Then the door opened and the night beyond was obscured by the massive body of Paul, with her father and Terry behind him.
Chapter Twenty-One
“They’ve taken Ash.”
The words hung between the two men, hovering over the table like a demonic spirit.
“They’ve taken my girl?” Samuel’s face had been a mask of horror, white as a sheet; but now it was filling with violent rage. “Who’s got her? Who made that call?”
Paul’s mind was going crazy in a way he’d never known. He needed to find some calm and focus. “That was Spike. Says he’s got Ash at the Traveler’s Rest Motel. That’s where the Rabids are stayin’. Said I needed to bring you and Terry over, room eight, dead or alive, he didn’t much care.”
Samuel was quiet. Paul could almost see his mind twisting the problem, untangling the knots, figuring out the logistics. Eventually he spoke. “We need everyone here. We need the full table. We need to get her back and we need numbers if we’re takin on all the Rabids and some of the Tails. No way Spike’s here alone.”
“I don’t disagree, but Pres,” Paul hated that Samuel flinched when he gave him his title, “It may be that not all the Rabids were in on this. They weren’t all in on the plan to kill you and Terry when I left, and I don’t think any of them knew about the plan to be patched over to the Tails.”
Samuel shook his head. “We can’t know where they’re at now. Jimmy may have got the full table on board with his plan.”
“And what if they didn’t know? Are we gonna kill them all?” Paul couldn’t believe that Rabbit or Cross would have voted for this plan and it sat badly with him that they might be about to deprive a kid, Cross’s little girl, of her only remaining parent.
“You’re showin’ loyalty to the wrong club.” Samuel’s voice was flat, but Paul could see that his rage was peaking off the scale.
“All I’m sayin’ is that some of those boys might be bein’ sold out without their knowin’. This wasn’t a club-sanctioned hit when it was given. They never put it to the vote, and I don’t think they intended to be up front and democratic about the patch over to the Tails. We might have some allies there.”
Samuel turned that possibility over some. “We’ll let the table think on that.”
“It’s your call, Pres.”
Samuel pulled his phone out of the pocket of his kutte, but before he placed any calls he looked at Paul appraisingly. “They might kill you tonight, you know.”
Paul nodded. He knew the risk he was taking. He’d been prepared to receive a death sentence when he’d ridden over. “They might, but I’d like a chance to help you get Ash back before they do.”
“Does my girl know about any of this? What you were here to do to me? What you’re here doin’ tonight?”
“No. I didn’t lie when I said I left her sleepin’. She’s got no idea.”
“If they want you dead, it’ll break her heart.” Samuel was still looking at him with a curious expression, maybe he wondered how far Paul was prepared to go. Paul was prepared to go all the way.
Paul couldn’t keep the despondency from his tone. “It’ll be broke one way or the other. If they let me live, I wouldn’t keep this from her. I won’t lie to her. She won’t forgive me.”
Samuel nodded. “Go and get Fletch and Morse. I think Chiz, Crash and Kong are in the dorms, too. I’ll call Terry, Tag and Sinatra.”
Paul nodded his agreement and went to fetch the members that were sleeping in the clubhouse. He’d known exactly what he risked, and he hadn’t changed his mind about paying the full price. He took a deep breath and stiffened his spine as he knocked on Chiz’s dorm door and focused on the fact that Ashleigh was in danger and that he had to get her back before he worried about anything else.
~o0o~
Within half an hour all the members of the Priests MC were in their seats at the table. Some heavy drinking had taken place that day, but there was no evidence of that. Eyes that had been bleary were now sharp, waiting to be told what the emergency was and what they needed to do. They were all looking to Samuel, all except Chiz. Paul knew that Chiz could see there was something off with him and he was trying to figure it out. He wouldn’t have to wait long.
Samuel didn’t bother with the gavel. The room was silent and everyone was waiting for him to speak. He leaned forward, his clasped hands, the knuckles pale, resting on the solid wood.
