“What's the last interaction people had with Macbeth?” Crash asked.
For some reason, I stayed silent. I didn't want them all to know I had fallen for his bullshit.
“I haven't seen him much since the club,” Vienna said.
“What club?” I asked, my ears pricking at the word.
“The one where we took Ben,” he responded with a shrug. “He disappeared, but that's nothing new. Macbeth doesn't like to get involved with most of the club business. And then he wondered why he was never chosen for VP.”
“Anyone else remember when they last saw Macbeth?”
“Disappeared where?” I persisted, ignoring Crash's question.
“Damned if I know, Rachel. He just disappeared. It was easier without him, anyway.”
“Forget it. Let's try a different approach. Does anyone have the faintest idea of who might be behind this?” Crash asked.
I didn't say much as they spoke amongst themselves. I was too busy digesting what Vienna had said. An awful feeling was bubbling in my stomach. If my suspicions were correct, this was about to get a whole lot messier than just two motorcycle clubs going to war.
“It's got to be the Riders, right? After we killed that prospect, this is their response. They've escalated.” Hacksaw was the first to respond.
“An act of war over a prospect?” Vienna shook his head. “Why would they do that?”
“Who says they’re going to kill him? Maybe they’re hoping we won’t declare war if they just rough him up and return him to us more or less whole?”
“That’s a stupid fucking idea,” Crash spat at Hacksaw. “If they were going to do that, they’d choose someone other than the president’s son. No, they have to have another motive inmind. Something that would be worth the risk of us retaliating in kind.”
“Perhaps they thought it worth it? What's the point of playing the long game? I think we've all known for a long time where this was headed. They killed Mickey, we killed their prospect. They kill another of our members, we kill another of theirs. It was always going to be tit for tat, until we were in a war that was drawn out over months, maybe years. We were always toeing the line, but now they've cut corners and just gone for the big guys,” Shark said, but it sounded as though he was thinking out loud, rather than something he believed for a certain fact. Crash walked over to the window as Shark spoke, looking out at the direction Dante was taken, keeping his back to us.
“Alright,” I began, “I know I'm new here, but I can't see why they would do that. War means death. And war doesn't discriminate. There's a huge chance someone important could die. Like their president, for example. Fair enough, if they are behind this, then they've got our VP, but is it worth losing their top dog?”
My stomach twisted at the reminder.
They've got Dante. How is this even fucking possible?
“Who else could it have been?” Hacksaw said.
“Who else would want to cause harm?”
“Lots of people,” Vienna laughed. “We have enemies up and down the country. But none of them are strong enough to take us on. No one other than the Riders would even have a chance.”
“But if they had Macbeth on their side, wouldn't that change things?”
“Rachel, why are you so adamant that it's not them?” Crash asked, still looking out of the window.
“I'm not adamant. I'm not saying it'snotthem. I just don't think they were working alone. I've been thinking—”
“Oh, well, ifRachelhas been thinking, it must be right!” Mama piped up.
“Oh, have we emerged from our pity party? N'aww. Are we feeling better?” I asked her, using the same tone I would use to speak to a young child.
“Let her speak, Mama,” Crash said when she opened her mouth to respond to me. I raised my eyebrows, both impressedwith how he knew the exact moment she was about to talk, even though he wasn't looking at her, and the fact that he was allowing me to have a voice.
“Thank you. As I said, I've been thinking. Dante told me that the Riders were clever. He told me about Mickey, and how they had made it look as though it was a random attack. So, if they were behind what happened here tonight, it just makes it seem like there would be a buffer - a scapegoat, if you will. They're the puppet masters, but their puppets are going to be the ones to take the blame.”
“It does sound like something they would do. But who could they be working with?”
“I was thinking—”
