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“Anything I should be worried about?”
“I’m not sure. Give me ten. If I ain’t got nothing by then, come out. There was nothing in the feed prior to them going out. Most likely, a big ass bird hit them and fucked‘em up somehow.”
“Alright.”
I get to my bike, and that’s when Whitley calls.“Fuck!” I can’t talk to him right now. I need to see what the fuck is going on. I do something I never do, and I ignore the call. I immediately text him.
Me: I can’t talk right now. Club shit came up. Gotta handle it real quick. Ill cb soon. I love you
Pocketing my phone, I drive out to the gate. When I get there, I go straight to the power box off to the side. Opening it up, I see that there isn’t a thing wrong with the power supply or any cords. Using the flashlight I keep stored in the box, I tilt it up to the camera, and everything looks fine. I sweep to the other side when the light catches on something on the ground. I quickly override the gate so it opens.
Moving my light to the mass, I see that it’s a body.
“Oh, shit.”
I head back to my bike and turn the handles so I can attempt to light up the body better. Of course, this happens in the fucking dark. I grab my riding gloves out of my saddlebags and put them on. Going back to the body, I roll it to the side and shine my flashlight on their head.
“Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
It’s Steffie. It’s fucking Steffie. Steffie’s dead body is outside our gate.
“Shit!”
No, no, no, no, no. This can’t be happening. There is no one that would kill her besides one of the men I left back in the club. Shit. What the fuck am I going to do? Right then, my phone vibrates, and the cameras are all back online. Right there, on my screen, is me kneeling next to Steffie’s body.Shit!
I back up and start to panic. I didn’t do this. I have no reason to kill her. Just because she’s a total cunt doesn’t mean I resorted to murder. Fuck! Goddammit. I need Whitley. I need him so badly.
Me: Whit something happened and I don’t know what to do. What do I do? I need you. Fuck!
I know that I’m going to send him into a panic, but that’s what I’m doing—panicking.
The rumble of bikes has me in a bigger state of panic. I get closer to Steffie and take another look at her. She’s fucked up. I can see she has fractures on her face. Her normally inflated fake rack is smashed. I can’t tell if she was run over or stomped on. Then I scan and see the marks around her neck. Did she not want to fucking die, so they tried a bit of everything? She is caked in blood. Whoever did this didn’t hold back. There are only two people that have a reason to rage kill. Three, if you count Bri, but she would never do this.Neither would your brothers!
The bikes all cut off, but their lights stay on. They are illuminating us a bit more. Steffie is so caked in blood, though, I don’t think the lights really matter.
“Knuckles! What the hell is going on?”
I can tell that Prez is worried. I don’t blame him. He should be. It is time to let them know what is fucking happening. Shit. Why me? All I wanted was a night with Whitley. Instead, I get this. I stand up, and I can hear a few gasps. They can see the body. I doubt that they can tell who it is. I take a couple of steps forward, and I look at the men standing in front of me.
Every single one of my brothers is standing across from me. Every face is different, but all have something in common—they all show worry. But, one of these faces, they’re a murderer. One of these men took Steffie’s life and is standing there, acting like they don’t know what’s happening.
“Knuckles! Who the fuck is that?”
“It’s Steffie, and she’s dead.”
Cowboy and Rambo have the same reaction. Fear. The only ones that have a reason for her to be dead are them.
“Shit.” Prez lets out.
“We gotta do something,” Storm says.
Cowboy and him start to go back and forth, and I watch the others, especially Rambo. This will hit him the hardest. He’s the one going through a legal battle with her. He’s the one that will benefit from her death. But as I stare at him, my heart tells me that he didn’t do it. That even though he’s threatened her, he wouldn’t go through with it. Cowboy, that’s another story. He broke her finger. As much as I hate the doubt, he’s physically hurt her before. What’s to stop him?
Shit. All that is on the tapes. Fuck. Now I have to figure out what I need to do with that. Do I get rid of evidence and accept the fact that one of my brothers is a cold-blooded murderer, or do I use what we have and do the right thing?
“Fuck, Whitley. I wish I had you here and could tell you what I’m going through.” I whisper to myself. My head hurts as I think about what I’m going to do. I didn’t like the bitch, but she didn’t deserve this.
My phone vibrates, and when I see Whitley’s name, I tell myself it’s because he feels my need for him.