“We have a situation. It needs resolving tonight. I’ll try and be brief, but I need you all to stay quiet and hear me out. We’re short on time. First off, Shark came here tonight to tell me that he’s been here on a mission to assassinate me and Terry.”
There were shocked exclamations and curses around the table. Every head turned towards Paul. He would not look away from the expressions of confusion, anger and hurt that were turned his way, but he was sorrier than he could say to see every one of them. Chiz had shoved his chair back from the table in disgust; Paul couldn’t blame him one bit. Samuel slapped the palm of his hand down hard to get everyone’s attention back.
“He swears to me he wasn’t involved in any of the attempts that have been made on my life. He swears he wasn’t behind Dean’s death and I believe him.”
“Who was?” The question came from Dizzy.
“We know the Mexicans were behind Dean and the shooting at the fundraiser. Geoff confessed that much and I believe that Paul had no hand in it. The Satan’s Tails want to patch over the Rabids, and the Rabids are on board with this, and they want to wipe us out and take over the run for the Rojas. If the Rojas won’t have them, they’ll climb in bed with the Mexicans. Either way. It was Jimmy that sent Paul after us with Spike pullin’ his strings.”
“That fuckin’ backstabbin’ cunt has been pretendin’ to grieve with us all day!” Kong gave full vent to his outrage.
“I know. I know. We don’t know how many of the club are on board with this. Shark tells me not all of them knew about this plan, but things might have changed since then. For all we know the whole lot of ‘em have been showin’ us two faces all day.”
“So Spike was behind runnin’ you off the road?” Dizzy was seeking confirmation rather than asking an outright question.
“Seems so.” Samuel replied.
“So what’s happened that you called us all in here and now? We dealin’ with this tonight?”
“What happened is that when Paul came to confess to me what had been goin’ on, he got a call. From Spike. They’ve taken Ashleigh.”
The gasps and curses rippled around the table again and again Samuel slapped his hand down to call for silence.
“They’ve taken my girl and they want Shark to deliver Terry and me for her.”
Dizzy’s face was blank of all emotion. Paul didn’t even want to guess what the man was feeling, but he knew he was doing his job as SAA, he was concentrating on the job at hand, finding them a path of action.
“We get Tink back. Then we deal with Shark.” He turned to Paul. “That’s if you can be trusted. Maybe this is some fucked up plot to get us out in the open.”
Samuel spoke before Paul could. “It isn’t. I was sittin’ right here when the call came through. He’s as worried about her as I am.”
Paul was grateful for Samuel’s intervention. He knew he had no hope of convincing every man sitting at this table that he was being honest with them now without it. “I came here tonight to tell Samuel the truth and to accept the judgment of this table,” he looked around, making sure to catch everyone’s eye, “whatever that may be. I’m still ready to do that. But we need to get Ash back first.” He had to clench his fist against the fury that was sticking in his throat at the thought that she might be being hurt somewhere while they were sat debating his intentions.
Samuel spoke up again. “We need to focus. We’re runnin’ out of time. They think that Paul’s persuadin’ me and Terry to follow him, or that he’s killing us and draggin’ our cold, dead bodies over to the Traveler’s Rest Motel as we speak. They sa
id room eight. That’s as much intel as we’ve got at the moment.”
“So we’re talkin’,” Dizzy paused, “eight Rabids, Spike and I’m guessin’ at least one more, that’s at least ten men waitin’ for the nine of us.”
“No.” Paul said, causing all the heads to turn his way again. “They don’t know you all know I was s’posed to be betrayin’ this club. They’re only expectin’ me, Terry and Samuel.”
When Crash spoke, all the heads swiveled in his direction. “You need decoy and flankin.”
