“I agree. The problem is that he really is crazy. He does stupid shit, he’s totally unpredictable, and you never know what kind of off-the-wall stunt he’s going to pull. His mind isn’t right.”
“I don’t expect a tweaker’s head to be screwed on straight. I’m familiar with his brand of crazy, and I’m expecting the worst.”
“I’ll just be glad when this dysfunctional shit is over.”
Preacher chuckled, “We’re all dysfunctional, babe; he is just a crazier version of it.”
“You got that right, and I want the dysfunctional, crazy bastard out of my life.”
“I can arrange that,” he growled. “In fact, I’m arranging it as we speak.”
Chapter Eighteen
Preacher
The boys sat at the clubhouse in another church meeting. With all that was going on, they’d been having a lot of them. This time, things were different because a woman was participating. Preacher had called Daisy so she could give them the layout of the Hell’s Demons’ house. She would only be here long enough to draw a blueprint, and then she would be ordered to leave. Club rules said no women or prospects in church.
Daisy sat and meticulously drew out what could’ve passed for a professional blueprint of the building. She sure was taking her part in the operation seriously. It looked like she wanted every nook and cranny of that house accounted for so there would be no surprises.
Preacher watched with pride as she addressed his brothers.
“Okay, when you enter the clubhouse, there is a dining room on the right and the kitchen is on the left. You’ve got the hallway here and a bedroom on the left. In that bedroom, the master bath is here, on the right. When you go through this door here,” she took a moment to look up and ensure the members were looking where she was pointing with a pencil. “When you go through this hallway here, there is a garage they turned into a large, den type area. Out through this door, is the shop.”
“Well, it looks like we don’t have a whole lot of area to cover,” Tiny said.
Daisy looked up as she spoke to him, “Their clubhouse is nothing like the layout here. It’s a small dump of a house. This place is a fucking fortress.”
Preacher laughed, “Yeah, we take our security seriously.” He eyed Daisy and changed the subject, “How many members are there?”
“He has dwindled down to fifteen members. With having Ricky on your side when you go in, that makes fourteen.”
Preacher looked over when Tiny spoke up. “We go in tonight. We’ll keep Daisy, Raven, and Red at home; I don’t want ‘em at work. I want them locked in here, behind the gates where I know they’re safe.”
Sergeant at Arms, how are you handling this?” Tiny directed his attention towards Scooter.
Preacher watched as Scooter began talking. Amazingly enough, though the guy was painfully shy, this was where he excelled. When it came to strategizing and working up a battle plan, there was no one better than Scooter. The club was lucky to have him.
“Okay, the first thing we do is go in with one group in the front and one in that back area. Go in loud, just like the police. It’ll create chaos and confusion, and that’ll help knock them off their game.”
“What are you, an ex-cop or something?” one of the boys teased.
“Nah, military training,” he laughed.
“Hold on a minute,” Tiny said, holding up a finger. “What if we did this takedown like it was a bust? We use Derrick and let ICE have the drugs, but we get the money.”
Talon spoke up, “You’ve got a good point. If we use our boys, along with him and Justine, that may just work.”
“Get Derrick on the phone, Talon.”
Preacher leaned down and whispered in Daisy’s ear, “Get out of here. You did good but the less you know, the safer you’ll be, and I don’t want you hearing this phone call. I’m proud of ya, babe.” He kissed her on the cheek and waited until she was gone before he closed the door and gave the boys the okay to call Derrick.
Preacher watched as Talon dialed the number and put it on speakerphone.
“Derrick, go somewhere you can talk. You’re on speakerphone here at church.”
The boys waited while assuming Derrick was going somewhere more private to talk.
“What’s up, Talon?”
“We’ve got a situation with Hell’s Demons.”
“Fuckin’ meth heads, what have they done now?”
“They’ve got a shipment coming in, and we thought maybe you’d like to get in on the bust. We take the cash, and you get the meth bust.”
“Fuck yeah, Justine and I would love to take that group down.”
Well, you already know we boys aren’t in the habit of calling the police on people, but this is a club thing not a police thing.”
“Hey, you know Justine and I are always down with you guys; it’s club first, man.”
Talon spent the next few minutes setting up the midnight takedown and making sure Derrick knew the address. Unsurprisingly, Derrick was already well aware of where the rival club was located.
“Been good talking to you, bro. We’re looking forward to seeing you guys.”
“It’ll just be me and Justine on this. We’re doing this on the down low as club business and not a bust. I’ll just say we happened up on the deal when my boss asks how it went down.”
“Wear your bulletproof vests because we will be. We aren’t taking any chances with these crazies.”
“I hear that. We’ll see you guys later.”
Daisy
Daisy sat in Raven’s bedroom, nursing a cup of coffee as she filled the girls in on what little she knew.
“Well, they are keeping us home from work tonight, and they called some guy named Derrick in to help.”
“Yeah, that’s actually good. Derrick is an ICE agent, but he’s also a club member. The boys are probably going to take the money they find and give him and his partner the drugs so it looks like a drug bust.”
“Preacher made me leave when they called the guy.”
