Bounty

by Aubrey St. Clair

  “What’s up, boys,” Bash says as he approaches his crew. His voice doesn’t betray any of the range of emotions I know he’s feeling right now. But his eyes are fixed on Ripper specifically, like a lion eyeing a hungry hyena that he expects to attack at any time.

  “Right on time,” Ripper says, his voice loud over the sound of the jukebox in the corner playing the Stones. There aren’t a lot of non-club customers in the bar on this Wednesday night, but what few there are have seated themselves as far from the bikers as possible and are making a concentrated effort to not pay any attention to the congregation around the pool table. “I was just telling everyone here about how you had an announcement to make.”

  Next to Ripper, leaning against the polished wood of the table, was Snake. He was watching Bash as well, but his expression was hard to read without knowing him. Bash mentioned that he wasn’t sure if Snake was part of all of this, but he doesn’t seem to be doing anything to stop it, either.

  I can see the muscles in the side of Bash’s face tighten as he grinds his teeth. A quick glance down at his hands confirms he’s ready to punch the shit out of Ripper. Instead, he pauses for a moment and then says, “Right, sure. I wanted to have a chat with you first, though. In my office.”

  The smile on Ripper’s face drops, replaced with one of concern. His eyes flit down to Bash’s hands and he sees the same clenched fists I saw. Likely draws the same conclusion as well, because he looks quickly over to Snake.

  “Snake comes, too,” he says quickly.

  Some of the other MC members exchange looks, but then everyone seems to return to their own conversations or beers as Snake and Ripper head to the back door that leads to the MC offices.

  “Did you want me to stay here?” I ask.

  “No, you can come. There are no more secrets between us.”

  Given the circumstances, I keep myself from smiling at his response, and just nod instead as I follow the leather-clad men to Bash’s office. As soon as he shuts the door, he let’s go of his emotional restraints.

  “What the fuck is this bullshit? What announcement are you talking about?”

  Ripper has regained some of his earlier confidence now that he has Snake next to him, and likely at seeing me there as well. Not that I would stop Bash from giving him the pounding he deserves. He smiles again, just as unsettlingly as before.

  “Why, the announcement that you’re stepping down from the club. That you’re leaving to pursue other interests, or whatever. I don’t care how the fuck you want to explain it, but I think I was pretty fucking clear on Monday that your time here is done. Unless you want all of those pictures to get passed around the pool table out there?”

  “Just what is it that you think you have pictures of? Me in a suit? Is that a club crime, all of a sudden?”

  Ripper laughs. “You know that isn’t all it is. I know you have another job. Some corporate bullshit. You’re a fucking sell-out.”

  I look over at Bash, but his face has become calm again. I know that’s him reigning in his emotions so as to not give anything away, but I can’t imagine he isn’t worried. I don’t have the same control as he does, so I keep looking at him just in case Ripper can read something in my own face.

  “What company? What proof do you have of that?”

  “I don’t need proof. I know what I know. Snake here knows all about it, too.”

  “You’re gonna need proof if you want to bring this to the club.” Bash’s eyes shift to Snake now. “So you’re in on this, too? You two are working together now? Was your fight the other night all just an act?”

  Snake looks over at Ripper, who is nodding at the vice president. He slowly turns back to face Bash. “Ripper showed me the pics and… told me about the company stuff, as well.”

  “Where’s the proof? Show me.”

  “We can get it, but what’s the point?” Ripper snarls. “Do you really want to go through all of that? Drag yourself through the mud in front of the club? Why don’t we just get this over with now, quietly? Then you can tell the club whatever the fuck you want.”

  Before Bash can answer, Snake cuts in. “No. He’s had his chance. Let’s get the proof. A few more days won’t hurt.”

  Ripper looks at the VP and cocks his head, as if considering that. Finally he nods with a shrug. “You know what, you’re right, Snake. Bash here has had forty-eight hours. That was already overly generous on my part. If he wants to make this dirty, we can make it dirty. Your time is up. We’ll get the proof and take it directly to the club. You’re finished here. No more trying to turn this club into a bunch of fucking pussies with real jobs. Just ‘cause you’re a fucking sell-out doesn’t mean you can drag the rest of us down with you.”

