THIRTY
Country was going to have an aneurism, but not before Blake had his. The shit Talia had spilled outraged him as much as it saddened him.
To think that Blaze, of all people, was in cahoots with the enemy? It floored him. And don’t even get him started on Tanner. That little shit! Did Moose know his nephew was feeding information to another club? He had so many questions.
Not to even fucking mention that Talia had not only met up with goddamn Bambi, of all people, but some dick from work who’d bounced the second the heat came down on top of the Spartans? Some shit was up right there. He’d suspected it from the start, but there was no evidence. Until now. The little weasel had come to his woman in secret, using a former bunny as a go-between. Talia only confirmed it. He had intel because he’d been spying, and he’d been using a prospect to do it.
“We don’t know for sure,” Repo reasoned, but no one was feeling all that reasonable at the moment.
When Talia confessed that she’d found possible ties between, Tanner, Blaze, and Ricky Cruiz’s band of bastards, it took everything inside Country to hold the promise Repo had made to the women and not flip his shit—so much deception.
Wouldn’t do anyone any damn good anyway. Losing your cool was the first step toward losing everything. A level head always prevailed. And Country was one cool cucumber.
At least, that’s what he was telling himself. It was the only thing stopping him from scattering furniture all over the lawn.
That and Blake would probably tear him a new asshole. Assuming the fucker could catch him, ha!
“It’s FBI info,” Blake grumbled, rubbing the skin between his eyes. He was stressed to the max, didn’t need this shit landing on his doorstep.
But as the saying went, when it rains it pours. They’d had a lot of rain as of late.
“Doesn’t mean it’s solid,” Repo insisted. “We’ve known Blaze for how long?”
“Forever,” Country inserted.
“Right. He’s never given us reason to doubt his loyalty. Why start now?”
“I don’t know,” Blake said as he shot out of his chair and started pacing the length of the deck. The women had been sent inside an hour ago to leave them to talk this shit out, but Country had no doubt they were probably on the other side of that wall with their ears pressed to cups trying to hear what they were saying.
Club business wasn’t for ol’ ladies, but that didn’t stop them from trying to glean what they could.
“I don’t know who to trust anymore,” Blake was saying. “You think you know someone, and they turn around one day and stab you in the back.”
Repo and Country stayed silent, not only because they’d had their fair share of experience in the matter, but also because it was obvious by his puffed-up shoulders and the fire shooting from his eyes that Blake wasn’t in the mood for a debate.
“Money, power, it changes people,” Blake continued. “You saw what it did to my father. He was a cruel bastard, only out for glory. He didn’t give a shit what it did to his men, his family.”
That was true, too. Blake’s old man had the whole club in dire straits, half its members incarcerated, having already been, or about to be before he was knocked off and Blake stepped up to fill his shoes. Which he’d more than filled out. Blake had a vision for the club and a drive and determination that was more than impressive.
He was the only reason they were still standing here instead of serving a life sentence; of that, Country had no doubt.
“If you’re saying Cruiz bought Blaze’s loyalty, I disagree,” Repo told him flatly. “But Tanner…that’s another story.”
Country would say he was surprised, but if anyone was willing to stand up to the Prez, it would be him. Repo had zero fucks to give when he had something to say.
It was kind of admirable really.
Not that Country was weak in any way. He spoke his mind often and hurt feelings just as much, but he still maintained a certain level of discretion and shut-your-mouth when it came to his superiors.
“Money and power don’t buy loyalty,” Country said because they all knew that shit was earned.
“Exactly what I mean,” Repo argued. “We earned his respect and that of his men. Why would they throw that all away on some sleazy vato with delusions of grandeur? I just don’t see it.”
“Maybe you’re right, maybe you’re wrong,” Blake said, the exhaustion they felt apparent in his voice. “All I know is something ain’t right. We’ve been picking the city apart and turning over every rock we find, and nothing. But this? This is something, and it holds some weight. Tanner has direct access to all of us. I hate to say it, but it’s plausible he’s the leak we’ve been looking for.”
