I knew that I should go down and try to catch Marvin before he left. Instead, I leaned my head back against the wall and closed my eyes, silently weeping to the sound of anguish in Penny’s voice as she chanted over and over, “Don’t leave me…don’t leave me…don’t leave me”.
“Mom−” Jay began.
He must have been trying to get her to leave, because she said, “Let me stay with him for just a little longer.” She sobbed. “After today I’ll never see him again.” His resigned sigh followed. Jay was studying to become a doctor, and the thought crossed my mind that he’d be dealing with death all the time in his career.
“Okay, but only for a little while. I’ll go tell Marvin and make the necessary calls.”
He stepped into the hallway and jumped, seeing me plastered against the wall. Without a word he enfolded me into his arms. “I’m so sorry, Jay,” I sobbed against his shirt. “But so glad that you’re here.”
I felt his nod. “Thank God you called me. I’m glad that I got to see him one last time.”
“And he you,” I added.
“Yeah.” Silence followed for a few seconds. “It’s almost as if he waited for me to come home, you know?” His hand began moving up and down my back. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I’ll be okay.” I pulled out of his arms. “Let me go to Penny.”
I watched Jay walk down the stairs, wiped my face, and took a deep breath. When I stepped into the bedroom something alerted Penny that I was there because she turned her head, got to her feet, and rushed to me.
“He’s gone, Iris!” She stepped into my arms, but we were really holding each other. “Dickie is gone!”
“I know, honey.” I hugged her as tightly as I could, running my hand down her soft, newly colored hair.
The sound that escaped her was between a hiccup and a laugh. “He noticed my hair, said I was beautiful.” I smiled, and just listened. “What man notices his wife’s new hair-do minutes before he…he passes?” She pulled back enough for me to meet her liquid eyes. “Oh, God! I’m going to miss him so much!”
“Me, too, sis.”
When she began to crumble in my arms I half-pulled, half-dragged her to my room. She didn’t resist when I lowered her down onto the bed. I followed her there, holding her because it was the only thing that I could do. Tremors racked her body as she cried silently against me. There was really nothing I could say that would make it better, she needed to cry until she was all cried out. Then, with a little help from God, maybe sleep would claim her and she’d find peace, at least for a little while.
As I lay there I closed my own eyes. After a while Penny calmed, and the crying slowed down until only an occasional sob caused her body to jerk. I felt her relax against me, and her breathing slowed. When I went to move away she tightened her arm, so I settled back into place again.
As the quiet blanketed us my eyes grew heavy and before I knew it I was drifting off.
Chapter 21
VD
“Rest in peace, brother.”
I was standing alone at Dickie’s gravesite, while my brothers made their way slowly to their bikes. Iris was walking with Penny, Jay, and Marvin toward their waiting limo. A few words of comfort had been about all we’d shared in the last couple of days. For obvious reasons, Penny had needed to have Iris close by, and I’d used that as an excuse to stay away. Too much needed my attention at the club right now, and they’d had funeral arrangements to make. Iris and I needed to talk, but it would have to wait.
As the limo pulled away from the curb I motioned for Beanie and Corky to head out. They were on guard duty tonight. Until the club took care of the Slayers, or at least knew what they were planning, I was going to make sure that Dickie’s family, along with all the other member’s families, were protected. Penny was going to get a quick and harsh education on what the MC was about when we went on lockdown.
I made a silent promise to Dickie that his family would be taken care of and set off toward my bike. All but two brothers, Whip and Becker, had gone. They were waiting for me because we had a job to do.
Life went on.
There wasn’t always time for grieving when war was coming.
I climbed onto my bike and turned the key. “Let’s ride.”
We were riding out to meet the Slayers prez, Trick, to discuss the latest trouble between our MCs. We’d done extensive damage to his club. Their bar was gone, and a few well-placed explosives had taken care of their warehouse. They’d burned my bar down and terrorized our women, and we’d hit back twice as hard. All they had left was their clubhouse, and that run-down piece of shit was next on our list. If that wasn’t enough to convince them that we weren’t going to tolerate a rival club pissing in our territory, then we’d start eliminating their members.
It had been a damned long time since we’d gone to war, and we weren’t going to sit back and wait for their next move. Mad Dogs hadn’t grown lazy or incompetent. If anything, the success of our businesses kept us on our toes and ready for action. We were always on guard, ready and eager to fight for what we had. All of our bases were covered, and the Slayers were going to become an example for any other club out there who thought we were weak because our long-standing president was gone.
Mad Dogs had a new president, and I had to prove myself.
Even though we had headsets on we remained silent during our ride. We knew where we were going and were focused on our surroundings. Trick had called for the meeting, but we’d chosen the place. Of course, that didn’t mean that we may not be riding into an ambush. Take the president, VP, and enforcer out of an MC, and you crippled the club. That made a club weak and vulnerable. Trick wanted the meeting to take place out in the open. No tricks. Yeah, right, everyone knew that’s how he’d gotten his name. I knew from the president’s stand point that he was pissed and out for blood.
He had to prove something, too.
