“We couldn’t breathe and the little ones were crying because their eyes stung. Nora said Coal did that to drive people out of the building, one of his dirty tricks. Garret was leading us to the exit when they attacked. The prospects were outnumbered and they took her. God, I’m so sorry, Jinx, there was nothing we could do.”
I’ve never seen Queenie look so distraught. I’m used to our former club queen being unruffled, but she looks shaken by whatever happened.
“Alright, don’t worry. I’m gonna get her back,” I say without a trace of doubt in my voice. I might be calm on the outside but I’m a burning inferno of fury on the inside. I’m pissed they came to get her because Stripe saw her as his personal property, bought and paid for. I want to track everysingle one of them down and make them pay for daring to lay a finger on my old lady.
I stand up and begin plotting how I’m gonna get her back, as I walk towards my bike. Slate steps in front of me, blocking my path. Jasper and Onyx show up almost instantly. Figures, the other club officers want to plot and plan, but I just want my fuckin’ old lady back.
“Stop and listen to reason,” Slate says.
Jasper adds, “If you get on your bike and go riding out right now, you’ll be a dead man before sunrise. Those Hyenas will rip you apart without thinkin’ twice.”
Onyx throws in his two cents worth, “You can’t rescue her if you’re dead.”
“Those fuckers took my pregnant old lady.” I glance around the parking lot at all my club brothers who are in various stages of fucked up and bleeding before finishing my thought. “I ain’t gonna sit around talkin’, I’m gonna get her back, right goddamn now.” The words fly outta my mouth before I think.
Jasper doesn’t say anything for a second. Then he reaches out and squeezes my shoulder.
“Give us twenty minutes. Then we’ll all go with you to get her,” he says, sincerely. “You’re our sergeant-at-arms. We’re not gonna let you down.”
I’m too choked with emotion to respond for a second.
Jasper turns to the brothers. “We’re havin’ church right goddamn now. Everyone to the chapel. Striker, bring everything you’ve got. Get the injured into the main room and callevery medic we’ve got, and Dr. Marsh too. Tell her we’ve got wounded.”
He looks down at Garret, who is pale and breathing hard. He’s still trying to sit up but Queenie keeps pushing him down again. “Let me up. I’ve got to get back to the gate. We can’t let them back in.”
Jasper’s expression closes down, so the brothers don’t see him get emotional. He presses Garret back down. “You did a good job, prospect. Your gate duty is over until you are seen by our doctor and cleared for duty. The brothers will see to the gate. You just take it easy and recover your strength.”
***
Church is held with very little decorum. Jasper hits the table with his fists instead of his gavel. “I call this meetin’ to order. These fuckers have broken into our property twice in as many years. This time we go scorched earth on their asses.”
When he jerks his chin at Striker, Striker jumps into the conversation. “There’s no way they could have forced their way in here without knowing our set up and being privy to our security planning.”
“You’re tellin’ me this is an inside job?” Jasper demands.
Something crosses Striker’s face. “Yeah. And I think I know who gave them the info.”
Jasper takes a step closer to Striker. “What the fuck? We have a traitor now?”
Striker nods. Slamming his fist against his chest, he says, “It’s me, brother. It’s me.”
The entire room goes quiet because no man in this room believes Striker would betray the club.
“You’ve got about ten seconds to make this make sense before I lose my shit,” Jasper growls.
“It wasn’t intentional.” Striker pulls up an image on the big screen, showing shrink-wrapped bundles on a shelf.
“I don’t understand,” I tell him. “That’s the recovered inventory from the cannery, sitting in our own storeroom in the officer’s storage area.”
“Yeah,” Striker agrees. “And I swept it for power signatures. I got nothing, because one of the bundles has a recording device that’s programmed to wake up when moved. It’s set to record and then transmit data back to the Hyenas twice a day. It’s my fault. I know how clever those bastards are. I should have opened the shrink-wrapped packages and double-checked what was in there.”
“That’s not on you anymore than it’s on me,” Slate tells him. “None of us even thought they could have tampered with the bundles that way. It’s smart if you think about it. Expensive tech is at risk of being stolen by anyone, even their own guys. They added security that happened to trip us up.”
“You also managed to figure it out in the middle of an attack in the wee hours of the morning. I’m just grateful that you were intelligent enough to discover and mitigate the security devices.”
Striker’s expression is still embarrassed, and he isn’t listening to their words.
So, I speak up, “Striker, you did us a solid by finding out how those bastards know our every move. That’s a job well done by anyone’s standards. Tonight, I need that big brain energy of yours to help me find my old lady before it’s too late. Can you do that?”
