Chapter 33
Slick
I hated leaving Ella in Vegas. It just didn’t seem right. I cursed having to abandon her now we’ve reached such a good place in our relationship. Oh, I’m confident enough that this short break won’t harm us, but I don’t like that I’m leaving her alone. I miss her already. My comfort is that she seems to be settled in the Vegas club, not overly concerned by the brothers now she’s met them, and surrounded by old ladies whom I can see have become her friends.
On the long ride back to Tucson, all I could think about is that night when she allowed me to let my inner beast free, the memories rolling around my head on a loop. Fuck, once I’d got over the shock of her asking, I’d let myself go and she’d taken all I had to give. I’d certainly fulfilled my promise, and couldn’t hide my smirk when I saw her walking stiffly the next morning. Yeah babe, that’s what biker loving does to you.
Last night at the Vegas compound I’d changed pace once again, making love to her so gently, cementing the depth of my love for her in my actions as well as words. If this was to be a final goodbye, then I wanted to leave her something to remember me by.
It’s not my intention to die, but who the fuck knows what lies ahead? Each and every one of us would lay down our lives for our brothers and for our club. It’s impossible to predict what’s going to happen, and not out of the question that some of us might not be coming back.
At least the women are safe. If anything happens to us, Red will look after them.
Arriving back at the Tucson compound, breathing in the familiar smells of home, I’ve got to put Ella out of my mind and concentrate on securing a future for us. Now I need to give one hundred percent commitment to my club while we deal with the Herreras and whatever Archer’s going to throw at us. Oh, and to track down who ran Heart and Crystal off the road. There’s no doubt with the women away, and no sweet butts to distract us, we can get down to business without worries of them in our minds.
But fuck does it feel wrong to lie alone in my bed, my hand resting on the side where she usually lies, my head on her pillow just to breathe in the perfume she left, remembering the promise I made that I would be returning to her, having to deal with the knowledge it was a pledge that might be beyond my control to keep.
The next morning the clubroom seems eerily empty with no women around. Smells of burnt bacon are wafting through as the prospects do their best at serving up an edible breakfast. They fail, but I grab something, knowing I’ll need it to keep me going. When I walk into church it’s to find my brothers equally subdued.
Prez is toying with the gavel, but with mostly silence around him there’s no need to bang it. He twists it between his fingers before giving a half-hearted tap on the wood.
“I don’t need to explain what we’re all gettin’ into,” he starts with no preamble. As he looks from one of us to another, I wonder if he’s burning the image of us all into his brain in case some of us don’t come back. His action reinforcing my notion we’ve no idea what we’ll be stepping into today.
Mouse gives a slight wave of his hand. “I’ve done everythin’ I can, Prez. The link between the Zetas and the Herreras is still strong, and as we all know, that cartel’s on its way back. They’re gainin’ ground all the time, and while still weakened, a direct attack from them would be more than we could handle.”
“They’re better armed for a start,” Peg puts in. “But my gut feel is we have closer enemies to deal with. Leonardo Herrera wants us to take out the trash. I’m worried that not everyone in the family will appreciate us cleanin’ their house.”
I nod, he’s right. And the Herreras could take us out, with or without the cartel. It’s just a simple question of numbers.
“Leonardo is the head. His son will be takin’ over when he goes.”
“And what do we know about the son, Mouse? Apart from the fact he wasn’t at the fuckin’ meeting you had?”
“Yeah, that’s my worry, Dart.” Prez glances down the table. “We don’t know how long the old man will last. His son might have a different way of doin’ things.”
Dart points with the glowing tip of his cigarette. “Way I see it is Leonardo is worried about the Zetas. Sure, there’s a relationship there, but the Herreras have been muddyin’ that by dippin’ their toes into the skin trade.”
“They’ve been clever, they’re not shippin’ the kids out of Tucson, just keeping them for the entertainment here in the city.” This from Beef.
“It’s still skin trade,” says Joker. “Herreras can expect blowback if the cartel gets to know.”
