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“And Nix is?” Lyle drawled.
“My old cell mate,” Ash chimed in, lifting his chin, daring Lyle to ask further questions.
“Did you and him…?” Lyle took the bait.
Ash raised his eyebrows. “Fuck? Yeah. You got something to say about that?”
Lyle returned his stare. “Nope.”
Colt had been waiting for Lyle’s response, too. “Good, ‘cause if anyone’s got anything to say about that, you’re out.”
Jared leaned forward, toward Ash. “Speaking of, are you and our new bartender…?”
Ash blinked and shrugged. “Dane? We were, he’s an old friend. We may again. Not right now. Why, you interested?”
Jared looked down, smiled and shook his head.
“Is he going to prospect?” Rafe asked.
Colt cleared his throat. “Dane is just working the bar, for now. He’s hanging around. And our tattoo artist. Nothing more, nothing less. Anyway, we’re not talking about Dane, we’re talking about Nix,” Colt interjected.
“Why do they want chemicals and shit?” Ash asked.
“One of the pick-up sites is Rafferty’s Pharmacy in town, I thought it was drug related-” Jared began.
Lyle almost snarled. “Sounds like a dirty bomb.”
Colt puffed his cheeks out with an exhale, but didn’t answer.
“I think I speak for us all when I say… fuck,” Lyle said, grimacing. Colt nodded and dipped his head forward, slumping for a moment. Only a moment, just a fraction of a second did he let himself look like a beaten man. In front of his MC, he straightened himself up and carried on like the fighter he was. Phantom nodded at the grit his Prez brought to the table every fucking day.
The disgust of everyone in the room was palpable. Not at Colt, at the situation, every brother knew their Prez would always do the right thing.
Ash cleared his throat. “But we’re not going to let them complete prepping it, are we? We can’t-”
Colt raised his hand, cutting him off. “Believe me,” he spoke loudly, for all to hear, “it will be a cold day in hell before I let any fucking bomb go off.”
His promise settled into the room, like soothing ointment on an angry burn.
Colt pursed his lips, and addressed everyone at the table. “Think how fucking good it will feel when they are off the streets, behind bars.”
There was a general murmur of consensus from around the room.
Colt looked each person in the eyes, sought and received their silent backing. He nodded, satisfied and moved on. “Now, Rafferty wasn’t playing ball, he’s allied with these Guardian fuckers, but he doesn’t want us pulling up loading shit, he’s kicked up a fuss, says we can’t be trusted, the usual shit… So Phantom here has been staking Rafferty out, watching and waiting, to get us some intel, isn’t that right, my man?” Colt nodded to Phantom, and he felt eyes swing to him.
Phantom didn’t nod. He breathed in and out, his nostrils flaring slightly. People had learned to look very carefully at him to see his responses. He never spoke, he’d rarely nod or shake his head. He couldn’t, he wouldn’t. It just wasn’t happening.
Jared sniffed, Lyle leaned in now, Ash huffed. Phantom blinked, and watched it all.
Colt opened up a laptop that was in front of him on the table. With a few taps at the screen, he rigged it so it was also displaying his desktop on one of the flatscreens that was up above the bar, where they’d sometimes show sports. All eyes turned to that screen.
“Turns out Rafferty’s been hiding in the upstairs apartment for the last few weeks, not going home, not doing much to be honest. There’s a small apartment above the shop, Phantom reckons he’s up there.”
Colt began scrolling through the surveillance photos that Phantom had taken. He felt a shot of pride in himself. He knew he was good, he knew he could do this kind of work all day, every day. He was glad the other brothers were seeing that now, too.
“Avoiding us?” Jared asked, frowning at the photos.
“Partly, Phantom reckons there’s more to it, but yeah, he’s clearly not wanting to be found right now… here you can see the other employees at the Pharmacy…” Colt continued, flicking through the photos.
