“So it’s agreed? We’re not going to bring the rest of the brothers in on our off book activities until the Corpse Killers begin hitting us?” Saul asked. He looked around the clubhouse at his brothers, every head nodding.
“Anyone have anything to add?” Dallas asked.
“Any idea when Abana may take another swipe at them?” Andy asked.
“None. But he sent me a text today with an address where the guns are supposed to be. It’s going to require a little breaking and entering, but I want to do it tonight, before the Killers move them, if they haven’t already. Dallas and I are going, and I need two more volunteers.”
Sixteen of the remaining eighteen members threw their hats into the ring, the other two begging off on this one.
“Kyle, you and Caleb. Kyle, can we use your old lady’s Cherokee?” Saul asked.
“Yeah, no problem.”
“Okay, let’s break this up. We’ve got four hours on the road ahead of us,” Dallas said.
“I’ll meet you back here in forty-five minutes,” Kyle said as he prepared to leave with the rest of the brothers.
“We’ll be here.” He then turned his attention to Caleb and Dallas. “Let’s go put together a toolkit with what we’ll think we we’ll need.”
***
“Where’s Saul?” Bradley asked as Angela opened the door.
“He has business. Why?”
“Do you have dinner plans?”
“No. I was going to eat in my room.”
“Join me for dinner downstairs? I’d like to apologize for today.”
She stared at him a moment, then stepped back, silently inviting him in. She didn’t want to have dinner with him, but if he were really here to apologize, she didn’t want to be a complete bitch. She was trying very hard to throw off that stigma. “I should be the one apologizing to you. I shouldn’t have called you out like that.”
He shrugged. “I can understand how frustrating it can be.” He grinned. “We can’t all be Angela Moncrief.”
“What does that mean?” she asked as she ran a brush through her hair and applied a light dusting of makeup. She wasn’t one of those celebrities who had to be perfectly put together one hundred percent of the time, but she didn’t want to look like a ragamuffin either.
“It means, I think people are going to look back and say you were the greatest actor of our generation, and one of the greatest ever. You make it look effortless because, I guess for you, it is. Not all of us are so lucky.
She looked at him in the mirror. “Are you shitting me?”
He chuckled. “No! I meant every word of it. I’m not the only one saying it either. Don’t you read the trades?”
She snorted and went back to putting on her makeup. “Not much. I stopped a long time ago. Half the stuff they print is wrong, and the other half is innuendo.”
He laughed. “It’s not that bad.”
She grinned. “Okay, you’re right. Half the stuff is accurate; the other half is wrong or innuendo.”
“There, see?”
“If I got my lines right only half the time, most people wouldn’t think I was very good at my job. I don’t have time for that.”
He grinned. “Who’s sleeping with who, who’s divorcing who, who hates who, who’s up for what role. It’s all part of the game.”
“It’s not a game I’m interested in playing.”
He chuckled. “You’re in the wrong business, then.”
She snapped her makeup kit closed and gave herself a quick once over. “Yeah. So I’ve learned.”
***
“They have a camera on the gate,” Dallas said as they sat in Kyle’s Jeep. They had driven to the address Abana had given them and was sitting outside just inside the drive of Lanzo Self Storage in Corpus Christie, working out their plan.
“I’m not worried about that,” Caleb said. “I’m more worried about someone driving in and catching us with our dicks hanging out.”
“It’s almost nine. You really think someone is going to come in here this late?” Kyle asked.
“What about them driving by on the road as we force the gate?” Caleb countered.
“Let’s just do it,” Saul said.
Caleb opened the door. “Somebody come with me and I’ll handle the camera.” He walked around to the back of the Jeep, opened the hatch, and pulled out the mechanic’s gloves and the bolt cutters. He left the hacksaw and pry bar. After slamming the hatch, he and Dallas made a wide loop around the self-storage lot and came up on the camera from behind.
“Give me boost.” Dallas made a stirrup and Caleb put his foot in it, then clambered to the top of the six foot fence. He stood on the top rail as he held to the pole the camera was mounted on, taking the cutters from Dallas. Leaning into the pole, he reached up and began smacking the armored mount until the camera was pointed up. He dropped the cutters and jumped from the fence.
Dallas chuckled. “Primitive but effective.”
Caleb grinned. “If brute force doesn’t work, you’re not using enough of it.”
