Reapers.
***
Three days had passed and each day I had to worry that one of the guys would fuck up our plan. I made sure Fist didn’t encounter our fuckin’ rat and for that very reason, we let Dixon do the talking. The man was so smooth he could practically glide on water if he put the right amount of hair gel on. It was no surprise that he got the job done on top of making it look like it was going to be some road trip to boot.
Ashley had been arguing on and off with me about going to do this, but it was my job – to stand beside my brothers in life and in death.
“Do you have to go?” Ashley asks me as I hoisted my overnight bag over my shoulder. When I finally had my hands free for a moment, I looked back down to her and took her face with a smile.
“Your old man’s right, Ash. We’ve let this issue go on for way too long. It’s time we handle it, and we’re gonna do just that.”
“I don’t,” she mutters softly, “I don’t know what to expect from you anymore.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, a slowing halt to my aggression.
Her baby blue eyes lift from the floor to see me for the first time. What felt like the first time since this morning at least. Had I been avoiding her this entire time?
“You. My father. All of you making plans without me,” she spat out.
“This has nothing to do with you, Ashley.” I lean forward and her eyes flash with anger.
“This has everything to do with me!”
I quickly shut my mouth and she gives me a hard look from across the foyer. The look on her face makes me drop my hands, giving up all at once.
“You’re right,” I respond simply before taking another step to her. The beautiful woman blinks for a moment, no longer retreating from me. Taking her face, I pull her close to my chest and wrap my arm around her body with a defeated kiss to her temple.
“You shouldn’t have to deal with this though,” I admit in a whisper. “And that’s why we have to take precautions.”
Her hand rises to my chest, closing her fingers down to my chest, “You’re expecting me to just wait for you to come back with all of the information as you tell me nothing and leave me here wondering?”
“Do you trust me enough to come back?” I ask her.
“Of course, I do.” She looks up at me, almost offended. “You better come back without a scratch!”
“I’ll try my best, Monroe,” I say, taking her hand from my shirt and kiss the knuckle. “Just stay home and don’t worry. This’ll be over soon.”
That’s what I told her before I left the house with a heavy weight on my heart. How could I tell her that there were no guarantees with playing a game like this one? If I had confessed to my girl that this was most likely going to be a shootout she would have chained me to the house.
As I rode my Harley through the dark crease of the forest, I could feel the sunset tuck into the trees before I was greeted by an uncertain night. The pathway was sober without a barbecue in sight. It became clear that the club alerted the brothers to keep their wives and children indoors and away from the club tonight.
A low sigh escaped me as I pulled up to the entrance of the gates with the brothers and their bikes humming patiently. Fist was at the very head of the group, grinding his gears forward as soon as he saw me coming. Beside him was pickup truck as red as the devil’s tongue with a shitload of supplies in the back. A man from the group had just tucked something underneath its tarp like mass before giving the bumper of the truck a slap. The truck heard it and gave out three consecutive honks which signaled Spider, one of our newest and most trustworthy prospects, to open the gates and let the Reapers out for our highly anticipated hunt.
After riding for miles upon miles the abandoned warehouse was finally in view, our men slowed their bikes down to surround Fist as we moved with caution.
I reduced my speed as I grew closer to them, my eyes examining the roof of the building for us. The men dispersed left and right to allow me to push through to the head of the crowd where Fist waited for me.
As I rolled in to his side, he turned his head to acknowledge me. I met his eyes before we averted our stare to the opening doors of the warehouse; a welcoming nightmare. I couldn’t help but hide a small smirk.
Fist had noticed the humor in my eyes, growing serious. “What’s got you all amused”
With a shake of my head, I closed my eyes. “I just can’t wait to get back home.”
He scoffs but I swear I could hear him restraining to chuckle. “You, silly boy,” the old man says at last. “How’s our man looking?”
I opened my eyes to look at him before turning my head around to where the truck sat in the dirt path, parked at the very side of the building with the rest of our brothers. The door opened, and Dixon had jumped out, rolling up his sleeves to prepare for the worst.
“He looks like he’s in decent shape.” I respond with a chuckle, squinting my eyes when I saw him walk around the car to the passenger seat. When Dixon opened the door, he stuck his hand into the car and pulled out the terrified Roach––our rat of a prospect.
“For now,” Fist sneers before sending a wad of spit to the floor.
The rat was just barely holding onto the car when he forced himself out of Dixon’s clutch and twisted under the man’s arm. A sharp curse was thrown into the wind as he threw himself into the ground, dragging his body away from the car. I watched as Roach threw his head up to look up at us, his face red with dry corroded blood across his brow.
The boys had beat the truth out of him till the man could barely recognize whether he was conscious or chained to his nightmares. With both of his eyes practically swollen shut, I doubted he could even recognize us. We watched him squirm in the dirt, his attempts futile with the electrical tape binding both of his wrists.
Dixon came forward and tucked his foot back before giving the man a solid kick to the side. A harsh grunt came out of the man’s mouth before he spat blood against the ground, coughing at the hit. Just the sight alone made Booger wince as Dixon asserted his hands on the man’s wrists. Cracker could only shake his head as he joined his brother’s side with a hand on his shoulder.
