Resurrection (Wesson Rebel MC Series Book 3)

by Colt, Shyla

  “Making a living as a nomad,” I answer.

  “Nomad? Is that a gang?”

  “It’s a person affiliated with a motorcycle club who has the ability to come and go as he pleases. Think of it as a contracture for hire who only works for one company.”

  “Ahhh, he left the life, but the life never left him.” Giancarlo looks pleased. “If this so called club is there for him, why are you here?”

  I repeat the speech Dallas delivered to me, almost verbatim. “Because this isn’t our world. We don’t know what we’re up against, and making moves blind, will get you killed.”

  “Wise words.”

  “My President is a wise man.”

  “That remains to be seen,” someone says. The others snicker around the table.

  I bite the inside of my cheek to keep my comments to myself. I’m outnumbered, out gunned, and out of my territory.

  “Why did he send you to do his work?” Giancarlo asks.

  “Because I’m the only one who can communicate with Vita, and he’s taking stock of the situation. If it happened on our turf, no one knows it better than us.”

  “You say if,” Giancarlo says.

  “Yes, he was on his way back from a mission out of town. Once we pinpoint where it happened, we’ll know more.” I resent the interrogation. I’m not the one who did wrong, so why should I be put on trial? I clench and unclench my fists beneath the tablecloth.

  “Where was he coming from?”

  “Dallas, Texas.”

  “Texas, the Lodge. It’s possible it was an accidental case of recognition,” someone suggests.

  “Highly unlikely. I want to know what’s occurred to make him decide his position is unsafe suddenly. Make calls now.” Giancarlo turns his attention to me. “I think we just found our connection.”

  Chapter Five

  Vita/Elisa

  I know exactly what Lodge means in our language. It’s a kill house. A place in the middle of nowhere they drag motherfuckers to. It’s for info extraction and disposal.

  Is he already dead?

  They haven’t called back since I played hardball.

  Have I cost my brother his life?

  I try not to wring my hands as we wait. The whispers around us remind me of the hiss of snakes. Any of them could be a turncoat. I’m relying on my aunt’s judgment. It’s a scary thing to do, after years of trusting only Ira. A migraine sets in. The steady thump at my temples pushes me closer to the edge.

  “We got something. Benny says he saw them drive up in a blacked out SUV a few nights ago.”

  “He never even made it out of Texas,” Prophet mumbles.

  I tap his shoulder.

  “She wants to know what we’ll do now.”

  “Now, we fly out and you stay back here. You know the drill. You lay low, stay protected, and wait for word.”

  “Here, she feels like a sitting duck,” Prophet relays.

  Giancarlo frowns.

  I bite the inside of my cheek. I’m going against the grain. I’m only here because I know information. Women do not have a voice and I’m pushing my luck. But I’ll do what it takes to ensure Ira’s safety.

  “You got a better hiding place?” Giancarlo asks.

  I want to say home, but that would make me stupid, and if I go to the clubhouse, it would bring trouble they didn’t need down on them. So instead, I shake my head no.

  “We’ll keep you safe. We’ve been waiting for a moment like this,” Aunt Giada says.

  I glance down to hide the pool of anger that’s formed. I turn to Prophet, grateful it’s him doing my dirty work.

  “She finds that hard to believe,” Prophet says.

  Giada gasps.

  “I have no doubts your husband, my godfather, would happily slit your throat and deliver my corpse to Uncle Lorenzo with a bow. So, you can understand why I’d be a little apprehensive.” I sign.

  Is she really so blind to the way things are?

  Giada’s eyes fill with shame and she glances down.

  I don’t want to hurt her, but I can’t afford to be polite.

  “You got a point here. I can’t fault you when I know you’re fighting for your life,” Cousin Stephen says.

  I sign to Prophet…“I don’t mean any disrespect. But my number one priority is my brother.” I place my shaking hands in my lap. I’ve walked into the furnace hoping to— miraculously— not be burned.

  All heads turn toward Giancarlo. He’ll have the final say.

  I figured it would happen this way. In Italy, he’s untouchable, the way the Lorello’s once were. It’s an honor that he even showed up. I know it’s because our families have a history together. My grandfather must be rolling in his grave. His family gone belly up and become polluted with poison, hate, greed and distrust. It’s not what we were ever about. Family has always been the most important thing. I’m not sure where Uncle Lorenzo went wrong.

  “Being away from your family has made you brash and outspoken. You don’t adhere to our rules the way you once did. I understand it was what allowed you to survive. I’ll overlook it in this instance, because you have no male here in the family to protect you. But remember your place, and learn to hold your tongue. You have my blessing to live apart from the family for now. There’s a lot going on and you’re a major key. I want you safe and out of everyone’s reach. You will stay in contact, using burner phones, and constantly be moving. I will personally oversee our pest control problem in Texas. And I promise you this… Either your brother or I will contact you when the extermination has been completed.”

  I want to hang all my hopes on this man with his smooth voice, weathered skin, and commanding presence. He was once my grandfather’s most trusted ally. Regardless of the emotions I have swirling around inside me like a tide pool, I know this is the best I’m going to get. Alienating myself would be putting a gun to my head. I’m no good to anyone that way. “Thank you, Giancarlo,” I mouth the words.

