Chaos Bound (15 page)
He positioned himself behind a plumbing van to keep watch. Only five minutes passed before he was rewarded with the sight of a pretty chick with long dark hair and the sweetest heart-shaped ass he’d ever seen.
She headed over to the bike and unbuckled the saddlebag. Tank let out a sigh. Off limits. Any man who rode a bike like that wouldn’t be happy to see another man sniffing around. Hell, if he had a woman like that, he wouldn’t let her out of his sight.
As if on cue, the door to the gas station opened, and a man stepped out and called her. His long hair obscured his face, but he was wearing a Bolton Beaver T-shirt that matched the girl’s hoodie. Tourists. Probably just weekend warriors who took the bike out only on sunny days. What a fucking waste. He turned to leave when the man stepped forward and partially into the light.
One step. So familiar. Something niggled at Tank’s brain, and he turned back and took another look.
The dude was around Tank’s height, but much thinner. His broad shoulders and chest, and the way he carried himself suggested a bigger guy, more muscular. Someone who could ride that Ultra Glide with ease. He waved to the woman, and Tank caught sight of a tat sleeve on his right arm, although he couldn’t make out the details. A memory seized him, and he looked down at the tattoo on his arm. The day after T-Rex was patched into the club, he and Tank had gone to the top tattoo shop in Conundrum to celebrate with matching tats.
His skin prickled and he stared harder at the man who had now retreated into the shadows. The way the dude held himself, the way he moved, his height, the sleeve, all reminded him of T-Rex. And yet T-Rex had at least fifty or sixty pounds on this guy, his hair was always short, and he would never be caught dead in tourist gear or without his cut. And T-Rex would never have been able to afford a bike like that. Hell, he doubted any of the Sinners except maybe Jagger or Zane would be able to drop that sort of cash on a bike.
As if he knew Tank was watching, the dude looked up and stared straight at him. But damned if his hair didn’t hide his face.
Tank’s phone buzzed, and he checked the text. Sparky and Gunner had seen two Jacks just outside of town and needed him to come right away and help chase the bastards down. Tank looked up again, but the man and woman were gone.
* * *
“I think T-Rex is alive.”
Tank paused, letting the Sinner executive board take in the revelation. He’d thought about the dude at the gas station as he and Sparky and Gunner chased and lost the pair of Black Jacks on the mountain pass. He’d thought about him when he returned to the gas station to ask about the couple on the bike. He’d thought about him on the ride home, and while he rolled around in his bed at the clubhouse, remembering the good times he and T-Rex spent together, and how well he knew his best friend.
Maybe not well enough.
“No fucking way.” Zane, the Sinner VP and Jagger’s best friend, folded his arms and glared, his eyes dark. “Dax tortured that Black Jack in our dungeon for three days. There was nothing coming out of that bastard’s mouth that wasn’t the truth. Yeah, it was hard to hear that the body Sparky and Gunner found in the Black Jack dungeon wasn’t T-Rex, and that he was still alive when we had the funeral, but Tank, man, now we know for sure he’s gone. You gotta let it go.”
Why the fuck did everyone keep telling him to let it go? If it had been him in the Black Jack dungeon, T-Rex would never have let it go. Never.
“I pulled the tapes from the gas station.” Tank spun his laptop around so everyone could see. The entire board was present: Jagger and Zane, Gunner and Sparky, Cade, Dax, and the senior member-at-large, Shaggy. T-Rex and Tank had shared the club’s junior member-at-large position and T-Rex’s empty chair was a reminder that someone would soon have to step into his shoes. “The owner wasn’t too happy,” he continued. “I had to pull my weapon and pay a heavy price so he wouldn’t call the cops.”
He pushed PLAY and showed the grainy footage to the board, although even he had to admit it wasn’t convincing. The cameras didn’t capture the things that had made Tank so certain he was looking at T-Rex—the way he held his shoulders and cocked his head when he was talking to the cashier, his stride and his constant fiddling with what Tank was sure was a knife under his shirt. But that damned hair hid his face, and the camera angle made it impossible to see the details of the tat on his arm. “He was buying pizza by the slice,” Tank offered into the silence. He stopped the tape on the best image—a full frontal of the dude, face obscured, but holding a pizza box in his hand.
“Doesn’t even look like him,” Shaggy said. “Wrong body type. Wrong hair. And where’s his cut? Can you imagine T-Rex going anywhere without his cut? Or being free and not high-tailing it back to the Sinners? That boy was born to be a Sinner. He lived and breathed for this club. He’s dead or he’s here at this table, and since I don’t see his face, then he’s not coming back.”
