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“I’m aware.”
“I still think you should call Chaser and maybe feel him out,” Teller says.
“Let’s check this out tonight first. If nothing comes of it, I’ll call Chaser.” I turn, staring out the window at the back parking lot and the shed out back. “If it is happening, then Chaser and I need to have a whole different discussion.”
Chapter Eighteen
Z
“Tell Grip to stop right before the roadway to Malone’s. Have him pull the van to the edge of the woods,” I order Murphy.
“You got it.”
I do the same, slowly steering my truck off the shoulder and down a steep slope of grass.
“Maybe back it in?” Teller suggests.
“Good call,” I grunt, shifting the truck into reverse.
It’s dark and quiet as we slip out of the truck and walk over to meet the guys in the van. Steer and Shadow should already be in Malone’s parking lot.
“Grip, stay here and stay alert. No fucking around on your phone.”
“Got it, Prez.”
My phone buzzes with a text from Steer. Nothing.
I answer: On our way.
I’d taken a look at an aerial map before we left the clubhouse and call up the same map on my phone now. “Jiggy, Rooster, take this corner closest to the dumpster. Hustler, take the far left corner. You should meet up with Steer there.”
Murphy raises an eyebrow, waiting for more instructions. “Stick with me.”
We cut through the woods and emerge at the bottom of Malone’s parking lot. Music thumps through the air, but the parking lot only has a few scattered cars and two bikes.
“Not that busy,” Rooster whispers.
“No other bikes besides our guys either,” Jigsaw says.
“They could be around back.” I point in the direction of the cracked asphalt that wraps around the side of the building.
I check my phone but nothing more from Steer. Nothing at all from Shadow.
This reeks of a set-up.
“Go get into your positions.” I nod toward the building. Hustler, Jigsaw, and Rooster take off.
Murphy, Teller, and I approach the low, concrete wall surrounding the dumpster.
“This is bullshit,” Murphy mutters.
“Tell me about it.”
We stop at the wall and the three of us survey the parking lot.
“DeLova would roll up with an entourage ten deep coming into our territory to meet another MC,” Murphy says.
“At least. Jesus Christ, he comes in a damn caravan to his own son-in-law’s clubhouse.”
Teller shifts and checks his phone. “We could be early. Not like Shadow had lots of useful details.”
My phone vibrates and I check the incoming text.
Hustler: I don’t see either of them anywhere.
Fucking great.
I text Jigsaw and Rooster, but neither of them has seen Shadow or Steer either.
Tension curls in my stomach. What if Steer and Shadow are working together and lured us out here? What if Shadow took Steer out and he’s waiting to nab the rest of us?
It’s never good when you’re questioning your brothers’ loyalty.
The rumble and whine of multiple bikes has us ducking back behind the wall.
“That ain’t Vipers, unless they’re lettin’ members run rice burners now,” Murphy mutters.
Teller snorts and shakes his head. “They could be recruiting anyone.”
The bikes pull up to the left of the building. Sticking to the shadows, I take a chance and step out to see who’s arrived. “None of them are wearing colors.”
“They’re cowards.” Teller brushes up against my side. “They want to do business on our turf, they might not bother wearing colors.”
“True. Still don’t see a single vehicle here Emperor DeLova would sit his dainty ass in,” I say.
My phone vibrates and I step back behind the wall to check the message.
Rooster: Who rode up?
Me: Not sure. No colors.
My phone vibrates again.
Steer: Shadow went inside.
“Godfuckingdammit! I told that motherfucker to stay outside.”
I warn the rest of them to stay put.
A few minutes later, a girl runs out the front door, gets into a red sedan, and speeds off. “That’s not ominous or anything,” Teller says, watching the car until it disappears around the bend.
“I can’t see shit,” Murphy says in a low voice.
“Me either.”
My phone goes off again.
Shadow: They’re not here yet.
Me: Get your ass outside.
Shadow: ??? I am.
Who’s lying? Steer or Shadow? I don’t want to let my dislike and distrust of Shadow cloud my judgment. But I have no reason not to believe Steer.
Sensing my dilemma, Teller touches my shoulder. “I’ll go check.”
“Don’t.”
He lifts his chin. “Rooster and Jigsaw should be right up there. If I don’t see anyone, I’ll come right back.”
Murphy scowls at Teller as he creeps along the side of the building.
“Let’s go.” I jerk my chin toward the direction Teller just went. Hiding out behind the fucking dumpster all night doesn’t exactly make me a good president or brother.
Teller grins at me when we reach his side. “Jesus, Dad. I wasn’t gone long.”
“Don’t start that Dad shit with me like you two do to Rock.”
“I didn’t say a word.” Murphy smirks at me. “Dad.”
“Asshole.” I search the area behind the bowling area. A large field of grass leading into a more heavily wooded area. Plenty of places to hide.
“Come to join our party?” Jigsaw asks.
“Some party,” I answer without taking my eyes off the tree line.
“The place is dead inside,” Rooster says.
There’s a small shed a few feet away. I motion the guys to move over to it so there’s something between the woods and us. “You went in?”
“No.” He points toward the open windows in the back. “This place is noisy as fuck when the lanes are open and in use.”
He’s right. Other than the steady beat of music, there are no other sounds.
A metallic bang inside the building draws our attention toward the back door.
Finally, a text from Steer shows up.
Steer: Hustler’s with me. I still don’t see Shadow.
I give him our location and wait for them to meet us.
“They lost sight of Shadow.” I sweep the area again, but nothing stands out. “He said he was out here.”
All of our phones buzz.
Shadow: I’m down. Right inside back door.
Fuck me.
Me: We’re coming.
I turn to Rooster and Jigsaw. “Tell Grip to get ready. Stay here and watch our backs.” Teller and Murphy follow me to the building. Halfway there, we run into Steer and Hustler. “What the fuck?” I keep my voice low, but my irritation comes through clearly. “How’d you lose sight of Shadow?”
Not used to being questioned, Steer glares at me before answering. “Said he heard something and went to check on it.”
I send Hustler back to the others and motion for Steer to follow us inside.
Before touching anything, I slip on my black leather gloves. The cheap screen door creaks as I pull it open. This place really is a dump.
The stench of gasoline sears my nostrils when we step inside.
It takes a second to locate Shadow’s crumpled form in a heap on the floor. Steer rushes over and helps him up.
“You all right, brother?” I ask.
He rubs the back of his head. “Two guys jumped me.”
“You should’ve stayed put.” I jerk my head toward the door. “Get him outside.”
“No way, Prez,” Shadow reaches out, grabbing at my cut. “I ain’t leaving until I get the motherfucker who whacked me.”
Murphy cre
eps toward the door leading into the main part of the bowling alley. “How many?” he asks Shadow.
“Don’t know. Two? Three?”
Teller eases over to where we found Shadow, crouching down to examine the spot. To our left, there’s a whoosh and roar.
Suddenly, that gasoline scent takes on a whole different level of importance.
“Get him out of here!” I slap Steer on the back and he pulls Shadow to the door.
Flames climb the wall to my left and spread out over the ceiling. My gaze lands on a stack of red gas cans bundled together in the corner like a do-it-yourself nuke.
“The building’s gonna blow.” I wrap my hand around Murphy’s bicep and yank him toward the open door. “Teller. Move it. Now!”
Confident they’re both behind me, I haul ass out the door and keep on going. Murphy’s arm brushes against mine and I turn slightly, surprised Teller isn’t right next to him. “Teller?”
“He’s coming.”
Something a lot louder than the crackling flames whizzes by.
