PIECES LOST (A Devil Call MC Book) (Talon & Everly Book Two) (Devil Call MC - Talon & Everly 2)

by Ana W. Fawkes

  He froze for a second.

  “All of it,” Layne said.

  Hollis then dropped his pants. He stepped out of his boots and pants. All that was left was a pair of black boxers to finish the job. I wasn’t sure if Layne was going to go through with it. But he did. He gave a nod to Hollis and Hollis dropped his boxers. He then stood there, butt naked.

  “Little cold in here, Hollis?” Buzzy called out.

  The table broke out in laughter.

  “Fuck you,” Hollis said.

  “Put your arms out,” Layne said.

  Hollis did. “There. Look. I don’t have anything, man. I’m not high. There’s no fucking drugs. I swear on it.”

  Layne put a hand on Hollis’s neck. He then crept close, eerily close.

  “We’re not done yet, Hollis,” Layne said. He pushed at Hollis’s neck and backed up. He set his sights to the table. “I’m not fucking accepting this.” Then Layne looked at me. “We’re not accepting this. Myself and Talon. That fucking patch is on the middle of the table. I get that. You may feel like you don’t have a President to guide you all, but use your fucking heads for a second.”

  Layne walked to the door and opened it. He whistled and one of the prospects from out front came walking into the room. I wondered what the hell Layne was doing. Then Layne reached into his back pocket and pulled out a rubber glove.

  No fucking way…

  “Earn your patch, boy,” Layne said. He addressed the table. “This is what’s going to happen to any of you if Talon or myself feels you’re out of line. Drugs. Debts. Just being a fucking asshole. It stops now.”

  Layne shoved the prospect. He stumbled and walked to Hollis.

  “What the fuck is this?” Hollis asked. “No way, Layne. No way.”

  “Shut up,” Layne said. “Hands on the table, legs spread.”

  “Holy shit,” Austin said.

  “He’s right,” I said, finally giving my thoughts on this. “Guys on the inside hid a lot of stuff up their ass. You never know. And considering Hollis has been high twice… and almost fucking hurt someone…”

  “Jesus Christ!” Hollis cried out.

  “Do it!” Layne bellowed at the prospect.

  The prospect put a hand to Hollis’s left shoulder. His right hand disappeared, but the facial expressions on Hollis told me exactly when the prospect entered Hollis.

  “Get your hand off my fucking shoulder,” Hollis yelled.

  The entire table broke out in laughter. I couldn’t contain my own smile.

  Layne then pulled out a small flashlight and handed it to the prospect. “Get down there and check.”

  “Fuck,” Hollis said. “Come on, man.”

  The prospect did as told. Hollis squeezed his eyes shut. His hands were shaking as they lay flat on the table.

  “This has been a good meeting,” I said. “Hope everyone thinks long and hard about this. We have enemies out there. Ready to attack us. Ready to fucking kill us. Christ, I was attacked in prison, again and again. I have a scar on the back of my neck to remind me how close I came to fucking dying. Now I’m out. I’m right here. I fucking killed Tommy. That death is on my hands. That’s my… guilt…” I looked at Layne. “I’ll carry whatever weight comes with it. But out there, the enemies are fucking real. And they’re pissed that I’m alive and I’m out.”

  Hollis let out a whimper.

  “Okay, that’s enough,” Layne said. “Christ, you go any deeper and you’ll have to buy him dinner.”

  Everyone laughed, even the prospect. He stood back up. Hollis threw an elbow and knocked the prospect back against the wall. Layne jumped out of the way. The prospect went down on his ass. Hollis turned and made a fist. The prospect put his hand up - his gloved hand - and Hollis stopped dead.

  “Motherfucker,” he growled. “I’ll get you for this.”

  “Lesson learned,” Layne said. He looked to the prospect. “Go clean yourself up, boy. We’ll talk about patching you in.”

  The prospect got to his feet and smiled. “Thank you. So much. Sir. Thank you.”

  I ignored everything happening. “I want to know everything that’s happening right now. Who is out there. What they’re doing. And I want to know what we can do about it. I’m not going to be fucking…”

  I was going to say something about being surprised. But that was rendered useless.