  With that, he yanks open the door. “Come on, Snake. We have some calls to make. I want to get this done as soon as possible.” His pace is fast as he strides down the hall, and I wonder if he’s trying to put as much distance as he can from Bash before he reconsiders using his fists. Snake doesn’t move, though, and Bash is glaring right at him.

  Suddenly, my cell phone rings, causing both men to turn to me, as if just remembering that I was here.

  “Sorry,” I mutter, fishing it out of my small purse. It’s the office. Why would they be calling me? I’m Sebastian’s assistant and rarely work with anyone else. Normally I would just click to ignore it, but then I remember that Bash doesn’t have his cell with him. They are probably calling me because they can’t reach him, which means it could be important. I step into the doorway and click the button to take the call. Both men have turned back away from me.

  “What the fuck is this, Snake?” Bash demands. I really want to hear that conversation.

  “Hello?” I say as quietly as possible into my handset.

  “Evelyn? It’s Beverly. I’m trying to reach Sebastian.” As I suspected, although my attention is split between the conversation between the men, so I don’t answer right away.

  “I tried to call you,” Snake says.

  “To tell me that you were about to stab me in the fucking back?” Bash responds angrily. He makes a move toward Snake, and his VP steps back automatically.

  “Do you have any idea where he is? It’s an emergency.” Beverly asks in my ear when I don’t say anything. That brings my focus back to my phone.

  “An emergency? What’s wrong?” My voice is louder than I meant it to be, and both Bash and Snake turn to look at me.

  “We need him in the office right away. Hans has called an emergency board meeting. Everyone is already starting to arrive, but I couldn’t reach Sebastian—”

  “What’s going on?” I cut her off.

  “I don’t know, but it’s very important.” Her voice suddenly drops to a whisper. “And I don’t think it’s good news, either. Something big is going on—”

  I quickly end the call and look over at Bash. “We have to go,” I say. “Now.”

  22

  Sebastian

  Evelyn’s arms have a death grip around my waist as I gun the engine of my bike, whipping through the streets of downtown Chicago on our way back to Piston. I’ll have to stash my bike in the back and leave my jacket behind, but it shouldn’t seem too out of the ordinary that we’re in street clothes. It is after nine on a Wednesday night, after all, and if the rest of the board are already arriving, I don’t have time to stop at home to change.

  My teeth are aching from being clenched the entire ride. I have no idea what’s waiting for me, but it can’t be good, and I’m still steaming from my meeting with Snake and Ripper. I suspected that Snake might have something to do with it, but I really hoped he didn’t. He’s been my right hand since I became president, and although I knew he wasn’t thrilled with the changes, I thought he’d at least have my back. He must really hate me if he’s willing to work with Ripper.

  He wanted me to stay back and talk to him, but I’ve heard enough. Whatever is going on at Piston is more important than hearing his excuses about how we’re an MC and stirring
shit up is in our blood. I’m done trying to keep these fucks out of prison. Regardless of how things turn out, if they want to continue to be outlaws, so be it. Maybe stepping down is the right call, after all, if they all feel like Ripper and Snake. I’m not sure how many of the members support them, but if Snake is on board, then it’s probably a majority. I can’t imagine he’d stab me in the back just to stand alone with his fucking arch nemesis.

  I pull my bike around the mostly empty parking lot of Piston and kill the motor before almost having to pry Evelyn’s fingers apart. She’s still not used to riding, and she’s never ridden like that. But she should get used to it if she wants to ride with me. Bikes are made to be ridden fast.

  We don’t say much on the ride up to the boardroom, the elevator floor chimes the only noise breaking the silence. It isn’t until we’re standing in front of the boardroom door that I even look over at her. She’s watching me intently.

  “You okay?” she asks.

