Exacting Revenge

by Kimmie Easley

  “He’s fine. He’s tracking the perimeter with some of the prospects. Oh, shit!” Duke shouts just before he shoves me away from the panes of glass.

  “Hey!” I scream, bouncing on my ass.

  The man’s hands fly to his temples, clenching his head. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I think I just saw cherries!”

  Before I can speak, Stoner skirts the corner, confirming Duke’s suspicions.

  “The cops are here.” However, his gaze quickly lands on me, still huddled on the hardwood with the large man hovering over me. Stoner doesn’t ask questions before reacting. He rushes Duke, connecting his fist with the man’s nose, sending a cracking sound echoing off the vaulted ceiling.

  “Goddamn it!” Duke pinches his nose to stop the gushing blood.

  I jump to my feet, ignoring the weakness in my wobbling knees. Pain radiates up my backside.

  “Stop!” My body hangs off Stoner’s constricted bicep.

  “Hey, did I miss something?”

  The three of us spin to find Brad scratching his crotch with the end of a lighter, which he’s obviously carrying for the bong in his other hand.

  What is happening to my fucking life?

  It’s as if I’ve been transported to a parallel universe where Jessa is concerned for someone other than herself and Brad is the new equivalent of the meth-head on millionaire row.

  I crack.

  The suppressed ball of emotion simmering in my belly bubbles over, sending me into a fit of giggles. My tummy begins to ache, and I double over, laughing in hysterics.

  Brad opens his arms wide with a dumbfounded expression. “What?” He asks, which only sends me further over the edge into a deep, uncontrolled fit.

  Duke swipes at the steady stream of crimson pouring from his nostrils, staring blankly at me.

  Stoner shifts his gaze back to Duke. “I think she’s losing it.”

  I squeal with unnerved giggles.

  The three men fidget, clearly uneasy.

  Heat flushes up the back of my neck, searing my ears and cheeks. The statuesque, log beams appear to grow ten feet, until I realize it’s me, falling backwards.

  The last sounds I hear is the incessant banging coming from the front door.

  “Open up! Sheriff’s Department!”

  ***

  The tickle of shampoo and cigarette smoke catches my dry tongue. I struggle to lift my head from what I would learn later is Jessa’s bed. Bracing myself under the pressure from my swimmy brain, I collapse against the mound of pillows.

  “Hey, there she is.” Jessa is at my side with a damp washcloth.

  Her eyes are encased by black circles and her skin is dull, almost gray. “You look like shit.”

  “Yeah, well, looks like we’re paddling upstream in the same boat, little sister.”

  “I guess it doesn’t help that I feel like shit too.” I trail my fingertips along my skull, examining the swollen bump.

  “You should. Sounds like you hit the ground like a ton of bricks. Don’t try to move too quickly,” she warns. “Here, take these.”

  She hands me two small tablets. I arch my brow.

  “They’re just Tylenol. Shit.”

  I shrug, hoping the medicine will work on the throbbing, shooting pain, like shards of glass piercing my aching head. I swallow the pills, followed by an entire bottle of water.

  Like the vapors from the wreckage, a heaviness lingers. “The fire? How long was I out?”

  “Long enough to have missed most of the excitement. There was a swarm of pigs. We could have used your legal-ese. Anyway, somehow, Bonnie and Tammy managed to get Brad to sober up long enough to appease them, for now, I guess.”

  “What was burning?”

  Jessa lowers her head, breaking eye contact. “It was a car.”

  I shake my head, attempting to rattle the string of events loose, remembering the violent blast. “Whose was it?”

  Jessa leans against the wall, sliding down to her feet. “We don’t know the answer to that and it’s probably better that we don’t. We don’t want any ties to connect us to the message they left behind.”

  “Message?”

  “From what Stoner was able to figure out before the cops got here, it looks like there was an artillery pack in the car, probably the trunk. One shot and that’s it. The fucker blew.” She rakes her hands through her knotted hair. “Once they put out the fire and hauled the car away, they were able to uncover a large X spray painted on the asphalt.”

