Punc opened the door to the BMW and a faint dinging sound could be heard. “They’re in the car.”
Razor wasted no time getting Frank into the backseat of the truck cab. He closed the door on Frank and climbed in behind the wheel. Tundra got in on the passenger side and they drove away.
Cal folded into the Beamer and backed out of the driveway.
Blood ambled up the drive to us. “Don’t take too much time, Punc.”
I dug into my pocket. “Hang on. Here’s your money, Blood.”
He took it with a strange expression. “You probably ought to keep at least fifty bucks. We shattered a huge terracotta pot when we attacked Beauford.”
I shrugged. “That’s all right. Cat and I aren’t good with gardening.”
He nodded and sauntered to his bike.
Punc grabbed my hand and led me inside the house. Blood’s motorcycle roared to life as I locked the door.
“Hurry up, Savannah,” Punc called.
In the kitchen, Punc jerked his head toward the garage. “I don’t want you here alone. Go to the clubhouse. Beast will be there, and he’s gonna text to let us know you got there safe. Stay there until I call you.”
“Okay. Where are you going to—”
He shook his head. “It’s club business now, babe. Less you know about where I’m going, the better off we’ll both be.”
Punc
Punc’s right hook connected with Frank’s eye, and his face jerked to the left. The large shed felt smaller even though it was just Punc, Razor, and Tundra dishing out what Frank deserved.
When they arrived at the remote property in Callahan an hour and a half ago, the brothers forced Beauford into the BMW with Cal. Blood had swung off his bike, and climbed into the backseat of the Beamer with a gun trained on Beauford to make sure he didn’t try anything.
Frank inhaled through his nose. “Are you done yet? You Riot pussies aren’t going to kill me.”
“You’re awfully cocky for an asshole who’s tied to a chair in a shed in the middle of nowhere,” Razor muttered.
“Where’s Beauford?” Frank asked.
Tundra glanced between Punc and Razor. “Did you notice that’s the third time he’s asked about Beauford?”
The door to the oversized shed opened, and Cal entered the room followed by Blood.
“Beauford sampled some of your product. It didn’t seem to agree with him,” Blood said.
Fury filled Frank’s eyes. “You killed my nephew. You’re gonna—”
“I didn’t say that, Frankie,” Blood muttered.
“Is he alive?” Frank asked, his voice husky.
Blood leaned against the wall, staring at Frank. “EMTs were at the scene. If you lace your product with fentanyl… well, better hope they have Narcan on hand.”
Frank tried to stand even though he was tied to a chair. From behind him, Cal pushed down on his shoulders to force him back to sitting.
“Did we know he worked with his nephew?” Punc asked.
Blood shook his head once. “He had a brother, who died four years ago. We also know he’s got a twenty-eight-year-old sister, but she’s too young to be Beauford’s mom and she’s currently living on the state of New York’s dime in a women’s prison.”
Razor stepped closer to Frank. “When did you last talk to her?”
