He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and dug through it until he found what he was looking for. A small, worn photograph taken over thirty years ago. He studied the man in the photo who sat on a motorcycle. Unfortunately, it was taken from a distance and he couldn’t make out the face clearly. He brushed his thumb over the old picture then flipped it over to read the name that had been written in blue ink on the back. Though it was almost worn away, he could still make it out...
Buzz.
The photo was the only piece of his father that he had.
He carefully tucked it back away, heeled the kickstand up and rolled out of the lot onto a side street. He had no idea where he was headed. None at all.
He wasn’t going back to church. He wasn’t heading to Diamond’s. He just needed to get gone. Even if for only a little while.
He headed his bike north and twisted the throttle.
* * *
Slade crab-walked his sled backward into the line of bikes in front of the bar. The lit sign on the roof was barely readable. One of the spotlights had burned out and the painted lettering on the wood sign was old and worn. He doubted the owners of the bar would be upgrading the sign anytime soon. It was a biker bar, not popular drinking hole. Most biker hangouts didn’t want to draw just any type of customer. No, there wouldn’t be a “No Colors” sign next to the entrance. Bikers wearing their colors would be welcomed as long as they didn’t cause trouble.
He shut his sled down and as soon as he dismounted he removed his cut, folded it up neatly and stuffed it into one of his leather saddlebags. Then he reached to the sky with both hands and stretched out the tight muscles in his back and circled his hips once to loosen them up.
Harrisburg wasn’t a long ride from Shadow Valley, but he hadn’t come here directly. After leaving Heaven’s Angels, he had headed north, first to the town he had been raised in. Then he headed toward Manning Grove to visit with one of the guys he had grown up with. After a couple nights of restless sleep, he headed southeast to where he was now.
Wheels of Steel Bar and Grille.
He was hungry, thirsty and tired. He hoped this so-called “grille” had some decent grub. But, honestly, he considered anything other than MRE’s good food. As he stepped through the front door, a cloud of thick smoke hit him, and he breathed it in.
He hadn’t had a cigarette in ages, not since being in the middle east to be exact. He found the tobacco over there much smoother and would hand roll his own. After buying a pack of American-made cigarettes that cost an arm and a leg in the US, he quickly quit. But as his nostrils flared to inhale that familiar smoke, he suddenly had a hankering for one, even though he knew he’d regret it later.
He scanned the dimly lit bar and saw that a few different clubs were in attendance. Some were rowdier than others as they stayed in their own groups, played pool, threw darts or got shit-faced.
He glanced toward the bar that ran along the back of the room and his eyes were drawn to a half dozen bikers who sat in a row on the stools. Since their backs were to him, he could clearly make out their colors.
Shadow Warriors.
A couple of them looked over their shoulders at him and he gave them a chin lift. They both returned it.
He braced himself as he headed toward the bar to grab the lone empty stool and a strong drink...
Because beer certainly wasn’t going to cut it tonight.
Chapter Twelve
“Heard from him?” Hawk asked.
Diamond grabbed the bottle of Gentleman Jack from behind the bar, cracked the lid and filled half her glass with it, then topped it off with a little bit of pop. She stirred it with her finger and then sucked it clean before wiping it on a bar towel.
“Nope,” she answered, then took a great big swallow of her Jack and Diet Coke. After the warmth of the smooth whiskey hit her gut, she continued, “Doubt I will, either.”
Not after lying to him about Rig. And she didn’t blame Slade one fucking bit.
“Good thing I got backup for The Iron Horse.”
“Yeah, good thing,” Di muttered, not giving a flying fuck that Hawk was now one man down. Maybe Diesel could fill in since this was all his fault.
Him and his damn paranoia.
“Ain’t heard nothin’ from him, either,” Z mumbled as he settled onto a stool at the private bar in church. “Texted him a few times. No response.”
“How’s the kid?” Hawk asked him.
“Hoggin’ my woman’s tits, that’s how he is. Gotta learn to share.”
Hawk snorted and shook his head.
