I tilt my head from side to side as I consider the proposition. Information for his life… Finally I shrug my shoulders. Fuck it. “All right. Talk.”
“The Renegades,” he blurts out, wasting no time. “They’re working with the Valenciaga Cartel. Trafficking women.”
My blood runs cold. The Renegade Bastards. The club we split from nine months ago when they decided to get into human trafficking. Fuck. This isn’t good news.
“Shut your goddamn mouth!” Frankie screams, his face an alarming shade of red.
I ignore him. “How?”
Johnny licks his bloody lips. “They’re snatching up women from all over. Here, Cali, Vegas, Nashville. You name the big city and they are grabbing bitches and sending them down to Jacksonville. From there, they’re auctioned off to the highest bidders. Rich guys mostly. A lot go overseas.”
My stomach turns. There’s dirty business, and then there’s this kind of filth. Even at our worst, the Bastard Saints never went near trafficking. Hurting women and children is a hard line we will never cross.
“And the hit on our clubhouse?” I ask.
“The Renegades ordered it,” Johnny confirms. “They’re pissed you left the club and joined ranks with the Saints. They want blood. Rogue especially. Says you’re all traitors who need to be put down.”
Rogue. My former Prez and the cocksucker who put money over family when he brought it to the table he wanted to get into the skin trade.
“Is that all you know?” I ask, studying Johnny’s face.
He nods frantically. “That’s everything, I swear to God.”
I believe him. Not because I trust him, but because fear has a way of making men honest. And right now, Johnny stinks of fear.
I nod, processing what he’s told me. Then I turn back to Frankie, pull out my Glock, and shoot him point-blank between the eyes.
The report is deafening in the concrete room. Blood and brain matter spray the wall behind him. His body slumps forward, held up only by the restraints.
“Wait!” Johnny screams, thrashing in his chair. “We had a deal! I told you everything!”
I turn to him, a smirk playing on my lips. “You put your hands on my property.” I aim the Glock at his forehead. “This is for Blue.”
The second shot echoes around the room. Johnny’s head snaps back, a perfect round hole appearing in his forehead before his chin drops to his chest.
For a moment, the room is silent except for the ringing in my ears.
“Well, that was fucking messy,” Beast says like he’s talking about the weather.
I shrug, tucking my gun back into the holster. “Needed to be done.”
Yukon pushes off the wall, coming to stand beside me. “Never seen you lose it like that.”
That’s because I’ve never lost my shit before. I’ve always been able to keep my cool. “They put their hands on my woman.”
“Looks like we’ve found your kryptonite.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “I don’t have any fucking kryptonite. You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” Even as I say the words I know they’re a lie. Demi is under my skin now.
“What he said about the Renegades and the trafficking… That’s fucked up,” Yukon says, changing the subject.
Turning my attention to him I agree, “Yeah. It is. But it makes sense. It’s why we split in the first place. Rogue wanted to expand into that business, and we wouldn’t stand for it.”
“Denali needs to know,” Beast says. “Pee Wee too.”
“Yeah.” I sigh. What a fucking shit shot. “But first, we need to clean this shit up.”
We work quickly, wrapping the bodies in plastic before dragging them to the next room.
