***
By six a.m. there was still no news. No news on Drew and no news on Stephan. Once more she asked someone to send word to Abraham for a meet, she asked Vat. Typically he would do anything. But even he shut her down.
At seven a.m. a rotation started as to who was babysitting her ass. Vince took first watch as she ignored him and called Dez for the fourth time since the shooting. No new information, she was trying though, she promised.
At eight a.m. Houston arrived back and dragged her back into the apartment where she beat against his chest. Confessed that she was in love with Stephan and had just managed to tell him hours before he was shot. She sobbed into her older brother and was about to make a pointless crack about being the emotional female when she felt his hot tears hit her forehead. He pulled her into the bed and rubbed her back like their father had done when she was little and upset.
At eleven a.m. Destiny awoke from the unintentional nap that Houston had forced her into. She dragged herself into the bar area where Charlie and Tate where half asleep on the couch and recliner. It had been a long night for all. She drank a full cup of coffee and Houston agreed to hit the streets with her after a pit stop at the hospital.
“What if he’s gone? I don’t know how we will pick him up. There hasn’t been even the slightest of bread crumbs.”
“He has spent years with this club. There is little else he knows.” Houston tried to calm her.
“He was plotting to destroy us and we didn’t know! He had a girlfriend that we didn’t know about either!”
“There’s a Hellion chapter outside where he lived in Ohio. We have word out to every biker charter and ally across the country. He will turn up, Destiny, and we will get him. I promise you,” Houston said, taking her hand.
Destiny didn’t ask where her bike was when she got back outside a little while later, but it wasn’t in the lot. So she climbed on the back of Houston’s and they rode to the hospital.
Destiny paused at the doors. She left nearly twelve hours ago with a fire in her belly to kill Drew but here she was, no closer to finding him than the man in the moon. She let Houston lead her around the ER entrance and through the normal doors. Up two floors to critical care and down the hall to the waiting room.
Alec, Kristy, Stella, Vince, and Eric all sat in the small area. Stella stood when they entered and the two women embraced. “What’s the word?”
“Vitals are holding the best they can expect. No improvements as of yet but no worse either. The bullet was lodged against his ribcage but the damage was minimal, all things considering. Missed the lungs by a hair. They expect a full recovery if we can get through the forty-eight hours following the surgery. There is no infection, so that’s promising,” Stella told her.
“When do they expect him to wake up?”
“They have him sedated right now. It’s, it’s easier this way, they said. They aren’t letting anyone back as of right now. Maybe this afternoon or evening. Hopefully.” Stella let her tears fall freely and Destiny made no attempt to mask her own pain.
She swallowed hard and nodded. “Houston,” she said, giving her head a jerk at the door and they left.
Trent stopped them on the way back to the parking lot. “Callaghans!” he called out to them.
“How is he?” he asked once he had jogged over.
“Alive,” Houston said.
“That’s better than not,” Trent replied. He had cleaned himself up, yet looked like he had only slept as much as Destiny had.
“How’s Marissa?” she asked. The deputy’s girlfriend hadn’t crossed her mind since the night before.
“Awake. They expect she can go home in two days or so. Look, we need to talk about Drew.”
“Not happening,” Houston said and brushed past the cop and continued on toward his bike, Destiny following.
“I have reason to believe he didn’t know that Bianca was the confidential informant and that he was, at the very least, just trying to start a war but not turn anyone into the feds,” Trent hissed and both the bikers stopped in their tracks.
Destiny turned around. “What makes you say that?”
“We actually had a witness come forward. An older lady stuck in the ruins of Prideland hates the Pride something fierce. She said it was a white guy who shot down the FBI agent. I showed Drew’s picture. He never would have let Bianca go to a meet knowing damn good and well he was the one who executed the agent.”
“Unless they wanted to know if anyone would come in his steed,” Houston remarked.