So far nothing looked suspicious. The road we were on was less traveled and ran parallel to the highway. The few houses and farms that we passed were situated far enough away from the road so that an ambush would have been hard to pull off. We were heading to an old abandoned sawmill outside of Bangor. If Trick had planned an ambush it would most likely happen there. It’s where Demon, Roland, and Bug would be waiting should the Slayers double-cross us. Unless a fight broke out, they were to remain out of sight.
The turn to Miller Pond came up and from there it would be a short ride to our destination. “Stay on alert, brothers,” I said into my mouth piece. “You see anything, we hit the ground.” The closer we got to the sawmill, the narrower the dirt road became, grown over with grass and weeds. Trees towered high on both sides of the road, and were the perfect place to hole up for a sneak attack.
I could see the mill coming up in a small clearing. Years of harsh weather hadn’t been kind to the building, which had caved in on itself. One wall remained halfway up, seeming to support the rotten wood and windows that had finally given in to the inevitable. Another couple of years and there’d be nothing left but layers of dark, rotting wood and broken glass. Any equipment had been taken, sold, or stolen long ago.
Trick, his VP, Mud, and enforcer, Crabby, were waiting for us, sitting on their bikes, arms crossed, bulldog expressions on their hardened faces, eyes glittering. I automatically scanned the area, looking for signs of Slayers hiding in the ruins of the building or trees beyond. I didn’t see any, but I didn’t let down my guard. Maybe for once Trick was going to do the smart thing and play by the rules.
We came to a stop about a hundred feet from them. I braced my booted feet on the ground and crossed my arms. “I’m surprised you had the balls to show up.” I kept my eyes on Trick because I knew that any move from him would signal his men to act.
He reached up and slowly smoothed over his mustache, wiping the corners of his mouth down. It was a nervous gesture that he probably wasn’t aware that he made. “You fuckers demolished two of our holdings.”
I grinn
ed. “What did you expect after you burned down my bar, practically killed an employee, and took three of our women? That we were gonna roll over and play dead?” Whip and Becker laughed behind me. “You brought this shit on yourself.”
“Burning down our bar made us even.”
The man was a fucking moron. “No.” I snarled. “Your men didn’t play nice with our women. They pulled a train on one of them.”
“That wasn’t on my orders,” he grumbled. “Besides, I heard she didn’t mind it so much.” He grinned.
He was trying to piss me off, to get me to make a stupid move that would justify this turning into a fight, but I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. “You saying you don’t have control over your own club?”
His eyes narrowed as he clenched his jaw. Trick wasn’t as good at staying in control. “You have some fucking nerve,” he grated. “I’ve been the Slayers’ president since the beginning, you just took over Mad Dogs.”
I shrugged. “I’ve been VP for ten years. Far as I can tell, becoming president isn’t any different. You’re fucking lucky I decided to humor you by coming here when I should have just gone after your clubhouse and been done with it.”
Trick’s face turned red just as I’d known it would. He had a short fuse, and it was just a matter of time before he exploded, whether he had back-up hiding in the bushes or not. Mud and Crabby were getting antsy as the tension grew. I could tell, because they were squirming in their seats, clenching and unclenching their gloved hands. I wondered if they’d have the balls to reach for their weapons before Trick issued the order. Judging from recent events, it appeared that Trick didn’t have as much control over his men as he thought he did.
“You threatening us, threatening my club?” he growled in a cigarette roughened voice. He sat up and puffed out his chest in a show that he was a big man.
“That’s funny coming from you, considering we heard that the Slayers think Mad Dogs is a weak MC now. Heard you were gonna come in and just take over. If you can’t handle the fallout from your decisions you should have kept your fucking mouths shut and left us alone.”
I could see the truth in his face. He knew he’d fucked up. They weren’t strong enough to take our club over but they were dirty, conniving bastards, and had a reputation for fighting unfairly. MC’s didn’t go around shooting their mouths off when they were about to go to war. They worked out a plan and went in hot and strong. The Slayers were stupid fucks for advertising their intentions.
When I saw Crabby look nervously to the side, I knew that they hadn’t come alone. He was an idiot for giving it away. I trusted Whip and Becker to catch his subtle movement because they were good at their jobs. My brothers wouldn’t make a move though, unless the other side did first. None of us really wanted to end this in violence, we didn’t crave war like some of the old timers did. We’d spent the last five years building up our businesses and trying to stay on the right side of the law, but we still dealt with club shit the way we always had.
“Mad Dogs’ are a bunch of pussies,” Trick muttered before spitting on the ground.
I shrugged. “If you’re stupid enough to test your theory you’ll fucking lose,” I said with total confidence. “Now, stop wasting my time and tell me why you called a meet. I assume it wasn’t for a truce.”
“A truce?” He snorted, shrugging. “Just thought it was time the six of us met up for a little chat. Let you see who’d be taking over your positions in Mad Dogs.” Laughter behind me revealed that Whip and Becker had found Trick’s comment funny. No one on the Slayers side thought so, though. “Your women won’t be laughing when we show up instead of you.” His men chuckled at that, grabbing their dicks and making their intentions known. “Heard you have a new woman, too, nice piece of pussy. Can’t wait to get into that.”