He and Dallas walked to the gate as Kyle approached in the Jeep. They tried to muscle the gate up but failed. After a few minutes of study, they realized if they cut the pin on the fulcrum arm, the gate would pivot freely. The hacksaw made quick work of the pin and they were able to lift the gate with ease. As Saul held the gate in its upright position, Kyle drove through, then they eased the gate closed again.
***
“What do you see in that Saul guy?” Bradley asked as they had dinner.
Angela shrugged. “I guess I just like cowboys.”
“He’s not a cowboy. He’s a thug.”
Angela bristled. “He might not be a cowboy, but he’s not a thug, either. I’ll remind you he saved my life.”
“Then let the guy that did it go.”
“He didn’t think the guy did it. His reasons made sense.”
“Then who does he think did it?”
She shrugged. “He’s doesn’t know,” she lied.
“I don’t think whoever took the potshot at you actually tried to kill you. If he did, he’s a lousy hit man because he wasn’t even close.”
“Close enough!”
“You want to know who I think did it?” Bradley asked, leaning in close.
“Who?”
“One of the Pagans. Think about it. They’re the only ones who had anything to gain. And he just happened to be right there? It was almost as if he was expecting it.”
She rejected the idea out of hand but held her tongue. “What would he have to gain by doing that? How’d he get the gun?”
Bradley rolled his eyes. “Are you really that naïve? After that happened, you have been falling all over the guy. You’re rich and famous; he’s a nobody. He’s using you, Angela. Can’t you see that?”
She could feel her temper rising. “He hasn’t asked me for a thing. What about you, Bradley? Do you want something from me?”
He felt a cold lump form in his chest. “What do you mean?”
“Don’t even try. I know what you’ve been trying to do. A shomance? Really?”
“I’m doing no such thing!”
“So you deny it?”
“Of course! Who told you that?”
“You deny telling Saul that you were trying to create buzz by implying we were sleeping together?”
“Yes! That’s a bald faced lie, Angela. This is what I’m talking about. He’s using you, trying to separate you from your family.”
She stared at him a moment. She wanted to believe he wasn’t using her, but Saul’s account felt more real and, somehow, she didn’t see Saul knowing the word shomance unless he’d heard it somewhere else first. “Maybe,” she allowed.
He reached across and took her hands. “I’m trying to look out for you, Angela. He’s not what you need. You need to find someone who understands what it’s like to be in the business. He can’t fathom the responsibilities you have to deal with. Dragging you away like he did was irresponsible at best, dangerous at worst. What if something had happened to you?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. This is Texas, for Christ’s sake. You could have said something wrong and some redneck could have pulled a gun on you or something.”
Angela rolled her eyes. Hanging around Saul had shown her Texans weren’t nearly as backward or inbred as she once believed. He’d opened her eyes that there was a world outside of Los Angeles, and she’d liked what she’d seen.
“I think you’re overreacting.”
“Really? Maybe, but I wasn’t the one who was shot at.”
***
“You hear that?” Dallas whispered. Kyle paused in his efforts and listened a moment. Without Kyle sawing away, they could all hear the rumble of a big V8 as it crept along between the storage units.
“Keep working!” Saul ordered.
They had spent an hour, already, trying to get the door on the storage unit open, and they were still at it. The bolt cutters had proven useless because the door had an internal lock so there was nothing to cut. They had tried to pry the door, but had simply bent the door. They had finally resorted to punching a hole in the thin metal of the door and trying to cut through the locking bar with the hacksaw. Cutting through the door, the guide, and the bar at the same time was slow hard work, and they were taking turns on the hacksaw. They had been sawing way at the door for forty-five minutes, the only break in the work occurring when they’d had a laughing fit when Dallas bemoaned their lack of power tools.
A pair of headlamps turned down the aisle they were on, then the vehicle roared as it charged toward them before slamming to a stop, spraying gravel. The Jeep was sitting in front of the door, so the four men crouched behind it, hoping they hadn’t been seen in the shadows. Two men baled from the truck.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing!” one of the men roared.
“Trying to get into my storage room! What concern is it of yours?” Saul said, rising from behind the Jeep and holding his hand out so his men would stay down.
“That’s our fucking storage unit!”
“No its not, it’s mine. Number 723.”
“723 is the next one over, you stupid fuck!” the man said as he and his companion stepped in front of the headlamps.