“Either way. There is an APB out on him in all of Texas, the border, and in every surrounding state. He isn’t going anywhere. It won’t be the justice you want, Destiny, but he won’t be a free man anymore. I promise you that.”
“Ask them to cover up what the APB is for. He will feel safer if word doesn’t hit the streets that he’s wanted for killing a fed. He’ll slip up,” Destiny told him.
“I’ll do what I can.”
The three of them exchanged a hard look and the siblings departed. Houston drove them to the storage shed. Which she didn’t know what for. He parked his bike, opened the door and inside she saw both her everyday rider she left there the day before and her original bike that she had left behind last night.
Destiny headed for her old Super Glide but Houston stopped her and reached into his pockets and handed her a different set of keys. It was to her father’s bike. Wes’ 1963 Harley Davidson Duo Glide didn’t have the screaming skulls of the Bastards logo that her bikes and her brothers sported. A sleek black paint job outlined in a deep and striking blue that had been their mother’s favorite color. It was his show bike and then his everyday rider.
Destiny had faint memories of riding on it as a girl. Austin had restored it to perfect condition but had only ridden it a handful of times and only once had he toted her along. Destiny had seen Houston ride it once and only once, the day they had Austin’s memorial service and lie what was left of his mortal body in the ground.
Destiny had never driven it.
She looked back at her brother warily.
“It belongs to the both of us. I figured today of all days you needed his strength. Their strength. Dad’s, Mom’s, and Austin’s. It’s the only way I know how to channel them.” Houston shrugged like it was no big deal. But it was. It was the biggest deal and the biggest outreach of love and support Houston had given anyone since Austin’s murder.
Destiny threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. He hugged her back and when they released, she sat astride the bike and fired her up.
The machine still purred like the beautiful beast she was. Destiny put up the kickstand and drove it out of the unit.
Houston had been right. Just the hum of the machine underneath her gave her so much strength, so much power. She could feel Breanna the biker Queen as if she was here with her. Her father and Austin too.
***
Dusk was setting quickly and still no one had anything on Drew. Trent and his badge crew were coming up empty. Ohio and every other crew had zilch to report. Since people in MC lines of work didn’t typically keep their cash in federal monitored banking facilities, Dez hadn’t had any luck pulling credit or debit transactions. The rate that they burnt through burner phones, nothing had come up on Drew’s latest number or the other burner Jay had provided him with as a backup. That didn’t mean he hadn’t picked up a cheap disposable from a gas station to make communication to another unknown associate.
“What now?” Houston asked her as he attempted to force feed her a cheeseburger at a local greasy diner.
“I don’t know how to find him but I doubt he fled. He will be back.”
“What makes you think that?”
“He wants me dead. I killed Bianca and if those texts that Dez had printed us were any indication, he was in love with her. He’ll want the same thing I do, the one who pulled the trigger on the other’s lover dead. He’ll come back, he won’t stop till one of us is dead.”
<
br /> “And if he gets the drop on you again?”
“He won’t. Not this time,” Destiny promised. She pushed the remains of the burger away from her.
“So, you plan to use yourself as bait?”
“Me or Bianca.”
“We have eyes hanging out at the gas station where we met up and Dez has a real-time satellite hacked keeping an eye on her body. No one has turned up. How is she doing that? And what is it costing you?”
Destiny shrugged. “Her brother Donny was in my squad. When shit went shady the day our convoy was busted up, I was the Gunny and he was a replacement just rotated in out of boot camp at Parris Island. It wasn’t supposed to be a combat mission, just a transport. Donny was driving when we started taking gunfire. IEDs weren’t set because they wanted the supplies we were hauling. There were three trucks hauling supplies and a Jeep ahead in case shit when sideways. Most of us were green—only two of the eight had seen combat. Well, Corps combat. Donny froze, I didn’t, this life prepared better than training, for gunfire and return.
