As Stryker pulls into Pipe’s garage, my eyes focus on the bikes lining the front of the building. All shiny and new, they’re fucking beautiful. The sight of them alone makes me wish to feel the power between my legs and the wind at my back.
You’re almost there.
What seemed impossible three weeks ago, is starting to look more feasible with every passing week. Physical therapy is a slow process and most days I want to throw in the towel but, I push through. Every session is more grueling than the last and I leave full of aches and pains. I’m still in the chair mostly but now I can balance most of my weight on my good leg. I compensate by using a walker and that allows me to place half my weight on my bad leg. My days of needing someone to help me get to and from my chair or my bed are over.
If I keep at this pace and continue with the swim therapy too, my therapist says I should be walking with a cane in three to four weeks. I’m hoping it won’t be long after until I can straddle my new wheels. Most of our bikes were blown to bits after the bomb and Jack purchased a fleet of Harleys for everyone including me. Mine has been parked here at the garage since the day they left the dealership, waiting for me to break her in and I’m counting down the days until I can take her for a ride.
Turning the car off, Stryker turns to me.
“This is your first time at church since everything, ain’t it?” he questions as I keep my eyes trained out the window.
“Yeah, guess I’m not exempt anymore,” I reply, turning to him. “Either that or Rocco’s ready to make our move.”
I was at therapy when Jack called Stryker and told him we all needed to meet at the garage for church in an hour. Normally, if I’m at therapy and the club needs to meet, me and whoever is my chaperone that day get a pass. Of course, we’re always brought up to speed later that day but today Jack told Stryker I needed to be present. Therapy was cut short and now here we are.
As eager as I am to get back into the swing of things, I’m dreading this meeting. I think everyone is in a way. The closer we get to Yankovich, the sooner our stand-off with the bastard will be and I’m not sure any of us are confident we’re going to survive. Three weeks ago, I didn’t give a fuck if I died. Hell, I was conjuring ways to take my own life. I offered to be the sacrificial lamb in all this bullshit if that don’t tell you I was at the end of my rope, nothing will.
Things changed. I don’t want to die no more. Make no mistake about it, if it comes down to it, I am prepared to lay it all down for my club. That oath I took still holds merit but, I’m kind of hoping we win this thing and not for the obvious reasons.
I want to make things right between me and Kelly. I want to erase all those doubts Sin planted in her head and make her fall back in love with me. I want to cause trouble and wreak havoc with her. I want to love her. I want to work at checking off everything listed on her five-year plan. but, I won’t fucking open that can of worms until Yankovich is put down like the animal he is.
After I told the truth, things continued to be strained between us. While she didn’t go out of her way to avoid me, she simply kept to herself. There was no animosity, there was nothing. It was as if everything I said went in one ear and out the other. To my surprise, Wolf didn’t get involved either.
I know he heard everything we said to one another but, he didn’t call me out on it. Whether he said anything to Kelly, I don’t know. He’s still acting shady as all hell and the secret of Cain still hangs over us. More than anything, I want everything to go back to normal. The problem with that is, I’m not really sure what normal is anymore.
“I guess we can’t hide out in here forever,” Stryker mutters, still gripping the steering wheel.
“You ever regret it?” I ask.
“The club?”
I nod.
“I don’t know if regret is the right word,” he admits. “I just don’t know what it is we’re doing anymore. I look at Jack, Wolf, and Blackie—even Riggs and they still got love for this club. How can they love something that brings so much chaos into their lives? I think we missed the good years of this place. A time when being a Knight was a respectable thing to be. When you were a criminal but also a local hero. They’re still hanging onto the memory of what it was and not accepting what it’s become.”
“Maybe,” I say.
“Let me go get the chair or do you want to give the walker a shot?”
Turning my attention out the window, I span the distance between the car and the garage and debate if I’ll make it. That’s when I spot her. Her blonde hair is pushed off her face and piled high on top of her head. Wearing a pair of jeans and a Satan’s Knights hooded sweatshirt, she rolls a tire across the pavement.
