“That makes one of us,” Brutus replied. I gave him a look, but he refused to make eye contact. There were times when it was difficult to be the leader in a group of men who all wanted to be leaders. But then, I did understand. He had been a high-ranking officer in the service. It was the loss of one of his eyes that caused his discharge.
Sure, he left the military with honors, but that didn’t change the fact he missed his calling in life.
All of the members in the club had taken the time to get to know the stories of the other members. We wanted to be there for each other in a brotherhood, and that meant we had to have a level of respect for what other members went through.
But still, there were times when I felt he would rather be the leader of the Angels, and that just wasn’t going to happen. I was founder, and I was the president, and I would remain that way until I couldn’t anymore.
“What the fuck did everyone else get involved for?” Gunner asked when we climbed onto the backs of our bikes. “We could have had that settled in a heartbeat if we didn’t get jumped by the whole goddamn pub.”
“People just looking for a fight. Any way for them to get their aggression out, and they’ll take it,” I said. “Let’s just be glad that it stopped there. I don’t trust people down here not to yank out a gun and start shooting up the place. I’m down to stand my ground, but I’d hate for someone to get caught in the crossfire.”
“Amen,” Axle said quietly. He had lost his best friend and blood brother in combat. From what I understood, it had happened right in front of him, and the man had been caught between him and a bullet. Though it had been a heroic act on his brother’s part, and I often reminded him of that fact, it didn’t change anything.
Even if Axle wasn’t blaming himself for what happened, I knew it had to be damn painful for him to deal with that sort of thing, and I didn’t bring it up unless he did.
“You all good to make the drive back?” I asked. Changing the subject was often the best thing to do, and he seemed relieved to get the thought out of his mind.
“Of course we are. We only got a sip on that damn beer before Cutter came over to start shit!” Brutus said. “I swear it’s like that guy has some sort of beacon that tells him when there’s one of us around and he just can’t resist a good fight.”
“I was thinking the same thing,” I said with a chuckle. “Any bones broken or anything we’re going to have to get taken care of before we head home?”
Everyone assured me they were good to make the hour-long ride back, and we set off. I had a lot on my mind, and I was glad we couldn’t talk when we were on the road. It was clear Cutter didn’t want us getting too close. Whether it had something to do with the cartel, or just the fact that he was still running guns and dealing drugs in general, I didn’t know, but that was a strong reaction to have, even for Cutter.
The man was always impossible to get along with. He liked things his way, and if he didn’t get his way when he asked for it, then he would start throwing his fists around. However, he didn’t have any kind of military experience. That meant that we could take him out of sheer experience alone.
Provided everyone played by the rules.
For me, there was an unspoken rule of the street. If you didn’t pull a gun on someone, then they better not do it to you. But Cutter didn’t feel that way about anything. I knew he saw life as something to serve him. If he could get an advantage by shooting someone in cold blood, he’d do it.
That’s why it was no surprise to me that he would be involved with the cartel. He didn’t care what he did as long as he got the paycheck at the end of the day. And, I could imagine smuggling drugs not only into the country but then distributing them throughout the surrounding areas came with a hefty paycheck.
It had to, if that’s what he was in to these days.
So far, I hadn’t heard of anyone getting hurt over it. At least, not lately. Not since I could pin him getting involved in the trade. But what concerned me most about the situation was that drugs were being sent through my town.
Once they crossed into my city’s limits, then they were my problem, and I would fight until my dying day to make sure they didn’t take root. Sure, one might argue that they were just passing through, but I wasn’t having any of it.
Ridgecrest wasn’t a drug run. It wasn’t a gateway from Barstow into the rest of the country, and I wasn’t going to let Cutter or anyone else treat it as though it was.
It was only a matter of time before someone started distributing it in town, and we would be right back to where we were before the Angels took over. I wasn’t about to let that happen. Ever since the Angels were involved in fighting the crime and keeping the streets clean, the assault rates fell, the arrests for drug related activity fell, and people felt safer than ever.
Cutter might want his pay, but he wasn’t going to get it at the cost of my town, or the people who lived there. I didn’t care what I had to do to stop him, even if it meant going to war.
I hadn’t been in a war with another MC for over five years, and I’d long since hoped those days were behind us. But I didn’t want the other MCs to take our silence for weakness, or our inactivity in that realm for complacency. We would fight for what we believed in, and we would take what was ours.
It was dark by the time we got back to the shop, and we were all exhausted. I was glad we made it back okay with the injuries we’d sustained, though no one had gotten too hurt in the brawl.
“That was wild,” Axle said. “A little too wild for me. I’m going to head out.”
Gunner had already peeled away from the group to head home as we passed his turn, and Brutus agreed with Axle. “I’m going home, too. I’ll be here in the morning though, Trip.”
“Sounds good,” I replied. “I’m going to do a bit of my own research before I come to the shop in the morning, so open things up in the office for me, will you?”
“Will do,” he headed out and I walked through, shutting off the lights and making sure the doors were locked. I didn’t really have a lot going on in the morning, but I didn’t want to get up early with the way my nose was already throbbing.