  I scramble to sit up, snubbing the pain. “It’s not going to take a rocket scientist to put that shit together.”

  “I know, calm down. Duke’s getting a couple of guys together. They’re going to make their rounds with the neighbors.”

  “And do what?” I gawk at my older sister.

  “What do you think? Make sure they don’t talk about seeing any Xs around here.” She stands, plucking the rag from my hand and vanishing into the restroom. She returns, placing the cloth on my forehead. “This is what we do. They’re not gonna hurt anyone.”

  I wish I could believe her. “Who do we think ‘they’ are?”

  “It can only be the Pistol Kings or…”

  “Or Zombie,” I finish.

  She nods.

  “But,” I replay every move we’ve made up until this point. “How did they find us? We’ve been so careful.”

  “Yeah, that’s what we were talking about earlier. No idea where the breach came in. Hell, if it had just been an explosion, we could have pinned on some pot dealing mommy down the road or some shit like that. But, not with that message. It’s clear.”

  “And Brad was able to brush off the cops?”

  She lifts her pointed shoulders and exhales. “For now.” Jessa cocks her hip out, planting her hand on the protruding bone. “Stoner has him locked up in the media room sleeping off his bender. He has to be downtown in the morning to answer questions. No big deal, though. So do all the neighbors.”

  “Any word from Pop or Ronin?”

  Her stare is masked with pity as she softly shakes her head.

  “I think I want to sleep.”

  She nods. “Ok, let me know if you need anything.”

  “Thanks,” I say, my tone sincere. I wait for her to leave, the clicking of her boots against the hardwood drifts as she disappears. Alone, my mind spins with fleeting thoughts, praying that Ronin and my father are safe.

  Zombie has been laying low, no doubt waiting for the perfect opportunity. He could be out there now. We could all be sitting here like ducks on an open pond.

  I fling back the covers, relieved to find that I’m still dressed, and sprint for the door. I slam right into a breathless Jessa. She’s promptly followed by Duke and Stoner.

  “We in danger,” I stammer. “Get everyone together in one room so we can come up with a game plan.”

  “Too late,” Duke offers.

  I dart my shadowy stare between their downturn faces. They all three share the same concerned expression.

  “What?”

  Jessa steps out from the trio. She glances back over her shoulder before speaking her next two words.

  “Ruth’s gone.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  (Ronin)

  Another couple of hours hammering the pavement gives me a wicked case of monkey butt. Our three-man convoy pulls off on the designated exit. I know the rally point well. Fugi and I agreed to meet on neutral territory, against Clint’s advice. He made it clear that he wanted it to go on record that he was not on board with the new plan.

  Not that he had a choice.

  I have a secret. I kept part of the phone call with Fugi to myself. When Clint asked me why the Pistol Kings would suddenly grace us with such a gift, I had to play stupid. Not that I can fool him, which explains why he’s been badgering me ever since.

  I also didn’t tell them that it was Jesse who tried to call earlier, and I sent it straight to voicemail.

  I detour off the highway long enough to check in wi
th my brothers one last time before the meeting. I jerk my brain bucket from my head and rotate to face the others. “You guys ready for this?”

  Clint rests one hand on his knee and rubs the back of his neck. “It would help if we knew what ‘this’ actually was, but I guess I’m just following you.”

  “Look, I know where you stand. I get it, but this is something I have to do. I’ll never forgive myself if we had the chance to take out Zombie and we let it slide because the club is scattered all over bum fuck Egypt.”

  “That’s just it. We’re not just scattered. We’re fucking divided.” Clint directs a hand toward Herc and Troy. “Come on. You guys can weigh in anytime.”

  They look at each other. Herc just gawks, his round, robot-like eyes pleading for the scene to unfold without him and whatever route causes the least damage has his vote.

  Troy shifts his stance from one leg to another. “I don’t know what the hell’s going on with the rest of the goddamn chapter, but back home, when there was shit to be handled, that’s what the fuck happened. Shit got taken care of. None of this back and forth shit.”