“Just wait, chicken hawk. Gotta rock on your ol’ lady’s finger, soon she’s gonna be poppin’ out kids.”
“We’ll see,” Hawk chuckled.
“Yeah, we will. Gotta say, if I was suckin’ down all that warm milk, I’d be sleepin’ all night. Not my kid, fuck no. That little hellion’s up all hours of the night.”
Hawk cleared his throat. “All right, well... Who saw ‘im last?”
“Him who?” Z asked.
“Slade.”
“Right,” Z said with a sharp nod. He looked her direction. “Diamond?”
She shook her head. “Not since the night I kicked him out.”
Z raked fingers through his shoulder-length hair and blew out a breath.
“Hasn’t been up in his room,” Hawk announced. “Not in the bar.” He turned his head and shouted down the bar. “Grizz?”
“What?” the old man shouted back.
“Seen Slade?”
Grizzly frowned. “Wanna see my blade? What the fuck for, boy?”
Hawk snorted again and waved a dismissing hand toward the man. “Never mind,” he mumbled.
Everyone’s attention jumped to the back door as Jewel swept through it with Diesel lumbering at a slower pace behind Di’s whirlwind of a sister.
Jewel came behind the bar and gave her a hug, asking softly, “You good?”
“What do you think?”
Jewel’s lips flattened out in response.
“Beer, woman,” Diesel grunted.
Jewel bugged her eyes out at Di and both of them rolled their lips under at Diesel’s order. As she reached for a glass, Di slapped her hand away.
“Ouch!”
“Don’t you do it. You’re not his slave.” Diesel’s head spun toward her and Diamond met his gaze directly. “Yeah, you heard me. She’s not your slave. Get it yourself.”
His head jerked back, and he opened his mouth, then shut it and came behind the bar, nudging them both out of the way so he could pour his own draft.
“Why she don’t have a man, Jewelee,” he muttered.
Di raised her brows at him. “Had one. You told me to get rid of him.”
“Other dick out there.”
She didn’t want other dick. But it would be a waste of her time telling that to the monster of a man who stood over her.
She moved away and down the bar closer to Crow, who held his arms out and Diamond leaned into him, snuggling between his thighs as he curled his arm around her and held her tight against him. She leaned her head on his shoulder.
“Told you he was a rollin’ stone,” he murmured in her ear.
“Yeah, well, I kind of kicked the stone to get it moving.”
“Know it. D got his reasons.”
“Yeah, then he rubs it in my face that I don’t have a man.”
“Like he said, plenty of dick out there.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“Got it. Ain’t lookin’ for a one nighter; lookin’ for the rest of your nights.”
Di sighed, and Crow gave her a squeeze.
“Gonna find it, baby doll. Don’t worry. Just like your name. Solid with sharp edges, but bright as fuck. Someone will appreciate what you offer.”
She was so done talking about it. Luckily, their attention was pulled to what Dawg was saying.
“... the other night. Tried to kick ‘is drunk ass out again, but he wasn’t havin’ it. Offered t
o get Moose to bring ‘im back, refused that, too. Last I saw ‘im, was crashed on one of the couches in the main stage area.”
Diamond’s ears perked, and her heart thumped a little faster. The main stage area? Of Heaven’s Angels?
“That new? Or been a regular thing for ‘im?” Hawk asked Dawg.
Dawg’s eyes slid to Diamond. She arched a brow at him, encouraging him to answer. “Yeah.”
Hawk frowned. “Yeah what?”
“Been a regular thing ‘til a few weeks ago. Then it stopped. Was surprised to see ‘im again the other night.”
“Think he went on a bender an’ landed with any of the girls?”
“Dunno.”
“He done any of ‘em before?”
His eyes slid to Diamond again, but he quickly looked away before he answered Hawk. “Yeah.”
“Anyone in particular?”
“Savannah.”
Diesel slammed his hand on the bar, making Diamond jerk in Crow’s arms. “Call ‘er right now. See if he’s holed up there.”
