As I look over my shoulder to North, he shakes his head. “No fucking idea, but they just worked us over good.”
Sunny steps in front of us once we get in the clubhouse. “Where are your room keys, Van?”
“Leg pocket… fuck, my bike. Ran me…off it…by Brody’s bar.”
“Is it drivable?” North asks.
Vandal shakes his head, but even that makes him wince and hiss.
“Lock, find three prospects and tell them to take the flatbed from the garage and go get his bike.”
“On it,” Lock says. I leave the logistics of who he sends to his judgment.
We get Vandal through the doors and to his room. Reaper reappears with a collection of medical supplies.
“What happened?” I ask Vandal once he’s laid out on his bed.
“Knocked me off my bike. Grabbed me…a van.” He winces and tries to move, but the action causes him to grunt in pain. “Questions about Paltrow.” He sucks in a sob, and my fucking soul breaks in half. “Tortured…me. Can’t…fucking see, Prez.”
Reaper nudges at my chest. “Prez. Let me get him comfortable.”
But Vandal reaches for my hand. “Didn’t tell ‘em…he’s dead.”
I squeeze his hand. “You did good, brother. Anything urgent you think we ought to know?”
He shakes his head, and sobs.
“Rest up, brother. You got him?” I ask, turning to Reaper.
“Yes, sir.” The former navy medic salutes.
“The rest of you, church. Now.”
35
KNOX
On the way down the corridor, I dial Maren’s number. She’d told me she wanted to go back home tonight and paint. Something about what we had done and where we had done it had got her creative juices flowing. I’d hated the idea, given everything going on, but she’d been adamant. So, she’d gone home to paint and have an early night. With the agreement that I could place four prospects around her building.
When she doesn’t answer, I hang up the phone.
“Havoc,” I call out. “A word?”
He hangs back with me, but his eyes are focused in the direction of our rooms. I need to give the man something to do so he doesn’t have time to fall apart for his friend. “What’s up, Prez?”
“We’ve still got hangarounds or prospects around Maren’s place, right?”
He nods. “We do.”
Relief loosens in my chest, but only for a moment. “Can you call one of them? Give them a heads-up that there’s trouble. Tell ‘em what to look for, what to expect.”
Havoc rubs his hand over his jaw. “Kinda weapons our men have got won’t last two minutes against the firepower those?—”
“I know. But it’s better they know, even if it only serves to stop them falling asleep for a couple of hours when they think it’s all quiet. How many semi-automatics do we have?”
“Four.”
“Send one over.”