“I’ll look into it,” Country volunteered, needing the distraction now more than ever. “If there’s something to be found, I’ll find it.”
“No, you’ve been burying yourself in this shit for too long. You’re over your head.”
“The fuck I am,” Country almost shouted. “I’ve been pouring my blood, sweat, and tears into this to ensure the safety of the club and everyone tied to it.”
“That’s what I mean,” Blake told him, his hard gaze meeting Country’s. “You’ve thrown yourself into the deep end on this one, and I appreciate it. I really do. But you’re close to coming unglued, and that’s the last thing we need happening. You got too many people depending on you to fuck up.”
“Who says I’m going to fuck up anything?” Country was a thin inch from losing his shit. He could feel it, the anger and indignation, boiling in his veins. “You know me, Blake. I’m cool under pressure. Always have been, always will be. That’s what made me so good at my job. I can investigate Tanner and Blaze, and no one has to know besides us.”
“I know, but this isn’t the Middle East, and you aren’t part of that world anymore. You’re ready to go to war. I can see it in your eyes, and I don’t want you launching that warhead unless or until it’s necessary.”
So, what he was saying was that he had no faith in Country to do the job right. Wasn’t that some shit. “What are you saying, you want me off the job? You want me to back off while you let someone else take the reins?”
Blake’s slate gray eyes held something in them that County didn’t like, not one bit—pity. “Tucker,” he said on a sigh, “I know about your problems at home. I know you haven’t been sleeping, and judging from that extra notch punched in your belt, I’m thinking you’re not eating much either lately.”
Country gritted his teeth. He’d been busy, not purposefully neglecting his life or his health. He’d been down this road before on other jobs, other missions, but it always leveled out eventually. Once this was over, the mystery solved, and the problem handled, he’d be one hundred again. What he didn’t need was people telling him what to do. But he wasn’t going to say that. Instead, out of respect and fear of what might come out that he couldn’t take back, he shut his damn mouth and stared right back at his Prez, telling himself he wasn’t about to reach out and strangle the life out of him.
Which probably had been his first clue that the man was on to something.
“I think it would be best to turn this over to some of the other guys, Taco maybe, since we can’t be sure about Moose until you can handle your business.”
“So, you’re cutting me out.”
“No. I’m telling you to scale back for now. Take a breather. You’re still part of everything, just let someone else handle the grunt work for now.”
His words were meant to placate him, but Country saw it as a castration. He was being stripped of his power to help, and at a critical time. Add that to the secrets and lies, coming from his woman, no less? He was about to blow his top off.
“You know what, fuck you,” he growled. “I do everything for this club, and this is how I’m thanked? Bullshit.”
“Don’t be a dick,” Repo told him. “This isn’t just about you.”
“No, it’s not. It’s about everyone. I’m one of your strongest assets, and you’re sidelining me?” Country stabbed a finger at Blake. “If you can’t see how that adversely affects us all, then you’re no better than your father.”
He didn’t wait around for a reply. Country was down the deck steps and pounding through the grass toward the front of the house. He probably should have called for Talia to get her ass out there, too, so they could go home, but he wasn’t much in the mood for seeing her face right now and he damn sure wasn’t planning on going home. Country needed space and time to clear his head, and he knew just how and where to do it.
***
“I wonderrred how long it’d take for you offend me,” Country slurred.
Repo stared down at him, shaking his head. The asshole was three sheets to the wind—make that four. And he was at The Tavern, making a spectacle of himself.
After Country had stormed out of there, he and Blake had let the subject drop for the time being. There wasn’t much more that could be done without holding church anyway. They needed all the guys in on this.
Plus, the women were listening. They could tell by the way the blinds kept shifting every other minute. Since they’d already shown what they would do with sensitive information, he and Blake silently agreed that they’d shelve this until later.
Then Repo and Ginger had ridden out of there, following Blake in his truck for a few stop signs as he took a visibly upset Talia home, before branching off toward his own place. Ginger had been quiet the whole way, and he aimed to get to the bottom of that one, but he’d needed to find Country first to make sure he wasn’t getting himself into any trouble.