“I got Donny out of there when the helo came in for us twelve minutes after we placed the call, just seconds after first fire. He and two others got out in one piece. Two others beside me took heavy hits. The other two boys didn’t make it back. They say it was fifteen or so insurgents but I never looked into it or questioned it, I was too busy trying to get back to the Middle East, and then when my medical discharge was handed to me it didn’t matter anymore. When I met Dez in Bethesda not long after I got stateside, she said she owed me big. I’ve paid cash for small things before but she assured me everything to find Drew was trade. His life for Donny’s.”
“That’s the most you ever said about the war.”
“Not exactly my favorite subject, Houston.”
“If Bianca’s remains out there in the scorching heat can’t call him back, do you think you can?”
“Of course I can.” Destiny paused. “He’s in Prideland. It’s the only place he would feel safe right now.”
“That’s why you want to talk to Abraham?”
“I want a sit down arranged on neutral ground, just me and him.”
“Not going to happen.”
“Fine. Us two and him and a lieutenant of his. You have the connections to reach out. Do it, Houston.”
Houston didn’t say anything but he tossed a few bills on the table to pay the tab and walked out, phone to his ear.
31
It was seven o’clock that night and there was no real change at the hospital. No infection, a slight uptick in his vitals, but nothing that was worth them pulling him off of his sedatives for. The doctors wouldn’t clear him out of the woods yet and Destiny wouldn’t consider Stephan safe until he was awake and in her arms again.
“This is the dumbest thing you have ever done,” Houston muttered as they stood next to their bikes and watched for the black SUV that would mean that Abraham was arriving. The meet was set for an abandoned warehouse that was set out of Apache and Pride territory but had no ties to the Bastards.
“You have done stupider, big brother.”
“But never you, little sister.”
“My conscience is a little preoccupied with his survival currently. But I’ll let him know he should have been focused on keeping me reined in.”
The SUV appeared and Houston went to alert stance. Destiny stayed leaned against the handlebars of her father’s bike. It parked at an angle so as not to blind the two of them and start the meeting off on a bad foot. Destiny hated blacked-out tint. Made it hard to determine if they were equally matched or if another gangbanger with a gun laid in wait.
“Callaghans,” Abraham said, stepping out of the passenger seat. His right hand slid out behind the driver’s seat and Houston nodded to the SUV.
“That all you brought?” he asked the Pride leader.
Abraham turned to his driver. “Open it.”
The driver opened the side door that faced them and then the back hatch. Houston stepped around and verified it was empty so the gangster closed the doors.
“What can I help you with, Destiny? You seem to be coming to me a lot this week.”
“It’s in both of our best interests, Abraham. I’m looking for a patch gone rogue.”
“That seems to be happening quite a bit with you lately.”
“Pussy can destroy any man, I suppose,” Destiny said, righting herself and taking a step closer to him. “Pussy you have been housing. Bianca Martinez?”
“That bitch is still alive?”
“Not anymore,” Houston answered.
“We thought she was the one wanting to stir up all the trouble between the three players. You, the Apache, and us. Apparently, she hates us all equally,” Destiny added.
“Wants us to wipe each other out,” the lieutenant spoke up.
“Yes, and it’s not something I am too interested in doing. Both sides lost too much the last time. We both lost a lot, Abraham. I won’t fight again.
“Bianca’s old man must have told her that we had no intention of going guns a’ blazin’ unless absolutely forced to. So she turned CI with a FBI agent and started leaking any information she could get. Our hands have been reasonably clean lately, but the Prides? Your drug line can dry up quick if they made a case. When the drugs dry up, the money does too,” Destiny said and watched the glance that the lieutenant threw to his boss. Abraham wasn’t stupid but he wouldn’t see the holes in the story she would feed him.
“That fed is dead,” Abraham told her.
“Yes, but he had records and the badges are going to rain hard on the Pride. He was killed in the Prideland and his case was centered around you.”
“So what did you come here to trade for?” Abraham asked.
