Blade
Spider, Tank and Cowboy follow me out of Vegas’ office and through the back door for a smoke. First we check around the building that no one is listening. Lighting up my smoke, I take in a long drag and blow out a long puff. “Got any updates?”
Tank nods back, “Yeah, the trucks Axl set up for the brothers to follow worked out well, man. One brother didn’t report back that he found anything or anyone hauling, even though he followed him all the way to his drop in Wells, Nevada. He shanked the driver and tossed him in the dumpster. He made a call we couldn’t trace. He’s our rat. It’s one of the old President’s men, Skid. I’ve kept eyes on him. He hasn’t made any moves yet.”
“That old fucker followed him then dumped him and took off, then reported it to whoever he works with now.” I pull in another drag that my nerves crave. “We need to get his phone and see what’s on there. We can’t let him meet with whoever he’s working with. Who’s with him now?”
Spider laughs, “I’ve got Fawn and CC getting that old horny dick liquored up with a roofie. As soon as he passes out, I’m heading back to the club house to open his phone. Stupid fucker uses his thumb print to open the screen. If he’s smart, he would have erased everything. But I have a plan. I can’t believe I didn’t think of this before a crazy bitch did.” Spider shakes his head kicking dirt. “The other day sitting at the bar, I heard this crazy bitch telling the girls how she caught her boyfriend cheating. She logged onto his Apple account, copied his log in name and password. She goes into her phone account changes her cloud account to match his. Not only does she get her own text messages but his too. I went and bought a new phone. As soon as he falls asleep, I’ll use his thumb to unlock the screen, his password will be saved automatically on the cloud. I’ll log in, get the info and log out. Add the account to my new phone and I’ll be able to track his texts, who’s in his contacts, and track his whereabouts with the Find My Phone app.”
“Fuck, man, I can’t say I’m not surprised a crazy bitch thought that scenario out, they are relentless cunts when they’re onto something.”
We hear the rumble of a bike pull out front. Striding in that direction to check who it is, I’m relieved to see Cuervo’s finally made it. The crazy fucking nomad tracks down shit you never thought you could resurrect off grid.
“Fuck, brother, you made it!” Slapping Cuervo on the back, I watch him kicking out the kickstand, then shaking hands with the rest of the brothers.
Cowboy tells him, “You haven’t changed at all in a decade, brother. Same long black hair in a ponytail, same old devil stash, I think you have the same black vaquero boots from the eighties.” Cowboy would be right, he looks the traditional Mexican he always has.
Cuervo spits his chew down by Cowboy’s boot, and with his gravely deep voice asks, “What? I’m not pretty like my brother, Fuego, that crazy fire-starting motherfucker.” Cuervo turns his gaze my way, “Heard you tatted his daughter up, Blade? Better treat her right, brother, or you’ll see what the end of my machete in your skull feels like. No shit, I love Vegas like she’s my own. Don’t fuck with her.”
“I hear you, Cuervo.” I nod and blow out a long drag, like I give a shit what this asshole has to say about it.
“GOOD.” Cuervo stares me down with his withered, scarred up face. If I wasn’t who I was, I would think twice before fucking around with this psycho.
Stryker and Fuego come through the back door to meet with the rest of us. Fuego, the devil lookalike himself, hugs his brother. Stryker, who holds out his fist for a bump, asks first, “Where’s the bitch we have to get the info from?”
“That whiny, little pussy is tied up at Arrowhead, the abandoned mineral mine in the hills. We’ll need to grab the trucks to get up there, though. I’ll be waiting at the club house. Let’s move, I need sleep.” With that, Cuervo cranks his bike and leaves the rest of us in his dust.
“Moody asshole,” Cowboy stares in the direction of where Cuervo took off.
“You would be, too, cabrone, if your only son and wife were stabbed and bled out for days. Never talk shit about Cuervo, unless you desire to join the dead,” Fuego slaps Cowboy on his back on his way to his bike. “You heard him, let’s move.”
“Meet you all there, I’ll be a minute behind you. Gonna go grab Axl.” Tank, Cowboy and Stryker take off with Fuego. Walking into the bar, I spot Axl hanging behind the bar with Dana and Vegas.
“Axl, we got work at the clubhouse, we gotta head out, brother.” Axl nods and tells the girls bye on his way out from behind the bar. Vegas stiffens a bit at my words, but doesn’t comment. I know she knows there is a whole lot more going.
