Chapter Nine

Cross

Sleep wouldn’t come for shit. Again. I wouldn’t get anything accomplished by lying in bed and staring at the ceiling until my vision went blurry. Even Moon’s breathing techniques hadn’t helped, not that I would ever fucking admit to trying them.

Done with this restlessness, and with no plan in mind, I strapped on my bullet-proof vest, then some clothes, grabbed my keys and headed out the door. When I reached my bike I punched the air. Yes, I mouthed into the chill night. Suddenly sure of my next move, I jogged to the parking lot.

Since I still spent every night at the clubhouse, I had my choice of more than a dozen cars on the property. The dark green Toyota had keys in the ignition, so I turned over the engine and left the clubhouse in my rear view, heading toward a titty bar at the ass end of Mayhem. There was just one thing on my mind at the moment. Vigo. If I couldn’t have any peace, neither would that fucker. He wasn’t at the titty bar and after turning down a few offers for lap dances, I got out of there and headed to Shandy’s.

He’d attacked a few of our probationary members there and though they weren’t full Bastards, we would retaliate as if they were. Shandy’s was a bust too and I felt my frustration growing by the second. All of this shit had started because of Vigo and it was hard as hell not to hold him personally responsible. What the fuck was he thinking?

He was a dumb son of a bitch which meant he wasn’t thinking then and he probably wasn’t now, and just like that I knew where he’d be.

The rundown, three-story apartment building where he’d met the woman with the bad dye job. I saw lights inside when I turned into the parking lot and shadows behind the curtains told me they were still awake. I didn’t imagine that even as dumb as Vigo was, that he’d sleep away from the protection of his own home when so many people wanted him dead.

I waited.

And waited.

Pissed off and angry, I waited and let my anger fester and boil until it was full blown rage in search of a target. I wanted to pound something, preferably Vigo’s face, until I was too tired to do anything but stop. It was all too much. The fucking city was screwing with us left, right and center, and I had no fucking clue why. Even after talking with Tanya again, I hadn’t been able to figure it out. Yet.

“The inspector is off your ass. For now, because he didn’t have a leg to stand on, but Cross these guys don’t just randomly pick businesses to fuck with. They’re like dogs, they go where they’re told.”

I’d replayed those words at least a thousand times since Tanya had called back and given me her expensive advice. The paper pushers had been sent by someone and not just some regular rich asshole, but someone with some actual juice to guarantee they didn’t pay for their own crimes. I didn’t have all the pieces yet, but I would. I’d taken the rest of Tanya’s advice and had the guys go through every single business we had and make sure everything was up to code.

“Get proactive so the next time these fuckers come by, I can get them on harassment or something and earn that healthy retainer you pay me.”

I’d just grunted and hung up, unable to see the humor in a never ending shit storm of stupid that had become my life lately. Just thinking about that shit again had even more anger pulsing through my veins.

Vigo chose that moment to leave the apartment, and I followed him as he took the backroads connecting Mayhem and Vegas that few tourists actually knew about. In many places the damn road got so narrow, I’d have sworn I was threading a needle.

A dark, cloudless night made it doubly hazardous. Tonight, though, the moon lit the way, the dented guardrails and handmade crosses testaments to all the people who’d met their end on this lonely stretch of road. Hollywood would have you believe the mobsters took people out here to kill them but the truth was it was almost always the desert that killed them. A ten-mile hike in the Vegas sun, or worse, the desert at night, would do in even the toughest mother fucker.

I thought about leaving Vigo to that fate, but he slammed on his breaks and jumped from that yellow target he was driving, which I filed away for another time.

“You stalkin’ me, Cross?”

“Yep.” No point in lying when his days were numbered anyway. I stepped out of the Toyota and stood beside it.

His eyes widened and though his chest puffed out, he didn’t make any moves towards me. “You gonna do something about it?”

“Yep.” The more he talked, the angrier I got. Thinking about Jana bleeding from the neck, Max’s near homicidal rage until she woke up and Moon covered in Jana’s blood. Yeah, this was the moment.

Vigo was twitchy, probably high. His skin was pale and even on this dark night I could see sweat dripping down his forehead.

“Yeah? What?”

His hand slid near his waistband and I knew what he was about, what he’d always been about.

“Reaching for that girly ass, pearl-handled pistol you love? Go ahead. Pull it.”

I wanted him to, badly. But I hoped he didn’t make me take him out too soon because I wanted to make him suffer. It was my duty as club president to see that he did.

With a sneer, Vigo brandished that gun and aimed it at me but I ducked behind the car door as two shots whizzed by the window. Hitting nothing. “I don’t think so, asshole.”

I heard the car door slam and the sound of his tires as he peeled away. I jumped up, hopping back into the car because there was no way Vigo was getting away. By the time he made it to the wide curve that would take us right to Las Vegas Boulevard, I’d caught up to him. It was hard to blend in when you drove a flashy car and when he hooked a right on East Harmon Avenue, I was right behind him, racing past the Hard Rock Casino.

“Keep running,” I practically growled into my car and made a quick left onto Paradise Road.