“I want Drew Allistar. I know he’s hiding out in your territory. He thinks he’s safe there. Deliver him to me alive and once he’s dead I’ll hang him out to dry for the fed murder and get him off your back.”
“And if they try to tie in the rest of the Bastards?” Abraham asked.
Destiny just grinned. Abraham ran his hand over his head. “Give me two hours. I’ll be in touch.”
They climbed back in the SUV and drove off.
“Drew is associated with the club. Won’t look good for a club member to be killing feds,” Houston told her.
“They already have a witness, they know it’s him and there isn’t a damn thing we can do about that. Completely wipe his memory from the charter history. Get everyone on board. He hasn’t been picked up for anything ever. The system has no documentation of his ink, and there will be no ink left on him that associates him to us. By the time Trent finds his body, there will be no evidence of who killed him or his association to us.”
***
Neither Houston nor Destiny told any of their club members that they had asked for Abraham’s help or that she fudged a few details to get him to agree to the deal. It would come out eventually, but it wasn’t worth the fight now.
They arrived back to the clubhouse with half the crew standing outside when she pulled up on her father’s bike. They all stared but no one said a thing or raised an eyebrow. If they weren’t sure she was serious before, there was no doubting it now.
She took a knife sharpener down from a shelf that held miscellaneous odds and ends crap and sat down at a table in the far corner of the bar room. She pulled a large Bowie out of its sheath on her side and dragged it over the stone.
Over and over again, the metal scraped the stone, slowly creating an even sharper edge on an already perfectly fine blade. It would be a slower death if it was dull, that was true, but even Destiny’s stubborn confidence wouldn’t let her go to hand to hand battle with a man who had forty pounds on her with lower than perfect standard weapons.
This would be hand to hand. There would be no guns. Nothing else. She had told her brothers her blade would taste Drew’s blood. She intended to drain all of the life from him.
There was thirty minutes left to the two-hour
limit she had given the Pride leader when Houston got the call. They would all ride to the edge of Prideland to the garage where he was now holding Drew. Only she would enter. Only one would walk out. It was the way she forced Houston to see it.
She pulled her long hair back and twisted it up, tightly securing it with a tie as she made her way to the door. She put her helmet on and straddled her bike. As she fired up her dad’s Harley, the deafening sound of her family doing the same surrounded her.
Alec, Houston, Bryant, Jay, Charlie, Vince, Vat, and Tate. Tonight, Alec didn’t lead the ride out. She did while he and Houston stayed one step back and on her flanks.
They arrived at the garage and met the sea of black and orange uniforms that made up the Pride gangsters. This was one of the few civil meetings they had ever had and Destiny had warned them it better stay that way. As they dismounted their bikes, she walked to the lieutenant that had accompanied their leader earlier.
“Your man’s inside. Abraham is with him.”
The door opened and Abraham walked out, followed by his father. Destiny’s blood boiled and she could sense Houston shift at her back. She held up her hand in halting them.
“Let me guess.” She turned to the Preacher. “An eye for an eye? A life for a life?”
“Bloodshed on either side has happened. But I have trusted my family to my son’s hands and he has agreed to your terms. I will let whatever happens here tonight be part of a judgment day for you and Allistar,” the old gangster said in a raspy voice of faded authority. Under the damned collar he unjustly wore was a bandage. The Preacher had throat cancer, by the looks of it. He was dying.
“He’s tied to the support pole with zip ties. He’s not getting loose,” Abraham told her. “There is no one else in there. On my father’s life, I swear it.”
Destiny turned to her brother. “Your knife.”
Houston met her eyes. They were stone cold and she felt as if she were looking in a mirror. “Dallas.”
“Knife, Houston.”
Her brother pulled on his belt sheath, same as hers, as another bike joined the party. She looked up to see Eric coming to join the party. She gave him a curt nod and he returned it. He came to see Drew dead. And she would give him that.
The Devils Bastards MC: Destiny Dallas Callaghan Page 23