They were fighting words, meant to push us into a reaction.
I was going to fucking kill him. I didn’t need to hear my brother’s low growls to know that they were just as pissed off by his threats to our women as I was. “You’ve just crossed the line, fucker.” I was done playing his game. “We’re done here.”
Trick sneered. “You’re done. You should have known better than to show up alone, just proves you’re not equipped to be fucking president.”
It was my turn to sneer. His expression sobered, and in that moment he knew that he’d misjudged me. As realization caught up with him the glare in his eyes hardened. I didn’t have to wonder for long if he was going to back out and take his loses, or if he would try and prove himself by taking us out. Trick was the kind of bastard who liked to attack from behind when he was sure he outnumbered the enemy. He liked to set things up to suit him. I’d known that when agreeing to the meeting.
“Make your move,” I challenged. It was my way of letting Trick know that I hadn’t underestimated him, that we were going to stand our ground and weren’t going to shoot first. Either way, this was fucking war. We were going to have to destroy the Slayers to be rid of their threat.
Today.
Tomorrow.
It didn’t matter when.
Mud and Crabby were visibly nervous and tense. Fuck, we all were. I knew that Whip and Becker’s trigger fingers were itching to reach for their weapons. Trick looked like a person backed into a corner, uneasy and full of angry energy. It was a showdown, three against three in the open, no telling how many back-up he’d brought. He was trying to figure it out, too, wondering how many we had hiding out of sight. I waited for him to make a decision, unconcerned with what that would be. I had good men behind me, brothers I could trust with my life.
Could Trick say the same?
He finally took a big breath and broke out in unexpected laughter. Mud and Crabby seemed to relax instantly, breathing easier while they looked at their president with narrow-eyed confusion. I guessed they’d been expecting a different reaction from him. I didn’t let my guard down, knowing what a sneaky bastard Trick was.
“What are we waiting for?” Crabby finally asked, speaking out of turn and proving my point that Trick wasn’t in control of his brothers. “I say we end the fuckers NOW.”
NOW was apparently the magic word. Someone fired a shot and then chaos broke out. As gunfire erupted from both sides, the six of us out in the open scrambled for cover. Becker, Whip, and I dragged our bikes backwards into the bushes and crouched behind them. Trick and his brothers abandoned their bikes and rushed toward the ruins of the mill, shooting blindly as they ran. Slayers came out of hiding like ants aiming for the only piece of food, making their way closer to the building. We were clearly outnumbered but I wasn’t worried, we had experience and skilled war vets on our side.
For what seemed like an eternity, but in reality lasted a mere five minutes, gunfire erupted all around, filling the air with blue smoke and flying debris when a shot went wild. I saw where Trick had gone and focused there, hoping the bastard showed his face long enough for me to take him out. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a Slayer crouching his way around to the side, trying to make his way behind us. I lined up the shot and fired.
“That’s my brother, you fucker!” someone hollered, and another Slayer made the mistake of revealing himself, running toward us with his gun blazing. One of my brothers took him out easily.
It was then that Trick made the mistake of poking his head up. My bullet grazed the side of his face and took off his ear. Screaming, he reached for his face and fell back.
“You’re dead, you fucker!” he screamed from his hiding spot.
I ignored him and continued firing. One of his brothers took a bullet to the chest. I heard a grunt behind me and swung my head to see Bug clutching his shoulder, which was already crimson with blood. He motioned that he was alright, and I turned back around in time to see another Slayer go down. A minute later the sound of sirens could be heard in the distance. We had about ten minutes to get out of there.
The Slayers, realizing it at the same time, began making their way back toward the trees, s
hooting at us as they moved.
I didn’t feel like facing any cops today. “Let’s go!”
We moved backwards, half-crouched, keeping our eyes on the retreating Slayers. A couple of them stopped to remove the cuts off their fallen brothers, leaving their bodies for the cops to find. I shook my head with disgust at their lack of respect for their own members.
“Anyone hurt besides Bug?” I mounted my bike, catching the murmurs of no and head shakes. I put my gaze on him. “You good to make it back to the club?” He gave me the thumbs up. “Good. Let’s ride!”
We left the area with the noise of thunder, leaving a trail of dust and flying rocks behind us. I led the way, my mind already working out the fucked up day and what it would mean for the club. We’d only agreed to rally with Trick because we’d wanted to know what he had to say. Always open to the suggestion of a ceasefire, I’d known that that wasn’t what he’d wanted. Still, it was good to know where you stood with the enemy, and sometimes the only way to do that was to have a conversation.
Trick was a stupid leader. It wouldn’t take long for the cops to connect the brothers that they’d left behind with their club. Would they implicate us? There was a code within outlaw MCs that you didn’t rat out another club. We had our own laws and dished out our own justice. If they got us involved, they’d become target practice for every other club out there. No one would do business with them. Their contacts would disappear. Word traveled fast. Trust was a big commodity in our world.
If they squealed, they’d sign their own death warrant.
Carnal Hunger Page 19
