Whatever the boots above me are planning to do with me, let them do as they please, I’m not afraid. John ‘Oak’ Johnson isn’t afraid of anything or anyone. Physical pain means nothing to me and I haven’t felt emotional pain in many years.
Death can hurt. I’m not talking your own death. I’m mean someone else’s that you’re close with can hurt. No matter how I die I don’t think it will hurt as much as Mark’s death did. He wasn’t no angel. He could kick ass like the next guy in a bar brawl. Better yet, he would take any cunt out who came for one of his own without a second thought. Yet, the man would sit and listen to anyone who needed an ear to chew off, it didn’t matter how small the problem was to them. He was understanding and compassionate. Brotherhood is more than friendship, the foundations brotherhood are based on are solid. I believed nothing could crack it. I was wrong. Mark’s death was an almighty crack for me and a crack that never healed.
I remember, I got on my bike and rode. I had no destination, no idea of time, I had no feeling at all. I’d been gone for a week after his funeral and my ass couldn’t take any more sitting down. I had spent the nights drowning my sorrows in different bars and sleeping under the stars, and the days riding hard and fast wherever the road led me. During the last night before I returned home, I ended up in yet another bar, which turned out to be the first real night I took notice off since Mark’s death. I had only been there for an hour when a group of rowdy guys walked through the door. I had drunk more than enough to put a lesser man on his ass and it didn’t take long before they noticed me on my own.
Being a part of the club I learned I could watch my back without having to look over my shoulder. The whole bar took on a different atmosphere, other patrons threw me sideway glances as they moved on, and the music went from blaring to a low hum. My heart was pounding against my rib cage, my blood was pumping around my veins at a million miles an hour and I was hyped. The first real feeling I owned and I embraced it.
One of the guys pressed up against my left while another guy pressed up against my right, sandwiching me in.
They spewed some hillbilly shit in my ear, trying to intimidate me, but it had the opposite effect on me.
Every curse and threat I heard enticed me, it pushed me to feel. It took all of ten seconds for fists to start flying, both theirs and mine. I was on fire, I had two of them down before their friends saw it coming. I was releasing built up grief and turning it into aggression. My fists were connecting with jaws and cheekbones and it was a beautiful sight. Well, it was a beautiful sight until a bar stool came down over my head.
The minutes that followed felt like hours, some men would have curled into a ball to protect themselves, not me. I took every kick with pleasure. Strangely, it was the release I needed.
They thought they owned the place, they thought they owned me. They beat me until they were exhausted and believed they won. Only I knew the truth of what happened that night. To them they beat down another guy who wasn’t one of them, to me, they saved me. They brought me back to life.
Whoever has me tied down here like an unwanted mongrel can bring it. It may just bring me back to life again.
I retrace my memory of the events that brought me here and try to remember faces or voices I heard that I could put a name too. The truth is, I can’t remember anything from the minute I came off my bike.
Sometimes, I wish I could back to the beginning and start all over. They were simpler days, everyone was still alive and I had my old lady at my side.
Chapter Twelve
Cas
Two hours sleep. Fuck. I managed two hours sleep before I woke up feeling like the walls were closing in on me. I was dressed and out of the door before I woke Alannah and Leo along with me and found myself needing fresh air. I love this time of day when you can hear the crickets chirping and nothing else. The sun long ago rose but my brothers are still crashed out. My eyes are on the main house. I’ve been staring at it trying to work out why we haven’t been using it. It’s been standing empty since Kitty left three years ago and it’s about time we did something with it.
Flicking my cigarette to the ground, I watch until it burns out and only the butt is left, blowing off in the breeze.
“Da da.”
A smile crosses my face at the sound of my innocent son. Turning around on the bench, Leo toddles my way and he too is wearing a big smile.
“Hey little man.”
Alannah follows him out looking well rested but worry edges around her.
“Did you manage to get any sleep?” she asks, as I scoop Leo up off the ground.
I lean over Leo and kiss Lana good morning and breathe in her vanilla perfume.
“Sleep? Did you get any?” she asks, again.
“Not much,” I shrug, “Let’s go get your breakfast,” I smile at Leo, changing the conversation before Alannah really starts to worry.
When she told me she was carrying my kid on our wedding day, I didn’t think I could be that happy ever again. I was surrounded my brothers, wearing the president patch, just married the only woman I have ever loved and we were having our first child. Life couldn’t get any better, then it did, our son was born and when I looked into his eyes it left me speechless how my mother looked at me and abandoned me. I’m going to get those good days back and everyone will be here to enjoy them too. Slade and Kristen are expecting their first child together and I’ll be damned if another child is born into the club with threats over our heads.
Sitting Leo on my lap at the table in the kitchen, Alannah prepares the breakfast. I fucking love her so much. I’ve been such an ass to her lately and here she is, acting like I’m the best thing in her life.
“I’m sorry for last night, I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I had a badass headache and I couldn’t think straight.”
She smiles over her shoulder, “Don’t worry about it.”
And just like that we move on. Leo pats at my patches and I lean down and kiss his forehead.