  “Maybe we’re not a bunch of half-witted numb nuts. Things are done differently around here. You need to learn that and the faster, the better.”

  Troy uses his fingers to comb his hair back from his face. “Yeah, well, maybe it’s time for a change.”

  “You think you’re the one who’s gonna bring about that change?” Clint spews the words as he spreads his legs, rolling his shoulders.

  Troy narrows his gaze.

  I jump in before the two throw down.

  “Come on. The last thing we need is to turn on each other. Get your shit together. I’m calling the fucking shots. Got it?”

  Troy nods.

  Herc does the same.

  Clint throws his hands in the air before planting them on his waist and exhaling. “Whatever.”

  “You have to trust me on this.” I steer my attention to my oldest friend. “I would never do anything to jeopardize this club. At least give me that.”

  He stares at me. His procrastination creates a heaviness in my chest.

  “Fine,” he states before stomping back to his bike.

  I decide not to push it. I’ve claimed my place as leader. Now, I have to claim the responsibility and whatever consequences that will come with it. The consequences that come with threading off on our own. The consequences that come with making calls without deferring to the president. The consequences that come with not answering Jesse’s call and telling my brothers that Fugi insisted on one stipulation – coming alone.

  The next stop?

  Zombie.

  Now, a hundred miles south of Jericho, I prepare to meet our enemy. I can almost feel the icicle daggers piercing my back. I continue to overlook Clint’s obvious disapproval.

  After finding the familiar road sign, I lead us down the paved trail that winds around the lake. Once I pass the bait shop, I spot Fugi and his two henchmen.

  The tall, skinny man leans against his sled wearing dark shades. His ten-inch beard is tied back with black rubber bands. I recognize the other two men as Cesar, the King’s VP, and Thumper, their Road Captain. I can’t help but wonder if there are more of them lurking in the shadows. If the Executioners had been on different terms at the moment, that would have been my move.

  I struggle to maintain my composure. Adrenaline skyrockets through my heated blood. I focus straight ahead, silently willing my brothers to be on board, even if it’s only for these few moments. We can all go back to family squabbling later.

  Fugi, a half a foot taller than his crew, steps out first. “Glad to see you made the right decision, son.” He extends a lone, boney hand.

  “Don’t call me that.” I accept, pumping his elderly arm one good time. “Now, let’s get down to business. I hear you have some information for us?”

  Cesar shakes his head. “Wrong.”

  “Sorry?” Clint breaks forward.

  Herc twists his head, snapping his attention toward Cesar.

  The man and Thumper smirk, ready to pounce until Fugi erects one fist high in the air, causing them to halt in their tracks.

  I inhale, attempting to steady my breathing. “Are you really going to tell me that I rode all the way out here for you to yank my fucking dick?”

  “Did I say that?”

  Rage mounts up my spine, radiating through my shoulders. “I don’t have time for your goddamn games.” I pivot. “Let’s ride.”

  “Wait.”

  I stop.

  Fugi continues. “What Cesar so graciously meant to say was, I have information for you and only you.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” I crease my forehead.

  “Walk with me.”

  Herc places a heavy mitt on my back. “Don’t do it, VP.”

  Troy shakes his long, shaggy hair.

  I glance back at Fugi, who’s standing with his arms wide open. “What’s it gonna be?”

  “No weapons.”

  “Fine.” He agrees, handing his weapon off to Cesar.

  “Frisk him,” I direct Clint. He does, and I allow Thumper to do the same after passing my gun off to Herc.

  I motion for Fugi to lead the way. I follow him down the dirt, walking path that meanders, around the water lined with sand acting as a makeshift beach. I prop myself up on a rickety picnic table and wait on Fugi. The old man tugs on his white whiskers.

  “Did this really have to be so secretive?” I ask.

