“What did they take?”
“Not a lot before the alarm triggered. Cameras caught it all, they freaked out when the internal alarm went off. They ran with two smaller crates. The beretta 92s.”
My jaw clenches again as Razer pulls back the door and we all go inside, walking through the rows of shelves that hold regular bike parts and other pieces of crap that hide what is really in here.
Beast is in the back room with a couple of other brothers, looking over the inventory. I know everything that should be in here and there are two boxes missing. Each of those boxes held around five grands worth of semi-automatic handguns. All untraceable.
It’s not a lot in comparison to what else is in here, but it isn’t about the money.
We cannot have a real alarm going off for everyone to hear outside, but the one inside is loud enough to freak anyone out. And I’m glad it worked, together with the sensors and cameras.
“That’s all they managed to grab,” Beast says.
“It’s two boxes too many,” I growl out and walk back to the security room. “Show me,” I lean over the chair where one of our newer members is, and he brings up the security footage. “Fuck.”
They’re covered head to toe, wearing gloves and ski masks. They suspected cameras, but they wouldn’t have had a clue about our deafening security system. These two rooms are completely soundproof. I’ve been stood inside when that alarm went off and it felt like my ears were bleeding.
“I want to know who they are, who sent them, and where I can fucking find them.”
“On it, Prez.”
As much as I want to scream and yell, I keep my mouth shut and walk back through and out into the warehouse. What makes it even worse is that it’s broad fucking daylight. They walked up and thought they could get inside.
No one without prior knowledge of where things are in this warehouse would have been able to go straight to that room. Rebel meets me at the main entrance. He’s already instructing someone to get a new lock organized.
“This came from inside.”
“Yeah,” he agrees.
Neither one of us mentions his name, but Chains knew where the guns were stored.
“Whose watching him?”
“Bullet and Jameson. They said he hasn’t left the garage. No calls, no emails. Just getting on with his job.”
“Giving himself a fucking alibi,” I grind out. I think for a moment as my men work around me to try to fix this. The more I think about it, the more it starts to bother me. “Did we have anything going on today?” I ask.
Rebel frowns. “No. Not today.”
So what the fuck was this? I look back at the warehouse, at all the security around it. Rebel stands beside me, watching me.
“This was a test.”
“What do you mean?”
“They were testing out our security. They grabbed what they could to make it look like they were trying to steal from us, but they wanted to see how we’d react. Check with the clubhouse and the other businesses, see if anything is up.”
Rebel goes to do it. I call Jesse. He’s not talking to me after he found the file on Taylor, and we had some words about it, but he won’t ignore a call. My mind goes back to her lying on the bar top. I’d give anything to be back there sinking my dick into her.
Jesse answers before I can think any further about it.
“Where is Oscar?”
“Playing in the yard.”
“Get him inside.”
“I’m with him.”
