“Especially one percent clubs,” Angel added. I stared at her, silently begging for more information. She looked at Della for permission to say more. Again, they seemed to communicate through a look. “Mad Dogs’ is a one percent club. Not as bad as others but−”
“What does that mean?”
Della took over. “It means they follow their own rules and laws within the club. When trouble comes they work it out on their own without getting the law involved. And they don’t rat each other out, no matter how much they hate each other.”
“It’s kind of a code,” Foxy said, taking a drink of what I assumed was coffee. “They’re outlaws.”
I thought about what they’d said for a minute. “Does this mean the police won’t be notified that Penny’s been kidnapped?”
All three shook their heads. “The police are never involved, unless it’s absolutely necessary.”
“Then how are they going to explain Shooter’s injuries to the police?” I questioned. “They took him to the hospital. The doctor’s are required by law to notify the police when they get a gunshot victim.”
The sadness that enveloped the table was tangible. “Usually the club doctor handles all club injuries, here at the club. If Shooter was bad enough to be taken to the hospital than VD was worried that he won’t make it. In situations like that he will call the sheriff.”
I frowned. Something about that statement just didn’t sit right with me.
Angel touched the back of my hand gently. “The sheriff’s office is on our payroll.”
Now I understood. “A crooked police department?”
“Not really,” Della responded. “It’s kind of a ‘you scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours’ partnership. Brewer is a small town, and Mad Dogs has done a lot to keep it safe and clean by keeping out trash like the Slayers, the club they’re having trouble with now. The police department is happy they don’t have to deal with MC trouble, along with everything else they have on their plates. Our club members run a lot of business out of Brewer, too, offering the kind of services the community needs.”
“Plus we make huge donations to the town.”
“To the sheriff’s department,” I said with a wry twist on my lips.
“They’re just one department who reaps the benefits of leaving us alone.”
“How do you know that they’ll get Penny back?”
“They have their ways, honey.”
God, I prayed that they did.
Chapter 23
VD
Fucking hell, what a mess! I couldn’t go after Penny until I saw to Shooter first. He was a brother and I knew that his wounds, especially the one near his heart, were life threatening. I wasn’t about to let a loyal brother die alone, without his club there with him. Thank fuck Ollie and Billy had already infiltrated the Slayers’ club and were on the inside. Ollie’s plan had worked like a fucking charm. I’d ordered Whip to get a message to one of them to be on the lookout for Penny. If they were in a position to get her out of there before we made a move, all the better. Their cover would be blown, but it would no longer matter.
The Slayers were gonna be dead, all of them.
I tried not to think about Dickie and my silent promise to him at his gravesite. Christ, I’d already failed! And that left a bitter taste in my mouth. I was going to wipe out every one of the Slayers for singling out our women, especially Penny. She was club royalty. Just like Iris was going to be, if I had my way. Trick was worried about his clubhouse? By the time we were done he wouldn’t know what hit him. We would go in shooting, toss a few well-placed Molotov cocktails, and boom! No more fucking Slayers.
No more trouble.
Dealing with Sheriff Thomas was another issue I’d had to deal with before leaving Penny’s house. Soon after the ambulance had arrived, he and two squad cars had followed. He knew that shit must be bad if we were sending a brother to the hospital. I’d given him some cock-and-bull story about a home invasion, leaving Odie and the Slayers out of it. I knew by the raising of his brow that he didn’t buy a single word of it.
I didn’t care.
He asked what had happened to Shooter and I’d told him that he’d been there to check up on Dickie’s widow and to make sure that she didn’t need anything. Finding the door unlocked, he’d gone in after giving the customary knock, only to find that neither of the women were home. The next thing he knew, two masked men were busting through the door, shooting at anything that moved. When the sheriff asked where the ladies were I told him the truth, at least as much of the truth as I could. Iris was waiting for me at the clubhouse, and Penny had gone for her first bike ride with a brother. Shooter had barely been conscious long enough to tell us what had happened.
