“No, they got away!” This has to be another Cobra.
“Fucking Bitter Slayers, we need to take them out before Para finds out what we’re doing.”
Now, this is an interesting conversation, and I look to Hellion who is gritting his back teeth and doing his best not to react.
“We gotta get our hands on one of their bitches.” The voices continue, unaware that they are being overheard.
Wraith tenses, and I know some shit is going to go down any moment. I slide my hand down my calf and lift my jeans hem,grasping the knife I have strapped to my ankle. A knife always comes in handy, and has saved my life twice before.
“Yeah, the one Fink got the hog from, he’s got himself a nice woman. Carrie-Anne’s sister, apparently. Why don’t we take her? That’ll show the fuckers we aren’t scared of them. It’ll show Para how to run a 1% club too.”
Now, I’m not sure what happened, but I was on the fucker before he finished whatever he was about to say next. I jerked his head back, slammed my knife into the back of his neck and sliced forward with it across his throat. I listen to the gurgling of the blood and air mixing, and the thrashing I control until he goes still. Yeah, that worked well, and the research I’ve done on using knives has paid off as this is a method the British Forces use.
While I drop this asshole to the ground I watch as Hellion and Wraith finish the other two. Neither knew what hit them as it happened that fast.
“Pick the fuckers up and get them in the house. We’re going to torch the place,” Hellion states as he picks up the one he killed, leaving blood to trail down his back. I’m pleased we left our cuts behind because I wouldn’t want this asshole's blood on my cut.
We ditch the bodies, torch the place and get the fuck out of there. Back at our bikes I look at Wraith and Hellion. “Well, it is more than obvious Para doesn’t know what his boys are up to. Maybe it’s time Pres sorted the fucker out. The plan for the safe place isn’t coming fast enough.”
Hellion nods. “Yeah, I agree. Let’s get back and inform Pres. Then see if we can push this into drive. I have a feeling Para is going to have more than a little cleanup to do in his own backyard.”
Back at the clubhouse we update Whack who is astounded that Para hasn’t got a solid hold on his brothers. Picking up his phone, he makes a call, and the three of us, along with Cannon wait for what’s going to happen. It doesn’t take long for the call to connect and Whack doesn’t wait for a greeting.
“Your men attacked mine in an ambush. Now we are already at fucking war, Para, but I’m telling you now, the meeting is off. I’m gonna pick off your men one-by-one unless you rein them in and sort out your fuckin’ club. I know you didn’t orchestrate this ambush, but they were laughing at you before they had their throats sliced and were burned in a derelict house. I’m giving you two weeks, and then we the Bitter Slayers are coming for you, each of you.” Whack closes the call, not giving Para a chance to respond. He switches his phone off, throws it into the top drawer of his desk and gives us an evil smirk as he states. “How do you like them apples?”
We all chuckle mainly because of the satisfied look on Whack’s face. “Pres, that was either a foolish move, or a genius one. But I think we’ve had enough banter with the Broken Cobras. We need to make sure they stay out of our territory, or take them out just as you said one-by-one. Do you think we could persuade old man Collins to let us feed his pigs?” Cannon smirks.
“I want everyone on high alert. Keep riding two at a time. I want Bri and Marcia at the clubhouse. Since they don’t go out to work, they can stay here. Breaker, keep a close eye on Molly. I’ll make sure we keep two outside the practice and house. Let’s make sure we have no loose ends that the Cobra’s can exploit. The trap we were planning looks to be out the window, but we can use the place as it has a lot of land…”
“We could start our own cemetery,” Wraith suggests, and Hellion nods in agreement. I smirk before looking at Whack who I have to admit is doing his best not to smirk too.
I add my piece with an innocent look, well, as innocent as I can manage, “You know there is a lot of property there and we can have a cemetery, you know a mass grave. Pour some lye over them and it won’t take long to get rid of the evidence, or we have an enormous party with a pyre.”
“Shut the fuck up, Breaker,” Whack laughs, “We’ll be better getting ourselves some pigs, cows, chickens and maybe some ducks. That way, it’ll look like we are building a farmstead. The pigs can do their job, and nobody will know. We could catch ourselves some wild hogs; those fuckers will eat anything.”
Pattie is sitting in the office telling us about her stepfather. Whack wanted all the information from her. We have information Bull has pulled from his system. Nobody knows how he finds out stuff, and we don’t ask. We don’t care as long as we find out what we need.
“He made me work at the local store, then took what I earned for my upkeep. It was for his drug habit, and my mother allowed it to happen. She overdosed a few years back, and I’m not sure if she did it or he gave it to her to get rid of her. She continually moaned about money, drugs, food, and anything else, and it was obvious that it was getting on his nerves.” Sighing and rubbing her hands together, Pattie continues. “He tried to corner me twice after my mother died, and I knew he was going to rape me or worse at some time so I ran. I’ve been running ever since. Until I got here and became a club girl so that I could be safe, and continue with my online courses.”
“You are all dismissed, except for Cannon and Bull,” Whack states, and we all leave the office. We know he’s going to find out more, but for Pattie’s dignity he’s gotten us to leave.
“Pattie has gone through more than we’ll ever know. But if she’s safe now that the asshole is gone she can build her life. She’s too good to be a club girl, and we all know it. But she’d make a good marketing person for the businesses with her new skills at social media and web designing,” Pens states right before he heads toward his office.
A call on my phone has me stepping to one side to answer. “What’s up, Smoker?”
“I found you a customized hog. The owner had it built, rode it twice and is now deceased. His widow wants to sell it, but to someone who will cherish it. I’m sending you a picture, so look and let me know quickly, if you are interested. It’s going to sell fast, Breaker, and you’ll see why when you take a look.”
I open the image Smoker sent and see a Harley Davidson Road Glide. It’s stunning, and it is obviously a customized hog. It has hardly any mileage on it from the description Smoker has given me. Equipped with air ride, fat 21” conversion with matching wheels, stereo system, Level 2 engine, custom upholstery and more. This is going to be a bike I can have Molly on and her be comfortable. Black and silver, it’s magnificent, and I can have the paint job I want from Smoker's friend.
Nodding to myself, I know I’m going to have this baby, and it’s going to be fantastic. Quickly texting Smoker I let him know to sort out the purchase. He has my bank details, so there is nothing I’ll need to do but wait.
Sitting in the rec room waiting for whatever Whack needs me to do next, I take a drink of the coffee I’m nursing. I watch Andy and Thorn who are having a discussion about the work being done on the shop when a thought flashes across my mind.
“Hey, Thorn, was your father called Brandon?”
Thorn looks shocked as he gives me a nod. “Yeah, it was. How did you know that? Did you know my dad?”
“I knew some about him, but not personally. He’s missing isn’t he? Known as Ghost by the MC he was affiliated with.” I watch the shock playing across Thorn’s face. “What happened to your momma?”