Raven chuckled, “You know how the guys are; they don’t let us in on all the club business.” The girls laughed and spoke in low growls, mimicking the brothers, “No bitches in on club business.”
“That’s just fine by me, ladies. I don’t want in on it. Ignorance is bliss,” Daisy chuckled.
“Well, that’s their way of thinking. The less we know, the safer we are.”
Red busted out laughing, “Yeah, they’re not the totally arrogant, asshole chauvinists the public assumes they are. There’s a reason they do what they do.”
“Yeah, and we aren’t the brainwashed doormats they perceive us to be,” Raven laughed.
Daisy shook her head with a serious look on her face. “I don’t give a fuck what the public thinks. I want my man safe and all this shit done. It’s stressing me out. I can’t eat, I can barely sleep, and Preacher’s safety is always in the forefront of my mind. I hate being afraid.”
“Girl, when it comes to these guys, you don’t have to be afraid. I can assure you, Hell’s Demons are the ones who need to be afraid right now.”
“It isn’t that kind of fear. It’s the kind that gnaws at your gut and tells you something bad is about to happen to fuck up your happily ever after. I’m terrified the life I’m experiencing now is too good to be true. I just have this feeling it’s all about to be taken away from me.”
Red reached over and took Daisy’s hand. “Sweetie, that sounds like it’s coming from past childhood trauma.”
“Oh my gosh,” Raven busted out laughing. “When did you become a headshrinker?”
“It’s my psych degree coming out.”
“I didn’t know you had one.”
“Yes, I do. I’ll have you know I have broken through the clichés of society. I’m not an uneducated, dropout, loser, biker chick. I’m here because I want to be, not because I have to be.”
“Looks like society has the biker lifestyle all wrong then,” Daisy laughed.
“They do have us pegged all wrong. It’s always the same old typical, or rather stereotypical, bullshit that society dishes out. We’re one-percenters. We don’t want the nine to five desk jobs.”
“Hell yeah, baby, ride free and live free; that’s our motto,” Red shouted.
“I’m all for that!” Daisy agreed. I want to live my life free and happy with my old man and the club. That’s the reason I want to see all of this Billy drama finished.”
“The guys will come through for us. We’ll be fine. Half of the members here are ex-military, and they will use all of that knowledge and training when they take down that rival club tonight,” Raven reassured her. “By this time tomorrow, we’ll be home free and all your problems will be solved.”
“I hope so, Raven. I really hope so.” Daisy fought back the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes. She also pushed away the guilt she’d been consumed with ever since Dauntless MC got mixed up in this shit storm of problems—problems that were hers that had now become theirs. They were family. It was all for one and one for all, so she knew they didn’t blame her. The way they saw it, because she was now part of the Dauntless MC family, it was the club’s problem. She’d never had a real family before, and she didn’t want to lose the one she had now. Being with Billy had been like being in prison, and she’d never known the security of having a true family that had your back. The same way they had hers, she had theirs, and she’d do anything to keep them.
Chapter Nineteen
Preacher
Preacher pulled the bulletproof vest over his head. It had the Dauntless MC patch on the back and his name and Captain title on the front, per Tiny’s orders. Even though the vests were worn under their kuttes, Tiny liked everything they donned to bear the Dauntless insignia.
His job of Captain meant he was responsible for overseeing smaller club chapters in the surrounding areas of Kentucky. He also worked quite a bit delegating jobs to prospects. All prospects, in and around the Louisville, Kentucky chapter, answered to him.
After he got dressed, Preacher went out of his way to block out his old lady, who was sitting on the bed watching him. He methodically strapped a gun to his side, and another went into an ankle holster above his boot. A knife, sharp enough to slice through flesh like hot butter, went in his opposite boot.
He hadn’t told her, or anyone else for that matter, but tonight, that little dirt bag, Billy, was going to pay for every beating he’d made Daisy endure. He wasn’t the type of man to forgive and forget. Even his own father hadn’t been exempt, and Preacher had made the old man pay for what he’d put him through. His mind went back to the night he had exacted his revenge.
The lighting was dim in the cellar where he’d brought his father to get even for the hell he had put him through.
He circled the chair where his father was restrained and tried to ignore the man’s belligerent, drunken ranting.
“You fucking ungrateful son of a bitch. After all your mother and I did for you…”
“Here, Dad, have a drink,” he roughly squeezed his father’s cheeks and poured whiskey into his mouth faster than he could swallow, causing him to sputter and choke on the amber colored liquid. Even though the son of a bitch was choking on it, he was still lapping it up like the drunken dog he was.
“We’re going to play a game, dad. You remember this game, don’t you?” he taunted, spinning the chamber on his gun that housed only one bullet. Fate would decide whether it would be the one to kill the old man, who had brought the boy nothing but pain.
“Please, son, it wasn’t that bad. I never molested you or anything like that.”
His words had become slurred and whiney, and it only infuriated Preacher more.
“Shut the fuck up and have another drink, dear old dad.”
He sputtered and choked but, once again, managed to hold down the liquor he craved.
“You’re a fucking drunk, a worthless fucking drunk.”
He held the gun to the man’s temple, relishing in the unmistakable fear easily read on his weathered face.
Click, but no boom.