Diamond eyeballed Dawg as he moved away from the bar and headed to a far corner of the large common room, pulling his cell out of his pocket. As he put the phone to his ear, his eyes landed on her again before he turned away, so she couldn’t watch his face as he talked to this “Savannah.”
She must have been the one he slept with the morning they ran into each other at church. The morning he smelled like skanky snatch. She frowned.
Savannah. Such a typical stripper name.
“Diamond, get over it,” D growled.
She shot him a glare.
“Gettin’ Hunter on it. Havin’ ‘im do ‘is thing.”
That was all well and good, unless... “If he was trashed and drove his bike, he could’ve ended up in a ditch somewhere, D.”
“Wearin’ our colors? Woulda heard ‘bout it by now.”
“What if he hasn’t been found yet? He could be injured or dying somewhere.”
“Could be,” was all Diesel grunted.
She curled her fists but fought the urge to punch him in the gut. It probably would only amuse him but break her hand in the process. “Maybe we should get Axel to put out an APB or a missing person’s or whatever they call it on him.”
Diesel’s lip curled. “Keep that pig outta it. Got me?”
Jewel slid an arm around his waist and planted a hand on his stomach under his cut. “She’s just worried.”
“Worryin’ ‘bout the enemy,” he growled, meeting his ol’ lady’s eyes.
“We don’t know that,” Jewel said softly.
“Right. Can’t question ‘im either when he goes ghost like that.”
“Maybe he left because he was upset,” she suggested.
“’Bout what?” he grunted.
Jewel made an impatient face at her man. “Did you ever consider he might like Diamond? Maybe more than like her. Finding out the woman you’ve been... seeing cheated on you is enough to make anyone upset.”
D’s eyes landed on Diamond and he studied her as if he’d never seen her before. Almost as if he didn’t recognize her.
It was disturbing. Suddenly a look crossed his face, but it was quickly hidden, and he dropped his gaze back to Jewel.
“Yeah, baby, got it,” he finally grumbled. “Might be more than snatch to ‘im.”
Diamond sucked in a breath. Jewel rolled her eyes and pushed away from him, shaking her head.
“Just a bit sharp at the edges, don’t take much to smooth ‘er out,” Crow volunteered.
“Right,” D grunted. “Smooth when gettin’ dick, sharp when she ain’t.”
Diamond pulled out of Crow’s arms and he let her go.
“I need a cupcake,” Diamond announced.
“I’ll join you,” Jewel said.
She needed to get out of there before her bitch switch was flipped on and unable to be shut off. Maybe she should drive around a bit to check the area. Even if Slade was a wolf in sheep’s clothing, she didn’t want anything bad to happen to him. And she certainly didn’t want him suffering in some ditch somewhere. Shadow Warrior or not.
* * *
Slade groaned. His head was killing him. He’d done it again. Ended up totally fucking trashed and he wondered whose lap or bed he’d ended up in last night. Whoever it was, it wasn’t the one he wanted it to be.
He was lying on his side and realized it wasn’t only his head that hurt, but his whole body ached like a motherfucker and his arms felt numb, as though they were asleep.
He yelled out in pain when something hard and heavy connected with his ribs.
“Coulda killed you. But didn’t.”
What the fuck?
He tried to open his eyes. The left eyelid partially lifted, the right one seemed broken. For some reason he couldn’t get it to work no matter how hard he tried.
With his narrowed vision he couldn’t see much of anything. Though, directly in his line of sight looked like his DAMC cut lying next to his head. On the floor.
Who the fuck did that? His colors should never touch the floor. Doing so was disrespecting the club and the brotherhood. A brother could get their ass beat for that, if not tossed out of an MC.
He thought he had safely hidden it in this saddlebag.
When he attempted to roll over, he discovered with annoyance his arms and legs wouldn’t move. Not only were they asleep from being in an uncomfortable position, he was tied up with something, but he couldn’t tell what.
Fuckin’ Christ.
Fucking Warriors must have either knocked him out cold or drugged him. By the way his head hurt it could’ve been either.
