Garcia had been dead almost twenty hours and so far no blow back from the Mexicans. But I knew their plan: wait until our guard was down. It's exactly what I would do. Vengeance only clouds your judgment. So it was time to put the next part of my plan into effect.
The nightclub Diamonds was empty save for one black girl dancing around a pole on the stage. Her tits were gigantic and fake, just begging to be licked and sucked. A big black bouncer frisked us before letting us in. We already knew not to come armed. That was the only way Byron would see us.
Leland, Big Mike, and I walked through the club, staring at the chick dancing. She shoved the pole in her cleavage and rubbed her breasts up and down, curling her finger at Big Mike to come over. “You big enough to handle all this?” she asked, pushing her tits together.
Big Mike nodded with a blank stare. Leland pulled him away. “Holy shit, Mike, didn't you get enough from the sluts we got you last night?”
“Big Mike always has room for more,” he replied.
I couldn't help but chuckle as we made our way to the back of the club. Four black guys with assault rifles stood on the second floor, looking down on us. Byron and two of his associates were sitting in a dark booth. One of the associates stood up and frisked us again.
“They're cool, Wayne, leave them alone,” Byron lit a cigarette between his fingers. “Take a seat gentleman.” Byron was a small guy and about the same age as Cole. His head had a little bit of black hair left and a long scar ran down his left eye. Cole and him used to be big rivals in the 80's until they finally came to a peace agreement that's been in effect ever since. “I was sad to hear about Cole retiring, but congratulations to you, Sawyer.”
I nodded. A black woman wearing only a bra and thong came around with drinks and passed each of us a shot of whiskey. Big Mike got a long look at her before she left. There was no way Mike was going to leave here without getting some black ass.
Byron lifted his glass. “Let me propose a toast, to the continued alliance.”
I raised my glass and clinked it against the others before knocking it back. The warm liquor was exactly what I needed. I relaxed in my seat as my heart rate slowed.
“What can I do for you guys?” Byron asked, taking a drag on his cigarette.
I smiled and leaned forward. “We took out Garcia yesterday.” I collapsed back in my seat and admired the shocked look on Byron's face.
“We're talking about the leader of The Death Merchants right?”
I nodded. “The one and only.”
“Yo bitch, get these men another round of drinks.” Byron started clapping. “I'd kiss you right now if you were sitting a little closer, Sawyer.”
“Then I should stay where I'm seated.”
Byron snuffed out the cigarette on the table. Big Mike had turned his attention back to the stripper on the stage. “So let me guess. You took out the leader and now you want my MC to go in and pick up the pieces.”
“That sounds about right. The Mexicans will be running around with their heads cut off. Like shooting fish in a barrel. You finish off The Death Merchants and we split their territory fifty-fifty.”
The waitress came back around and set down a tray of short glasses filled to the brim with whiskey. Byron took a sip and set the glass back down. “Why didn't you tell me about this plan sooner?”
“When the new sheriff called me in to see her a few days ago, I knew I needed to speed up my timeline.”
Byron downed his entire glass of whiskey in one gulp. He wiped his mouth and smacked his lips. “Yeah we can take care of the Mexicans. We might need some more firepower.”
“And you'll get whatever you need. The Rabid Dog MC is here to help.”
“Then I have a lot of work to do.” Byron stood up and we followed him out of the booth. He grabbed my hand and pulled me in for hug, slapping my back hard. “You're a crazy motherfucker, Sawyer.”
“We'll talk soon, Byron.”
Leland and I walked towards the exit and Big Mike got lost near the stage. “Oh Byron, is it okay if one of my men stays behind,” I called out to him.
“He can have all the black pussy he desires,” Byron yelled.
Big Mike jumped onto the stage and buried his face in the stripper's chest. That man must be a sex machine.
Leland opened the door for me and I shielded the sun from my eyes before putting on a pair of Ray-Bans. I swung my leg over my Harley 750 and put my helmet on.
“You think the Blacks can really take out the rest of the Mexicans?” Leland asked.
I shrugged. “Not sure. But it's a win-win for us either way. When the smoke clears after their bloody war, we can ally with whoever is left.”
Leland grinned and started his bike. “Sounds like a smart plan, Boss.”
So far things had gone my way but there were so many cogs working that it was hard to see the entire picture. We rode back to the clubhouse and I settled in the gym. Pumping iron was the only way to keep my mind off things.
If I thought about the future of the MC anymore, I'd explode. I lay back on the bench press and lifted the bar weighing two-hundred pounds. My muscles ached as I pumped the weights up and down. Sweat pooled on my forehead and chest as I strained with every rep. The pain was the only thing keeping my head clear. The Rabid Dog MC needed a strong leader but more importantly, a leader who could keep them alive.
I groaned as I set the heavy bar down. My heart pumped hard and I wiped the sweat from my brow. Time to go to work.