  Another fucking shot rang out in the clubhouse.

  I looked at Layne. Layne looked at me. My guess was that we both had the same shocked and pissed off look on our faces.

  8.

  (Talon)

  I rushed to the door before anyone else could get there. When I opened it, I expected to see one of the guys on the floor, bleeding out. Instead, all the guys were backed up, guns drawn. Some had lit cigarettes hanging from their mouths. They were ready for war.

  The rush going through my body was something like a high. I pulled out my gun and watched as the clubhouse door swung open. The door handle had been blown the fuck off.

  When the figure came through the door, a shotgun resting on his shoulder, chewing on a toothpick, a pair of dickhead sunglasses on his face, I really wanted to pull the trigger. Fuck that, I wanted to unload the clip on the asshole staring at me.

  But something told me that killing a detective would only cause even bigger problems for the club.

  “Good afternoon, fuckers.”

  I curled my lip. My nostril flared. I lowered my weapon and pointed to everyone in the clubhouse. They all did the same. The silence in the clubhouse was intense and uncomfortable.

  “Oh, look at me… I guess I should introduce myself. You know, legally.” He reached for a badge and showed it. “My name is Detective John Linike.”

  Hearing that name again sent chills down my back.

  Layne stepped next to me and pointed to the busted up door. “Couldn’t have knocked?”

  “That? Fuck that. Why knock? After all, I’m alone here. I’m more known for making an entrance. Wouldn’t you agree… Talon?”

  I gritted my teeth. It took more might than I knew I had not to rush at Detective John and take him down. If I got into a one on one fight with him, I’d have him beat in a second. But I wouldn’t stop. Not with him. I’d keep going, just like I had done with Gabel. The difference… I’d kill Detective John. And nobody would be able to stop me.

  Detective John stared me down. “How are you doing, Talon? I heard that you had gotten out of prison. I figured it would have been in a body bag. I was waiting for the parade of motorcycles to roll through town. Everyone wearing black. Everyone looking somber and saddened by the loss of their dear friend. But imagine my surprise when I found out you walked from prison. Alive. Unscathed. Ready to regain the helm of Devil Call MC. Right?”

  I slowly touched my leather cut. “In case you haven’t noticed, there’s no patch here. No President.”

  “How tragic,” Detective John said. He looked at Layne. He smiled. “You don’t have one either. Am I dared to believe that Devil Call MC could exist without a President? Isn't that kind of taboo for your kind of life? I mean, even the lowest pieces of shit criminals and animals in the world have someone to report to.”

  “What do you want?” Layne asked.

  “Just had to come and see Talon,” Detective John said.

  He slid the shotgun off his shoulder and held it at his waist, pointed right at me. He reached up and took his sunglasses off. He tucked them into his shirt. I was now staring at the darkest set of eyes I’d ever seen.

  “You really made it,” he said to me.

  “Alive and well,” I said. “Like I would accept anything less.”

  Detective John laughed. He reached up and took the toothpick out of his mouth. “That’s funny. That’s good. You’re funny, Talon. You were always funny.”

  I felt my lip curl and I stepped forward. Layne grabbed my arm and stopped me.

  Detective John looked down at the shotgun. “Yeah, keep walking toward me. I’ll blow your
stomach through the back wall, asshole.” He then smiled and flicked the toothpick to the ground. “Just came from Andy’s. Right down on the corner. Man, do they make a turkey club. Fucking thing is about ten feet high. Christ, they must have put an entire turkey on the sandwich.”

  “That’s great,” I said. “I’ll take my woman there next time we’re hungry.”

  “Woman, huh? Poor thing.”

  “Look, man,” Kade said. “We’re busy here.”

  “Busy,” Detective John said. “I get that. Planning the next murder. The next crew to pick a fight with. I get that. Yeah, I do.”

  Detective John lifted the shotgun so that the barrel was pointed right at his face. He squinted with one eye and looked down the barrel. One slip of his finger and his brains would be splattered all over the ceiling.