Hell, it was going to be another hour at least before I made it to bed, and after the week I’d had, I wasn’t going to be up at the crack of dawn. One of the benefits of being president – and owner of the shop – was that I got to delegate when I needed, and right now I had to.
I headed home alone, and my mind started to drift. Not to the fight or the fact we were about to have another drug crisis on our hands, but to that beauty at the bar. I couldn’t believe she had hit me over the head with a bottle. Feisty little thing.
I hadn’t gotten to see her for long, but damn, I liked what I saw for as long as I did. She was petite, fierce. Her eyes were emerald green only enhanced by the green of the lights in the bar, her body curvy in all the right places.
She looked at me with a defiance in her face that dared me to land the blow that I’d raised. But shit, I’d never in my life hit a woman. Even one who had just hit me with a bottle.
There was a goose egg on the back of my head by the time I got home, but I couldn’t help but chuckle. Whoever she was, she wasn’t pulling any punches. I wondered why she’d gotten involved in the fight, and why I had been her target. Perhaps it was because I was the one with my back to her, and others were facing that direction.
Maybe it was random, and she just hit me because I was the one closest to her and she had the weapon in her hand.
Whatever her reason, I wished I’d had the chance to talk to her. She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen in my life, and for that brief second, our eyes met. I never spent much of my time with women these days. I’d take one home from the bar every now and then, but I never got into anything serious with anyone.
I was too busy with my own life to worry about something like that. And besides one woman I’d known briefly before I went into the Service, none ever really caught my eye for more than a one-nigh
t stand. But that woman tonight, she had been different.
There wasn’t anything I could put my finger on that made her stand out from any other girl I’d met in a bar. But she was definitely different.
If only she hadn’t been so pissed at me.
6
Megan
I pulled the screaming tea pot off the stove and filled my mug with the hot liquid. It was a quiet night, and I was relieved for the break. Sunday was the only day of the week that I got to take off, and it was rare for me to get the entire day off.
More often than not, I would spend most of the afternoon working on projects for the kids the following week in school. I had my list of kids I knew I’d see, and I’d print out papers to give those who came in who hadn’t seen me specifically before.
The task often took the better part of the morning and into the afternoon, so I didn’t have a lot of time that I could call free.
I was okay with that. Between working two jobs and keeping most people at arm’s length because of what my brother did for a living, I didn’t have much in the way of friends. I didn’t want them to know what was going on with me, and I couldn’t risk them getting hurt by him, or him going to jail because of them.
It was a moral dilemma I faced. I knew what he was doing, but I couldn’t bring myself to call the cops on him. I had a feeling it wouldn’t have gotten me far anyway, but I didn’t want to put it to the test. I wasn’t sure what would be worse – calling the cops and having them arrest him. Or, calling the cops and them finding nothing. Of course, he’d turn his fury on me if he found out I was the one who’d tried to turn him in, so I never bothered.
There was one exception to my ‘no friend’ rule, however, and her name was Katherine Marshall. Without anything else to do with my time, and finally finding a second to sit down, I decided to call and tell her about the brawl the night before.
“Hey,” she said after the phone had rang three times.
“I was afraid you weren’t going to answer,” I replied. “I hate it when that happens.”
“Sorry babe, I was switching up the laundry. I didn’t even hear my phone at first. What’s up?”
“Did you hear what happened at St. Peter’s Pub last night?” I asked. “It was a madhouse when I got to work!”
“I know! It was on the news this morning,” she said with a laugh. “Leave it to Barstow.”
“I think my brother was involved,” I said. “Seems like the sort of thing that he’d do.”
“I wondered when I saw the story, but they never said who started it,” Kate replied. “What’re you up to?”
“Sitting down for the first time in ages,” I said with a laugh. “God, working two jobs sucks.”
“I hear you. I mean, technically I only work the one, but still, it feels like two,” she said. Kate was a nurse at the hospital, and she often pulled twelve-hour shifts. I felt sorry for her working so much. But then, she could say the same about me.
“What about you?” I asked.
“Same. I just got off from a fucking long shift, and I’m more than ready for a beer and a cigarette,” she said with a sigh.
“Sounds funny coming from a nurse,” I said with a laugh. “Especially one who works with lung cancer patients.”
“Something is going to kill all of us eventually,” she said. I could hear her pouring herself a drink on the other end of the line. “It all depends on what you want to put your money on.”
“That’s a funny way of looking at things,” I said with a laugh. “But you do have a point.”
“Well, take your brother for example. He’s more likely to get shot or taken out by a semi than he is to die of breast cancer, don’t you think?” she asked. She sounded as though she had a cigarette in her mouth, and I thought for a moment. It made a lot of sense when she said things that way, but I couldn’t agree with her. Not out loud, anyway.
“I’m not going to condone you drinking or smoking,” I said with a laugh. “No matter how strong of an argument you have for it.”
“I don’t blame you,” she said. “But you’re not going to live forever, either.”