One of the sheriff’s officers had written down everything that I said while the sheriff and I stared gravely at each other. I noticed another cop scouring the area, as if looking for something, kicking at a couple of weeds. He wouldn’t find any shells because I’d had the boys pick them up before they’d arrived. Tire impressions of our bikes were everywhere, so that wouldn’t give him any evidence that other bikers had been there.
I hadn’t worried when he’d insisted on looking inside the house. Sure, the place was shot up, but he’d already known that Shooter had been inside when the shooting happened. He stepped inside the doorway and looked around from there before nodding, as if he were satisfied with my story. At the very least it was viable, and would make his paperwork easy.
“I’ll need to talk to Shooter when he’s able.” By then I would have made sure that Shooter had the same story to spiel. “I’ll be in touch if we have any further questions,” he continued, while walking down the porch steps. He turned slightly at the bottom and looked up at me. “I take it that you can produce both women if I need to talk to them?”
I’d given him a nod because I planned on getting Penny back.
This brought me to the present moment. I glanced at the clock. We’d been sitting at the hospital, waiting for news on Shooter for five hours, when they’d first rushed Shooter into the room for emergency surgery. No one, not even a fucking nurse, had poked their head into the room to give us any updates.
“This is fucking insane!” Whip grumbled. He stood up and went over to the soda machine.
We were all feeling antsy, worried for Shooter and in a hurry to take care of shit and get Penny back. The longer the Slayers had her, the worse it could be for her. I didn’t even want to think about what they could be doing to her right now, considering what we’d walked into when we’d gone to retrieve the club girls. She was too naive, too ignorant of what to expect, and this whole fucking mess could destroy her mentally and physically.
“Come on, man, what the fuck is taking so long?” Demon snarled.
“No news is good news,” Dobie said, getting a scowl from Demon.
As Whip was taking a sip of his cola his cell buzzed. He glanced down at it, and then over at me. “It’s Billy.” He put the phone to his ear. “Yeah, man?”
I watched his face as he listened to what Billy had to say, nodding his head while not saying anything. That went on for about a minute before Whip murmured a low, inaudible response, shut his phone down, and jammed it back into his pocket. “Penny’s at their clubhouse, brothers.”
“He said more than that,” I snapped, impatient.
Whip’s grin was more of a smirk. “Yeah. She’s been locked up in the cellar. He and Ollie have been given the job of watching her.” Laughter echoed throughout the room.
“Trick’s slipping, brothers. Giving two newcomers a job like that?” Corky sniggered. “Maybe the booze and drugs have finally warped his pea brain.”
“I’m telling you, he’s not in control of his club anymore,” Becker commented. “His brothers are making decisions without him, doing shit behind his back.”
“Maybe you shot off more than his ear the other day.”
I didn’t care about any of that right then. “Did he say how she looked?”
“H
e couldn’t talk long. Said they were being watched, too, cause they’re on fucking probation.”
“Fuck, that’s gonna be an easy rescue,” Demon began, drawing everyone’s attention. “That night we went for the girls we snuck right up to the back of their clubhouse.”
“Yeah, but they’ll be expecting us to show up there, brother. There’s nowhere else they can take her.”
“We need to move fast,” Whip said. “We owe it to Dickie.”
We all agreed on that count. “This isn’t just about a rescue,” I spoke up. “I’m tired of these fuckers messing with our club, our families, going after our women. They think we’ve become weak because Dickie is gone. We need to show them that we’re as strong as ever. We don’t need booze and drugs to motivate us, or give us courage to fight. We go in for Penny, but we don’t leave until we end the Slayers and burn their fucking clubhouse to the ground.”
The room grew quiet as my words sunk in. I’d just said shit that was usually saved for church, but we didn’t have time for church. Once I knew Shooter’s outcome we were going to war. I didn’t want to wait to go for Penny. I didn’t want her with the Slayers any longer than she had to be.