  “Go with your young man, stay hidden, stay safe and smart. That’s how you lasted this long.” There’s a wealth of knowledge in his eyes.

  There are more things going on here than I know about. I think maybe, he wants me away? That frightens me.

  “Francesco, get her everything she’ll need,” Giancarlo instructs.

  His son stands and heads to the front of the building, disappearing from view.

  “Anyone here have a problem with this plan?” he asks out of courtesy.

  I gauge the responses as everyone glances around and shakes their head. A chorus of no’s rise up and fill the room.

  Francesco returns with a sheet of paper.

  “Come with me. I will explain everything and see you out,” Giancarlo says. He stands and everyone else follows suits.

  I can see the narrowed gazes and feel the stirrings of envy. Everyone wants to be noticed and favored. We walk toward the back exit and he pauses. “On that sheet of paper, you’ll find all my contact information. I want you to keep in touch daily with a burner phone. A new one every day.”

  I may be a fool, but I trust this man. More so than my own flesh and blood sitting in that room. “How will I know about my brother?”

  “I will call your young man. You’ve given no one your number have you?”

  Prophet shakes his head. His flesh looks tight around his lips and forehead. He’s pissed.

  “Here…put the number in under Priest, they’ll never question that I would have him on speed dial.”

  We make the exchange and he ushers us out of the building.

  I’m numb as we walk back to our car. Silently, I pray for my brother’s well-being.

  “You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d say he wanted you to get the hell out of there,” Prophet muses.

  “He did,” I agree.

  “Why?”

  “That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it? We need to get our things from the hotel and move. I feel…unsafe.”

  He narrows his eyes. “You want
peace of mind? We ditch the suits, cars, and uppity shit, then go out on the road on the back of a bike, staying in lower class motels, hotels, and even on the road if we need to. A tent and two bedrolls are all we really need. Being cut off from civilization would probably be a good thing about now.”

  His words make sense.

  We pause outside the car. “You know some place like that all the way out here?” I ask skeptically.

  “No, but I know someone who will, and no offense, but I’d much rather trust them with my life. They’re our sister chapter and have nothing to gain by screwing us over. To them, you’re just the girl I’ll be traveling with. Let’s keep it that way. They don’t need to know why I’m hiding, just that I need to.”

  I wrinkle my nose. The last thing I want to do is be trapped with him for longer than I have to. However, annoyed beats dead any day.

  I’m being a bitch.

  Guilt hits for about a millisecond. He’s made it clear I’m not his favorite person. It’s natural I return the animosity. This is hard for me, too. He’s just too damn pig-headed to realize that. I don’t like the position I’ve been placed in. Some would, but they’re not me. I’m dying to tell him that, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s hurt me. “Then by all means lead on.” I give a dismissive wave of my hand.

  He growls.

  Inwardly, I smirk…score one, Vita. If he wants to turn this into a battlefield, I’m going to make sure I get in a few hits of my own. We climb into the car, and he enters a set of directions into the GPS on his phone.

  “Things are run a little differently in this club. They’re rough around the edges. You follow my lead, look pretty and we won’t have any problems.”

  I huff. He would like that. Me at his beck and call. It’d make him feel like he was getting one over on me.

  “I’m serious, Vita. These guys won’t put up with your shit.”

  Like they can even understand me.

  “You know what I’m talking about.”

  My mouth drops. It’s like he reached into my brain.

  “It isn’t about what you can’t say. It’s your attitude.”

  It’s times like this when I hate my injury most. He’s got me over a barrel. He can flap his gums all he likes and I can’t get a word in edge wise. We’re like oil and water. We can’t mix, despite our precarious situation. It’s ridiculous. Before now, I would’ve said he was attractive. Now, he’s the devil himself. I wrap my arms around my waist and rest my head against the cool glass. The silence that fell in the car grew to deafening. My mind began to wander.

  Had they left now to retrieve my brother? What will they find? Will they tip off the people holding him? Where is Lorenzo?

  “I’m going to call Dallas, and give him an update,” he says.

  I make a sound of acknowledgment. I want to be there when they burst into that building and see him with my own eyes, whatever state he was in. It’s not the way it’s done. You can’t go to them for help and expect to change decades of policy. I can hear Prophet in the background giving Dallas a play by play.

  “Vita? She’s…fine.”

  I turn to look at him.

  “Tell Cora not to worry. I’m taking good care of her. We’re on our way to the sister club now. We plan on laying low while they check out the place in Texas. Why? Cause there’s a freaking turf war going on, only the battle for power is in the family. Yeah, we thought we had it bad.” He snickers. “Yeah, I think that’s why we couldn’t find anything on our end. He never made it out of Texas. The trail probably ended where the techs picked up his signal last. I’m not sure, but the location meant something to her family. Yeah… I think it’s safe to say they’re all over it.”

  It burns being on the outside looking in. I wish I could sink inside myself and disappear. It’s not like I could have the conversation with Dallas. Lack of speech is an isolating thing. It’s why I hardened myself against everyone. Then this happened and I was forced to rely on someone else. I look at Prophet. When he’s not dealing with me, he almost looks happy. The car jerks forward, and I cry out, clutching my neck.