Walking up behind her, I use my weight to pin her to the bar. “Babe, I gotta work tonight, I don’t know when I’ll be back, so I’ll crash at the club.” Kissing her cheek, I turn to head out.
Vegas’ hand catches my forearm just before I exit the back door. “Blade, let’s get some things straight. You will come home to me every night, unless there is a damn good reason you can’t. The other is, when you go to work, kiss me good bye like it’s your last. Did you or did you not tattoo my back? You hear me?” Vegas stands there with her hand on her cocked hip, piercing my heart with her words and angry eyes.
“Yeah, babe, heard every word. I’ll be home later.” Grabbing Vegas’ waist, I pull her into my arms and kiss her sweet mouth. “Behave, Vegas,” I slap her ass in warning.
“Later, love,” She waves her hand, and I watch her hot ass move to work back behind the bar.
∞ ∞ ∞
Blade
Swinging open the old steel mine plant doors, the smell of musk and dust, along with blood, hits my nose. “Cuervo, got this party started,” I sneer, that greedy asshole. Axl and Tank at my back, this is our show and he will learn that right now. Shadows appear around the corner from the only light in the main room.
Quickly striding into the open plant room, Cuervo has our informer on his knees, with his arms tied behind his back. Blood drips from his nose and mouth. His head is tilted forward, realizing he isn’t getting out of this. Cuervo raises his fist to rain down more punishing bruises. Tank grabs Cuervo’s other arm, not a physical match for Tank, but he’s a quick killer.
Cuervo grabs at the knife in the leather sheath that’s tied around his leg, spinning around and holding it at Tank’s neck. Tank’s eyes narrow as he steps into the sharp blade. “Pulling a knife on me, Cuervo?” Tank holds back his impatience while ignoring Cuervo’s psychotic state. Cuervo pulls back a bit and drops his knife back into its sheath.
“Not today, cabrone, not today.” He drops his head to the side and waits for Tank’s next move. Pushing Cuervo back a step, they both eye the other, animosity in their eyes for each other’s blood.
Interrupting their standoff, I step in. “Cuervo, I’m the fucking Prez of this chapter, that’s my Road Captain, get your shit together. Or did you forget that?”
Cuervo turns his body to face the rest of us. “Si, Prez. Just getting this fucker warmed up for you. I did haul his ass all the way up here, no?”
“Yeah, Cuervo, I see that and appreciate your work, but don’t forget that we are your brothers too, or your place.”
My face is stone, but this prick is pulling the rage out from within. Looking weak in front of my men is not an option. Cuervo smiles a smile I know he doesn’t mean, and it’s on only to keep pushing me. Fuego grabs Cuervo by the shoulder, but Cuervo tugs out of his hold and walks to the far wall in the dark, out of sight. Crazy asshole. Looking at Axl, he catches my stare knowing I mean for him to keep eyes on the nomad.
Walking over to an old dirty, dusty table, I drop my tools down that I carried in a heavy, black metal case, rolling the dial and unlocking the combination. I pop the top open, flipping the lid over. A cloud of dust settles around me. On each side of the box there is a variety of knives or pokers. I run my finger along my favorite, a combat tactical blade, all black, twelve inches long, with a saw on the opposite side of the blade. Pulling it out, my heart races with enthusiasm to let out the stress. To kill this man, show to the others who are standing in here that if they cross our club, I won’t hesitate to throw a knife into their back. No, my first choice is never a bullet.
Facing the dead man on his knees before me, I ask, “What’s your name?”. The man smiles and spits blood from his mouth, hitting my boot with it. I hold the knife tighter, roll my head, the lust for his blood pouring from my pores, soothing me, calming me.
The wolf pacing inside of us all howls in our minds, waiting to be freed. We all laugh out loud to each other. Nodding towards Tank, he picks up the rope at his feet. Tank likes to play with his ropes. Pulling it taught between his hands, he walks towards our prisoner, feeling its strength and bite on his skin.
Tank turns his body sideways to the man, kicking his size thirteen boot right in the center of his chest. The man’s head cracks like a melon on the old concrete floor. Struggling to breathe, I’m certain he knocked the wind out of him and worse.