“Linc?” Stryker calls, interrupting my trance.
“Get the chair,” I mutter, keeping my eyes on her. As Stryker rounds the back of the truck and retrieves my chair, I watch Kelly twist the lug nuts off the busted tire she’s looking to swap with the new one she rolled across the lot. Opening my door, I struggle to get out of the truck and the moment my feet touch down on the ground, a sharp pain shoots up my bad leg. Grinding my teeth, I bend my knee and transfer most my weight onto the good leg. Hoping toward the chair, I grab the arms and lower myself.
“Go in, I’ll be right there,” I tell Stryker, not bothering to look at him. Ditching him without explanation, I roll myself toward Kelly. I don’t know if she hears me coming or if she simply feels me drawing near, the same way I seem to always feel her. Crouching next to the tire, she glances over her shoulder at me.
“Hey,” she says. Placing the wrench on the ground she wipes her greasy hands over her thighs and stands.
“You’re working here?” I question, pushing the brake on the chair.
Spinning around, she shrugs her shoulders and meets my gaze.
“Turns out dogs hate me,” she replies.
Cocking my head to the side, I offer her my smile.
“I don’t know if I believe that,” I tease, tearing my eyes away from her, scanning the inside of the garage, my gaze meets Wolf’s before he looks at Kelly. Shaking his head, he turns his attention to the door as the club files in.
“So, does this mean you’ve decided to stay?” I question, drawing my eyes back to Kelly. Gnawing on her bottom lip, she crosses her arms against her chest.
“For now,” she replies with a nod. “Linc—”
“I’ve gotta go,” I interrupt, jutting my thumb over my shoulder to where the guys are crowding around the table. I’m not in the mood to hear all the reasons we should stay away from one another or have her tell me why she’s only planning on sticking around temporarily. I want to keep thinking a small part of her can’t let me go. That maybe she is even wondering if we can make things right between us.
“Right,” she says, dropping her hands to her sides.
“I’ll see you at home,” I add, reaching for my wheels. “And, you can explain why you didn’t come to me for the job.”
Knowing she’d rather ask Wolf than me after I’m the one who suggested it, burns my ass. It also makes me realize gaining Kelly’s trust isn’t going to be easy. I’ve tainted us and sliding back into old habits ain’t going to be as easy as I figured it would. Those walls around her have been reinforced, and it’s going to take a fucking bulldozer to smash them down.
“I think you know the answer to that,” she whispers. “Besides, I haven’t seen you much.”
“You know where I am, Kelly,” I argue. “Just like my door was always open then, it’s open now and I’ve been laying in that bed every night, staring at the door wishing it will open and you’ll come to me.”
“What do you want from me, Linc?”
Everything.
“For starters, you can acknowledge the truth I gave you.”
“And, after that? What happens then?”
Fuck if I know.
“Linc!” Blackie shouts, causing me to glance over my shoulder again.
“Shit,” I hiss. It’s hard not to wonder if I’ll always feel torn between her and the club. There’s always one thing standing in the way and it’s always fucking Satan. “I’ve gotta go,” I say, meeting her gaze. “We’re not done, Kelly.”
Sighing, she tilts her head to the side and juts her chin toward the group of men shooting daggers at my back.
“You better go,” she says softly. “The guy with the long hair looks like he’s going to kill you.”
Fucking Blackie.
I let myself stare at her for another moment, taking in the smudge of grease just beneath her eye, before turning my chair and rolling deeper into the garage, toward Jack’s beloved table.
The same table my father built with his own two hands.
Stryker, Deuce, and Cobra spent days searching for it after the bomb. When they pulled it from the ruins, the legs were mangled and the edges of it were splintered. But, the hand-carved reaper remained intact. As per Blackie’s orders, they sanded it down and nailed it to four new legs. If you ask me it’s a little ironic that both my father’s table and his son needed their legs repaired but, that’s probably me just reaching for a connection to Cain.
Something I’m going to have to stop doing if I ever want to make things right between me and Kelly. Something, I’m going to have to make peace with if I ever want to move on with my life period.
