it seemed I was safe.
Bruno sat in his leather armchair in the corner of the room just behind me and Antonio was on his barstool, just ahead, to the right of me.
I couldn’t help but keep one eye on Antonio at all times.
As soon as Bruno and I sat down, Marco stood up and cleared his throat.
Everyone looked up to listen intently to Marco.
“Gentleman, as you know, we are here today to elect a new club president. Two of our men have been put forward: Antonio and Jaxson. Each man will have five minutes to talk before the vote is cast. All votes are final. Does everybody understand?”
The six other heads around the table nodded in response.
“Now, we will start with—”
“I’ll start,” Antonio cut Marco off mid-sentence and stuck his gum under his seat.
Half-of the gang at the table darted their eyes from left to right, glancing nervously at each other. These men had grown to be my family, and I could always tell what they were thinking. Half of my brothers were intimated by that bastard’s arrogance and violent outbursts. I knew the truth—Antonio was a coward. My brothers didn’t have to worry; Antonio wouldn’t be a concern for much longer.
I looked over at Bruno, but he kept a stone face.
I’d heard that Antonio had already been spreading lies about what had happed with the shipment. He blamed everything on me. But my guys wouldn’t believe his bullshit. We were a tight bunch, and Antonio was well known to be a habitual liar. No matter what he said, he would be an easy target to expose when I got to speak my piece.
Antonio turned his back to the group momentarily. I noticed him picking up a large glass of whiskey and swallow down his liquid courage. As he slipped his body down from the barstool, he staggered to his feet a little.
I gave Bruno a look, but I didn’t catch his eye.
Bruno’s face was still impossible to read.
Antonio took a step toward the table, shooting me a wolfish grin as though he wanted to eat me alive. A few seconds later, he cleared his throat and started to talk, “Jaxson Coltrane is a man that wears a mask.”
My eyes met Dino who sat opposite me and the both of us had to swallow our laughter. I looked down at the desk until I could contain myself.
Antonio went on, “You’ve lied to us….your own brothers. You talk like everything you do is for your club and my Uncle Charlie’s legacy, but you don’t give a shit.” He shook his head at me in mock sadness.
I said nothing. I stared at Antonio, my eyes firm and unwavering as he indulged in slandering me. I knew that in half an hour or less ‒ I would be president. And in a half an hour or less ‒ I would take his life.
“Jaxson is scared. He’s scared that I will be voted in as president. Everybody already knows that I’m the only person who can take my father’s place. This club was Charlie De Luca’s legacy…my uncle’s legacy. Jax knows what you all know deep down. Charlie would turn in his grave if somebody outside the family took over.”
My brothers around the table looked at each other again. This time, I got the unnerving impression that they felt Antonio had a point.
“Jaxson knows that when I rightfully, take my place in the De Luca family legacy, he won’t get to be the big man anymore.” Antonio’s voice grew more aggressive. “He won’t get the money my father worked all his life to earn. This was all about money for Jaxson.” He gave me a look of complete contempt. “That was why Jaxson sold the final shipment of whiskey before the vote. He decided he would look out for number one in case he didn’t become president. In case, I became president and kicked him out of my club. $200,000 from my father’s pocket. $200,000 from my dead uncle’s legacy. $200,000 from the club that gave you a life worth living—”
“You’ve got no evidence of that,” Marco interrupted. “We’ll stick to the facts.”
Antonio walked to the other side of the table by the wall, opposite where I sat, and shook his head at me again.
Two things were crystal clear… one was that I wanted to kill this man very much. The other was that it was taking all of my self discipline to avoid attempting it here and now.
Antonio’s face became red, and he looked increasingly aggravated by my presence. He pushed open the window behind him to let in some air. “Let me finish!” he ordered.
Marco glared at him, unimpressed.