“What?” Saul said as he looked up at the numbers in mock confusion. “Oh, shit, man, I’m sorry. No wonder my key wasn’t working.”
“Move your fucking Jeep. We need to get in there. And pay attention to shit the next time.”
“Yeah. Sorry, man. It won’t happen again.”
“Just move your—fuck! It’s the Pagans!” the second man said as Saul stepped around the Jeep and his colors came into view.
***
“Thank you for dinner,” Angela said as she unlocked and opened the door to her room.
“You’re welcome,” Bradley replied opening the door for her and stepping in. Angela followed. He was beginning to win her over to his way of thinking and he wanted to press home his advantage while Saul wasn’t around.
He stepped in close and smiled down at her. He was eight years older than her own twenty-six years, but he was certainly handsome enough with his dark hair and eyes, terrific body, and movie star features, but she didn’t feel the pull for Bradley she did for Saul. She took a step back.
“Bradley, no.”
“What?” he asked, his voice dripping innocence.
“It’s not going to happen.”
He grinned. “We’re going to do the love scene in a couple of days. How are you going to do that if you’re not even comfortable with me standing close? Do I make you uncomfortable?” he asked with a small smile as he stepped in close again.
“It’s called acting,” she said, holding her ground this time.
He smiled and leaned in as if to kiss her. “Don’t you want a rehearsal?”
She put her hand in his chest. “No.”
He straightened. “Is it because of Saul? You can do better than him.”
“It’s because production romances are a bad idea.” She watched as Bradley’s face twisted in annoyance.
“Yet you’re sleeping with Saul.”
She smiled. “As you have been pointing all evening, he’s not part of the production, not part of the family as you call it.”
“That’s just you trying to justify it.”
She shrugged. “You’re just like everyone else. You seem to think it’s okay for someone to control every aspect of your life. Well I don’t. I’ll do my job, but what I do in my free time is my business and nobody else’s. I want to have a life outside of Hollywood, a normal life. You can keep your interviews and groupies and everything else. I don’t want them.”
He backed off. “You’re making a big mistake. If you—”
“It’s mine to make,” she interrupted.
“I’m trying to help you, Angela!”
“I don’t want or need your help.”
“Fine! Go it alone. Someday you’ll look back on this conversation and wish you’d listened to me.”
“Maybe.”
Bradley stared at her a moment. “Don’t be late for call tomorrow,” he said before he turned on his toe and stomped out of the room.
She locked her door behind him, and wished for at least the tenth time Saul was here. She thought about calling him then decided not to, not wanting to come across as the needy type, and wondered how his evening was going.
***
Saul charged one of the men silhouetted in the headlamp, hoping his brothers were taking care of the other man. The shadowy figure had started reaching behind him, probably going for a gun, but he wasn’t fast enough. Saul slammed into his, driving him back into the grill of the Chevy. The second man grabbed him by his colors and started to pull him off his companion, but the other Pagans arrived and joined the fray. With four on two, the fight didn’t last long and they quickly had the two men wrestled to the ground.
“What are we going to do with them?” Dallas panted as he knelt on one of the Killers with his knee in the man’s neck.
“We should kill them,” Caleb snarled.
“What about it, asshole?” Saul asked. “Should we kill you?”
“Do what you have to, you fuck.”
Saul pulled him up and slammed him into the hood of the truck. “Don’t tempt me, asshole. You started this shit when you hit Abana’s compound. Now he’s going to wipe you out.”
“Not before we kill every last one of you fucking Pagans!”
Saul’s lips hardened. “Kill them,” he said, pulling his knife from the sheath. The man, realizing he was about to breathe his last, began to struggle as Saul pulled him off the hood and swiftly drew his knife across the man’s throat.
When the second man hit the ground, their life pouring into the gravel, Saul turned away in disgust. “Fuck! I hate this fucking shit!”
“It had to be done,” Dallas said as he wiped his knife on the dead man’s clothes.
“Let’s just get what we came for and get the fuck out of here,” he said before he wiped his own knife and tucked it away.
“What are we going to do with them?” Caleb asked, nudging one of the bodies with a toe.
“We’ll stuff them in the unit and dump the truck somewhere and leave the keys in it. The cut in the door won’t be obvious, and maybe someone will steal the fucking thing and take the wrap.”