“Nice of you to join us,” Wolf grunts as I roll my wheels to the open spot waiting for me around the table. Ignoring his dig, I glance around, taking in all the faces. My eyes linger on Deuce and the sling around his arm.
“How’s the shoulder, man?” I ask, pointing to where he was shot.
“It’s healing or at least that’s what my hot nurse says,” he replies, elbowing Cobra with his good arm. “I think Wolf will agree, Celeste is mighty fine,” he taunts, wiggling his eyebrows
“Bad enough I gotta swallow you being the guy my sister loves. Now you want to take a shot at my woman?”
“Dude, I fucking saved your life. I took a bullet for you,” Deuce points out. “If that ain’t love, I don’t know what it is. I’m just busting your balls. Hot nurse or not, I only got eyes for one girl.”
“Wonderful,” Jack hisses, lifting a silver meat mallet in his hand. “Now, that we’ve established your dick is a one-woman rodeo can we get down to business?” he questions, bringing the mallet down to the wood.
“What’s with the meat mallet?” I ask, glancing around the table.
“It was our present to Blackie but we’re letting Jack use it for the time being,” Deuce supplies, pointing to Blackie. “I got you, man,” he tells him.
“Is he on medication?” Blackie asks Cobra.
“I’m not sure what he’s on,” Cobra mutters, turning his attention back to me. “We couldn’t find the gavel and none of us are tight enough with a judge to go borrow one,” he points to the mallet. “It does the job.”
“And we had a twenty percent off coupon at Bed, Bath and Beyond,” Stryker adds.
“It’s nice to see everyone in such great spirits,” Jack mutters, swiping a hand down his worn face.
“I fucking love it,” Riggs chimes in. “If you can’t beat them join ‘em,” he says, stretching his arms behind his head. “Makes me want to take a picture and send it to Yankovich.”
“Except we still don’t know where the fuck he is,” Blackie reminds us.
Wolf turns his eyes to Riggs.
“You can hack into the fucking DMV but you can’t find anything in cyberspace on this dickhead?”
“Actually,” Bas interjects, bracing his elbows on top of the table. His long blond hair is tied back in a ponytail and his blue eyes land on Jack. “Me and Needles have a few leads we want to check out with your permission,” he adds.
“Way to make a guy look bad,” Riggs grunts, dropping his arms to his sides.
“What do you mean you have a few leads? Why is this the first time I’m hearing about it?” Jack hisses.
“Well, with all due respect,” Needles starts, stroking a finger down the length of his neatly trimmed beard. “You’ve been otherwise occupied with the situation regarding Blackie’s late wife and this information sort of just dropped into our lap.”
“Rush’s old lady called me two days ago,” Bas supplies. “Clearing out the house she shared with Rush, she came across some papers.”
As the story unfolds, I find myself torn in which direction I should look. At the mention of Blackie’s late wife, our vice president withdraws. He threads his fingers through his overgrown hair and his eyes fade. Then my eyes dart to Deuce as he slams his fist against the table at the mention of Rush.
“Go on,” Jack demands.
Reaching into his cut, Bas produces an envelope. Dropping it onto the table he pushes it into the middle. Wolf grabs it first and starts pulling out the contents as Bas and Needles take turns revealing what he’s looking at.
“There were several discarded pieces of paper. Some have phone numbers scribbled on them, others have addresses. But, if you look at the letterhead on one of them it’s written in Russian,” Needles says.
“We looked into it briefly and the letterhead belongs to an abandoned warehouse in Purchase, New York,” Bas informs.
“How do you know it’s abandoned?” Riggs questions.
“Well, judging by the photos on Google Earth, a rodent couldn’t survive in there,” Needles answers.
“What about these phone numbers?” Wolf asks, pushing the papers across the table to Riggs.
“They’re old and out of service. There are also three other addresses on there we didn’t get a chance to look into,” Bas says.
Flipping through the papers, Riggs studies them before lifting his eyes to Jack.
“All these addresses have the same zip code as the letterhead.”
“The deed to the warehouse is in Yankovich’s brother’s name,” Needles adds.