Tank tosses the loop end around a steel hook above, tying the other end to the man’s feet. Flipping a switch on the old machine, he turns it on. Pushing a button, he pulls the man up and off his feet. We watch his face scrape along the dirty concrete floor.
Stepping closer, I grab his shirt, cutting it open from the collar and down, opening his chest to me. “You see, Dan Robertson, I knew who you were coming in here. The question is, what else do I know?”
I start slicing into his skin, and he screams, fueling my thirst for his pain. I continue by slicing the right side of his body from his thigh down to his ankle, then move to his left side. “I know about your wife, Julie, and your two kids.”
“Fuck you, asshole, I still ain’t telling you shit,” Dan yells back at me. There is a code among these thieves and thugs. One rule is that we don’t mess with each other’s families.
Walking calmly to my case, I’m done with this fucker. “Okay, so let’s not waste time. Tell me what I want to know, and you die quicker. Fuck around with my time, the longer I make you suffer here. Tell me, is your blood pounding in your head yet?” Still not looking at Dan, I find what I’m looking for. “I wonder if you’ll go into a seizure if I nicked your artery? Or do you think you’ll feel a deep euphoria at your blood draining from your body?”, I ask, seriously wondering what that would feel like.
Grabbing my daggers from my case, I take six steps, turn, and one by one throw them at Dan like he’s a dartboard, sticking them into each thigh and bicep. Hollers erupt from his vocal cords, arching him forward.
“Start talking, Dan, this will only get worse for you,” I warn, stepping back to him, “because the next knife I throw will be deeper.” Waiting on Dan through his gasps of air, I light up a smoke and pull in a few deep lung-fulls.
Dan stutters out, “I-I-I-I… was paid to haul trucks, keep it on the down low. I never got to see what was in the trucks. D-d-d-drive the trucks, wait till I got a text and m-m-move out. When I delivered in Sacramento, I dropped the truck. N-n-n-never unloaded.” Frustration booms inside of me because that tells me shit.
Nodding at Stryker, he places two fingers to his teeth and whistles loud. Hog carries in a kicking and screaming slut, tossing her to the ground like trash. Dan’s eyes are bloodshot and pop out at the sight of his girlfriend, or whore. Not sure which, and don’t care either.
Reaching over, I grab a fist-full of her ratty hair and pull the bitch up to stand. “Say good bye, Dan.” My eyes glare ice into Dan’s.
“No!” The little bitch screams, gurgling on my blade. Stabbing the bitch in the side of her throat, I rip it back out. Her blood splatters my face and pours down my hand. The wolf inside of me feels satisfied, and I toss the kill onto the floor.
She twitches before Dan, reaching for him, then drops her hand. Dying with her eyes open.
Dan sees death in her stare and he knows she died because of him. She was going to be dead tonight, no matter what. He just tortured himself as far as I’m concerned. Dan snivels, tears tracking down his eyes, mixing with the blood. He closes them, unable to look at her anymore.
The broken man speaks, “Johnny Carmine. He paid me to haul. G-gave me the burner p-p-phone with addresses and t-t-times. It’s in m-m-y truck’s glove box where that c-c-crazy Mexican fucker g-g-rabbed me. I still don’t know what I was hauling, j-j-just, he just left c-c-cash for me.” Dan finishes on a whisper, with a wish of death in his voice. The wish to go back and do it differently. Stryker, Fuego and I all stop at his words. The air just got sucked out of my lungs. Fuck.
“And Buck, who put him down in Indian Springs?”, I question him, maybe he does know more?
“Another t-t-trucker on the p-p-payroll, I t-t-took over his route, t-they moved him, so you couldn’t f-f-find him. I just seen him in p-p-passing, middle a-a-ge guy,” Dan moans, his voice shaking from all the blood loss. Pulling my knives out from his body, his jeans soak up the blood before deep crimson coats a puddle on the floor around the dead bitch. Placing my knives into a garbage bag, I hand it over to Solo, then turn and look for the man as in love with knives as me. “Cuervo,” is all I say and stay put.
A swishing, twirling noise filters through the air before a splitting sound stops it. Cuervo threw his machete, hitting Dan in the heart. Breaking through his rib cage, Dan never saw it coming. The sickening sucking sound of flesh separating back and forth from the movement of the heavy knife is echoing through the room. The force of it is pushing his dead body making it swing back and forth.