Chapter 17—Gator
“You snuck out?”
I glare at Bass as I drink my Red Bull. “Wasn’t like that.”
“Then how was it?” He smirks as he leans against the bar top next to me.
An hour ago, a text went out, notifying everyone that Church was being held this morning. Not often that we get early meetings like this, but I wasn’t going to miss my first official patched-in Church meeting now that I’m a brother. I should just be happy that Law gave all of us an hour to get over here. Usually we only get thirty minutes when it’s short notice like this.
“I left a note.”
Bass pulls his mug of coffee away from his mouth. He doesn’t even take a sip before he looks at me with a raised eyebrow. “You left. A note.” He says it as if his brain isn’t grasping the words.
“What do you want from me, man? Bulldog texts and says Church is at five thirty. She has school today. I wasn’t going to wake her only to get a kiss. Rather her sleep in longer. She’ll get my note and see that I’m not there.”
“Fuck, you’re screwed,” Bass says with a shake of his head as he finally takes a drink.
Probably. I might have learned last night with Bailey that it’s easier to just do what I want than ask, but who knows what that girl’s thinking? Her waking up alone could be a huge mistake for me, but I’m counting on the gift I left her beside the note to make up for it a bit.
Our VP yells, “Church,” and we all make our way to the back room the club uses for special occasions. I follow Bass, not only because he might be the closest brother to me lately, but because he’s done this a million times before, and I’m still green at it. I know the protocol and the rules, but as a prospect, I only got invited in a few times, and only for a small amount of time. There really isn’t a lay of land on who sits where, except for our prez, but I still don’t want to step on toes if I sit in someone’s favorite chair and shit. Not that I think anyone will throw a punch, but it’s fucking early, so who knows how the boys will react to a little irritation.
Thankfully, Bass pulls out two chairs, one for himself and the other for me, as he pushes it at me. I nod in thanks, and he smiles. Guy is always smiling when he ain’t talking. Might be a mistake to get buddy-buddy with the club’s gossip, but he’s a good man. Knows when to keep his trap shut if needed. You just have to let him know it sometimes; otherwise, everyone will know your shit.
Wasn’t surprised when he approached me at the bar when I got here, asking about Bailey. I’m sure half the club saw me take her home and never come back last night. What surprised me was him asking how I was dealing with it all. Bass having feelings talks and getting details on a chick who ain’t someone he’s interested in is definitely something new.
“Shut up, all of you. Law is on his way. Gator.” The VP looks at me as he enters the room, and half the club follows suit. I give him a chin lift as he walks by. “Need to talk to you about something after this.”
I nod, and Bass leans over like a schoolgirl. “What’s that about?”
I shake my head at him. I got a feeling I know, but unlike Bass, ain’t about to gossip about it till I know. Not out of respect, but more because Idon’twant to think about it. The idea of what the VP could have to talk to me about so early is probably not something any man should have to think about.
Law enters, followed by Flint and Mad Max. Both take their seats, Flint on the other side of Law, across from Bulldog, the VP, and Mad Max sits in the one chair behind Law, at the back of the room. No one talks about it, but while Casper is the club’s enforcer, Mad Max is the prez’s personal sergeant at arms. Casper might have to protect the club, but Mad Max has only one focus: keep the prez safe.
“Let’s begin.” Law bangs the scythe-looking gavel, and the room quiets. “Know it’s early, but between what Fairy found and what Flint confirmed, we need eyes and ears on this first thing.”
All the boys straighten, me included. We’re all awake now that we know what this is about. There’s only one thing Fairy is looking for: Candy.
From what I was read in on, someone we all refer to as the Store Owner contacted Fairy on the dark web. Both Flint and I have tried to dive into who they are, but we’ve come up with nothing each time. The Store Owner was looking for Fairy’s uncle, a former CIA spook who got pinned for some sideways shit the agency was connected with and is in lockup. So naturally, our local genius with zero social cues puts her own life on the line to find this Candy person who was kidnapped.
The club has no use or need for Candy or the Store Owner. We just want the person who took her: Duke. The fucker who seems to be of a one-track mind to take down the club. He’s a VP of his own club based out of Texas, but the Devils Damned have him on some fucking recruiting mission or some shit up in Oklahoma. He’s supposed to be there, setting up a sister chapter for his president, but instead he’s here in Kansas being a pain in our asses. Each brother is slowly having a personal issue with this guy.
We know he almost blew up Kitten, he hit Fairy, and we suspect he was behind the kidnapping of Mama Bear and her cubs. Don’t even get me started on the beef the prez has with him. The moment that asshole tried to kidnap his daughter, this shit got personal.
“What’d she find?” This comes from Casper. I can already see the wheels turning behind the former sniper’s eyes. I met a few snipers in my military days, but none compared to him. He sees things from all angles, and I’m sure I’m not the only brother sleeping easily with him on the payroll. While anyone can be a biker, only a few can be Hounds. The club doesn’t allow each person in who wants to pledge. Even I had to jump through a few hoops to prove I could bring something to this club.
“Duke is doubling his pickups. He’s got a deal and needs to bring in two dozen new crops by the end of summer,” Flint supplies for us.
The boys grumble at this till Mad Max speaks. “That ain’t the worst of it. The guy we picked over, looking for information on Candy, gave us specifics. Seems this lot needs to have certain qualifications. Redheads are the primary target, like Candy, but there’s also a high demand for adolescents.”
His words take the air out of the room. Human trafficking is bad enough, but getting kids involved makes it worse. I feel sick to my stomach and notice Bass rubbing his as well.
“How many have been taken so far?” Bass asks.
“Can’t be sure in this line of business, especially at these ages. Right now, I’m tracking fifteen missing. But Duke’s smart, or at least the people he’s working with are. They aren’t targeting the well-known or well-off ones. Those missing all have backgrounds, either troubled youth or known runners in the system,” Flint says as he taps away on his tablet. Guy doesn’t like to be far from his electronics these days. He has so many searches going on looking for Duke, I wouldn’t be surprised if he slept with the thing. He’ll do anything to make sure his woman is safe. He fell long and hard for his girl, and he knows a good thing now that he has it.
“That’s another thing to bring up.” Flint adjusts as he sets the tablet on the table and folds his hands together. “Duke ain’t in the area no more.”
“Says who?” Domino asks.