“One day, you’ll wear your own patches and stand by my side,” I grin, picturing my boy next to me.
“That will be a handsome sight,” Alannah smiles.
I chuckle, trust my wife to think of what it will look like, myself, I was picturing the future.
“Listen, the guys will be coming in soon and I’m going to tell them they should bring their families in, can you make sure I don’t have to hear the women moaning and shit?”
She joins us at the table and places our breakfast on the table.
“Are we going on lockdown?” she asks, frowning at the prospect.
“Not exactly, I don’t have any idea what is going to happen tonight and I would like one less problem popping up and biting me on the ass. I don’t want to take any chances while we’re out of town.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure they stay in line and out of yours,” she grins, pouring our coffees.
I appreciate her understanding, it makes my life hell of a lot easier.
“Kristen and Zach stayed here with Slade last night, but Bonnie left with JJ.”
I sigh heavily. Bonnie is not going to like being told she has to stay here. For someone who knows our club inside and out and all the dangers that can come from being a part of it, she sure does like to test us sometimes.
Sparky gives her the illusion of freedom but she is so loved up with him she doesn’t see it until she hears it coming from his mouth. Slade walks in first with Zach on his back. He drops him onto one of the chairs and turns around when Kristen walks in looking pale and peaky.
Alannah didn’t suffer from morning sickness much and I thank whoever I need to that she didn’t.
Kristen looks like shit.
“Sit yourself down and I’ll get Zach his cereal,” Slade tells her, pulling out a chair for her.
She smiles briefly and takes deep breaths.
“Sparky’s here, I heard him on my way down arguing with Bonnie,” he adds, after he’s taken care of his wife.
I didn�
��t expect any less from her, Sparky must have thought the same as I and brought her in before he was told to, saving him the trip later on today.
I down the last of my coffee and stand leaning over to kiss Leo and Alannah goodbye.
“Round everyone up,” I order Slade.
Sparky reaches the backroom door before I do and slams it open with one hand. “Sometimes I think it would be fuckin’ easier if I didn’t give a shit if she was safe or not,” he argues, slumping down on his chair.
“She’ll come around, she knows it’s for the best,” I offer.
“She knows it’s for the best, but I doubt she’ll come around,” he sighs.
“She’s here, that’s what matters.”
Everyone fills the back room and Slade closes the door after him as he is the last one in and takes his seat next to Sparky.
“We all know why we’re here this morning. The Devil’s Bastards are no longer affiliated with us and to prove it, they’ve taken Oak. They have declared war against us and I think we’re all in agreement when I say, they ain’t going to win.”
Agreements fly around the room and I carry on, “I gave them till tonight to return Oak, but we have to plan to fight, they won’t release him so it’s down to us to bring him home and show them how wrong they are to cross us. The table’s open to offers of retrieval.”
Sparky is the first one to offer a suggestion, “Noah said Oak wasn’t at their clubhouse, I suggest we hit their clubhouse hard, all of us ride out there again and shoot the place to the ground. Anyone who is left alive we’ll make them talk.”
It’s basically what I had in mind, everyone around the table agrees and looks like we have a plan.
“We have to show force with them, the little prick thinks he’s God. Taking out the clubhouse that shouldn’t be his would wipe the smug right off his face.” Slade chimes in.
“Yeah, with all of us surrounding the place, they wouldn’t stand a chance. We ride in hard and fast and shoot.” Ricky adds his piece.
“And when we’re done, I’ll leave them a leaving gift that will truly bring the house down,” Sparky laughs.
It’s been a while since Sparky has played with explosives.
“Sounds like we have a plan,” I smile.
“What about Noah and his guys?” Ricky asks.
Lighting another cigarette, I inhale deeply while I think about it.
“We could do with the extra bodies. They’ve already said they’ll fight with us. Let them prove it.” I say, blowing out a long stream of smoke.
I feel better now we have a plan to get Oak back and wipe out the last remaining Devil’s Bastards.
“We still don’t know who took out Linc and his men,” Slade says.
“I think we do, brother. It’s pretty obvious Danny arranged this whole party. He wanted the gavel and now he has it.” I grunt.
“I’ll talk to Noah, he was close to Linc, he might even want the opportunity to take Danny out himself.”
“The assface’s ego is big enough for us all to have a piece of him, and we will.” Sparky vows.
“Too right we will, Danny is going to die and everyone else who follows him and we’ll bring Oak home where he belongs. Be ready to ride at seven, when we arrive at their shitpit, we’ll circle the house and shoot.”
I bring the gavel down and end the meeting. There’s no point in going over things, we all know what we’re doing and what is at stake.
The room empties pretty quickly and I pull out my phone to call Denzel again. It rings out and goes to voicemail.
I could throw my cell at the wall through frustration but I grip onto it tightly and redial. Again, it rings out and goes to voicemail. I never leave messages and I won’t start now. The feeling in my gut is telling me this is bad and we’re sitting on a life sentence in prison if we don’t get rid of the latest shipment soon.
Noah and the men he turned up with are fitting in well and have already made themselves comfortable around the place. I catch Noah heading outside and follow him out. Standing by his bike, he lights a cigarette and jerks his chin my way when he sees me walking towards him.