“Alright, enough of this!” Fist’s voice boomed hard before he pulled his attention to Dixon. “Get this sunnuvabitch off the ground. I can’t stand the very stench of him.”
“You got it, Prez,” Dixon nods before dragging Roach up to his feet.
Roach coughs until his chin was dripping with blood. He brings his head up only to direct his attention back to the ground. Even if he could see the look on Fist’s face, he didn’t dare turn his face in his direction.
As the men started to pull out their guns, I waited beside our Prez and his VP while they spoke quietly to themselves. Dixon’s eyes were set on Roach, so I couldn’t possibly disturb him in the peak of the moment. Zane and Kade were helping the rest of men collect more guns from Dixon’s truck while Zoro leaned against the truck, filling his gun with bullets. There were questions I wanted to ask––just like Ashley––yet I was in no position to start placing my doubts on the situation.
“Let’s get moving,” I called out to the men with a look of warning.
My steps started forward as I walked alongside Fist and Cracker, making our way to the open warehouse doors.
The dark space was barely lit of lamps except for the yellowed bulbs above, a cracked collection that flickered on and off like something out of a horror movie. I could smell the fresh sulfur surround my nose like a slap to the face. As more of us entered the building, a cracking sound escaped from the room before a harsh light woke up our eyes to the company that waited behind the shadows.
We saw the crowd of men pose themselves around the warehouse space with their bikes behind them. I tensed up at the very sight of them, the hair on my neck standing on edge. They stood there expectedly with the same determination to match with ours. They didn’t know what we came here for tonight. Some of their faces I could rec
ognize from their last visit and others I was sure they’d just patched in, as the fuckers were shaking in their boots almost pissing themselves.
Whether they brought their entire club or just a fraction of their men was unknown to me. With their careful measures, I wouldn’t have doubted if they knew something was up and brought most of their men here tonight. Despite that, I had to learn not to underestimate my opponents no matter how scummy their practices were. As I looked up, a whole group of them were just above the suspension rafts with one man’s hand on a lever which I suspected was the light switch.
It was impressive how much they wanted to make an impact of their numbers but all in all, this was just a front to intimidate us. In this space, we were evenly matched with the same amount of men.
As we approached further into the warehouse, the mass of Bears divided to reveal Grizzly with that same cocky grin that I wanted to wipe straight off his face. Each step of our Prez’s was met with a rustle of their boots in the hard ground, increasing the anticipation between every brother around. While Fist walked with both Cracker and myself at his side, I couldn’t find Grizzly walking with a right-hand man nor Harry for that matter.
“This could be a good thing,” I thought as my eyes searched for the bastard in the crowd.
Once both Prez’s were only feet apart from each other the meeting had started at the exchange of their eyes. Grizzly would tip his hat like some kind of sheriff from a Wild West movie, but Fist only took his belt in both hands while acknowledging the other man’s gesture. It was stiff but it did the job.
“Lloyd,” the Bears’ Prez speaks at last, his smile undisturbed. “You called and here we are to answer––though I have to admit, your message gave us a lot to think about.”
“I would think so, Teddy,” Fist says with languidness in his breath.
Grizzly raises his brows in amusement before scratching the back of his head, “What is this really about then?”
“Well, it’s simple,” Fist retorts, “You always did say that the burden of proof is a bitch to come by. Which is why I couldn’t say shit when you waltzed into my club––”
“Now, hold on just one second,” Grizzly let up.
Fist didn’t stop there, “––with a sorry ass excuse to take my daughter because of your little bitch of a member who couldn’t even come alone as a man to face the consequences.”
One of the Bears members scoffs from afar. “Is this what we’re here for? Your girl is calling Daddy to the rescue?”
“N’aw, son,” Cracker called out to the boy. “We’re here because your miserable dumbasses couldn’t stop brown-nosing into our business.”
“I beg your pardon?” Grizzly interrupts before stepping forward.
“Don’t you so much as dare,” I growl, placing my hand on my gun.
The second he so much as took a foot forward I was already in his path, only as spare couple of inches away from his face. His men were practically at his shoulders the second I came into their sights. His arm came up to hold them back, careful eyes acknowledging watching my every move.
“Careful there, boy. They’ll tear you apart like hungry dogs if you so much as breath on me,” the old bear threatens.
“I could say the same to you,” I retort sharply.
The presence of our men became undeniably dangerous as every single man had turned their safety’s off, ready to fire upon command. As I looked up, it appeared that the Bears above the rafts were the only men with guns in our sights. Grizzly may have walked into the situation with solely his bare hands, but it didn’t stop him from being careful. Regardless, it wasn’t enough to take us down.
“Fine, fine,” Grizzly pulls his hands up, embracing the situation. “What exactly are you accusing us of then?”
“We’ll start with blackmail.” I cross my arms against my chest, watching the man carefully. “Then we’ll talk about theft and all the other low-level shit you thought you could get away with.”