Antonio continued regardless, “One more thing. I’m the only one that has noticed what Jaxson has done because I’m the one that cares most about this club. An outsider couldn’t have pulled something like this off. Jaxson is the only one who knows the details and logistics of our operations well enough to steal an entire shipment from under our noses, in our own town. He didn’t call one of us to tell us what was happening as my father’s money was being taken. It wouldn’t surprise me if Jaxson has been defrauding our operations from day one. Only you got greedy when it came up to the vote. Betrayed your brothers. Betrayed your club. Betrayed my father. And you have the nerve to step into the home base of the club that gave you everything and ask to be our leader. You’re a filthy traitor Jax. I only hope my brothers can see that before it’s too late.”
My brothers looked around at each other again.
I could see the doubt in their eyes—they didn’t know what to think. And it frustrated the hell out of me. I couldn’t wait to put a bullet through Antonio’s forehead.
Bruno stood up to yell, “Enough!”
And every person in the room jolted with the impact of his voice.
Antonio walked back to his barstool and sat down. That shut him up.
I stood up to address them all, disappointed that some of my brothers didn’t trust me like I thought they did. I’d nearly lost my life on many occasions protecting these men. Taking a deep breath, I said, “Listen up! I know this club. When it comes to running this MC, I know my shit. I know what it takes to keep the Black Devils MC alive. There are times—”
“Cut the crap already,” Antonio cut me off.
“This is a warning, Antonio,” Marco said, firmly while glaring at Bruno’s son.
I continued, “There are times when I envy the blissful ignorance of those of you that don’t. I spend half my waking hours cleaning up the mess from the day before. Sorting out the mistakes that people in this room make. Still, I come in here, each and every day, and give you the respect I promised you as my brothers. Now, if that isn’t fucking leadership then what is?”
I paused and looked into the eyes of every man in the room.
“Whether you like it or not, there is nobody in this club who can help you more than me. You would be fools not to trust me. I’m not going to stand here and justify myself and my actions because I don’t need to. You all know damn well the sacrifices I have made to honor my loyalty to this club.”
Antonio’s eyes grew furious. But I didn’t give a fuck what he thought. He was already dead to me.
“I ain’t Bruno. And I ain’t Bruno’s son.” I exhaled deeply. “But I’m the best president you’re gonna get. You let me know when you decide that you want me to do something about that.” I looked over at Antonio.
And he glared back, fighting an itch to pull his weapon.
I looked over at Bruno, his face remained impassive, no emotion even flickered in his eyes.
I had no clue what he was thinking. I never did.
BOOM.
The door burst open.
Everyone turned their heads toward the open door.
A firm, male voice spoke, “Nobody move! Antonio De Luca?” Two officers walked over to him; they knew exactly who he was.
“Yeah,” Antonio responded, casually.
“Police. We have a warrant for your arrest.”
All eyes in the room fixed on Antonio.
The two men reached into their pockets for their badges. But I could read the metal seals on their shirts; seals for the state of California police. Out of the open door, I could see the empty cop car that awaited Antonio.
Holy-fucking-shit. This cocksucker was about to get arrested and cheat-death once again.
Bruno and I exchanged a look. Neither of us moved. As the two men lifted their badges, we both noticed Antonio ran his hand along the side of his face, and then he touched his nose for about five seconds. Bruno and I communicated our concern with our eyes. Antonio was up to something.
“We’re arresting you on suspicion of the murder of Frank Gorga,” one officer stated as he held up his badge.
Frank Gorga was our helmsman on the shipment Antonio had ambushed. I thought back to when I woke the morning after I was beaten unconscious at the docks. Frank’s body had been gone. If the body had been at the helm where I’d seen it the night before, I would have gotten rid of the corpse before the police came sniffing around. Wherever Antonio had taken the body, he apparently did a lousy job of hiding it.
Antonio lit a cigarette, only half listening. He smirked at me, unnervingly and looked at his father, waiting for Bruno to call in a favor and buy Antonio immunity ‒ like a would be king of fucking darkness holding himself above the masses.
