Hendo nodded.
“Call whoever has them and tell them to drop them both off at Legacy hospital, unharmed. Do you understand?”
Hendo pulled out his cell phone and did as I instructed.
“Good. Now, I’ll tell you what. I want you to pick five guys in your club that you trust. Members without records for trafficking or drugs.”
“For what?” he asked.
“To prospect for my club. We’re growing and I need some guys who know these streets. Not every member of your club is a complete degenerate. Iknow that. But if you think you and a handful of your guys could hack it, I’m willing to look at patching in some new blood.”
Hendo held out his hand and I shook it. “As for the rest?”
“As of now, the rest of your club are civilians. I don’t give a rat’s ass if any of them patch in someplace else, as long as it’s not in the Pacific Northwest. I mean it. If I see Spiders’ colors in my back yard, I’ll holdyoupersonally responsible.”
“Fair enough,” Hendo said. “And thanks for the invitation. I’ll find some guys for you.”
“And you?” I asked.
He grinned. “You’ll see me around.”
I nodded.
* * *
Rooster
While my brothers were celebrating, I’d stepped off to the side and called Katie. I knew Hatch was fucked up and he was gonna need medical attention. What I didn’t expect was how quickly it would all unfold.
“Where are you?” Katie demanded immediately.
“I can’t tell you that just yet. I need you to listen. Hatch is kind of fucked up.”
“Fucked up, how?”
“Not entirely sure the extent of it, but he’s gonna need medical attention, so we’re gonna bring him back to the club. Can you meet us?”
“Fucking hell, what did you do?”
“Can. You. Meet. Us?” I hissed.
“Kam—”
“Baby, please don’t give me shit right now. I promise I’ll explain everything as soon as I see you. Will you meet us at the club?”
“No.” She let out a long, worried, but irritated sigh. “Bring him to the clinic. I’ll call Gina.”
I hung up and walked back into the fray just as I watched my president and mentor go down.
Hard.
“Hatch!” Flea bellowed catching him before his head hit the mud.
I rushed to help, and between Flea, Mack, Train, and I, we gingerly carried Hatch to one of the club vans, setting him gently across one of the bench seats.
Ace climbed in the back with him since he’d had some medical training back in his armed forces days. While Flea drove, Mack rode shotgun, and Train and I planned to follow on our bikes.
“Katie will meet us at the clinic,” I bellowed over the roar of the pipes. “She’s calling Gina.”
