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I got a list of the people who could be coming.
“The cops, feds, agents… I just heard them on the scanner. They’re blocking all the roads leading here, no one in or out. It sounds like they’re bringing an army.”
A chill runs through me. An army? That’s what I said to that bitch of a sheriff. This is Effie’s move.
Releasing Alanna’s hand, I run into the bar, where the brothers are in an uproar, and rush outside.
“Double the locks on the gate!” The prospect and Ricky jump on it. I spin around in a circle, realising there are too many open spaces. Cupping my hands around my mouth, I yell, “Shut up all the garages! Women and kids, inside the bar! Come on, hurry!”
The lot becomes a blur of people running to do as they’re told. In less than a minute, the main house has been cleared, and everyone is in the bar. The door slams shut, leaving Sparky, Leo, Slade, Ricky, and me outside.
“Follow me up to the roof.”
It doesn’t take us long to climb the new, sturdy ladder to the top. As soon as my foot touches down, I see the convoy of law enforcement speeding toward us. We’ve got about a minute, maybe a few seconds more before they reach us.
“Fuck,” Leo growls.
“We ain’t got enough guns to fight them all,” Sparky snaps, focusing on what’s coming our way.
“We have enough for a show of force, for now.”
“Tell me you have a plan, Cas.”
“Sort of. We’ll see what they want first, and then we’ll wait it out. As long as we keep them out, they can’t do shit.”
Sparky asks, “Is this why you had the prospect stocking up on supplies?”
Leo steps out in front of me. “Did you see this coming?”
“Not exactly.”
It’s true. I didn’t see this coming, but it was always a possibility. I just knew something would happen to test us as brothers and a club.
“No one is to leave the bar, not for any fucking reason. Rick, go tell everyone.”
The convoy comes to a stop outside the gates, some parking on the land around the wall.
The sheriff climbs out of her cruiser and joins up with the feds piling out of their vans.
She spots us up on the roof and smiles. I don’t believe in laying hands on a woman, but what I wouldn’t give to punch that smile clean off her face.
“I got that warrant you wanted,” she calls out, waving the papers in the air.
Making sure to keep my lips still, I tell my brothers, “When I say, get your guns out.” Clearing my throat, I holler, “You’ll have a war if you try coming through those gates.”
I see the feds lining up one of their vans to do just that.
“Now, brothers. But no one shoot.”
We all aim our guns at the law. Most of them step behind car doors, and anything that can provide a shield against our bullets.
“It doesn’t have to be this way, Mr. Jackson,” a fed yells.
“I’m afraid it does.” I’m now regretting handing so many guns over to the Dog’s Blood gang. “I have men all over, and the property is rigged. One of you motherfuckers try a thing, it’ll be the last thing you do!”
The fed seems wary, but the sheriff looks frustrated. They have no idea I’m lying through my ass. I hadn’t gotten to that point of securing the club yet, but I’m banking on them not wanting to risk the lives of their men.
“Why don’t you come down to the gate so we can talk!” the fed shouts.