“It’s him,” Tank said, his voice rising in desperation. “Look how he moves…”
“Tank. Brother.” Jagger held up his hand. “It’s hard to lose a brother, but T-Rex was special, and we all know he was your closest friend. You’re gonna see him in so many faces. You’re gonna hear his voice again and again. And always you turn only to find out it’s not him, and you feel like someone’s just punched you in the gut. I’ve been through it. We all have. And although it’s hard to hear it now, it will get easier. Just give it time.”
“I just want to go back up there and check it out, maybe ask a few questions, drive around…”
“I hear you, brother,” Jagger said. “But if the man you saw was T-Rex, then he’s not in danger and he’ll be making his way home. If we weren’t at war with the Black Jacks, I’d drive up there with you to check it out, but these are dangerous times. I can’t let you go alone, and I can’t spare the men to go with you.” He thudded his fist on the table. “I’m not losing another brother to those goddam bastard Jacks.”
Tank turned the laptop around and threw himself down in his seat. Jagger didn’t know T-Rex the way he did. Hell, none of them did. That was T-Rex at the gas station. And damned if Tank wasn’t going to find him.
Zane stared at him while Cade gave this treasurer’s report, gloomy as usual because of the war with the Jacks. Cade had even pulled his new old lady, Dawn, from club finance duties because he was worried about her and their kids. Tank couldn’t blame him for that.
But Jesus Fuck he wanted Zane to stop staring at him. The VP had mellowed since he’d hooked up with his old flame, Evie, and discovered he had a son, Ty. But mellow for Zane was one hundred degrees of intensity for a normal guy, and Tank felt like Zane’s eyes were burning into his soul, reading the betrayal Tank was only thinking about.
He tightened his fist under the table. Of all the Sinners, Zane should have been the one giving Tank his support. T-Rex had sacrificed his life to save Evie. Zane owed T-Rex a life debt, and if T-Rex was in need of saving, Zane should have been by Tank’s side.
“Something is up with the Jacks,” Jagger said. “Something big. Even our mother chapter is worried. Our man Mario, who we had inside Viper’s house for a couple of weeks, skipped town after he buried a knife in Viper’s back to save Evie, and National isn’t willing to risk any more lives or the resources.
“We should focus on offense. Not defense.” Shaggy stroked his beard. “What about Viper’s cabin up in the mountains where he held Ty and Evie? Now that we know the location—”
Jagger cut him off with a wave of his hand. “I sent Dax and Sparky up there to take a look. The place is deserted.”
“He had another dungeon in his basement,” Sparky said. “Never saw anything like it. He’s one sick bastard. The place was Dax’s fucking wet dream. It must have been where he kept T-Rex when we thought he was in the Black Jack dungeon.”
Dax snorted his derision. “Viper tortures for pleasure. I torture with purpose.”
“Don’t fucking pretend you don’t enjoy it,” Shaggy said. “The minute you hear we got someone downstairs you start drooling and get a fucking hard on that won’t quit.”
“That’s cause I’m twice the man you are.” Dax grabbed his crotch and jerked his hips in his chair. “I got five boys at home and a damned happy old lady. If that’s not a fucking show of virility I don’t know what is. How many kids you got? All these years and you’re still fucking sweet butts ‘cause none of them will have you permanent like.”
“Variety, my friend. That’s the way I live my life.” Shaggy’s thick, gray brows furrowed, hiding his eyes, and his voice dropped so low Tank had to lean in to hear him. “No old lady to tie me down or nag me about staying out late. No sprog to drain my bank account. I live free and I live large. Couldn’t ask for anything more.”
“If we’re done trading insults,” Jagger interrupted, “I want to know what the Jacks are doing up in the mountains. They’ve been lying low for the past few weeks, and suddenly they’re buzzing around tourist resorts. I got reports of them in Bolton, and now we know they’ve been up in Still Water.”
Bolton.
Tank cocked his head to the side. The couple on the flashy Harley were wearing Bolton shirts. But the place was a tourist town, and the shop owner said that he thought they were tourists. Was it a coincidence, or something more? He wanted to raise the issue again with Jagger, but now wasn’t the time.
“I say fuck National and plant another spy in the Jacks.” Gunner thumped his fist on the table. “We got the best intel we’ve ever had when we bribed Mario to go inside.”
