Chapter 31

Dart

I don’t get much sleep Friday night. In my head, I’ve been going over and over our plans, trying to think of everything that could go wrong, and if it does, what we can do to manage it. I’d been worrying most about getting Thompson to the destination we’d planned, but Lost was the one who’d come through on sorting that out.

Unlike the Tucson chapter, where we avoid having anything to do with the cops and have none on our payroll, Snake had decided to pull a couple into the San Diego fold. For now they’re still getting a retainer, remaining ignorant for now that the new president is considering cutting them loose. He’s managed for one to arrange to report a sighting of Alex directly to Thompson. He’s sure to believe another cop, so we’ve little doubt he’ll be hot off the mark to follow that lead up. Thompson should be given the info just after eleven. We’re leaving at ten to be at the Valley Center location well ahead of him.

As I enter the clubroom brothers are already milling around, and there’s an air of excitement about the run later today.

I reel as Lost slaps my back. “Look at this, VP. Brothers are already awake and getting’ their shit organised. You made a good call. Needed somethin’ like this to make us feel like a family again.”

Yeah, from the general atmosphere, it’s all looking good. Even Scribe’s grinning as he talks to Brakes, and Dusty is laughing at something Token has said. Seeing Salem walking in through the door, I check my phone. Time’s getting on, it’s almost ten o’clock now. When Pennywise enters, pushing the three prospects in front of him, I go to join them.

I feel like I’m stripping naked as I slide off my cut and hand it to Al. Salem gives his to Lloyd, and Pennywise's goes to Dave. If anyone checks any CCTV later, they’ll see the right number of bikers, and if they look closely enough, all the patched members’ cuts.

“One scratch on my bike and you’ll never patch in,” I warn Al with a growl.

With equally serious faces, Salem and Pennywise issue similarly dire threats of their own. Then we all pass our bike keys over. If everything works, my reward will be a world without Thompson in it, and Alex a free woman later today.

“Good luck.” Lost comes over, and that’s all he says. No one but him knows the detail of what we’re doing today.

And then that’s it. With no fanfare, we quietly leave.

We’re silent in the truck. Having gone over the plan so many times before, there’s no need for further discussion. We drop Pennywise off and then continue up to the empty cabin Salem had found, hiding the truck in a hidden-away parking spot he suggested. Using a handy tool, I disengage the lock and go inside the cabin. Putting on latex gloves, I then proceed to make it look like somebody’s been staying here. Once I’m happy, I carefully place a pamphlet from the hospital Tyler used to go to, and an appointment card for this afternoon in a not too obvious place. It’s the bait to get Thompson chasing back to the city.

Then I go outside, and prepare to wait with Salem.

We were right. The tip-off’s got Thompson responding fast, obviously not wanting to lose Alex again. He arrives minutes before we expected him to. We grin at each other and place bets on how long it will take. Salem wins, Thompson was faster than I thought, running out of the cabin and back to his car, which tears out of the driveway, spinning gravel and dust. Once he’s away, I run back inside to check, before making my way back to our truck.

Thompson’s found the lure I’d left and plainly swallowed it up.

With no need to follow him, I wait until he’s out of sight before pulling the SUV out of its spot.

Salem’s grinning like a loon as he picks up his phone. “Phase one completed, Brother. And he’s comin’ your way fast. Best get yourself in place. He’s speedin’.” He then tells him the colour and make of the vehicle he’s driving.

As he ends his call, I frown. “That shot’s not gonna be easy.”

“Pennywise is fuckin’ good at this. He’ll make it okay. Spot he’s chosen is only five hundred yards away. Piece of cake, VP.”

I wish I had his confidence. After everything, if Pennywise misses, all our planning was for nothing.

“And anyway,” the enforcer continues, “the speed we saw him go out of here will increase the chances that tire blowin’ out has the results we’re looking for. That’s a dangerous road to take fast, Brother.”

I need to know for certain and see with my own eyes. I increase the speed, but keep to the limit, not wanting to draw any attention today. Ten minutes later and Salem’s phone rings. “I’ll tell him.”

Unable to discern anything from the tone of his voice, I slap my hand on the steering wheel and demand impatiently, “Just tell me already.”

“Worked like a charm.”

And fuck me, we’re coming up on the evidence now. The guardrail’s bent where the car must have clipped it when it went over. It’s a long fucking drop. There are no other cars around, so I allow myself to slow.

Salem’s craning his head out of the passenger window. “Can’t see the car, but there’s black smoke billowin’ up. Car’s burnin’ up, Brother. Couldn’t have asked for a fuckin’ better result.”

Burn well enough there won’t be anything left to investigate. Best fucking outcome I could have asked for. I’d like to have made sure, but the likelihood of Thompson surviving the crash was extremely small. And we can’t stop or hang about.

We go on to the pick-up point and pull over. Pennywise is nowhere to be seen.

“What the fuck?”

Salem’s phone rings again. “Okay, we’ll stay put.” He turns to me. “Got your wish, Brother. Pennywise decided to jog down aways to check it out. Thompson was thrown clear, and from the way he’s landed he obviously broke his neck. No fucker can survive with their head facing backwards.”

I’m still letting out a deep sigh of relief as the back door opens and Pennywise gets in. He’s panting from exertion having had to run a third of a mile and then back.

As soon as he catches his breath he tells us, “It’s burning up fast. Best get out of here in case someone comes to investigate. Oh, and, thought you’d want this, Dart. It was in his pocket.”

As a piece of card flutters onto my lap I see it’s the appointment card I’d left as bait. The fake evidence that could have exposed it wasn’t an accident. I don’t have the words to thank him. He shrugs it off and tells me to get moving.