  I nod. “You’re going to have to wait out here. Board meetings are kept to members only, but I’ll fill you in as soon as it’s done.” I lean forward and kiss her, harder than I mean to, but she returns it with just as much feeling. Finally, I pull away and fling open the door, striding through to a packed room. Seems like Hans was able to rally everyone. Maybe the Velocity deal is officially dead and they want to figure out how to save the quarter?

  The room is full, and every eye turns to me as I walk through. No one looks happy, which means the news is bad and Hans didn’t wait for me to start, which he should have. When I look up at him, he turns his gaze away quickly. Also not a good sign.

  “All right, it looks like I’m late and you guys have already started,” I say immediately. “So, why doesn’t someone fill me in on what’s going on. Hans? What happened in Germany? Not good news, I take it?”

  Hans shifts in his seat, straightening some papers before clearing his throat and finally meeting my gaze. There’s a strange look on his face but it passes quickly as he starts to talk. “No, I’m afraid not. The parts aren’t going to be ready for another month, but it doesn’t matter anyway. The Velocity deal is dead. They called sales this afternoon and exercised their option to pull out on delivery delay.”

  “It was my understanding that the delivery wasn’t due until this week. How did they know there was going to be a delay?”

  “We had already alerted them that we weren’t going to make the deadline last week when it was clear we weren’t going to get the parts in time. We told them the delay would be minor, and it seemed like they were fine with waiting. Looks like they changed their mind.”

  Or they somehow found out that the delay wasn’t going to be a few days. “Technically, they can’t pull out until Friday, then,” I say, although I know it doesn’t matter. It’s a blow to lose that contract, and it means not making our numbers this quarter, but it’s hardly a death blow to the company. We can recover after the share price dip that we’ll see once the news hits the Street. Hardly a reason for this emergency, night time board meeting.

  “Technically, true. They’re aware of that, but even if the parts landed in the factory tonight, we wouldn’t make Friday. So the deal is effectively dead.”

  “So since the deal is unsalvageable, why couldn’t this news wait until tomorrow during working hours?” I’m annoyed now at being pulled away from the club business now to hear this. All it means is another thing to weigh on my mind tonight.

  “That’s not why we’re here,” Hans replies. He drops his eyes down again to stare at the papers under his fingers. “There is a more pressing issue. One that needed immediate board attention.”

  I’m silent as I wait for him to go on. It seems like most of the board are avoiding my gaze now, as well.

  When I don’t say anything, he continues. “Beginning this morning, our shares began being aggressively acquired by an unknown buyer. I’ve spend the evening fielding calls from some of our larger investors and institutions that have had offers for their shares as well. Some of them have sold, others are waiting to see what comes of this.”

  This time, my silence is because my head is spinning. Someone is buying up shares of Piston. There’s only one reason I can think of that someone would do that.

  “It looks like we’re about to be part of a hostile takeover.” Jim Burton, a board member that has been with us from the beginning, states the obvious.

  “By who?” I finally spit out.

  “We’re still unsure,” says Hans. “The buyers have been through subsidiaries, multiple shell corps, but obviously all being controlled by a single corporation. One of our competitors, most likely. The problem is that although we might have normally been able to fight this off, when the news of the loss of Velocity hits, we’ll be under a lot of pressure from the Street to give in. The share price being offered now will almost certainly be a lot higher than it would be once we drop on our quarter miss.”

  “It’s just bad timing,” adds Jim.

  I shoot a glare at Captain Obvious, whose graying hair and deep lines prove the years he’s spent in the industry. “What a coincidence,” I say dryly. Something seems fishy here, but the way Jim is looking back at me it’s clear he’s completely oblivious.

  “All right, fine.” I look around the room at the men at the table. Some of them have been here since the beginning, and others were brought on by Hans when we decided to go public. I was fairly sure I could trust the ones that have been here since the start since I handpicked them, but I’m not entirely sure of the motives that drive some of the guys that Hans brought in. Time to figure that out.

