Flint shrugs. “Says the intel. Fairy and Mad Max have been hearing the same chatter from their pickups too. Duke might run the show, but he ain’t doing it locally. Got feelers out, but we think he’s south.”
“Back to his club? Back with the Devils Dammed?” This from Jumper.
“No. Psy, the president down there, might not be taking my calls, but I’ve got enough people watching. He might be in Texas, but he ain’t back with his club,” Law says for the table.
“Right.” Flint nods. “So that means we’re looking at others in play in the area. No intel on who’s doing the delivery on this new lot, but it ain’t Duke himself. At least not with the initial smash-and-grab going on.”
“Lady got any intel on the missing kids?” Kooper asks our VP. Lady was a foster kid herself and knows what it’s like to bounce from house to house and not get adopted but rather age out of the system. Unlike a lot of kids, she took it as her calling and went into Child Protective Services as soon as she could to help others. I admire the dedication she has for the job, as we all do.
“She’s looking into it, but she can’t put out too many feelers without someone asking questions. If we want to keep this in-house, then she has to be careful.” Bulldog looks at our prez. “I don’t think this is something we should keep quiet. Making waves might save a kid.”
“Or make Duke and his team more desperate,” I say. The group turns to me, and I continue. “Men who get backed into a corner seem to come out swinging. Right now, we only know that they’re taken. You get the cops and media involved, it could get someone killed in desperation. Either one of the kids or some rookie cop trying to take on something they’re not prepped for.”
I get a few nods as Law rubs at his beard. Hounds all get a say at the table, and we usually vote on a lot of shit, but in the end, the call lies on our prez’s shoulder.
“I get what you’re sayin’, Gator, but I’d rather have more eyes on the street. We’re running thin with trying to keep our own protected, as it’s on top of the other things we got going on daily.” I nod in understanding, and Law continues. “Flint, spread the word to the sister chapters. If Duke has a large haul coming in, the other districts might also have the same quota to meet. Give them the intel we have so they can keep eyes open for kids going missing too.” Flint nods as he types away on his tablet. “Casper, reach out to the boys in the PD. They usually got no problem staying out of our business, but I’m not sure how they’ll feel once we tell them to take up eyes but not engage. I want them to pay attention, but like Gator said, I don’t want any heroes. Make it clear they can look but not touch. They see something, they call us.”
“We want to bring in any other players?” Bass asks with a slow look around the table.
“Like who?” Chains chimes in.
Bass shrugs, like it’s no big deal, but the names out of his mouth could lead to a whole other group of trouble. “Crazy Eights or Jimmy Travis.”
Mad Max is shaking his head already. Ten-to-one odds, he doesn’t want his soon-to-be father-in-law connected with this. Not that he’s popped the question, but we all know he and Fairy are a sure thing. And while Jimmy Travis, former CIA operative with a chip on his shoulder, already offered to help us out, I don’t think we want to waste his offer on something like this.
Don’t get me wrong, this shit is major, and I want Duke found and gutted like the next person. But an offer of help from Jimmy Travis is something you take when your back’s against the wall and you want help starting a war. His reach is far and wide. He can get you anything you want, but there’s a cost. Always a cost. Could be years in the battle, or lives on the ground, but Jimmy’s help is not something you take lightly. It’s the kind of Hail Mary pass you need when all else fails.
As for the Crazy Eights, we’re already indebted to them. We just don’t know what they want yet. Adding one more is not something I’m sure any Hound at this table is willing to take on unless we have terms. We also have no clue whose side they’re on. Sure, they helped us find Mama Bear and the kids, but that just means we owe them. They might not care about this at all, but I got a feeling they won’t like it, especially since they dropped their fee from three favors to one once they saw kids were also taken with Mama Bear.
“Not yet. If we play this right, maybe they’ll come to us in the end. Unless Flint can’t get locked in on things for sure and we know we can’t handle it in-house, let’s keep the outside players where they are. Church dismissed.” Law bangs the gavel once more, and the boys move. “Gator, hang back for a second.”
Bass looks over at me as I sit back down, and he does the same. I also notice Flint and Bulldog still seated by our prez. The rest of the brothers file out, and a few give me some chin lifts. Not sure what I did to deserve the special treatment, but I ain’t going to shy away from it.
“Hear you got yourself a Troublemaker,” Law says with a wide grin and a raised eyebrow.
The boys laugh, and I just smile. “Seems that way.” I lean on the table, folding my arms on it. “That going to be a problem?” I might be newly patched in, but I’ve never known the club to step in like this. I would have chalked it up to just good old-fashioned ribbing, but you do that at the bar, not in Church. Well, not that I’m aware of, anyway. Something about being in this room has me thinking that everything has a double meaning. That nothing is just for laughs but for a reason.
“No issue here as long as you don’t screw it up for me and my woman,” Flint says with a head tilt.
“Only issue I’ve got is what the fuck your dad is doing sniffing around my ma,” Bulldog snarls, and my eyes widen a bit, though not out of fear but rather confusion.
“Oh fuck, did you two just become stepbrothers?” Bass bends his head back and laughs into the rafters.
“Fuck off, Bass. It doesn’t mean shit. He just has to get his old man to back off.”
“Last thing I saw wasyourmom coming on to my dad. Pretty sure you’re the one who needs to put a stop to whatever it is before it gets started.”
I might be considered the new kid, but I’m fully patched in now. Bulldog doesn’t have the same weight against me as he did when I was a prospect. He’ll always have my respect with him being the VP, but this ain’t a conversation his title is needed in. Just two brothers who don’t want any awkward family meals in their future.
“From the noises coming out of the bunkroom last night, I’m pretty sure that boat has sailed,” Bass cackles.
“You knew?” The steam rising off Bulldog would be comical if I weren’t part of the conversation. At least his anger is directed at Bass and not at me.
Bass shrugs it off as he laughs. “Only knew Gator’s dad was getting laid, had no clue who it was. Wasn’t about to watchthat. I’m all for enjoying the show of a vamp, but not on an old man’s dick. Thank God I didn’t. Would have been scarred for life seeing Margret.” He shudders, and the rest of us do, too—except for Bulldog, who’s still pissed.
But before he can say anything else, Law gets us back on track. “There will be plenty of time to figure out if Princess has a new uncle or not later. What I want to know is if you trust your Troublemaker enough to bring her in on this.”
“Trust how?” I trust Bailey unconditionally, but there are some things I don’t want her involved in. If I’d been here when Fairy was sent in undercover, I would have protested it alongside Mad Max. Not that I think women can’t do shit—we’ve got some badass old ladies in this club who prove they don’t need a man every single day. It’s the safety of it all. No way would I put someone who is or could be an old lady in that type of ordeal. I lost someone once, someone as close as a man can get to another man, and I don’t wish that type of loss on anyone. Love is easy, be it the love of your life or a brotherly love. It’s picking up the pieces after it all crumbles that’s the hard part.