“Wanna know why you were askin’ ‘bout Buzz, asshole.”
While he was down and out they must have beat the shit out of him. Because if he’d been conscious, there would’ve been no way he would’ve let them get in the number of hits it would’ve taken to make his body feel this badly. It not only fucking hurt to breathe, any movement was excruciating, he couldn’t see shit, and he hadn’t tried talking yet.
But he was about to.
In his limited line of sight, he saw a boot stomp on his cut and grind it into the filthy concrete.
“Why the fuck was you askin’ ‘bout Buzz?” came the impatient shout from somewhere above him.
“Pop,” Slade forced out on a cough.
“What’d he say?”
“Think ‘pop’,” said a second male voice.
It took everything Slade had to say, “Lookin’ for my... father.”
“Buzz ain’t your pop.”
“Know ‘im?” he asked, unable to see whoever was in the room, which put him at a huge disadvantage. Not that being trussed up wasn’t one already.
Slade didn’t get an answer. Instead he heard some low murmurs a distance away from him.
Then he heard heavy footsteps, a pause, then someone drop kicked him in the ribs.
Fucking goddamn, that hurt. Then a blurry face was near his. “Why you with the Angels when your pop’s a Warrior? You’re lyin’.”
Slade sucked in a breath to answer, but he couldn’t.
His father was a Shadow Warrior.
Fuck.
He had no idea. He only knew the man was a biker.
Over the years, Slade had hit so many biker bars, asking anyone who would listen if they knew a biker named Buzz and he’d never got a solid lead.
Now, he finally got his answer...
One he didn’t want to hear.
His father was a fucking Warrior. And Slade became an Angel, the Warriors’ hated rivals.
Life couldn’t be so fucking ironic, could it?
Even so, he still wanted answers from his father. He wanted to know why he deserted his mother when she discovered she was pregnant.
Slade wanted to know why Buzz didn’t come back when the mother of his son died.
He wanted to know why his father didn’t come get him when he ended up in a foster home.
When he ended up with no family.<
br />
When no one else wanted him.
When he was fucking raised by strangers who weren’t blood.
Why did his father hate him enough to desert him?
“Gotta... talk to... ‘im,” Slade struggled to get out.
Laughter surrounded him. Slade tried to figure out how many Warriors stood over him. His best guess was the six he had talked to at the bar.
He also guessed that he wasn’t getting out of this alive. Unless he could convince them to take him to his father.
“Can talk to ‘im on the other side when we kill ya.”
“Can’t understand why you’d be an Angel when one of ‘em killed your pop.”
“Asshole got no sense of loyalty.”
An Angel killed his father?
“You know, maybe we can get a message to the Angels. Tell ‘em to come get their boy. Maybe take out a few of ‘em when they come ridin’ in to rescue ‘im.”
“Ambush ‘em like they did our brothers in South Side.”
“Surprised they patched this fucker in since he’s got Warrior blood in ‘im.”
“Stupid fucks.”
“Need a reason to get some of ‘em here. Need a good reason why we didn’t take his ass out an’ kept ‘im breathin’ instead.”
“Think they still got Black Jack?”
“After all these months? Fuck no. Bet Jack’s dead an’ buried.”
“What do they have that we want?”
“Want all of ‘em dead.”
“Want Shadow Valley.”
“They ain’t giving up territory for this fucker.”
Slade knew that was true. DAMC wasn’t giving up their area for his ass. He was new to the club, not born into it, and once they knew he had Warrior blood running through his veins, he wouldn’t be surprised if they stripped him of his colors.
He couldn’t imagine any of them, especially Diesel, would want to negotiate for him.
He was screwed. The Warriors held his life in their sadistic hands. And it wasn’t looking good for him.
“Could tell ‘em we want guns an’ ammo in exchange. Got that gun shop. We could stock up.”
“Yeah, an’ then use their own shit against ‘em.” A couple of them laughed at that.
Down & Dirty: Books 4-6: Dirty Angels MC Box Set 2 Page 55