“And if the cartel finds out we’ve launched an attack on the family they’re protectin’, I don’t give much for our chance of stayin’ in the clear.” Beef voices one of my worries.
“Could we talk to the Zetas? Get them on board?”
A dozen heads swing around to look at Lady. He clears his throat. “Just a thought.”
“Lady’s right, we should look at all options.” Prez rubs at his forehead. “But the cartel’s always bloodthirsty, and they don’t like loose fuckin’ ends. Likely result is they’ll go for the Herreras and then come after the club.”
A voice comes from a man leaning against the wall at the back, Red’s VP, Crash. “Have we got enough manpower if they do?”
“Probably not right now,” says Drum. “Not if the cartel comes for us. The Herreras, maybe. If I can get a warnin’ out in time and we can call on the support offered by the other chapters. What worries me most is if we go ahead with what Leonardo wants, we could be walkin’ into a trap and won’t have that time to prepare.”
Lost, Snake’s VP, folds his arms as an ominous roll of thunder sounds right overhead. Before he can speak there’s a round of nervous laughter. He looks up. “Fuckin’ weather. Can’t wait to get back to San Diego. Thought Arizona was a desert!” Again a few chuckles. “What I was gonna say before I was so fuckin’ rudely interrupted was, we’ve talked this all out, agreed on a plan. I say we just fuckin’ go for it.”
“Lost’s got a good point. We can talk around this all day. We up for a vote on whether to go ahead on the assumption Leonardo’s straight and we’ll do what he’s asked?”
“Don’t like being used by anyone.” Peg’s grumbling again.
“Truth, Brother?” Wraith sits forward and leans his elbows on the table. “We’d have gone searchin’ for the addresses, which was giving Mouse a headache. He’s sped things up by givin’ us heads on a fuckin’ plate. And the names tally with the info we beat out of Diego, so we can be sure we know all our targets. Yeah, we take it at face value. We could be on to a winner. Just have to take the risk that there’s no hidden agenda lurkin’ beneath.”
Drum bangs the gavel. “Let’s take a fuckin’ vote. All in favour of proceedin’ as planned? Or do you women want to gossip about it some more?”
Another rumble of thunder coincides with our laughter. It’s a fairly quick vote. Being men of action, and not women as Prez pointed out, we feel better moving than sitting around.
Prez starts to run through the plan. “We’ve got five men that we’re targetin’. If we can trust Leonardo, they’ll be completely unaware.”
“And if he’s not trustworthy, they’ll be ready and waitin’.”
Drummer glares at Peg. The sergeant-at-arms shrugs then waves to indicate he’ll shut up. “We go in heavy, prepared for whatever we might meet. Five teams. I take one, Wraith, Peg, Blade, and Slick will lead the others. Lost, you and your men will be with me. Slick, you’ll have Crash and the Vegas boys with you.” Prez goes on to assign the rest of my brothers to the teams. Everyone’s going except the prospects, who’ll be left at the compound. We’re hoping to find each man on his own, but plan in case they’re heavily protected.
“What about collateral damage?” Rock asks, tugging at his ear. “You want us to limit that, or what?”
“Women, kids?” Prez asks Mouse.
“Lucas isn’t married, couldn’t find a connection to a woman at all. Pablo and Miguel have wives, but no kids. Pedro’s got a woman and a couple of youngsters. Arturo has two teenage boys.”
“No women or kids to be hurt,” Drum announces, then stares everyone down to ensure we’re all on message. “We take them out clean.”
“What about any men they have with them?”
“Tongue, I think it’s safe to assume they’re on the wrong side. If they get in the way, remove them.” Drum sits back and puts his foot against the table, tunnelling his hands through his hair. “Brothers, this ain’t the way we work and it’s fuckin’ killin’ me to do this. But we ain’t going out to murder innocent men. Even if it wasn’t at the whim of fuckin’ Leonardo Herrera, we’d still need to clean out this town. What happened to Jayden can’t be allowed to happen to any others if we can help it. These five men are scum and need to be taken out.”
