“Lemme think. Call Pax, Colt… Fuck this.” I sigh too. “Not Colt, he’s busy. Okay, forget Pax too. I’ll call Dad.” Before Asher can protest, I disconnect. I got no choice but to call Dad.
Almost immediately, I press my phone back to my ear. “Dad,” I grumble when he answers. “They’ve got Brooks. That idiot went off by himself.”
Another sigh. “That kid’s gonna be the death of me. Call Crusher, Tats, and Josh and go get him, Ky. Do what you gotta do.”
As soon as the call ends, I do as he says, and not even twenty minutes later, we’re at our destination.
Crusher is bouncing on the balls of his feet and cracking his neck.
“Dude, calm down.” Tats opens the mag of his revolver. He’s been with the MC for as long as I can remember. He’s about ten years older than me, but he’s been with the club since he got his motorcycle license. With his short mohawk in his dark-blond hair, that perpetual sad look on his face, and the tattoos coveringevery inch of visible skin below his face, he’s a frightening sight. The exact opposite of his calm nature.
In contrast, Crusher is eager to take action. “I’ve been sitting around too long,” he mutters.
“That doesn’t mean you get to act now, though,” Tats grumbles. “Best-case scenario, they’ll just hand Brooks over to us and we’ll be out of here in a few minutes.” Shrugging, he tucks his freshly loaded weapon into the back of his waistband.
“Fuck no.” Crusher cracks his knuckles.
Josh sighs and decides to join the conversation. “Shut up, man. We’ll be lucky if we get away like that. What the hell was Ballistic thinking?” He turns his accusing gaze on me.
Before I can respond, Crusher does. “Oh, Joshie, you afraid they’ll fuck up your pretty little face?”
Shaking my head, I say, “No idea what his plan was. He didn’t discuss it with me.” I nod toward the building. “Shall we?”
Tats nods. “Come on, boys, let’s get him the fuck out of there.” He walks to the door and we all follow him.
Once there, I slam my fist against it. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Josh clenching his fingers over his weapon. I give him a warning look, telling him not to draw too much attention to himself. When the door opens, I spin my head.
Torres appears in the doorway.
Fuck, it’s bad news when the president is there himself.
“Hey, we’re here to pick up Ballistic.” I take out a pack of cigarettes as casually as possible and pull one out.
Torres snorts and laughs at the same time. “You’re here topick ‘im up?”
“Mm-hm,” I grunt, and put the cigarette between my lips. “That’s what you asked me to do, right? No idea what he’s doing here, but whatever.” I look up at him and wiggle the cigarette back and forth between my teeth.
Torres tilts his head. “Your club member stormed in here with two guns drawn and shot five of my people, two of whom are down for the count.” He snorts. “And you’re coming topick him up?”
What the fuck did Brooks do? “Five?”
“He put my club at risk for no reason, Young.”
“Well,” Crusher begins. “He thinks you kidnapped his wife and… hmpf.” He cringes as Josh gives him a not-so-gentle jab in the ribs.
“Kidnapped his wife? What the hell do we want with his wife?”
“Well, there have been some rumors, but we already got intel on where she is. Sorry for the inconvenience. Hand him over to us and we’ll make sure this doesn’t happen again.”
The president of the Knights of Mayhem makes a disapproving clicking sound. “Unfortunately, it won’t be that easy.”
“It will be that easy,” Tats growls beside me. “You hand Ballistic over to us. We’ll make sure he leaves you be, and we’ll make sure you get a pound of coke per corpse from us within two weeks. Free of charge. You can resell it to compensate the families of the two men you lost. What do you say?” Tats looks at Torres with a disinterested expression. “It’s that or you keep him. See how that works out for you?” He shrugs. “He’s called Ballistic for a reason…” he mutters.
I almost swallow my tongue. They’re not keeping him. We don’t leave anyone behind.
Rolling his eyes, Torres mutters, “Fine. But next time you won’t get a call; I’ll shoot him right in that crazy head of his.”
Tats shakes his hand. “Fine.”