I sat down in my seat, with my brothers’ by my side, Antonio’s smirk turned into a predatory smile. Above the table, I sat like a poker-player, expressionless. Underneath, I had my hand on the holster of my gun. Antonio now had nothing to lose. I needed to be ready for the gun he could pull on me at any time.
“Put down your weapon, sir,” the first officer said to Antonio.
Antonio pulled out his gun and tossed it onto the table casually, then sat back in his chair. He turned to the officers who stood on either side of him. “You don’t have a leg to stand on. I never stole anything, and I never killed that helmsman or the four other guys,” he stated, nonchalantly. A split second later, the cigarette dropped from his mouth when he realized what he’d done.
Whether it was caused by the alcohol, or simply his cocky-laid-back-dumbass attitude, Antonio had fucked up—his lies had been exposed. The four men I had killed that day in Bruno’s Marina offices, no one knew about them, except for me and the man who’d orchestrated the heist.
Bruno stood from his chair.
And then I realized one other person knew, Bruno who had the mess cleaned up inside his office at the docks. He also must have been the one who’d called in the State Police in the first damn place.
It all made sense to me now—Bruno had known the truth of it.
My brothers’ looked at each other in a moment of realization. Being Lieutenants, they had most likely helped to clean up the docks after the heist. Suddenly, everyone knew that Antonio had stolen the whiskey.
“Oh? Larceny. A misdemeanour two and multiple counts of murder, which gets you life at the very least,” one officer said and grabbed hold of Antonio by his left arm.
The other officer pulled out his notepad and started scribbling.
The guy’s eyes around the table started darting back and forth between the officers and Antonio like a tennis match.
Antonio was quick to defend himself, “You can’t prove anything! My story checks out.”
The second officer looked up from his notepad. “Then you won’t mind coming for a friendly chat with us then, to see if this story of yours checks out.”
Antonio ran his hand over his face and rubbed his nose again.
Instantly, Bruno stood up and took two steps toward me.
“Looks like your luck is running out, Antonio,” I commented.
“What do you know dead-man? You know who’s gunning for you, don’t you?” he snapped back.
So my suspicions of Antonio’s involvement with Jumper were confirmed. Not that it should have mattered what Antonio had wanted to do to me; the police had him for murder.
I looked up at Bruno, but he stared out the open window opposite me. His eyes widened as though he saw something. I followed his line of vision to see what had alarmed him.
THUD! POW!
A shot had been fired through the open window.
Quick as a flash, Bruno had leapt forward. “Ahhhhhhhh!” he yelled throwing his large body over the edge of the table in front of me and landing on top of me. We lay in a heap on the floor. Blood seeped from Bruno’s body onto my shirt. He’d caught a bullet that had been sniped through the open window in front of us.
There was the roar of a motorcycle speeding out of the parking lot of the clubhouse and the squeal of its wheels faded away as it left.
The enraged look on Antonio’s face, and the open window he had opened himself earlier in front of the seat I had taken at the clubhouse – the only seat free when I had arrived – told me everything I needed to know. It was a bullet intended for me. A bullet Antonio was too chicken to put inside of me himself. My fears had been realized, except it was Bruno that paid the price.
I realized Bruno had seen what was happening a split second before it had occurred and he must have recognized Antonio’s signals to whomever was sitting on their cycle outside the club. Bruno had only two choices—let the bullet hit me or take it himself.
Before I could check where he’d been hit—the very large Bruno got to his feet. At least, he was alive. I stood up too, and we both stood clear of the window. Although it was clear that whoever had shot through it had vanished on their cycle.
One of the officers and the men from around the table ran over to Bruno.
Bruno was standing, but he had blood leaking from his shoulder.
“Do it, Jax,” Dino called out.
Fuck the consequences. Time to keep your end of the bargain, Antonio.
I drew my gun and leveled the barrel of it at Antonio’s head.
As I did so, Antonio sprung to his feet and took the handgun from the officer’s holster next to him. He elbowed the officer in the stomach, and with a hard, fierce blow, pistol whipped him like he’d done to me at the docks.