“I hear ya, Prez. But can’t stop that sort of shit forever. Supply and demand, someone will step up to fill the void.”
“Yeah, Peg, that’s the risk. But doing this, we’ll have saved some young kids. If anyone has doubts just ask Mouse about those fuckin’ videos he watched.”
“I’d rather you didn’t.” Mouse grimaces.
I know what the prez is doing. He’s winding us up on purpose. But fuck, I need no such encouragement. Jayden’s my family. “I’d do it alone if I had too.”
Steely grey eyes come my way. “You don’t have to, Brother.”
A murmur of agreement, then another fucking crack of thunder so loud it makes all of us start. I guess all our nerves are stretched tight today.
“We leave at midnight. Now we all got our skills. Use them.”
Peg raps the table. “And leave your cuts behind. We don’t want anyone clockin’ us.”
As everyone nods there’s a knock at the door. Drum rolls back his head. “What the fuck now? Come in!”
Road looks pissed off when he opens the door. “Got visitors at the gate, Prez. Those two detectives, and a number of squad cars full of cops too.”
Prez gives a little grin, it wasn’t exactly unexpected. “Everything hidden?”
“Squeaky clean, boss.” Wraith returns his smirk.
“Then let’s let them in.”
I’m not the only one who follows him down to the gate, partly out of curiosity and partly to offer support. There’s a crowd of us waiting when Hyde opens the gate. The rain has just stopped and puddles glisten in the emerging sunlight.
Archer’s the first in and steps up to Drum, a piece of paper in his hand once again. “You’ve been served!” He almost spits out the words and lets the letter fall on the ground.
Drum ignores it. “If you’ve come for the kid she’s not here.”
The detective’s face goes red. “I don’t believe you. We’ve got a fucking warrant to search this rat hole.”
Prez stays calm. “Knock yourselves out.”
Archer waves to the men behind him and about a dozen flood in. A couple peel off and go into the auto shop, and from the racket, they’ve started tearing it apart. Fuck knows why they’d be looking for a three-year-old in there. Seems they’re using the opportunity to cause as much trouble as possible.
The detective himself leads the others up the compound, some brothers go with them, but all they’ll be able to do is watch. I stay where I am. If the auto shop is an example to go by, it’s going to break my heart to see the damage they’ll be leaving behind.
Detective Hannah has remained. She steps up to the prez and says grimly, “I’m so sorry, Drum. I couldn’t stop him.”
Turning his stare to her, Drum looks impassive. After a few moments he says, “The kid’s not here, Marcia. She’s safe.” He’s being gentle with her, understanding her frustration. And at least the information she’d given had provided us with a heads up. It’s Archer we’ve got an issue with, not her.
The detective looks relieved. “I’m trying to find evidence, but he hides everything well.” Her eyes look in the direction her partner had gone then come back to Drum. “Any news on Heart?”
“No change.”
Her hands bunch at her side. “He’s got to come around, then we can put an end to all this farce.”
“It won’t end,” Drum replies sagely. “Men like Archer don’t give up once they’ve got their sights on somethin’. He just won’t be able to do it legally anymore.”
She stares down at her feet as though she’s got nothing to say.
“Hey.” Drum’s voice has her raising her head again. “We know you’ve nothin’ to do with this.”
Her back straightens. “I’m a cop, Drum. And you’re a criminal.”
“Never been convicted.”
“You’ve never been caught.” Her mouth twists.
“Innocent until proven guilty?” he challenges, making her give a half smile.
Two hours later the fucking cops leave. There’s not one bloc, not one room that hasn’t been overturned and left in a mess. All the bottles are broken in the clubhouse, fridges pulled out and searched behind, leaving their contents defrosting and water puddling on the floor. In the clubroom there’s great holes in a wall, when challenged Archer shrugs and says they were looking for a secret room.
But they found nothing at all, and certainly not the little girl they were after or anything else incriminating. Veins were popping on Archer’s forehead when he eventually left.