“Fuck, son, you can’t kill your own father.” The man started to beg after he realized the boy he had raised, who was now a man, was serious about forcing him to play this morbid game.
“Beg, Dad. Beg like I did when you held a gun to my head until I was so terrified, I pissed on myself, and then you laughed about it.
The old man’s head bobbed against his chest in his inebriated state.
“Wakey, wakey, you worthless motherfucker.” The butt of the gun slamming into his temple straightened him up immediately. His cry of anguished pain echoed off the walls and quickly morphed into pleas for mercy.
“Please, son, please.”
“Piss on yourself,” Preacher’s eyes cut through him without emotion.
“What?”
“Motherfucker, if you want to live, you’ll piss in your pants right now!” Another click of the gun against his temple was all it took to convince his father, especially when Preacher solidified things with his next statement. “You’re running out of chances because I’m not opening that chamber and spinning it around again. I’m hoping the next shot is the bullet that kills you.”
He stood in front of his tied up, blubbering father and watched as the man pissed on himself. That was the last time he ever saw the son of a bitch. He doubted the dumb ass would even remember what happened the next day, but Preacher didn’t care because he had exacted his revenge.
Daisy’s voice cut through his thoughts.
“I love you. You fucking made me fall in love with you. If you get yourself killed tonight, I swear I’ll kill ya again.”
He laughed and made his way over to her.
“You’re a miracle worker, my little angel. You took a hardened man, who was incapable of loving, and made me love for the first time in my life. I love you too. I have no intention of dying tonight. That’s why I’m wearing this fashion statement. It covers all my vital organs,” he stated, running his hands over the bulletproof vest.
“That’s a pretty smart idea. Who came up with it?”
“Derrick, the ICE agent, brought us all vests a long time ago. Now that is one crazy motherfucker. I don’t think I’ve ever met a man who is as addicted to the adrenaline rush as that man is, and his old lady is just as crazy.”
“Is she his partner?”
“Oh yeah, they’re together in more ways than one. That woman is his everything, just like you’re mine. I’m coming home to you, babe… alive.”
Chapter Twenty
Preacher
As Captain of the club, part of Preacher’s job was to make sure all the prospects were lined out and knew their responsibilities for the night. The main one tonight would be to keep the old ladies safe and protected.
The sound of thirty bikes starting up at once sounded like music to Preacher’s ears. He lived to ride. The fact that, tonight, he was going to exact revenge, made it even sweeter. He knew his baby girl was safe behind the compound’s metal gates, and his mind was free and ready to conduct business.
The plan was to meet up with Derrick and his partner and get their bikes parked in a wooded area far enough away so they wouldn’t alert the Hell’s Demons with the rumbling motors of thirty Harleys. Preacher used the riding time on River Road’s straightaway to clear the cobwebs out of his head. Nothing put him at ease like the freedom of the open road. It didn’t matter how long a road trip was, it was never long enough.
Preacher watched from the shadows of where he and his brothers were hidden. He was a part of the group that would go in first. They had stationed teams around the house in a well thought out plan to take these boys down as quickly and as efficiently as possible.
Derrick’s partner and old lady sauntered up to the house like she was there to cop some drugs. The girl had dressed the part too. She wore skin-tight jeans and a midriff top. It made him wonder where the girl had put her gun. He could hear her voice from where
he was standing, and her partner was over to the side, waiting for the door to open.
“Hey, baby, I know you got what I need.”
He could see a small, metal door open, leaving only enough room for someone to see outside. He couldn’t hear anything, but as soon as the door opened, Derrick had pushed his gun in a man’s face and was saying, “Get down! This is a bust!”
He pulled his ski mask down over his face, and the other men followed suit as they quickly made their way to the door. Their timing was impeccable, and when Preacher saw the money laid out on the table along with the drugs, ready for the exchange, he knew Ricky’s information had been spot on.
“Everybody against the fucking wall!” Derrick yelled.
Preacher grabbed the zip ties from his pocket and handed them over to the one prospect he had brought with him, commanding him to start binding the opposing member’s wrists behind their backs. The prospect quickly walked over to carry out the order while his brothers started to fill duffel bags with money, using a sweeping motion with their arms across the table.
“Which one of you assholes is Billy? I start shooting motherfuckers if you don’t tell me,” Preacher yelled.
Two or three of the Hell’s Demons yelled out that he was down on the end. Preacher checked his front patch and made sure he had the right guy before he commenced in pistol-whipping the boy. He used the butt of his gun to crash down on the boy’s cheek and took morbid pleasure in watching the skin slice open down to the bone. Billy’s terrified screams lasted until he collapsed in a heap on the floor, unconscious from the beating.
Preacher walked up behind Ricky and viciously grabbed a handful of his hair. “You’re coming with me, motherfucker.”
Ricky’s voice could be heard, crying out, “You can’t just kidnap me, man.”
“The fuck I can’t.”
Preacher could hear Derrick’s voice over the screams and sobs of battered members.
“Get the fuck out of here, guys.”
“You got it. We’ll talk to you later.”
With that, the Dauntless MC members made tracks to their bikes.
Perilous (Dauntless MC Book 2) Page 7