The door opened, and a doctor walked into the room. “Mark Simpson’s family?” His gaze made a sweep of the room.
“All of us, doc,” I replied, standing. My brothers did the same, surrounding the doctor, who wasn’t a very big man.
We were all six feet or over and muscled up from working out or from just plain hard work. Dressed in biker gear, we presented a frightening presence that usually had regular folks running the other way. We dwarfed over the man, who was wearing surgical scrubs covered in what I assumed was Shooter’s blood. It was obvious that he’d come straight from surgery.
Glancing at each of us, he cleared his throat nervously. “Ah, your friend lost a lot of blood, we had to give him three pints. One bullet was close to his heart, and he coded twice on the table, which is why the surgery lasted so long. It’s too soon to say with a hundred percent certainty that he’ll recover, but he has a good chance. The next couple of days will tell us more.” He paused to take a breath. “He’s in an induced coma and in intensive care, so he won’t know that you’re there if you decide to go in.” He cleared his throat.
“We can see him now?” Becker asked.
“Well, he’s in recovery right now. Once he’s moved you’ll be able to go in two at a time. Does anyone have any questions?”
No one spoke up.
“Thanks, doc.” He nodded and left the room. Some of us released a breath of relief. “No sense in waiting around to see a sleeping man. We know Shooter’s good for now and we’ve got shit to do.”
“We just gonna show up there?” Roland asked.
“Fuck, no.” I looked at Whip. “Get a message to Billy and tell him we’re on our way. He and Ollie are to do whatever it takes to protect Penny, even if it means barricading themselves in the cellar. We’ll let him know when we reach the clubhouse.”
Becker snorted. “What a way to blow their fucking cover.”
“After tonight it won’t matter, brothers. Time to end these fuckers. Let’s ride!”
We walked through the hospital to our bikes with purpose. Except for a couple of young nurses smiling shyly at us, no one dared to say anything, much less get in our way. I knew with every step my brothers took that they were revving up inside for the fight ahead. They knew that if we didn’t stop the Slayers they were going to keep coming back, threatening our peace.
The Slayers’ justification that we’d been crippled by Dickie’s departure was just an excuse anyway, and a weak one at that. We’d shown them time and time again that they couldn’t take us out. Corky was right, their brains were fried from too much booze and drugs. The club had been spiraling downhill for a long time. Trick had lost control, letting his brothers get away with making bad decisions and stupid choices.
We’d have to move in fast and hot to do the damage that we wanted, and then get the hell out of there. They’d be expecting retaliation, but we had one element of surprise on our side-- Billy and Ollie. I was going to get Penny back to her sister tonight, or die trying.
I thought about Iris waiting for me in my room. We hadn’t spent much time together lately, and I intended to make up for that, starting with a long, hot fuck. Being around her calmed me inside, kept the monster at bay.
And I was a mean mother when my club and my brothers were threatened.
She still had a lot to learn about me. It fucking made me happy to hear her say that she wanted to know what was happening in my club. It would make life easier for us. I’d never thought that I’d be thinking about a life with someone after the fuck-up with Trish, but the instant I’d locked eyes with Iris I’d known that I wanted another shot at finding the kind of life some of my brothers had found. Demon, Whip, Corky, Roland, Dobie, and Becker had all found happiness with their women, and so had Dickie.
We parked our bikes away from the Slayers’ clubhouse, behind an abandoned garage. “We go in the front,” I began, once we were all standing around. “They know we’re coming, they just don’t know when, but they’ll be on alert. They’ll probably have the back covered this time. We walk straight in the front door and shoot at any Slayers cut that moves.”
“I’m texting Billy now,” Whip said, looking down at his phone.
“Dobie and Demon, you make your way down to the cellar for Penny.”
“They’re ready.” Whip put his phone away. “They’re right outside her door. No one’s been down to see her since they locked her up.”
“Okay, brothers, let’s go.”