  “I wouldn’t have deemed it necessary if it weren’t so. Despite what you might think, I don’t sit around thinking of games to fuck with everyone in my spare time. Like I have any fucking spare time.” His gaze drifts to the ground as he lights a Marlboro Red. “You know this club is my life, what’s left of it anyway.”

  “I’m not admitting to anything, but if it were the Executioners, I’m sure as fuck not here to make any apologies for handing club business.”

  “Of course not. And I’m not asking to.” The cigarette dangles from his thin lips as the ash falls to the ground. “How’s your old lady doing? She’s Miller’s daughter, right?”

  “You already know this. What the fuck am I doing here, old man?”

  “Your club is in danger,” Fugi says, matter of factly.

  I stare at him with a void expression, refusing to let my surprise betray me. “Stop horse shitting me. You brought me here to talk about Zombie, now get on with it. You either know where I can find him or not. If I can’t pull the trigger myself, you’re useless to me.”

  He adjusts himself and flicks the filtered butt into the surf. “You have false information and it’s about time someone set the record straight.”

  ***

  If I hadn’t seen it with my own two eyes, I never would have believed it. Not something this fucked up. There was no masking my utter shock. Fugi had seen all my cards at this point. And there no going back. Not now. Not ever. I don’t know if the look on my face deceived me once I got back to the boys or not, but it’s clear that they have their own problems.

  “You lick your sister’s pussy with that mouth?” Thumper snarls.

  Troy leaps, hurling a right hook across the man’s jaw.

  Herc pounces on Cesar.

  Clint attempts to jump between the men.

  “Stand down!” Fugi shouts.

  Everyone freezes as if someone pushed pause on a movie reel.

  “Get your shit and let’s ride,” I instruct my boys then turn back to the Pistol Kings’ President and shake his hand. “I won’t forget this.”

  “That’s the plan.”

  Yeah, I bet it is.

  ***

  We roar across the mountain range in record time, refusing to stop for anything other than gas. I’ve purposefully not checked in with Jolene because I didn’t want to lie to her. But now, I’m worried, realizing she hasn’t called either. That’s not like her. I’ve got a couple of missed calls from Jesse, but that’s easy to blame on
bad service.

  I need time to think. Time to get my shit lined out. What if the intel Fugi had turns out to be true? It’ll be the end of everything as we know it. Every. Fucking. Thing. My entire life will have been a goddamn lie, and no one will be safe. And at what cost? Jolene will never forgive me.

  Jolene.

  What I wouldn’t give to be alone with her right now. Lying in bed. Tangled up in the sweat-soaked sheets after a long night of hardcore sex. The intoxicating scent coming from between her legs leaves me drunk for days. I contemplate ditching the life, throwing her on the back of my sled, and hauling ass across country.

  Who am I kidding? She wouldn’t leave. She’s just as committed to this life as I am. Once you’re in, there’s no getting out. Not alive. Not even if the horror show turns out to be true.

  The boys gather around me as we stop at the first red light coming into town.

  Reno awaits. A shit storm awaits. No doubt, Jesse awaits.

  We hang a left. My chest pounds as I think of seeing Jolene, like a horse nearing water. However, all the bubbling excitement dissipates as I round the corner and immediately spot the rows and rows of yellow police tape directly across the street from Brad’s mansion.

  My stomach plummets.

  I park my bike with trembling hands, ignoring the way my heart feels as if it’s going to explode. Clint calls after me as I race through the front door, shouting.

  “JO!” I draw my weapon and kick over anything in my path.

  I can feel Clint and the others coming up from behind.

  “What the fuck happened here?” Troy whispers.

  I shake my head.

  “Patsy?” Clint calls out as he rushes down the hallway.

  The four of us check every inch of the massive, dark house.

  Empty.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  (Jolene)

  I ball my fists and shake them at my sides. The vein in my temple thumps in sync to my rapid heartbeat. “You can’t be serious?”

  “Little girl, you need to remember who the hell you’re talking to. Now, get your tiny ass on the back of that bike and let’s roll out.”