Dizzy nodded his approval. “Good call, brother. The decoy is Paul takin’ Samuel and Terry as promised.” He paused and looked at his hands as he tapped his fingers on the table in no discernible rhythm. When he looked up, he looked at Samuel and Terry. “Shark’ll be takin’ you to the main players. It’ll be up to the three of you, the two of you, to take them out. Me, Chiz and Crash will take care of the rest. Fletch and Kong should stay on Moira and Dolly. Morse can stay here, be our contact if we need him. You get them to let you set eyes on Tink. We need proof our girl’s alive, and we need to know where she is. Sinatra and Tag concentrate on gettin’ her.”
Dizzy glanced at Paul, then looked back at Samuel and Terry. “I don’t see that we’re gonna be able to have a sit and a chat with each one and find out what they did or didn’t know. And we’re gonna be endin’ their Pres, they may not care much for us after that anyways.”
At the last Dizzy looked hard at Paul, but Paul met his eyes and didn’t flinch.
Fletch’s gruff voice interrupted the silence. “What about the rest of the Tails? Any that aren’t at the motel, at least. I don’t give a shit if they knew what their Pres was settin’ up or not. They’ve been a thorn in our side for a long time. I don’t wanna be lookin’ over my shoulder at Texas no more.”
Samuel leaned back in his chair. “They’re gone. I’ve already made a call to Eduardo. He’s in that neck of the woods. He can take care of that while we’re busy here. I don’t want them comin’ after us.”
Samuel looked around the table. “I like Dizzy’s plan. Anyone got anythin’ to add to that?”
Everyone shook their heads.
“Good. Let’s go get our girl back.”
~o0o~
Paul drove the van to the motel. Samuel and Terry were in the back, their hands tied behind their backs. They weren’t actually tied all that securely, but the knots would stand up to a brief scrutiny. They had given their guns to Dizzy and Chiz and were armed only with knives hidden in their boots. If anyone patted them down thoroughly, the blades would be found and taken. Paul had both his guns and three knives, only one of which was visible. They were going to have to take their chances quickly and were relying on the probability of being in a small, cramped space.
Paul had twisted his fears for Ashleigh, his hatred for Jimmy in and Spike and his regret at the disappointment of his brothers into an icy cold concentration. His world was in hyper-focus, all the dim lights were a little bit brighter, and the low noises a little bit louder. Whatever happened tonight, however it happened, Jimmy and Spike would die for laying hands on his girl. If they’d hurt her, he’d kill them all over again in the afterlife; it was looking like he’d be following them there soon enough.
Dizzy, Chiz and Crash would be using their experience to take out the Rabids as quickly and as silently as possible. Elvis had mentioned to Paul during the course of the day that they were the only people staying on one side of the motel, he’d been joking about no unfortunate residents having to listen to Travis’ snoring. They didn’t have time to undertake any better reconnaissance for themselves.
Paul parked the van in front of the row of rooms that included room number eight. He couldn’t see them, but he knew that Dizzy, Chiz and Crash were out there, waiting for Paul to take Samuel and Terry to the door of the room before they started working their way through the block. Sinatra and Tag were somewhere, too; Paul couldn’t see them either. They would be watching to see which room they were taken to, if they were taken to another room, when they demanded to see Ashleigh.
Paul paused before he opened the door. There was a vehicle parked at the end of the row of bikes that he hadn’t been expecting to see.
“There’s a police cruiser here.”
Terry’s outraged voice came from the behind the seats. “That piece of shit Hooper!”
“Yeah.” Samuel’s voice agreed. “You pay a man and he’s available to be bought by anyone. Someone must’ve topped our contribution to his pension fund. Don’t matter. Let’s do this thing.”
In the darkness of the van, Paul unzipped his hoodie, giving him easier access to the gun in the holster at his side. He had left his kutte at the clubhouse; he was coming in as a traitor, not as a patch. He shoved open the van door and slammed it shut hard behind him. Any small distraction was a good thing. He opened the rear doors and manhandled Samuel and Terry out. They couldn’t take the risk that they weren’t being watched by unfriendly eyes as well. He pushed them in front of him as far as the door to room number eight, which opened as they approached. Paul couldn’t see who had opened it. He took a deep breath and shoved Samuel and Terry through, hoping that no one opened fire straight off the bat. It’s what he would have done if he were doing this for real. The night remained mercifully silent as he followed them through.