“Well, look who’s balls just dropped.” He drawls out slowly, a laugh creeping up his throat. Grizzly displaces his attention to Fist, the smile more evident than ever. “Honestly, Lloyd. Are you that hungry for a little action from the good old days? You’re even going so far as to accuse our MC with such allegations that could put you up as a laughing stock to the rest of the clubs in Montana?”
“This isn’t some little soap opera shit,” Fist warned the man sternly.
“Then where’s your proof, huh?” Grizzly sneers, his smiling disappearing at once, “You have the burden of proof once again, old boy. You may have lucked out with your branded woman but this time, you’re going to need a lot more than your daughter’s word.”
“We found your rat,” I said finally.
“You what?” He practically spat, the anger growing in his throat.
“Dixon!” I barked at the man from the group, pulling myself off to the side.
As Grizzly waited before us, I could hear our shuffle of men move like a wild current as Dixon brought out our man like a dog to its master. Roach was still dragging his feet when Dixon emerged to toss the man into the open pit, unmerciful hard eyes following the fall.
Roach laid there, bruised and beaten with everything but the truth still inside him. With a kick to the rib, Dixon damned him again and the crowd flinched at the display before them.
“Tell them what you told us!” He curses hard. “Or so help me––”
“Aygh! Please!” Roach pulls his cuffed hands up to his bleeding head, defenseless against the mob before him. “I didn’ have a fuckin’ choice, man!”
“Bullshit,” Fist growled.
The very voice of our Prez made Roach curl up into a ball of pain, sobbing into the floor. For the first time, Grizzly looked to the crumpled man with absolutely nothing to say.
“They said––they said,” Roach muttered, his voice growing higher at every syllable. “I either join them and help wipe out every Reaper in this town, or they’d slit my throat and stuff my entrails down my mouth if they caught me working the graveyard shift alone!”
“What the fuck is this––” Grizzly sputters angrily.
“We have the tapes,” I assured him, my smile returning in its confidence. “You lot have been visiting Roach since last year, only we know you didn’t threaten him. You bribed him with an offer he couldn’t resist.”
“GHnn!” The battered man yelped as soon as Dixon pulled him up to his knees again.
“He gave you everything,” I nodded off to Roach as Dixon carried him away. “Access to our schedules. Our drop off locations. It’s a shame your rat didn’t know how to cover his trail before we caught a whiff of the shit you lot have been cooking.”
“I don’t,” Grizzly started.
“Who gives a SHIT?” A voice came up from behind the crowd.
We all turned our attention to the sudden flare, the blood still boiling in our veins. Even Grizzly turned his sights to the person dragging his feet behind him, something dragging with every step he made. As the men made room for the sorry son of a bitch, I could feel every man resume their click of a gun––getting ready to gun the man down at the signal of either Fist, or myself.
Harry. Fucking. Vale.
The fucker’s face was in full view he stumbled into the room with a shiner to the eye. He was bleeding from the lip with what looked like a broken nose in the making. At the sight of him, every Reaper was just teetering to rip a new set of holes into his body.
Hell, so was I until I saw what was in his hand.
“Now,” the man drawls slowly, the very whiskey he drinks still sitting on his tongue, “which one of you fuckers has been screwing my wife.”
With a tug of his arm, Ashley had stumbled to the floor on her knees trail of blood running down her forehead. Harry’s dirty fingers buried themselves into her hair only to force her head up to face us. In that moment, we could have had all the guns and bullets in the world yet not even one of us could dare to pull the trigger on this bas
tard.
CHAPTER 19
Blackjack
“Motherfucker,” Fist states lowly.
“Let her go––” I growled as I took a step forward.
“Ah, ah, ah.” Harry snickered before giving Ashley another yank of her hair, she didn’t make a peep, but I could see the discomfort flash across her face.
“Someone fucking stop him!” Zane hollers.
I felt like a dog on a short leash, being forced to watch my woman in that vile man’s hands. I had to hold my anger back and as I did, I found myself grinding my teeth practically to the bone as I watched him sneer.
Ashley’s hands were on both his wrists, straining for him not to hurt her any more than he already had. I examined her from afar, looking her up and down, her face looked fresh with color without so much as a bruise except for a cut across her lip and the thin line of blood dried upon her forehead. When I glanced at the asshole next to her it looked like Harry had gotten more of a beating than her which meant she’d put up a good fight whenever the hell he jumped her.
Grizzly’s eyes were set on the two of them, his expression changing from strain to an odd look of relief. Had he planned this all from the very beginning? Is this why I didn’t see any of his men with weapons? Did he think we would just stand by and let this happen? No. He had to have known better than that. We fight for our family, and we’re sure as fuck fighting for Ashley Monroe.
I looked to Fist as our eyes met at the same time; this was bad. The one bargaining chip that we had stolen back from them was practically ripped out of our hands. “So help me, I will kill every single one of these fuckers if they so much as hurt her and our baby,” I seethe in my thoughts.
“God help your damned self,” Cracker exhales hard. “To think you would bring her into this. Have you lost your fucking mind!”
“Don’t look at me, old dog,” Grizzly holds his hands up, a laugh cracking from his foul chest. “I hadn’t a single clue what our boy had in mind when he told us he’d be showing up late to his own party.”
Knox Brotherhood Page 139