“Send Gunner.” Shaggy gave him a sly look. “He needs to go into hiding. Every damn weekend some chick’s husband is hunting him down. He’s moved on from twins to married women, and his extra nine lives are the only reason he’s sittin’ here today.”
“You’re fuckin’ jealous ’cause your dick shriveled up twenty years ago.” Gunner folded his arms over his massive chest. “And yeah. Married women. That’s the way to go, man. They’re not looking to be tied down ’cause they already are. But they’re not getting any lovin’ at home so when I get them in my bed … Christ … they’re hot. And they’ll go all fucking night long ’cause they don’t know when they’ll get it so good again.”
“You didn’t go all night long last weekend.” Shaggy laughed. “Most fun I ever had, watching you running with your jeans undone, and your dick hanging out when that Skull Splitter MC dude drove into the parking lot behind Rider’s Bar and found you fucking his woman for information about the Jacks. Next time I’ll come along. Give you a hand.”
“Christ. We’re gonna fuck our way into winning the war,” Shaggy grumbled. “Never would have happened back in the day.”
“That’s ’cause back in the day, you couldn’t find your dick,” Gunner retorted.
If it had been back in the day—three months earlier when T-Rex was still alive—it would have been Tank and T-Rex joking about women, offering to hunt down and bed some Black Jack support club chicks, placing bets, then meeting up at Rider’s Bar to share their experiences.
But it wasn’t back in the day. Life hadn’t been the same since T-Rex went missing. The world was duller, quieter, and bleaker. He didn’t go to the gym where they’d trained together anymore. He never ate pizza at T-Rex’s favorite restaurant, Papa Joe’s, where Tank had always given T-Rex a hard time for ordering ham and pineapple. Seriously. Who the heck put fruit on a pizza?
He stared at the image on the screen and his eyes focused on the pizza box, the words barely visible on the side: Ham and Pineapple.
T-Rex. That’s who.
“I’m a bad girl.” Naiya trailed her hand over the sleek, shiny surface of an AK-47. “I’ve never been an accessory to murder, stolen a motorcycle, or broken into a weapons shed before.”
“And you’ll never do it again if you’re not quiet.” Holt lifted the gun and shoved it in his pack, his face an expressionless mask. “Jagger knows about this cache, and I wouldn’t put it past him to have someone on watch.”
Naiya sighed. Her attempt to lighten Holt’s mood had fallen flat. Something had broken between them at the boat launch—the stirrings of intimacy and trust she’d felt at the cabin were gone. And she’d made it worse with her fake story about the message that would go to Jagger if she died. But when she’d looked into Holt’s eyes and saw nothing there but cold, steely determination, she had to find some way to shift the power balance. Maybe Holt hadn’t really intended to use her against Viper. Maybe she’d let fear cloud her vision. But what was she now? A prisoner? Would Holt really stop her if she walked away?
“How do you know about this cache? I thought bikers kept their weapons in heavily fortified facilities. At least Viper always did.” She pulled another weapon from the box, smaller, but with a wider handle. Naiya had never held a gun. Although there had been plenty of weapons lying around her mother’s apartment, she had no interest in touching them, and even less interest in taking up any of the Jacks on their offers to teach her how to shoot.
“Mad Dog Sanchez, VP of the Devil’s Brethren, stole the guns from another club and hid them in his sister’s house. Long story short, he’s dead. His sister went into witness protection. Jagger sent me to have a chat with her before she left to make sure she understood we’d find her if she said anything or did anything that hurt Cade’s old lady, Dawn or her kids. Dawn was Mad Dog’s old lady. Cade is the Sinner Treasurer. Mad Dog’s sister told me where Mad Dog had hidden the guns as a show of good faith. I told Jagger. He said to keep it quiet. The fewer people knew about them, the better.”
“Sounds like a soap opera. I’m not even going to pretend I followed all that.”
“Once you’re in the life, it’s in your blood. The brothers are your family.” His voice tightened. “You try to leave and you get sucked back in.”
Naiya aimed the gun at the window, her gaze focused on the woods beyond. Evening light filtered between the branches, bathing the forest in an orange glow. “You’re trying to leave. Why do you think you won’t get sucked back in?”
“’Cause there won’t be anybody left.”
Holt came up behind her and covered her hands with his to reposition the weapon, but the warmth of his body couldn’t melt the chill in her blood. Was he really going to kill his brothers? What about their old ladies and kids? Who was this man she was travelling with, and how deep did his hatred go?