  “So we fight this, then. He’ll need a majority stake to take control. I’m the largest single shareholder, and obviously I’ll vote my shares to stop him. Hans, you hold a fairly large stake, and many of you on the board do, as well. We just need to figure out the percentages and then make some phone calls to some of our other larger stakeholders. Some of the institutions. Assure them that we can do better on our own, and that this deal was just a minor blip that shouldn’t cause panic.”

  Jim is nodding, but some of the other guys are looking around uncomfortably. Hans’ lips are pursed.

  “What?” I ask.

  He pauses for a minute, and then let’s out a breath. “Sebastian, I think we ought to at least consider what is in the best interest of the company.”

  “What?!” Every eye in the room snaps to me now. “Are you honestly suggesting that we lay down and let someone take over this company? My company?”

  Hans raises his hands, as if to fend me off. I’m not leaping across the table to throttle him yet, but he’s right to be concerned. “Just hear me out for a minute. I’m not saying we should, just that we need to think about each scenario carefully so that whatever decision the board makes is the right one for everyone. There are pros and cons to both options, here.”

  “Let me guess, the pro to getting taken over is that everyone gets rich?”

  “Is that such a bad pro?” The question comes from Carmine Fisher. One of the men that Hans brought in. It doesn’t surprise me, coming from him. Carmine has held a lot of board seats in the past, one of the reasons that Hans recommended him, but after hiring him, I did my due diligence a bit late and realized that the reason that he has had so many seats is that his past companies had a higher than average rate of being bought out or taken over. I’ve always suspected that he favors those options as a quick payday.

  “Think about it,” he drawls, the corners of his lips being pulled into a smile that he’s fighting hard to suppress under my own glare. “Buying all of these shares is only going to drive the price up. Buying all of yours would likely demand an even heavier premium. With the number of shares you own, that could be hundreds of millions of dollars, Sebastian. You could be a very rich man, overnight.”

  “I’m already a rich man,” I spit back, unimpressed with his argument.

  “On paper, for the most part. But if the takeover falls through and then we an
nounce a missed quarter, those shares will tank. You’ll lose most of that.”

  “On paper,” I counter with his own argument. “Nothing is worth anything until you sell. And I’m not selling. I’m not in this for the money. I built this company from the ground up, and I have no intention of letting it go without a fight.”

  That surprises me even as I say it. Not long ago, I would’ve been totally fine with this development. Or at least, that’s what I’ve been telling myself, and Evelyn—that Piston comes second to the club. But shit, if things with the club end up going sour after all… what do I have left but this? Or maybe it’s mattered to me all along, and it just took almost losing it for me to see it.

  Like it did with Evelyn.

  “You may not have the votes with which to fight,” Carmine replies.

  “I can get them.” My fists are clenched, and I have to remind myself that I’m in the boardroom and not the clubhouse in order to get them to relax and open up.

  “All right, all right, let’s calm down,” Hans says. “We don’t need to vote now, so let’s all just take some time to let this all sink in for the night. We can meet again in the morning. In the meantime, maybe we can all reach out to our contacts and get a feel for what institutions are thinking, or maybe even see if we can figure out who is behind all of this. That may give us a better perspective. Sebastian, I asked Beverly to leave a copy of all of these documents in a box in your office. I’ll assume you’ll want to take a look at them tonight.”

  I nod and turn away without another word. I don’t want to escalate this any further. Hans is right; I need time to process this and look through the documents before deciding my next move. It’s likely to be a long night.

  When I throw open the door to the conference room, Evelyn is still standing there with her back against the opposite wall. Her face is concerned. I’m sure she could hear the yelling, if not the actual words.

  “Come on,” I say with a swing of my neck. We’ll get the documents and then just take them back to my place. No reason for us to stay in the office all night. I assume Evelyn is going to want to help go through them. The fact that I’m sure that she would without even needing to ask her makes me feel a little bit better. Well enough to finally talk as we enter my office and close the door behind us. The box of papers are sitting on the floor next to my desk.