Spike, Jimmy and Chief Hooper stood waiting for them. Stretched out on one of the beds was a man smoking a cigarette and who looked to be in need of several decent meals and a shower. It was Shank, Spike’s SAA. Paul didn’t know the man well, but as long as he’d known who he was, Shank had always looked like a man with a serious drug habit. As far as Paul knew the man was clean, but he reeked of depravity. The door closed behind them and Paul turned to see that it was Giles that had granted them entry. Five on three, and all the five had guns. Things were not looking good.
If there had been any doubt about who was in charge of this little coup, it was erased when Spike welcomed them. “Shark, it’s good to see you brother.”
Paul couldn’t keep the sneer out of his voice. “I’d like to say likewise, but it ain’t. Where’s Ashleigh?”
“Your girl’s safe, in manner of speakin’, I s’pose.”
Samuel took a step forward, and even though he was visibly bound, all five of their enemies twitched. “I want to see my daughter.”
Spike cocked his head on one side, regarding Samuel with open curiosity. “A last request? Very well, I’m feelin’ generous. Chief, help me escort them next door. Wouldn’t want to take any chances.”
Paul was pleased. Tag and Sinatra would know the Chief was complicit, then they wouldn’t pause when it came to killing the bastard. It wouldn’t be easy to explain away, but the fucker was going to die for his part in this.
Giles opened the door again. Sam and Terry turned of their own free will, but the Chief still gave them a shove in their backs anyway. Spike followed Paul out and went directly to the next room and opened the door, throwing it wide without entering.
Ashleigh was on the bed. The first thing that Paul saw was that her face was bruised and her lip was split. The blood from the cut was smeared across her cheek. The second thing that cleared in his brain was that Garfield was on top of her and it was obvious what he was trying to do, what he’d been about to do. He was clothed, but she was only half-dressed, and his hands were all kinds of places that they shouldn’t be.
A bestial sound of fury erupted from Paul’s chest. Spike, looking for the source of the outrage, stepped into the room. Red mist completely obscured Paul’s vision and the hyper-focus increased until time seemed to stand still. He barely heard Spike cussing Garfield out, or Samuel or Terry’s shouts of anger and promises of a slow death. He heard only the blood thundering through his veins thickened by wrath towards anyone that had been complicit in hurting her.
Garfield was going to die, but he wasn’t going to be the first one. Cut the head off the snake. Paul moved to storm the room, to throw himself across it
at the man who’d been trying to rape his girl, but as he moved, as Spike turned and threw his arm out to block his path, Paul was drawing his gun. He shoved it into Spike’s gut and pulled the trigger. Using his momentum and massive strength he heaved Spike’s drooping body off his arm and while Garfield was rolling off Ashleigh to reach for his own gun, Paul put a bullet between his eyes.
He heard another shot echo through the night. He turned and saw the Chief sprawled out on the tarmac, his life fluid leaking out of him. Either Tag or Sinatra had taken the shot. Another gun cracked, Shank and Giles were out of the room, guns drawn. Terry was spinning towards the floor, spun by the impact of a bullet. Paul didn’t have a chance to check him; he aimed at Giles as best he could and fired. Samuel was dropping as he shucked off his fake bonds. As Shank was trying to fix an aim on him, he fired and missed; Samuel straightened and dived, blade in hand. Both men flew backwards onto the tarmac. Samuel drew his knife out of the home it had found in Shank’s stomach and plunged it into the side of his neck. Shank’s arms went limp, his grip on his firearm relaxed as Samuel made sure he was good and dead.
Blood in the Water (Kairos) Page 31
