I whirled around as Marla pushed a wheelchair into the room. She was glaring at us like we were shit on her shoes. She was pissed and clearly didn’t agree with what was going on. The wheelchair looked like it was tricked out, with an electric motor, a high headrest and it was wide, with a cushioned seat and a small gearstick on the left hand side.
He was around fifty, with thick brown hair, a heavily stubbled beard and features that would once have been considered handsome, though they were slacker, with deep lines around his mouth and eyes. There was a large, jagged scar down the side of his face that he was attempting to hide with facial hair.
He sat upright, dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt, he was slim although not frail looking. His right arm was cradled into his stomach. Something had clearly fucked him up.
“Bike accident,” he told me, it wasn’t too noticeable, but his voice was a little slurred.
“Accident, my ass,” Marla said under her breath. I wasn’t sure what she meant but Ranger waved his good hand in her direction.
“Why don’t you get our guests a beer,” he said.
I glanced at her, wondering if she’d comply, but her status as an old lady was ingrained because she huffed out a sigh and left us. Ranger told us to take a seat as he used the stick on the arm rest to guide him further into the room. It was only then I realized why the furniture was so sparse, to accommodate the chair. I chose not to sit though and went to look through the window. I would stay near it, just to be sure nothing was going to creep up on us.
Ranger nodded at me. “You got nothing to worry about, son.”
I just looked at him.
Marla came in carrying three beers in one hand, she’d lit up a cigarette in the other. She passed out the beers, gave us a menacing look then left, shutting the door behind her.
“She’s protective, with good reason. Not gonna lie, Randy, I’ve called up a couple of guys and got them on standby, but they’ll leave us alone.”
“Wouldn’t expect anything less,” Ballistic told him.
My spine stiffened at that. Ranger gave a short laugh then took a long drink of the beer.
“When two Devil’s roll up at my door, it’s only natural,” he looked my way. “Even if it has been a while and I’m not exactly a threat. But you guys are. They’re not Kingsmen out there but they know their shit.”
“Fair enough,” I said, sensing I needed to back down on this, the last thing we needed was getting into any kind of altercation all the way out here.
“What is it I can do for you?” he asked. He may have looked out of action in his chair, but I could see the steely eyed gaze he was giving Ballistic. He was still a Kingsmen, even if he was no longer an active member.
“They’ve taken the Prez’s daughter.”
The only sign Ranger gave this meant anything to him was a slight shift of his right hand, but that may have been a spasm, it looked like that arm was completely useless. I hadn’t heard about their Prez getting into an accident, but then again, in the past, I hadn’t paid much mind to the Kingsmen. I remained silent and let Ballistic do all the talking.
“Sorry to hear that.”
“We need to find her.”
“I can’t help, though I appreciate King must be losing his mind.”
“Your officers have abandoned the clubhouse, and your men. You know we’ll keep rounding them up, and if we don’t get answers, things aren’t going to be pretty.”
“They’re not mine anymore,” he said, there was tension in his voice. He didn’t like hearing this.
“I don’t believe you aren’t aware of what is going on in your MC.”
“Then you underestimate Nytro.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning the minute I couldn’t ride anything other than this thing, I was cut off.”
“You really expect us to believe that?” I asked. “Your club, that you were President of, just cast you aside.”
“Kingsmen ain’t like the Devil’s. Never has been, Randy here’ll tell ya. There’s always been poison running through the club. No matter how much I tried to weed it out,” he added under his breath. “I sat on the throne for seven years. Got it as straightened out as I could, but there are bad people with bad attitudes that are never gonna leave.”
I was surprised by his candor. Most MC’s were fiercely loyal, even of the assholes in their crew. King would never disrespect any of our members this way, he’d deal with them inhouse or they’d be kicked out if they weren’t following his rule. But no one outside of the MC knew anything about it.