“It might be worth checking out,” Bas suggests. “While we wait on Rocco.”
“I don’t think we’re going to be waiting much longer,” Jack says, pointing toward the lot. All eyes follow his gaze and watch as the black Maserati stops in front of the garage.
“Did you know he was coming?” Blackie questions.
“He called this morning,” Jack replies. “That’s why we’re all here,” he informs, turning his attention back to Bas. He points a finger between him and Needles before continuing. “Let’s see what Spinelli has to say but, it might be beneficial to dig further,” he says, before casting his dark eyes on Riggs. “Is there anything you can do with these numbers?”
“I can find out who they were registered to,” he says confidently.
The sound of the doors closing causes me to turn my head and I watch Rocco start toward us. Surrounding him are his two usual minions and behind him Anthony Bianci trails. Beside him walks a man dressed as sharply as Victor Pastore once dressed.
“Gentleman,” Rocco greets, undoing the top button of his collared shirt. The man looks uncomfortable dressed in a suit whereas his uncle looked as if he was born to wear them. It makes me wonder how truly comfortable he is standing in Vic’s shoes.
“Spinelli, you better have something for me,” Jack growls.
“Such an impatient man,” Rocco chastises.
“Well, well, if it isn’t my favorite brother-in-law,” Riggs says, drawing our attention to Anthony and the man standing next to him.
“What’re you doing here?” Jack questions, pinning his dark eyes to Bianci’s blues.
“Isn’t it you who taught me not to shy away from a brother in need?” Anthony answers, crossing his broad arms against his chest.
“You crossing over to the other side, Bianci?” Blackie asks.
“Just helping the boys in leather get their due revenge,” he supplies, draping an arm around the man beside him. “I come bearing a present,” he says. “Jack Parrish, meet Artie D’Onofrio.”
Artie walks across the room and stands in front of Jack. Offering his hand, he unbuttons his suit jacket.
“Victor Pastore was an associate of mine,” he reveals.
“What he means, is Uncle Vic saved his ass back in the eighties and Artie here, never repaid that debt,” Rocco interjects. “Isn’t that right, Artie?”
Jack narrows his eyes as he slips his hand into Artie’s.
“That so?”
Ignoring the question, Artie shakes Jack’s hand.
“Anthony and Rocco have brought it to my attention that I never properly repaid my debt to Victor and I’ve agreed to offer my assistance to you as a show of good faith between the organizations,” he shares, dropping Jack’s hand. Shoving a hand into his pocket, he glances around the table. “They’ve brought me up to speed on your situation and I am willing to be your mule.”
“Do you know of Vladimir Yankovich?” Blackie questions.
“I know what he’s done to your club,” Artie answers.
“Then, you understand how crucial it is that we take this bastard down.”
“I have three daughters, so yes, I understand.”
The president and the Chicago based gangster share a silent exchange before Jack nods and offers him his seat at the head of the table.
“Have a seat, Artie,” Jack demands.
Once Artie is seated, Blackie and Riggs pull a few more crates from the back of the garage and past meets present. Though Victor Pastore is missing from our table, silk manages to meet leather and the club forges an alliance with the mob one more time. We share our concerns and iron out the details of our plan and when my name is mentioned, I don’t let Wolf speak for me.
“I think we’re being naïve in believing we can fool him,” I admit. “Being in the hospital for months may have left me off Yankovich’s radar but there is no guarantee he doesn’t know I am part of the club. You guys kept a strong presence at the hospital. If he was tailing you guys, which I think it’s fair to say he was, he knows who I am.”
“Are you backing out?” Deuce questions.
“No, I’m saying we’re fools to think he don’t know me. Originally the plan was for me to go into the card game and earn his trust. That’s not going to happen.”
“It was your suggestion,” Blackie reminds me.
“Well, I’ve had a little more time to digest what’s been going on,” I counter. “I’m not saying the card game isn’t our in with the devil. I’m saying we need to rework our strategy.”
“He’s right,” Jack agrees.