He doesn’t need to tell me twice. As I shift into drive and put my foot down, I almost can’t believe it. Thompson is dead. And Alex can come out of hiding.

“Fuck, that was fun, VP. He must have been doing a hundred or more. Didn’t have a fuckin’ chance when that tire blew up.” Now breathing easier, Pennywise seems hyped up.

Salem and I exchange grins.

When we draw up at the beach we find the prospect, Lloyd, who’s been left on duty watching the bikes. As we draw to a stop he runs to the truck and approaches us carrying our cuts reverently in his hands. While we slide them on, he also hands over our keys.

Salem goes across and inspects his bike. “What the FUCK!”

Lloyd goes pale.

Stomping back over, the enforcer’s face is thunderous. Then he smirks. “Just fuckin’ with ya, Prospect.”

I double over, chuckling at the look on Lloyd’s face. I think he was close to shitting himself. When my mirth fades and I straighten, I see a man checking out the bikes parked up. There’s a Harley that’s not one of ours a little further along the beach, an older model Sportster. The man’s wearing jeans and motorcycle boots, but no cut.

Lloyd notices what I’m looking at and steps forward with a scowl.

“I got this,” I tell him. As Salem and Pennywise head on down to the beach I walk to join the newcomer. He’s a tall man, probably my height, and has muscular arms which are covered in tattoos. As I get closer he notices me approaching and raises his hands as if to show he’s no threat.

I lift my chin and flick my wrist, signalling that he needn’t be concerned. He waits for me to get close enough to speak, and now in range I can read some of the writing on one of his arms, Live to Ride, and above that, the words, Semper Fi.

I nod towards his bike. “Early ‘90s?” I admire it. It’s in factory state, hasn’t been altered or customised at all. Hard to find a blank canvass like that.

“Yeah, I’ve just got it. Fucker who owned it kept it in fairly good shape. No gimmicks at all, just how I like it. 883 bored out to 1200. Didn’t take much more than a service to bring it up to scratch.” He jerks his head towards our Harleys. “Nice selection here.”

“You ride with a club?”

He grins and looks around him. Yeah, pretty foolish question as there’s no one else there. “Only clubs that I know are into too much shit for me. Or are just full of weekend warriors.”

Well, we were into shit, but we’re now trying to stay clean. “We’re having a cookout on the beach. Wanna come join us for a bit?”

He steps back and looks at me sharply, obviously thinking I’m setting him up to walk into a trap.

Ignoring his reaction, I continue. “Satan’s Devils is all about the brotherhood. We eat live and sleep bikes.” I’ve become pretty good at summing people up, and something tells me that might interest him.

“And what else are you into?” he asks, suspiciously.

“Earning an honest wage.”

He looks incredulous.

“Some of my brothers work in the auto shop. We got a lot of custom work going on.” I point to his arms. “Nice work, there. We’ve also got a tattoo shop, and a strip club.”

His face relaxes into a quick grin at the last. Yeah, he’s just a man as much as the rest of us.

“Hey, what say you come join us? Grab a bite to eat, talk bikes with the boys?”

I’ve almost got him, but then he steps back and makes a move to his bike. When he walks he favours his left leg. I want to keep him talking, so I wave my hand toward it. “Get that overseas?”

He sees where I’m looking and pulls up his pants, allowing me to see a prosthesis, similar to the one Peg wears. “Nah, stupid fuckin’ woman knocked me off my bike when I was on leave. Compounded her error by runnin’ over my leg. I was going to be a lifer, but they gave me a medical discharge.”

“Noticed the tattoo. Marine?”

“Yeah.” He looks into the distance, and regret passes over his face. It’s easy to see he misses being part of a team.

“Look, I’ll be straight with ya. It’s up to you, but I reckon you’re lookin’ for a home. A brotherhood to belong to. If I’m wrong, I’ll apologise to ya.”

He shrugs, and there’s that look of longing on his face again. “Can’t say yer wrong.”

“Then come join us, see if we’ve got somethin’ you like. Won’t lie to ya, we don’t accept new members easy. See that guy there?” I indicate Lloyd. “He’s happy to do that shit job of looking after the bikes. We may, or may not, let him down for some food. He’s a prospect, and given all manner of shit jobs for a year or so, until we have sufficient confidence and trust to vote him in.”

“You served?”

I nod.

“Then you’ll know anyone who has can put up with a whole heap of the smelly stuff.”

I’ve almost got him, now I just have to reel him in.

He’s still wary. “Saw your boys ride in. You’re a white club. And there ain’t no getting away from the colour of my skin.”

I shade my eyes as though giving him a look like I hadn’t noticed he was black until he’d pointed it out. Then I grin. “Dart,” I tell him, holding out my hand for him to shake. “I’m the VP, the vice president of this chapter. And I’m on the lookout for new members.”

He looks a little more interested now I’ve explained my rank.

“Ain’t gonna kid yer, I’ve just taken an ol’ lady, and she’s got the same colour as you. She’s got a young son which forced a decision on the club. We changed our bylaws to accept all members, black, white, purple, or fucking blue. You come with me? You’ll be our first black member. Not gonna lie and say there won’t ever be any awkwardness or that it will always be easy, but there ain’t nothin’ stopping ya becoming a part of the club.”

He straightens his back and flexes his impressive muscles. “I can handle my own.” And he looks like he can.

I give him a few moments to process what I’ve told him. Then his mouth quirks, one side turning up followed by the other, and then a full smile appears on his face. As he holds out his hand I grasp it, and pulling him to me, slap him on the back.

“What’s yer name?”

“Simpson. Niran Simpson.”

“Well, Niran, sounds like we’ve got a party to go to.” I turn and walk off. After just a second’s hesitation, Niran steps alongside me.