We withdrew our weapons and went into stealth mode, staying close to the building as we made our way to the front. Luck was on our side because it was a dark, moonless night and there were no street lights. They were in a shitty, rundown part of town so everything was dark. As I rounded the corner of the clubhouse, I noticed that the light above the front door was dim and yellow, barely giving light to the one man that was manning the door. His face lit up briefly when he struck a match to the cigarette in his mouth. I didn’t hesitate in putting a bullet into him. He slammed against the door, and I shot him again, satisfied when he crumbled to the ground.
I knew we’d have to move fast after that, and without hesitation. We rushed to the door, kicked his body aside, and yanked the door open. The people inside were already scrambling for cover. Slayers were withdrawing their guns. I saw the bartender duck behind the bar, and a couple of screaming bar girls followed suit. Gunfire erupted as we charged through their clubhouse like warriors, shooting any Slayers in our way. When the bartender poked his head up again, with a gun in his hand, I fired, hitting him between the eyes.
I saw Trick and some of his brother’s swing around, throw open a door, and disappear inside. Shit, my gut was telling me that it was the cellar door, where Demon and Dobie were supposed to be heading. I could hear their boots pounding down the old wooden stairs. I headed in that direction and glanced down into the black void, feeling around for a light switch. I flipped it several times, but nothing happened. Someone from below fired, and I ducked back as the doorjamb splintered right beside my head, some of the flying pieces hitting my cheek. Fuck, that had been close!
Then I heard more gunfire from below, but it sounded further away, and I realized that Trick had just found out that Billy and Ollie were on our side. And they were sitting ducks! Decision made, I entered the doorway again, firing blindly as I felt my way down the narrow steps. The damp, musty smell of the cellar enveloped me, but wasn’t nearly as dangerous as walking into the pitch black that I found myself in.
The sounds of feet stomping behind me revealed that some of my brothers had followed. “Where the fuck is the light?” I heard Whip swear.
“Follow the sound of gunfire!” I shouted, heading in that direction. The large, cave-like room we were in led us down a narrow passageway, and, thank fuck, toward a light. As we grew nearer to ano
ther, smaller room, I slowed down.
Trick knew that we were behind him. I stuck my head out to take a look, being shot at for the second time, but not before I noticed him and at least three of his men positioned to shoot in our direction. Where were Ollie and Billy?
“Billy? Ollie?” I called out, staying out of sight.
“Pussies ran!” Trick shouted back.
I knew that was a lie. Without looking, I reached back and grabbed the cut of the nearest brother, pulling him closer. “Cover me.” I wanted to get a good look at the door that they were guarding without getting my head shot off.
Whip released half a dozen shots in rapid succession, giving me enough time to make it out of the hallway and all the way into the room. I crouched behind a barrel for cover. None of the Slayers had been brave enough to return fire until Whip had ceased shooting. I peered around the barrel at the door they were positioned in front of. As I’d suspected, the padlock had been broken open. I knew Billy and Ollie had barricaded themselves inside with Penny.
I breathed a sigh of relief and knew what we had to do. We didn’t have time to waste. The sound of any one of the shots could have alerted someone living close by into calling the cops. Most of the time civilians didn’t get involved, just turned their lights off and hid out in their homes until it grew quiet, but all it would take was one asshole to bring the cops down on us. We needed to make our move now and then get the hell out of there. Some of us might die.
Some of us would die.
“Now, brothers!” I shouted, giving away my spot and drawing fire from the Slayers. At the same time my brothers crowded into the room, firing their own weapons. Now it was a full- on fight, no-holds-barred, a firestorm filling the cellar with smoke and the acrid smell of burnt metal. Even though my brothers were out in the open we were forcing the Slayers back, until they had nowhere to go. One of them tried to pry the door open where Penny was, but he was quickly ended by a bullet.
“Ok, ok!” One of the Slayers held his hands up in a show of surrender, but one of my brothers took care of him.
Carnal Hunger Page 21