“May I?” Artie questions and Jack nods. “What is the goal here? Do any of you really give a damn what his motives are or what his next step is? I mean, if I were in your shoes all I’d care about is cutting him at the knees. I’d want him to pay for all his crimes.”
Silence engulfs the garage as we all take turns looking at one another. Finally, everyone looks at Jack for guidance and the final decision.
“What about the two girls that went missing around the same time as Ally? They’re still unaccounted for and who knows how many more there are that we don’t even know about,” Cobra says.
“I know this is personal for you,” Jack starts. “That you lost your sister and out of all of us, I imagine this is hardest on you but, you got her back now. As much as we want to save everyone, I think it’s time we accept the fact we can barely save our own.”
If you know Jack Parrish, you know it’s killing him to admit he isn’t some vigilante god. The man doesn’t want to accept defeat but, he’s sworn to keep the people in our circle safe. He’s put a lot on his plate, made a lot of people property of Parrish and to know he’s scared of losing them doesn’t make him any less of a leader. It makes him human.
“It’s time to pray those girls find peace wherever they are and end this nightmare,” Jack says hoarsely, looking back at Artie. “What are you suggesting?”
“From what Rocco and Anthony have both told me, this is a power play. Your club and Rocco’s organization are both threats to his operation. It seems he wants you off the map so he can control the harbor. You say he moves girls and drugs through shipping containers and whatnot, with Rocco holding the contract to the shipping yards and you the ruler of the streets, you’re making his work more difficult. That’s where I come in. I play the man who wants to be his business partner. I show up at his card game with your guy but instead of conning him the way we originally planned, we make him think I’ve abducted Linc. We’ll make it look like I roughed him up,” he says, turning his gaze to me. His eyes dart to the wheelchair. “What’s the deal with the chair?”
“I’m a lazy bum,” I bite back sarcastically. “What do you think the deal is? The motherfucker blew up our clubhouse. My legs were fucked up and I’ve been trying to teach myself to walk again.”
“Perfect,” Artie says. “Then it would be believable to him when I make it look like I broke into your house, tore shit up and took you to further my agenda.”
“Ain’t nobody tearing shit up in a house I’m paying double for,” Wolf grunts.
“As I was saying,” he starts, ignoring Wolf’s outburst. “…we make it look like I attacked the club by taking one of your men. Rocco gets me into the card game and I show up with you,” he points a finger toward me. “He’ll either go ballistic or he’ll remain calm but, we’ll be prepared for either.” He turns to Jack. “You and your men will be on call for the game. You’ll know where it is and be ready for action. If he remains calm, I’ll explain my agenda to him. That I took your guy as a show of good faith to partner with him and take both you and Rocco down. You’re good with cards, yes?” Artie questions, ignoring Wolf. “If Yankovich has really done his homework that is something he’ll know and there is a chance he will bring me into the fold. With any luck, he’ll reveal his motive, maybe even disclose where he’s keeping those girls you mentioned but, it’ll get you in the door and then it’s up to you to decide how he pays for everything he’s done.”
“When is the card game?” Jack asks, turning to Rocco.
“It’s weekly but, Artie is going to have to reach out and attempt a buy-in.”
“I’ll have one of my associates reach out,” Artie offers. “He’ll likely deny me seeing as he has no idea who I am but we’ll be persistent until he caves.”
“And if he doesn’t?” Blackie counters.
“Then I show up with your guy anyway,” he answers simply. “Make a big show of it, crash his party and demand his attention. Either way, we’re going to get in.”
“Not if you don’t know where he’s hosting the game.”
“I’m a very resourceful man, Mr. Parrish,” Artie assures. “If he doesn’t accept me as a player, I will find where the game is being held.” He turns his eyes back to me. “I’ll bring you to Yankovich,” he promises. “You just be ready to deliver him his sentence.”
After months of uncertainty, we finally have a solid plan in place. One would think it would feel as if a weight was lifted but, the tension thickens around us as we realize we’re closer to Hell than we’ve ever been before.
It’s not a lonely ride.
It’s a doomed one.