“I miss it,” he says, before exhaling a stream of smoke.
“What do you miss?” I ask, lighting a cigarette and taking a long drag.
“Sitting around a table, knowing every man in that room is a man you can trust.”
“You’ll have that again one day,” I promise, “we’ve come to a decision and we want to know if you meant what you said about fighting with us?”
He stands a little taller and flicks his cigarette to the ground, squashing it under his heavy boot.
“I meant every word,” he says, firmly.
“Good, because we ride tonight and we’re planning on taking out their clubhouse and everyone who is inside.”
I watch him closely to see how he reacts and he doesn’t surprise me. The man has lost his club he has been a part of for over two decades and yet, he is moving on already.
“I have many good memories there, but if Linc and I aren’t there then the place means nothing to me.”
“I understand. Will you join us?”
“Hell yeah, I won’t be able to sleep at night until Oak is back here and Danny has nothing of the Devil’s Bastards club,” he vows.
Noah is old school and you always know where you stand with him. I nod once and leave him with his bike. I can feel his sorrow of losing a piece of his life, but I can also feel the determination to remedy the cause of it.
Who knows, when we take out Danny and his men, he may rebuild his chapter and be voted in to wear the president patch. He would be make a fine president, one I would happily do business with.
Chapter Thirteen
Oak
The feeling in my ass long disappeared. It’s not even painful no more, I can’t feel anything. With my weight and the angle my wrists are tied above my head, I can’t move an inch. It’s not like I have the energy to move anyways. My head is raging and all I can think about is my next drink, or wondering if I will live long enough to taste the fine liquor that is my favourite, whiskey.
Closing my left eye as the other has swollen shut, I picture myself propped up at the Lost Souls bar and knocking back measure after measure of the stuff. How it used to burn my throat with every gulp, these days, it only quells the need to consume the bottle.
It has been many years since I drank for pleasure, because I wanted to have a good night with my brothers. Looking back, those nights too ended when Mark took his last breath. Drink since then has become medicinal. A need that is never satisfied.
The screeching of a rusted bolt being dragged across the door upstairs echoes around the basement and the door creeps open and heavy boots stomp lazily down each step.
Aside from the boots, the first thing to come into view is a bottle of water in the hand who has me tied up here. I keep my eyes on the water as he rounds the corner at the bottom of the stairs and makes his way over to me. Standing before me, I try to get a good look at his face but the light around him darkens my view. It’s not until he bends down that I see his patches. Devil’s Bastards.
“Who are you?” I try to say, but my throat is too dry, “What are you playin’ at keepin’ me here?” I manage to choke out dryly.
My eyes fall on the most important patch a cut can own and I know the Devil’s Bastards club as we once knew it is about to fall in flames.
“I’m Danny and I’m not playing at anything. We’re making our move and unfortunately, you Oak, are my first move.”
Forcefully yanking onto my chin, my mouth falls open and he empties half the bottle of water down my throat. Apart from choking on the intrusion, I lap up every drop I can and the burning in my throat slowly subsides.
“To what end?” I ask.
“To the only end I design.”
He stands and walks over to the boxes by the far wall. He rifles through the boxes on top and speaks with his back still turned to me.
“I was l
ooking forward to taking you but you made it too easy. I thought you would fight.”
“If it’s a fight you want, untie me and we’ll fight,” I snort.
I can barely see out of the one eye that hasn’t closed up but I don’t care. At least I’ll be able to move and get the feeling back in my ass.
He turns around and the glint in his eyes tells me I’m on the right track to being untied. He might be half my age and I might have become complacent over the years, but I’ll still fight my way out of this, or give it a good try.
“Sure, why not. I’ve got some time to spare,” he smirks.
He saunters over and shoves his knee into my chest to hold me down while he unties my wrists. Pain shoots through my arms as they fall down on me and my ankles tingle as he roughly pulls my legs free. He rockets back on his heels as I roll down onto my side and muster the energy to climb up to my feet.
“Normally I wouldn’t fight an old man, however, my hatred for the patch you wear has changed my mind,” he says, stepping back crunching his knuckles.
I snort, heaving myself to my feet. The height causes dizziness and I stop myself from vomiting all over the floor. I have nothing to bring up anyway. My back clicks into place and the aches and pains begin to fade away.
As soon as I’m on my feet and have the energy to throw a punch, my jaw is knocked sideways and I’m back on the floor. The kid packs a powerful punch, that’s for sure.
I make it back on my feet faster than my first attempt and right myself before managing to land a sold right to his jaw. A brief flicker of surprize hits him but he quickly recovers and widens the space between us.
“Lost Souls and Devil’s Bastards have always been allies, why do you presume you can rock up, take over and fuck shit up?” I ask, prolonging the fight to gather my strength.
“Because old man, the Devil’s Bastards is my club now and we want what we are owed,” he roars, closing the distance in the blink of an eye and striking his fist into the same place on my jaw.
Biker Taken (The Lost Souls MC Series Book 6) Page 7