  Fuck, I hated this guy so much.

  “The reason I came here was to talk murder,” Detective John said. “Not just an old murder, but one that really caught my attention. There was a car discovered in an empty parking lot. Window smashed in. Blood on the ground. Really scary shit. Especially for this peaceful little shit town.”

  He was talking about Tommy. I didn’t clean the scene up all the way. The body was gone, for now at least. But even then, I didn’t give a fuck. Tommy was a piece of shit. Fuck him.

  Why did the guilt bother me though?

  “Normally that kind of shit doesn’t do much for me,” Detective John said. “Normal gangs and assholes taking each other out. I made my career off that shit a long time ago.” He looked at me and winked. “Now I get to enjoy turkey clubs and wait for the big ones to come in.”

  “Is this a big one?” I asked.

  “Oh yeah. Big one. You see, I looked at it. The murder didn’t make sense to me. It had a deeper meaning. The guy, Tommy, was selling some weird shit out of the trunk of his car. The second I checked on his name, I popped wood. No lie. Whoever killed Tommy either wanted to start a war or didn’t know who he was.”

  “Who he was?” I asked.

  “You seem to have an interest here.”

  “You’re in my fucking clubhouse,” I said. “You’re spouting shit at me. I’m just trying to be respectful and listen.”

  Detective John laughed. “Well, Tommy is part of something much bigger. He was selling sex stuff out of the trunk of his car, but he had plenty other to sell. His apartment… stacked floor to ceiling with all kinds of goodies. Any kind of drug you could imagine. This… is a big one, Talon.”

  My heart was racing. The guilt of killing Tommy was now turning into anger. Maybe even a little regret. The last thing the club needed was a war that involved drug dealers. This was bad.

  “So what happens next?” I asked. “Did you come to arrest me?”

  “Are you confessing to anything?”

  “Not a thing,” I said.

  “Good. See, in my line of work, I look for the obvious. I hope the asshole who did it really was acting in a rush or out of emotion… or they were a little rusty. Maybe from spending some time behind bars.” Detective John smiled at me again. “I looked at the building and saw the security cameras.”

  “Security cameras?” Layne asked.

  “Sure,” Detective John said. “They all have cameras. And a lot of them are still active. Funded by the local police departments. Just in case something bad happens in one of those empty lots.”

  Yeah, now I was about to be fucked. Hard. My mind didn’t even think of cameras. And why would it? The place was empty. The buildings were old and beat up. Fuck, things had changed since I went to prison. These were the kinds of things that a good President would have kept up on.

  I looked at Layne and felt like knocking his fucking jaw off his mouth.

  “The first thing I did was request the security tapes,” Detective John said. “That would have opened the case for me right there. I’d have the murderer on tape. Then I could bring him in and start to unfold this wild drug thing going on.”

  “That seems very confident,” I said. “Makes me wonder what you’re doing here then.”

  “You know why the fuck I’m here,” Detective John yelled. He came at me, shotgun pointed at me. The barrel of the gun was against my gut. “You know why I’m here.”

  “If you’re going to make accusations,” I said, “you better have some damn good evidence. Why the hell would I get out of prison and go on a killing spree?”

  “You like to kill,” Detective John said, with a grin. He looked at Layne. “Doesn’t he?”

  That’s when Layne turned and walked away from me. He left me hanging there. High and fucking dry. No matter our past and no matter the bullshit right now, Layne shouldn’t have walked away. That only showed and proved weakness within the MC. What a dick move, especially after what he just did at the table.

  “Look, I’ve got things to do today,” I said. “If we could wrap this up…”

  “The fucking tapes were missing,” Detective John said. “You believe that? The fucking tapes were missing. It was just way too convenient for me to let it go. Now, I had a couple choices, you see. One, I could blast through this clubhouse and tear the fucking thing apart. Top to bottom. Find the tapes that you stole, Talon.”

  “I didn’t take any fucking tapes.”

  “Or,” Detective John said as he pushed the barrel of the gun harder into my gut. “Or I could leave it up to a little thing called fate.”

  “Fate? Seriously?”