Looked like he was a just a little late to the party.
“So, this is how you handle your shit? Get your sloppy ass up. I’m taking you home.” Repo grunted as he bent and tried to lift Country’s dead weight from the chair. Repo wasn’t a small man; the fucker was deceptively heavy. Plus, he wasn’t fully healed yet. God bless the man who invented painkillers.
“I’m gathering information,” Country said with a hiccup. “It’s my…my job.” At least he’d put his feet under him, which helped Repo walk-stagger him out.
“The only thing you’re doing is gathering witnesses. You’re drunk, bro, and in the wrong place, too.” If Talia’s information was even half true, then the last place they needed to be was here. If it turned out they couldn’t trust Blaze, then that meant they couldn’t trust Lou, the owner of The Tavern, either.
They needed to leave, now, before things took a bad turn. Repo was still holding out hope that they were wrong, but he liked to play it on the safe side. That’s how he’d lived this long. Sure, he liked to take out kneecaps and revoke some basic privileges, like a man’s right to breathe, but he was careful. That’s what mattered.
“She lied to me,” Country bemoaned.
Catching Lou’s eye, who stood behind the bar with a look of concern aimed their way, Repo lifted his chin as he stumble-walked his brother through the door and into the parking lot.
The air was humid as fuck, the sky overcast, indicating that a storm was coming. And wasn’t that just fucking ironic as hell.
“She told you the truth,” Repo informed Country as he led him past his bike and to his truck. He’d have to call ahead and send for a prospect to come pick it up. No way should a piece of machinery like that be left alone for too long. Didn’t matter where they were or who they associated with. Someone was always out to take what wasn’t theirs eventually.
“She lied first.”
Repo depressed the button on the key fob to unlock the doors then shoved Country toward the passenger side. The little princess was as wobbly as a newborn foal, but hey, he was going to have to pull his shit together. Repo wasn’t about to scoop him up like a bride and strip them both of their manhood in the middle of biker central.
“Talia was trying to help, so stop being an asshole,” he scolded. “Should she have come to you right away? Yes, but that’s not what happened. But she did come to you. Cut her some slack.”
There was a reason why women weren’t involved in club business. They thought with their hearts and that invited trouble. Men were more cut-to-the-chase. They got shit done, while women tended to drag shit out, think too much.
He was upset too that Ginger and the other two went off and did something so stupid, but he realized that they had stepped foot into a world they didn’t know nearly enough about, so, like children, they deserved some leeway.
Country shot him a scathing, glassy-eyed glare. “You got a hard-on for my woman?”
“Right now, the only hard-on I have is for my bed and the redhead that’s waiting for me in it. Pull your shit together, bro.”
With one hand on the open passenger door to hold him steady, Country looked him over as if Repo were a piece of gum stuck to the bottom of his shoe. “You better hope—”
Repo took two long strides, bringing them face to face, nose to nose, and grabbed hold of Country’s arm like he was an insolent child who needed directing. And direct him he did, right into the passenger seat. “You’d better hope you don’t finished that sentence,” he warned, “or you’ll be spending tomorrow morning getting fitted for dentures.”
He slammed the door in Country’s face then rounded the truck, eager to dump the drunken bastard on his doorstep. He hoped the guy puked his guts out all night, having an attitude like that. No one spoke to Repo that way—no one. The only reason Country stepped to him like that was because he didn’t know what he was talking about. That’s what Repo told himself as he traversed the dark roads back to town. Otherwise, he’d be feeding his long-time brother a knuckle sandwich, and that was something he tried to avoid—tended to screw up friendships. So tonight, he got a pass. Come tomorrow, Repo was going to remind the kid of his place, though, so it didn’t happen again. He only gave a free pass once. After that, he wasn’t responsible for his actions.
Unfortunately, Drunk Country didn’t know how to keep his mouth shut. A block away from the apartment he and Talia shared, he turned to Repo and said, “Did I ever tell you about the time Red sucked my dick?”
Instantly, Repo saw red. His hand left the steering wheel in a blur, and then it was lights out for little Gracie.