It doesn’t help that the girl's face runs through my mind. Not knowing whether she’s okay drives me crazy. Was that her brother?
“Brother, what up,” Fiend says, sliding onto the stool next to me. “You've got to let it go.”
“Fucker! I don’t know how the hell you handle this fucking day,” I growl, grabbing the beer.
“I remember what the motherfuckers were trying to do, and that gives me the peace that I need. It was the only thing that we could do. Those fuckers were evil, mean son of bitches. We couldn’t allow them to live and be a constant threat to our sisters,” Fiend says, grabbing a cigarette.
Fiend lights up, inhales, and exhales. He flags the Prospect for a beer.
“Fuck! But that fucking moment of watching the life drain from his eyes keeps on playing in my mind. The motherfucker won’t leave,” I growl, taking a pull of tequila.
I need to get fucking drunk.
“You have to take control of that demon before it takes control of you. We don’t kill just to kill, we kill to protect the MC and our family,” Fiend says, looking at me.
“Right, you’re right,” I say, taking a pull of beer.
“Let’s go to the Fiery Strip Club,” Fiend says, taking a pull of beer.
“Yeah, that sounds great,” I say, nodding.
My cell beeps, and I look at the email. I open it, and I look at the Karla Castro dossier. She’s fucking incredible and desperate to get away from the clutches of the Cartel.
Karla appears to have earned an online course on how to write Code and test programming. It must have been the only thing she could do, because her Dad keeps a tight leash on her. Good for her.
The next day.
I walk through the secure area where the Chapel, the MC officers' offices, and the medical section are located. I enter the Chapel for Church, and I sink into a black leather seat.
“Brothers,” I say, lifting my chin at Prez and VP.
I roll my neck, closing my eyes, feeling the awful throb in my head. I took some Tylenol for the damn hangover.
The Brothers walk into the Chapel and take a seat. Demon and Diablo look at us, waiting for the last Brother.
“Brothers, Church is in session,” Demon says, slamming the gavel on the board.
“We have intel on the son of bitches,” Diablo growls, rubbing his beard.
“Brothers, the fucking Castro Cartel is in our territory. We’re not going to allow them to fucking infringe on our area and take the innocent girls and sell their fucking shit.
We have the location where the Cartel keeps the girls before trafficking them. The warehouse is in West Sacramento, near the river. We have to do the run and do recon. I want to confirm the intel before we strike because we’re going to take them down,” Demon says, tapping his fingers on the table.
“I’m sending the schedule,” Diablo says, looking around.
“Let’s get these fuckers out of our turf before they grow too big and powerful,” Demon growls. “Additional intel, it appears that an MC is working with the Cartel, and we need to get more intel on this MC. We don’t have anything on them, but if they’re coming into our turf, they’re on our shit list.”
“Don’t forget that we’re going to start the Christmas Toy run. I’ll be sending you the schedule,” Diablo says.
“Church is adjourned! Satan’s Warriors power,” Demon yells, pumping his arm.
“Riding till we die,” the Brothers shout, pumping their fists.
“Prospect, get me a bottle of tequila and beer,” I growl.
The Prospect grabs them and places them on the bar. I take a few pulls of the tequila and close my eyes. The tequila burns as he flows down and takes off the edge. I pull out my cigarettes, light them, and take a drag.
The music is loud, vibrating off the floors, and the Brothers are having fun with the club whores.
