“All this shit is my fault.”
“Fuck off, Chasm,” Dutch snapped. “You couldn’t have prevented this shit. If anyone’s to blame its Valentinetti. He dropped the fucking ball and let St. James get away.”
“They were her nephews. I should have known she was the one who turned them,” I said, turning away from the past and moving to the table.
“Kimberly St. James walked away from that shit because she wanted a better life. It just so happened she fell in love with a biker. You can run from your family, but not your destiny.”
I looked at Dutch. “Destiny, huh?” I smiled when his ears turned pink. He shrugged.
“It’s either destiny or a shitty life. I prefer to believe in destiny.”
Before he could explain, the others started piling in. We all took our seats, and I struck the gavel on the table.
“What do we have?” I asked Omen.
“I’ve been through the phone. Zephyr’s using a burner; it pings all over the fucking world, so I can’t pinpoint where he’s holing up. But I’ve been reading through the texts Nathan sent,and I think I can mimic him. Make Zephyr believe he’s talking to his son.”
“What would be the point?” Dutch asked.
I looked at the old man and sighed. It wasn’t his fault, but the longer I was back, the more disheartened I became with how quickly he could slip from philosopher to idiot.
“The point,” Omen stressed, “is to get him to meet his son somewhere, and we’ll be there to ambush him.”
“We have to be sure though, otherwise we’ll be the ones who are ambushed,” B pointed out.
“I already texted him,” Omen said, his eyes on me, waiting for me to get angry.
My hands clenched on the table. When this shit was done, there would be a reckoning. I couldn’t lead men who did their own fucking thing.
“What did you say?” Krypto asked, his eyes darting between me and Omen.
“I told him the truth. That his men tried to attack and were dead, but that I had gotten Sully out of the clubhouse during the distraction.”
“Did he believe it?” Monty asked.
I sat there listening, watching my men to see how they responded to the blatant disregard for my authority.
Omen smiled. “He did. He wants to meet at the diner where they met before. I told him I’d be there at four.”
“Do we know where the diner is?” I asked, keeping my anger tamped down. I’d deal with him when this shit was over.
“Well, not exactly. But his phone has GPS, so I know where he’s been. There are two diners that he’s been to numerous times.”
“How do we know which one Zephyr is at?” Scorpion asked.
“We don’t,” Smokey said, his eyes on me. “We have to split up.” He looked at Omen. “You’re a fucking asshole, you know that?”
Omen’s eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open. “What the fuck? I got us two possible answers we didn’t have before.”
“Two answers that cuts our numbers in half. If Zephyr knows we’re on to him, then he’ll have men in both places ready to fuck us in the ass while he attacks the clubhouse and takes our fucking women,” Smokey bellowed, and Omen winced.
“And if we don’t show up to either, he knows his son is probably dead,” I added, sitting forward. “I told you all the first day I was here, shit was going to be different. We make these fucking decisions together so we can talk out the possible outcomes before we shoot ourselves in the ass.”
“So what do we do?” Ambush asked.
“I can make a call, Prez,” Crater said.
“To whom?” I asked.
