Chapter 9

Can you see the “fuck you” in my smile? - Anonymous

Tex

“Where the fuck are you?” Rage hisses to me through the phone before I can even say hello.

“I told you. I’m out of town,” I grumble it back, not pleased with the way I was greeted in the first place.

“You need to get your ass back here. We have shit we need to talk about, and I need to rely on someone to oversee the club while I go out on an errand.”

“Errand, or business?” I ask, wondering if this has something to do with the Sons of Gods bullshit that Rage is dragging us into. We just need to leave them alone. The thing about Rage is that he always insists on starting a war when one isn’t needed in the first place. I’m all for fucking shit up when the time comes to it, but I’ll be damned to lose a brother over a pissing match. After years of friendship with him I know the difference between an errand and business, an errand is usually him fucking around, maybe even doing so many drugs that he blacks out and can’t remember jack shit.

“A bit of both” He growls at me, his voice sounding a bit more sinister than usual which tells me that he’s up to no good, and the fact that I don’t know about it isn’t resting easy with me.

“What’s going on? Is this about the Sons of Gods?” I ask, needing to know whatever it is that he’s hiding from me. There’s no way that he’d know I’m with Roxy. I made damn sure to cover my tracks with that, paying off the security guys at the hospital to make sure the cameras had a malfunction that day when I was taking her out of there. Paying the nurses and doctors to make sure that everyone kept their damn mouth shut. I did enough to make sure that no one would decide to be a fucking nark. In the back of my mind I do wonder if he’s caught on – if he knows exactly where I am and who I’m with, but I have to keep telling myself that he doesn’t. There is no possible way that he could know.

“For Christ’s sake. How do you not know what is going on? Is Roman not talking to you about shit? You two seem to be awfully close.” He’s right. Roman and I are close because of one thing, and it’s not because we’re “friends”. He and I both see Rage circling the drain and know that shit is going to go down sooner or later. In fact, we’re both prepared for that day. The man isn’t my friend, but he is an ally. What is that saying? The enemy of your enemy is your friend. Well, the saying is true in this case. Roman and I have nothing in common; well, besides the fact that Quinn and Roxy are close. That is our only common denominator. Otherwise, he and I couldn’t be more different. While we both tend to take charge, there is just some shady shit behind him, and I can see it clear as day. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but one day I will. I’ll finally know what it is that this mother fucker isn’t telling me.

He and I have an agreement. We both see what Rage has done to our club, how he’s taken in slimy fuckers – the baddest of the bunch. There is no process on who we accept into our club anymore. It doesn’t matter if you’re the Pope or a child molester. Rage will take anyone who is willing to fight for us. Our values have been stripped, and the only thing that keeps the club running is hatred for those who oppose us, and the vast drug trade.

Roman wants the club, and for all I care, he can have it. I want out. Back before the devil took ahold of my friend I could have stayed in the club until the day I died. Now, because of everything he has changed, I don’t want any part of it. I no longer want to be surrounded by men I hate, men that I can’t even stand to be in a room with. Roman, though, he’s not like Rage, and he’s sure as fuck not like me either. He wants to make changes – he wants to bring our club back to life, restore it in the sensible way. He doesn’t want war, or bloodshed. He wants unity, and that I can respect. Rage only sees the other clubs as our enemies when reality it is the exact opposite. We should have been creating alliances with them, not swearing to slit their throats or put a gun to their heads. He may think we will run the States, but I am not naive and neither is Roman. We have bigger fish to worry about, much bigger fish.

“What don’t I know about?” I ask him.

“Roxanne is in the wind, she just up and vanished. Sent that slime bag fucker of a prospect down to the hospital to pick her up and nothing. She wasn’t there, and nobody seemed to know where it is she went or when she went missing.”

“She couldn’t have just disappeared into thin air,” I tell him, hoping that by playing along with his fake concern it will make him think I don’t know jack shit.

“You think I don’t fucking know that? I want to know who has her! Who is the piece of shit that thinks he can take what belongs to me?!” His voice barrels through the phone in screams of anger. Never have I once heard his voice get like this. Roxy being gone is really fucking with him. That just means I have to do whatever I can to protect her. I was prepared to do that in the first place, but now I can see him for how distraught he is. He has always been unpredictable, but now I fear he will be so much worse than I have ever seen.

I stay quiet for a minute, not because I’m scared or any of that shit, but because I really don’t know what to say. If I bring up just letting Roxy go, he’ll think it’s suspicious, but I bet you if I say anything his paranoid ass will look further into it then he needs to.

“She was pregnant. She was fucking pregnant, and she’s gone. She killed my fucking kid, and she ran off like the bitch she is.”

Don’t do anything stupid, stay calm, I internally tell myself. If there is anything I want to do right now, it’s lay my fist into him so many times until he’s in the same position she was. Roxy didn’t kill their baby.

He did.

He has done all of this shit and the fact he’s blaming her boils my blood like nothing else I’ve ever experienced.

“You should just let her go, then. She obviously ran for a reason, and we know there are plenty of whores who can give you children,” I tell him, begging him to take the bone I’m throwing him. Leave Roxy alone and take a fucking club whore. He never had a problem fucking them. I don’t see why he couldn’t just take one of them and forget Roxy’s name.

“No. Fuck no. I will find that cunt, track her down to the edges of the Earth if I have to. I will fuck her and keep her chained to a bed until she gives me what she owes me. You know what I’ll do then? I’ll keep her tied up to the bed and fuck her as much as I want, making her nothing more than my personal fucking breeder, giving me all the kids I ever want. Who knows, she might not even be good enough for that. If that’s the case I’ll keep her chained up and let the brothers do whatever they want to her, and she’ll fucking wish she was dead. I’ll show her that she can’t ever fucking run from me.”

I’d be damned if I let any of that ever happen. If it came down to it, I’d kill my best friend before I let him hurt another hair on her precious head.