GAUGE
The party was in full swing still, despite it being almost three in the morning. The Bangers knew how to fucking party, that was for damn sure. I’deven seen Shooter grin once or twice, which was practically amiracle in itself.
Iwas deep in conversation with Greasy, VP to Beefcake of the Bangers club. It had been awhile since we spoke, and we could put it down to the beer and feeling relaxed enough to let our guards down for acouple a’ hours, but the truth was, we had more in common than most people.
We’dboth raised ourselves, had kids with women who were no longer around, and we both had Prezes which were more than alittle fucked up after the past month'sdeath toll laying heavy on their shoulders. Rider was out of the running for now, so not only was Isergeant-at-arms for the Highwaymen, currently Iwas also astand-in VP.
“Ijust think we need to work this shit out before it goes too far,” Greasy was saying. Named aptly for his greasy-as-fuck hair that hung well past his shoulders like string beans. God knows when, or if, he’dever washed it.
Isnorted adry laugh. “And you don’tthink it’sgone too far already?” Ipicked up my bottle of beer and took along swallow. “Brother, this shit is already well beyond being sorted out. The shit they pulled with our club—Axle is dead, brother is in the ground, and River is beyond fucked up. Fuck knows if she’ll ever get over that shit. Their two boys are gonna grow up without adad now. Not to mention everything after. No, it’sgone way to fuckin’ far now.”
Music was blaring from the old, beat-up stereo in the corner that, despite its age, still ran like adream. The throbbing bass pumped loudly, and Iwatched from the corner of my eye as Casa turned it up even louder and began doing some weird-ass dance in the middle of the room. Iwould have thought he was fucked up on something if Ididn’tknow any better. But the truth was, Idid know better. Iknew that that crazy fucker was just off-his-case nuts.
Despite the music being so loud, Icould hear acell phone ringing loudly from somewhere. Dom was sitting in the chair next to me, ahalf bottle of Jack in his hand resting on the arm of his chair. His head was thrown back and his eyes were closed. Fucker never could handle his liquor.
“All right, but what are we gonna do?” Greasy continued, “The Razorbacks are serious; they want the Highwaymen gone. The Bangers have your back—we always do, you know this—but there’stalk that they have the Vipers onside now, and they’re not aclub you mess with. Brother, this is only going to end in more bloodshed.”
“Yeah, their blood,” Igritted out. “Did you see what we did to the Reverend? Did you see how we took his whole crew down in one swoop? The Razorbacks are nothin’.”
The cell phone stopped ringing before taking off again, and Iknew then that it was coming from Dom’scut. It was irritating as fuck.
Greasy leaned forward in his chair, the smell of his whiskey breath wafting over my face. “Yeah, and Iheard what they did to your brothers too.”
Idrained the last of my bottle and slammed it down on the table, hoping to startle Dom into waking up and answering his phone. Icouldn’tdisagree with what Greasy was saying, and yet Ialready knew that there was no way we were going to even attempt to reason our way out of this. We weren’tgoing to war; we were already there. Lines had been drawn, blood had been shed, and the only way it ended was with the Razorbacks gone to ground. There was no in between. As much as Irespected Greasy, he was talking in motherfucking riddles if he thought it could end any way but that way.
My initial reaction was to tell Greasy to fuck off, but Shooter had said we needed to handle the situation more carefully because we needed the Bangers onside, and Iagreed. Itook along swig from the bottle, thinking over my words carefully before speaking.
“Listen, firstly, they crossed aline when they went after our women. Despite however this could have been handled, after that move, there is only one way this ends. Tell me you wouldn’tfeel the same way if that had been any of your women.” Iheld his dark-eyed stare until he relented with aheavy sigh and leaned back in his chair. “That’swhat Ithought.”
He lit acigarette, speaking around amouth full of smoke. “Iknow you’re right, and don’tget me wrong, like Isaid, the clubs got your back—Beefcake wants that to be made abundantly clear. It’sjust that this is the goddamn Razorbacks, Gauge. This shit goes deeper than aclub war. Not to mention if they do have the Vipers in their pocket, then we’re all fucked.”
He had me with the Vipers, because they were aclub you didn’tmess with. They stayed out of everyone’sshit, and everyone stayed out of theirs. They dealt in stuff that was darker than any club Iknew would go into, human trafficking being at the forefront of their operation. We’dall heard the stories and the whispers. It was at the point that no one knew what was real and what wasn’tanymore. Any 1% club in their right mind stayed the fuck away from the Vipers because they had no morals to other clubs, or even their own. Money and power were their only currency.
Dom’sphone was still ringing, and Iwas almost certain Casa had turned the music up again. My head was thumping with too much liquor, too much bass, and too much fucking drama.
“You think we don’tknow that? You think…” Iglanced at Dom as his phone finally went silent again. “They crossed aline, and now they have to pay the price. Idon’tcare if they're the ATF or the goddamn CIA”—Greasy laughed at that, but Iheld up my hand and continued— “they’re going to ground for what they did. Every last one of ‘em. For the goddamn disrespect and for the blood they spilled. After what we have planned, no one will even think about messing with our club ever again. And if the Vipers are in bed with the Razorbacks, we’ll deal with it.”
Imeant every word Isaid, but that didn’tmean Iwasn’tworried about the prospect. Any sane—or insane—man would be. And there was no shame in that. Not where the Vipers were concerned.
Dom’sphone stopped ringing and then started up just as quickly.
“Jesus, motherfuckin’ Christ, Dom, wake up and answer your goddamn phone!” Iyelled, shoving him hard enough to wake him.
His bottle slipped from his hand as he jerked awake, and Isnatched the bottle up before he dropped it.
His eyes rolled in their sockets until they focused, his hand fumbling in his cut to grab his phone, all the while muttering incoherently. He finally pulled it out, his eyes going almost cross-eyed as he tried to focus on the name flashing on the screen, but when he couldn'tread it, he sent it to voicemail and put it down on the table in front of him.
“Ineed to piss,” he slurred as he stood up and stumbled away.
Greasy laughed and downed the rest of his beer. “Your boy don’tlook so good.”
Ishook my head, dragging ahand down my beard as Iwatched Dom head past Casa, who was now singing along loudly to whatever screeching monstrosity was playing on the stereo. Some death metal shit that had no real tune to it. It was no secret that Casa and Ishared different tastes in music. If his could even be called that. We were from two different generations, and it showed.
“I’ll be right back,” Greasy said, standing up and heading to the bar where one of the club girls was serving drinks.
Dom’sphone began ringing again, the screen flashing annoyingly on the table as it vibrated against the aged and battered wood.
“Jesus Christ,” Imumbled, picking it up without looking at the screen. “What?!” Ibarked loudly into it, not noting who was calling.