The officer fell to the floor, unconscious.
Antonio pointed the barrel of the gun at me.
An instant later, I fired my gun.
POW. POW.
Two shots were fired in rapid succession, followed by complete silence. Only one of the shots was mine.
In line with where I had fired, a bullet had splintered the glass framed picture on the wall behind where Antonio’s head had been.
Max, one of my brothers, ran over to Antonio’s body, doubled over on the floor, and thrust him back against the wall. Blood seeped from his stomach. He wasn’t dead yet, but slipping in and out of consciousness, and unable to move.
Max raised a blood-soaked hand from Antonio’s belly and stared back at me.
In less than a minute, Antonio would be finished. His head was turned to his left.
I followed his gaze to find Bruno staring him in the eyes and watching him bleed out on the clubhouse floor.
Clunk.
The sound of Bruno’s gun hitting the floor drew my attention to what had happened, just before Bruno dropped his injured body to the ground.
Antonio had seen his father send the bullet into his body that would kill him. I was sure that Bruno had fired his shot to Antonio’s stomach and not his head for that reason. Bruno never missed his target. He’d wanted Antonio to know he had shot him.
“Get him out of here!” Bruno groaned with pain and betrayal. He sat on the floor as Marco put a tourniquet over Bruno’s wound to contain the bleeding.
The single officer that was still conscious looked over at Bruno. Something told me that he and Bruno knew each other and this had figured into the arrest being made in the first place. “Shall I take him to the county hospital?” the officer asked Bruno.
“No!” Bruno ordered as he stood up clutching the bullet wound in his right shoulder as Marco tried to finish patching him up.
I knew Bruno had great political power ‒ he had saved me from the cops back when I was taken on as a prospect‒ but I never knew it could be to this extent.
“Get that out my sight,” Bruno ordered in disgust.
Max and another brother, Spider, hauled Antonio’s body out of the clubhouse while he was semi-conscious and bleeding to death. Blood left a thick trail mark across the clubhouse floor.
Bruno looked at his son’s body with no grief. Instead, he watched Antonio’s body being dragged out like he was something disgusting Bruno has just trodden in. “Self-defense. You hear me, Murray. I was shot. There was nothing else I could do.” Bruno narrowed his eyes at the officer as he assessed him.
I was right; Bruno knew exactly who this officer was.
The officer nodded, obediently. Not only did Bruno know this officer, but he also owned this officer. The cop was one of his many faceless allies in the state police department.
Bruno threw on his jacket, covering his shoulder. He grimaced in pain. “Sunday evening, I would like to file a missing person’s report. My son will have been missing for 48 hours. He will never be found alive, and a body will never be recovered. Case closed.” Bruno reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a wad of money and threw it on the table in front of the officer. “We’ve got a deal here. Right?”
The officer picked up the cash and nodded his head again. “Right.”
Max and Spider entered the clubhouse from outside.
Bruno looked enraged now. “Lose the body. And lose his bike. That traitor threw dirt in the face of my family’s honor. Nobody will ever know of this embarrassment of a betrayal. All they will know is that he disappeared. He is nothing to me. And I don’t want my family to hear anything about this. I don’t want to know where, or what you do with it. All I want to know is that the body is gone. Am I clear?”
“Yes,” both men responded.
Bruno let out a heavy sigh, “All those in favor of Jaxson Coltrane as club president, say I.”
My brothers responded instantly.
“I…”
It was a unanimous vote. The Black Devils MC was now my club.
“If you’ll excuse me, I need to go get myself patched up.” Bruno walked toward the door, and we gave each other a bow of our heads in respect.
A deadly silence echoed in the room.
The last time I saw Antonio’s body, it was shoved into a black body bag outside the clubhouse. As I rode out of the parking lot, I watched in my wing mirror as Spider and Max lifted the body into the back of one of our whiskey trucks then the doors slammed closed. What became of his body immediately after that would remain unknown.