  “It’s simple. If you didn’t take those tapes, Talon, then someone else did. Someone else who didn’t want me to see that murder. Someone who is probably really pissed off that Tommy is dead. Someone who doesn’t want the justice system to get in their way. Now, who does that sound like?”

  Detective John backed up a few steps.

  There was nothing else to say.

  My little fuck up with Tommy was becoming a big fucking disaster.

  “Get out of here,” I said. “If you’re not going to arrest me…”

  “Oh, I’m making an arrest.” Detective John pulled a piece of paper out of the back of his pants. “Where’s the piece of shit you all call Hollis?”

  “I’m right here…”

  Hollis was walking out of the meeting room. He was putting on his shirt and fixing his jeans.

  “What the fuck do you guys do in that room?” Detective John asked. “You know… don’t answer.” He pointed his shotgun at Hollis. “Hey, you, Hollis. Get over here, asshole. I’m arresting you.”

  “What the fuck for?” Hollis asked.

  “Drug possession. Paraphernalia. Intent to distribute. Should I go on?”

  “What the fuck,” I growled.

  “There was another video,” Detective John asked. “One of your friend here buying a shitload of drugs. He’s going bye-bye for now.”

  I looked at Hollis and wanted to punch him. What a fucking moron.

  “Let’s go,” Detective John said. He cuffed Hollis and swung him around toward the busted clubhouse door. He shoved Hollis out the clubhouse. He looked back at me and put sunglasses on his face. “Don’t worry, Talon, I’ll be back. It won’t be like before. You and I… we’re going to see a lot of each other.”

  Detective John left the clubhouse.

  It was silent.

  So fucking silent.

  The way my heart and mind felt… if I closed my eyes, I would have felt like I was right back in prison.

  9.

  (Everly)

  I heard everything. I saw most of everything. Yet I managed to hide in the hallway of the clubhouse. When Layne stepped away from Talon, I knew things were going to be changing again. For a second I thought that maybe they were going to work their personal issues out.

  But how could they? How could they if Talon really killed Layne’s girlfriend?

  More than that, I realized something darker.

  That detective had been talking about security tapes. Footage from the parking lot where Talon had killed Tommy. The footage obviously show
ed the truth. Talon walking up to the car. Busting the window out. Pulling Tommy from the car. Then killing him. If that wasn’t bad enough, I was there.

  I was fucking there with Talon.

  I was on the tapes.

  I backed into the hallway, appreciating its darkness. My mind slipped away and I thought about what had brought me here. I was just a lonely woman on the run. Trying to escape from everything I knew as life. Family and friends were nothing to me. I was the outcast in life. I was the bad seed. I was always wrong. Which was fine.

  But I didn’t mean to stumble upon Layne getting ready to kill someone. I didn’t mean to stare at him, captured by his size and his hottness. The last few strands of innocence in me then thought it would be cool - maybe fun - to get picked up by a biker.

  That was when Layne blew that guy’s head off and took me.

  He told me I was in danger. He brought me to the clubhouse and instead of fucking me, he apologized to me. Again and again.

  Now here I was, hiding in the hallway of the clubhouse, hugging myself.

  I was on security footage with Talon as he killed Tommy.

  The detective had made it very clear… either Talon took the tapes or someone who wanted revenge did.

  “Thanks for leaving me,” Talon’s voice bellowed.

  “Fuck you, man,” Layne said. “This mess is all yours. You wanted it, you got it. You wanted to pull that trigger. You wanted to make your point. You did it, brother. Well done.”

  I felt guilt race through my body again. It was me who told Talon why I was on Layne’s motorcycle. I was the reason Talon went to see what Gabel was doing. Because of me, Tommy was dead, Gabel had his jaw wired shut, and there was a detective snooping around the clubhouse. There wasn’t much more of a sign for me to make my exit. I had to get the hell out of the clubhouse and out of town.

  It was easier to think than to act out.

  Talon came around the corner and stopped when he saw me.

  “You hear all that?” he asked.

  “The gunshot?” I replied. “Yeah. I heard it. And everything else…”

  “Fuck.”