Hannah pauses before following her partner, her eyes surveying the ruined clubroom, her mouth pursed.
“Criminals, eh?” The prez’s face is stern as he tells her, “We got no redress, you and I both know that. But who’s in the wrong for causin’ this mess? I don’t think you and I are far off the same side.”
She’s got nothing to say.
First things first, Hyde and Jekyll are sent to replenish the bar stocks. Freezers and fridges plugged back in and hopefully most of the contents are salvageable. As Road mops up, the rest of us right the furniture that we can, and start removing that which can’t be repaired, which includes a number of the mismatched, but comfortable chairs in church. Fucking bastards.
When the last of the police leave the compound, the prez calls everyone around him. He stands on one of the few remaining tables that has all its supporting legs. With all eyes upon him, he starts to speak.
“Brothers. This,” his arm indicates the damage, “was nothin’ more than an act of revenge. We thwarted Archer’s plans by movin’ Amy. A little girl’s safe. All we’ve lost here is furniture and possessions, which can be fuckin’ replaced. We’ll come back from this better than before.”
“Could do with some new sofas, Prez.”
A ripple of laughter goes around, and I grin. Yeah, those sofas had seen more than enough action, and I don’t even want to think about the kind of deposits that had been left on them. I almost feel sorry for the cops who had to touch the surfaces they’d shredded.
“We start building again tomorrow. But now, put this to the back of your heads. We’ve got bigger things to deal with tonight. Peg, get the weapons back out of storage, and everyone make sure you know what you’re doing and that your guns are clean and loaded. Don’t want none jammin’ tonight. And Slick, you make sure your toys are ready.”
I nod. I know what I have to do.
“Prospects will be restockin’ the bar, but go easy. I want everyone with clear heads.” He looks around, making sure everyone’s on board. “Right, let’s continue getting things straightened where we can, then go play with yourselves or whatever you do to relax.”
A few chuckles greet him as he jumps back down to the ground. Normally he’d say go fuck, but with no whores or old ladies, those that need to will be reduced to using their hands.
As the brothers from San Diego and Vegas offer to make good, or as far as possible, the communal areas, I go up to my suite to see what damage has been done there. Nothing seems to be broken, but every drawer’s been tipped out and searched. I do what I can to tidy mine, and then Ella and Jayden’s room. Fuck knows which of their stuff goes into which drawer. I feel like a voyeur handling their panties and shit. Holding each item gingerly between finger and thumb, I put all the spilled tampons back in the box. Fuck, a man shouldn’t have to do this kind of thing.
By the time I’m finished it’s late afternoon and I go to the bunker hidden in the old swimming pool. The disguised and dirt covered top is already slid back, and Peg is sorting out weapons and ammunition. I go to a special pile and take out what I need, collecting my handguns and knives from where I had them stored, noting Prez’s precious Linn Sondek turntable is covered in bubble wrap and placed here for safe keeping, along with his treasured record collection. Shaking my head, I smile. Trust Prez.
The mood in the clubhouse remains subdued, and one of the only times I can remember when the whores aren’t around to provide their services. Men sit checking their guns, putting ammunition handy in the pockets of their cuts, and strapping on sheaves for their knives. Blade comes over and takes a seat beside me, the chair rocking, and he gets up fast turning it over to inspect it, then swearing when he sees the loose leg. Tossing it aside he pulls up another.
“Fuckin’ fuzz,” he snarls.
I shrug. There’s nothing more to say.
“Who you got, Slick?”
“Lucas. Should be easy. He’s not got a wife, hopefully he’ll be home all alone.”
“You got your special toys?”
Yup, you could say that. I like to blow things up. I nod.
“Tongue and Wraith have got Pedro.”
That makes sense. Tongue being a sniper, if he gets a clear shot it should be easy just to take one man out. “Who you got, Blade?”
“Pablo. I’ll slit his throat while he sleeps.”
“Sounds fuckin’ simple.”
He grins broadly. “What could go wrong?”
One fuck of a lot.