  “What the fuck?” he yells.

  I glance up in the rearview mirror and spot a black car with no license plate gunning for us.

  We’re rammed again.

  “Son of a bitch!” Prophet jerks the wheel and we avoid being pummeled once more. “Hold on, Vita,” he warns.

  Gripping the handle above my head I pray. We’re weaving through the streets like drunkards. The road is vacant so late at night, but he doesn’t know where he’s going and I can’t tell him.

  The computerized GPS voice is a mockery. Turn right at Fairbanks.

  He slams on the brakes and the world spins as we go in a circle.

  My stomach tumbles like a tea over a kettle or like a spring climbing down stairs. We come to a halt, and he guns it, heading down Fairbanks. Panic washes over me. No one, other than the people in that room, could know about me. We have another traitor, which means Ira is probably—

  I cry out. The sound is muffled and garbled. Tears pour down my face.

  “Keep it together for me, Vita.”

  I attempt to speak. “Uck.” Pain explodes in my throat. I clutch it, gagging. There’s a medical reason why I don’t attempt speak.

  His head whips around and his jaw drops.

  I don’t give a damn what he thinks about me. My brother is dead and I’m probably right behind him.

  “Don’t you give up on me, dammit! You got me into this mess and you’re going to see it through.”

  We’re rammed from the side.

  My head bounces off the glass and I cry out.

  “Shit.” Prophet jerks the wheel and slams on the brakes. He veers us to the right and it’s our turn to be the hunters. He hits the smaller car dead center, at top speed.

  My neck snaps back. Metal grinds on metal as sparks fly. The car takes to the air. It’s like a stunt from a movie.

  How the hell did you do that?

  “Simple physics,” he answers the unspoken question.

  I’m starting to get why they call him Prophet.

  “You know this isn’t done, right?” He looks at me.

  The coldness coming from him is practically arctic. My head feels like a watermelon fit to burst. But I ignore the pain, as I pull up my skirt and reveal my thigh holster. He drives over to the wreck and we both step from the car cautiously. I have my gun aimed at the ground, finger straight and off the trigger, just like my father taught me. Ira always insisted on continued practice with firearms. I love him for that right now. We approach the car from behind. The door is kicked open. I take a deep breath, lift the muzzle, and line up the sights, like my father taught me to and— squeeze.

  A thwack sounds as the bullet rips through the back of his skull. The body drops to the ground, motionless.

  Head shot. Effective and bullet conserving.

  A sick sense of satisfaction winds its way through my body. They’re dead and I’m not. This is the second attempt on my life. It’s starting to get old. I hear Prophet fire off a round beside me. I look over in time to see a muscular body enthralled in a death dance as bullets rip through his midsection and chest. I walk over to the body and roll it over. It gives me all the answers I need. These are my aunt’s men.

  Son of a bitch.

  “You know them?” Prophet asks.

  I nod my head, peering at him through my tears. I can hear the sirens wailing in the distance, and return the gun to my holster. The one thing I love about a Springfield 9MM is the passive safety. They won’t go off unless you’re holding them and squeezing the trigger. “These are my aunt’s men, which means we are royally fucked.”

  “Shit. Do you think she’s a traitor?”

  “I don’t know. I doubt Ginocarlo has ever really trusted her after Lorenzo came to power. He could’ve been shadowing her the whole time. But I know them. They belong to her family.” I frown. “Though, they aren’t her trusted pers
onal staff.”

  “Either way, we need to get the fuck out of here.” He holds out his hand.

  I take it, grateful for the small amount of human contact. Right now, he’s looking more friend than foe.

  Prophet/Charles

  I’m running high on adrenaline as I finish driving to the club. I know she’s worried about Houdini right now— I am, too— but I can’t let it distract me. If we don’t get underground and with the brothers soon, we might be next on the list of missing persons. “Do you think they put a tracker on the car, or followed us?” I look over. Her bug-eyed expression was everything I needed to know. I toss her my phone. “Find the closest gas station.”

  She does as I ask without resistance.

  What do you know? It only took a near death experience.

  I hear the phone telling me there’s one five miles up the road. I memorize the address and place a call to the president of the chapter, Marbles.

  “Hey, man, you on your way in?”

  “I ran into a little trouble. I need someone to come and pick us up at Bob’s Gas and Go on the corner of Main and Fourth street. I need a cage to take as much as we can carry. We need to ditch the car.”

  “Consider it done. My boys will be there in five.”

  “Marbles?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Make it three.”

  “The heat’s on you?”

  “Something like that.”

  “We’re out the door now, brother.”

  “Appreciate it.” I hang up and turn to Vita. “I need you to get our things together. They’re going to meet us there. Anything you think could be tagged, leave it behind. They’re going to dispose of the car. So, that should give us more time.”

  She continues to stare straight ahead.

  “Hey.” I snap a finger “Hey!”

  She remains cationic. Her slender body sways with the car as I continue to turn on the streets.

  Is she going into shock?