“You and Jock are for sure doing it.”
Both women whirled around to see Twisted had come into the house.“I got tired of being relegated to the garage.”He pointed at the phone.“Make the fuckin’ call, Silly.Your old man is beyond excited about that thing he’s not allowed to tell me.”He grinned, “Make the fuckin’ call.”
***
Jock
He loaded the dogs into the truck and headed into the garage.Silly had taken her small coupe to the shop earlier, leaving the dogs pouting that they didn’t get to go with.
“You guys don’t know how lucky you are.”He looked at them in the mirror.“Spoiled for choice, as my nan used to say.”
He drove for another few minutes before he looked at them again.“What would you guys think of a baby running around the house?Tank, we already know you’re the best babysitter.Gunny’s kiddos are proof of that.Maynard, how will you be around kids?I need to take you guys to the clubhouse one of these nights, get you acclimated to all the people who’ll love the kid.”
Pulling into the garage’s parking lot, he looked at the dogs again.“What if we get a dog to foster too?Is that too much change?We can get the dog before the baby would come, and maybe everyone will just get along?”He laughed.“Yeah, right, Jock.Make plans.Kids and dogs will show you the error of your ways.”
“Jock, you gonna keep talking to yourself, or will you finish my bike any time soon?”Twisted was standing just outside the door to the garage.“Been working on it three weeks too long.”
“Yah, boss.It’s done, I just forgot to tell you.”Jock grinned as he opened the back door to unclip Tank.“Like, two weeks ago.”He went around the front of the truck and released Maynard, too.“Oops.”
“You ugly motherfucker.”
Jock laughed as he went into the garage.
***
The warehouse loomeddark on the edge of town, its rusted walls not doing anything to muffle the snarls and whimpers echoing from within.Jock crouched in the shadows with Twisted, Wildman, Ace, and a handful of trusted brothers from IMC and the Caddo Hobos.One of Pony’s contacts had led them here to the homebase of an SSMC-run dogfighting ring, the kind that had nearly killed Maynard.
They were riding heavy, as always, but there would be no guns tonight.This was about rescue, not a shootout.They’d called in an anonymous tip to the cops, but they weren’t waiting.
“Remember,” Twisted whispered, his voice sharp as a blade, “grab the dogs, smash the setup, get out.No heroes.”
Jock nodded, adrenaline sharp in his veins.Silly was safe at home with Penny and the dogs, but the thought of her and their dogs and most especially the potential of an unborn child fueled him.Stay sharp, stay steady.
They moved like ghosts, cutting through the chain-link fence and slipping inside one by one.
The air reeked of blood and fear, cages lining the walls, dogs huddled or pacing, eyes wild.In the center, a makeshift ring stained dark.Two SSMC goons lounged by a table, counting cash, oblivious.
Wildman signaled, and they struck.Ace took down one guard with a swift chokehold while Jock tackled the other, his fist connecting with a satisfying crack.“For the dogs,” he growled, zip-tying the guy’s hands to an iron railing.The others fanned out, popping cage locks.Dogs poured out, all kinds.Thin pit bulls, mixes, some of them carrying scars like Maynard, others pups too young for this hell.It looked like every one was a bait dog.
On one hand that makes this job easier, since they’re unlikely to start a fight.On the other hand, we’ll need to look for wherever they’re keeping the fighting dogs.He shook his head.Problem for another day.
Jock knelt by a trembling shepherd mix, murmuring, “Easy, boy.You’re safe.”The dog nosed his hand, tentative, and Jock’s chest ached.They loaded the dogs into vans other brothers had driven up and were waiting outside.It was amazing to see, the animals whining and flinching but following, sensing freedom.
Sirens wailed in the distance as they torched the ring’s gear.That would set the ring back thousands of dollars.The records went to Pony, who loaded them into the back of a truck before swinging up into the seat and rolling off.He would run his magic on the files, providing a rundown of the business side of the ring.They’d find ways to make the bastards pay.
Back in the vans, engines rumbling away, Twisted clapped Jock’s shoulder.“Good work.Those pups get a second chance.”
At the drop-off at a trusted shelter ally, Jock watched the dogs being unloaded, a lineup of vets organized by Kent waiting to do evaluation and treatment.
One pup, a scrappy terrier, licked Jock’s hand.
“Yeah,” he muttered, thinking of home, “we all do.”The night ended with a quiet ride back, the road ahead a little less shadowed.
***
Silly
The door dinged, and Silly looked up to find her next appointment striding into the shop.“Mr.Bell, I assume.And look, you’re very prompt.”