“Ugh, don’t be so morbid!” I chided.
She laughed. “So I went out with this guy the other night--”
“Hold on,” I said. I thought I’d heard something outside, and I wanted to listen for it again. I knew I could be just be paranoid, but with the life my brother lived, I never could be too careful. There had been plenty of times in my life when I had been exposed to things no one should ever have to be because of him.
“Kate, I’m going to call you back,” I said. “I want to hear your story, but there’s a noise outside my house, and I’m going to see if I can figure out what it is.”
“Okay, let me know, but be careful,” she said. “Meanwhile, I’m going to enjoy this beer.”
I hung up the phone and headed to the window. I couldn’t see anything outside. The night was peaceful, except for the sound of a distant popping. I couldn’t make out whether it was someone’s car failing to start, or what it was. But there was a knot forming in the pit of my stomach.
Then, I screamed as Cutter appeared in the window. He basically threw himself against it, shouting for me. “Megan! You’ve got to open the door! Open it right now!”
He left a handprint on the glass of the window, and I didn’t want to look close enough to see whether it was blood or some other grime. I ran to the door, sliding the dead bolt out of the way and unlocking the knob. I’d barely started to open it when my brother came barging inside, pushing it closed behind him.
He fought with the lock, but his hands were shaking too badly for him to close it.
“What the hell happened Cutter?” I asked. There was blood on the front of his shirt, and a dark crimson stain right over his heart. “Oh my God, are you hurt?”
“It’s not bad,” he said. “Come on, let’s get inside, away from the windows. Move now.”
He hurried from window to window, closing the blinds and checking to make sure all entrances to the house were locked. Then, he turned the lights low and headed to the living room. All the while I was following him, demanding to know what was going on, and asking far too many questions.
He hated it when I asked him questions, but he also knew that I hated it when he arrived at the house in such bad shape. I had no idea what was going on out there, and it made me sick to think that he might have murdered someone.
It was a question I wanted to ask, but one that I hardly wanted to know the answer to.
Finally, he sat down heavily in a chair in the living room and laid his head back, taking a deep breath.
I shakily returned to my own seat, staring at him with wide eyes. “Are you going to tell me what happened?”
“We were ambushed,” he said.
“What?” I asked.
“Me and some of the boys,” he replied. “I’m not quite sure what happened, but we were ambushed. We were out at the pub drinking and having a good time, and through the door comes these three large Mexican dudes.”
“Uh-huh,” I said, not sure I wanted to hear the rest of the story.
He shook his head. “They were dressed very nice, big jewelry, the speaker had a nice suit, the others were wearing nice jeans with button down shirts. They wore cowboy hats and walked right up to us, stopping and staring at us as though we should know who they were.”
“And?” I asked. “Do you?”
“I can take a guess and I’m sure I’m not that far off the mark,” Cutter replied. “He started going off about how we would shoot members of the Cartel and steal drugs, leaving them in the street to either be arrested or die before they could be.”
“Oh, Cutter,” I breathed, shaking my head. “What have you gotten yourself in to now?”
“That’s the thing!” he said as he defensively raised his head from the cushion and looked at me. “We had nothing to do with it!”
“Then what the hell is going on?” I snapped. “These g
uys – mostly likely from the cartel from the sounds of things – just show up and tell you that you murdered their friends?”
“That’s what I’m telling you! We told them that we’d been at the pub most of the night, and the bartender could vouch for that, but they didn’t listen. Guns came out, fists flew. I don’t even know who’s still alive,” he shook his head.
I grimaced. I might not have liked the other members of the Souls, but I still knew them, and to know that they might have been killed in cold blood made my own blood run cold. I hated that Cutter chose to be part of this life, and I wished there was a way I could shake it out of him.
But I knew he wasn’t going to listen. He came to me because he knew my place was safe. They didn’t know about me, because he made sure they didn’t. I wasn’t part of the MC; I had nothing to do with any of it.
“So what do you think really happened?” I asked quietly. He was silent for a moment, staring down at the floor in front of him. I could see in his eyes that he was thinking, but he clearly didn’t have any idea. Though I thought of my brother as one of the biggest liars there was, I also believed him on this one.
I could usually tell when he was lying, and he certainly seemed at a loss over what had happened. Finally, he took another deep breath. “This place is crawling with gang activity. I’m sure another gang got involved and caught the men by surprise, or we were set up.”
“Sounds reasonable,” I said.
“Yeah, but I’m not sure Pedro will think so,” he shook his head. “I’ve got to talk to him as soon as possible.”
I swallowed hard. I didn’t know who Pedro was, and I wasn’t sure that I wanted to.
“You’re hurt,” I said.
“It missed my heart. I’ll be fine,” he replied. He rose from the chair and shook his head. “Fuck!”
I jumped at the sudden shouted curse word, but he continued. “Do you know how much this is going to fuck everything up? The last thing I wanted was a fucking war with the Mexican Cartel!”
Men in Charge: A Contemporary Romance Box Set Page 48