Vigo thought he could outrun me and he probably had a few backup plans. But what he didn’t know was that none of it fucking mattered. He was mine. Right after we passed the convention center, he turned right again down a quiet street. A dark and quiet street, but he kept going.

And going.

Finally, he must have got tired of running like a little bitch because he slammed on his brakes and got out, leaving his door wide open as he pounded his chest.

“You want me? Then come and get me motherfucker because I’m not running from you!”

“You should,” I told him, deadly calm as I stepped out of the car, quickly gaining on him. “But it’s your choice.”

Vigo waited until I was just a few feet from him to throw his first punch, a jab that grazed my jaw and I stepped in and landed a jaw-shaking uppercut. “Son of a bitch! Bit my tongue.”

I smirked and moved toward him, landing a jab square on his nose in a startling crack that sent blood flying everywhere. “Something you should have done before becoming a snitch. Was sucking that dead agent off required or just a bonus?”

He sneered and ran at me head first, intending to knock me on my ass but I wasn’t having that. When he was close enough I lifted my knee and he went down instantly, writhing and crying in pain like the little bitch he was.

“You broke my nose!” He scrambled up, still holding his nose and throwing wild punches.

A few even landed, one to my right eye and another split my lip open, but it worked into my plan perfectly. While Vigo was feeling like a big shit, I found my moment and landed a hammer fist that sent him to the ground, me on top of him and I landed blow after blow on his face until my fists were coated in his blood.

Still I didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop.

Not until I could no longer see Jana bloody and unconscious, looking pale and small in her hospital bed. Max’s face, scared and angry. Blaming me and rightfully so. By the time I stopped, Vigo’s blood dripped from my hands and I could only stare in a wild, inexplicable fascination as droplets fell from me to him. I blinked to clear my mind and exhaled at the sight before me. I made it to my feet, breathing hard but grinning.

Vigo’s face was unrecognizable, and his left eye was already swelling shut, but he coughed and groaned as he slowly got up. “You’re a fuckin’ dead man, Cross. You and all of your bitches. Your whole goddamn club.” He wiped his face with his hand, wheezing through his broken nose.

“You think so? I’d love to see you try.” I walked away from Vigo while he continued to taunt me because I was stronger than him. Also because he’d stopped behind a bunch of shitty apartments where no one ever heard or saw a damn thing when the cops came to take statements. Vigo’s laugh echoed in the still air as he got in his car and drove away.

He might have thought he was free and clear of me and he was probably already making plans for the rest of the Reckless Bastards, but Vigo didn’t understand something very crucial. He was a dumb shit.

So goddamn stupid, he didn’t notice when I pulled in behind his yellow and black eyesore. He didn’t notice me behind the red Uber as he turned back onto Las Vegas Boulevard. I kept at least one car between us at all times, but it wasn’t necessary, he was oblivious with his one eye swollen shut.

Four miles later ours were the only two cars on the same stretch of bad road, this time heading back to Mayhem. I let another mile pass before I stomped on the gas and passed Vigo on the left side, scaring the ever-loving fuck out of him when I honked and waved.

He tried to get ahead of me but, although that muscle car was sweet, it had nothing on a good old reliable Toyota. I was ahead of him and sliding back into the right lane in no time. Vigo tried to pass on the left but I moved at the same time he did, making a pass all but fucking impossible. “Try again, asshole.”

He did. On the left side and the right side, before trying to pass on the left again. Then I made my move, slamming on the brakes so hard he had no choice but to swerve away or hit me. It was a calculated move, but I knew how Vigo would respond. The only way he could.

He slammed on his brakes and swerved to avoid a collision and flipped his own car in the ditch.

Two times. Three times. Four times before it finally stopped moving.

I stopped about a quarter mile up the road and walked back toward the already smoking car. “Help me! Somebody, help!”

That sound brought a smile to my face and I hated it, hated what this shit had turned me into. Vigo wouldn’t be my first kill, nowhere near it. I’d killed for Uncle Sam and I’d killed for my brothers, but I’d never, not once, taken any joy from it.

Not like I was right now.

“Somebody call for help?”

“Fuck you! Get me out of here!”

“Your prayers have been answered Vigo. You wanted revenge for the death of your dumb fuck of a kid brother? Well you got it. Now you can go straight to hell and meet that shit stain.”

“Please, Cross. Help me.”

“Begging already, Vigo? I expected more.” A spark caught in the engine and I took a few steps back, mentally calculating how much time before the fucker went boom.

“You know all those problems you’re having with the city? I know the cause.”

I froze. “Bullshit.”

“Seriously.” He was agitated, and his voice came out a shallow pant. “You think it’s a coincidence that you fucked over that governor and now you have your own problems with the city? I. Thought. You. Were. Smarter.”

His breathing was labored and even though I believed him, I had no forgiveness within me at the moment.

“And I thought you were smart enough to leave before it came to this. Turns out we were both wrong.” I walked away, ignoring his cries for help, his agonizing screams and slid behind the wheel and drove away.

I’d made it about three miles up the road before a large plume of fire and smoke blossomed in my rearview mirror.

Good fucking riddance.