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“Didn’t see that coming. So, who’s sitting in the seat?”
“Ghost is the acting President with Bullseye as his V.P. Satan’s Angels have been camped in their backyard. Ghost told me that until they rid themselves of those bastards, he can’t send us Ravage. We’re gonna have to find someone else.”
“Shit.” I cursed. Ravage was the best damn tracker around. Bar none. Second only to someone I refused to think about. There wasn’t anyone like Ravage. Well, none that I would consider.
“You know someone else who can track this fucker, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I do.”
It was true.
I knew someone.
“Prez. We got trackers here we can use, but none of them are the caliber of Ravage. If you know someone like that fucker, then you need to make the call. The quicker we can locate Serrano and dispose of him, the safer everyone involved will all be.”
Nodding, I knew Pence was right.
Picking up my phone, I made the call.
“What now?” Montana asked, picking up on the second ring.
“I have need of Payne.”
Pence gasped, waving his hands frantically. I got it. I really did, but Payne was the only other tracker I knew who could catch and kill Serrano without blinking an eye.
Besides, it was going to take a murderer to catch one.
Montana said nothing for a short breath before asking. “Why?”
“Got a Mexican serial killer hellbent on retribution.”
“This have anything to do with what went down five years ago?”
“Yeah.”
“Are Kali and the kids safe?”
“They are. But two police officers who went to Mexico with the club aren’t. They’re dead.”
“I’ll talk to Payne and see what he says. In the meantime, you make sure Kali and the kids stay safe. I don’t give a fuck about anything else, Kansas. If that shit touches Kali, I will have your brand. Got me?”
“Yeah.” I said, hanging up the phone.
Fuck!
Sighing, I sat back in my chair, trying to quell the tension already rolling through me. Payne was… well, a pain in the ass. He didn’t listen to anyone except Montana and that was only if Montana ordered him to. A club enforcer for the Soulless Sinners M.C., Payne was also a tracker. Not the caliber of Ravage, but damn close. The man could find anything in a major city. Fucker had a nose like a bloodhound. Where Ravage was good in the wild, Payne was good in urban areas. The man blended well and saw everything.
He was also the one club member who wanted me dead.
When I left the Soulless Sinners, it was Payne who voted to hunt me down, remove my brand and execute me according to Sinner Law. The only thing that saved my ass was that I was the son of George Stone, the former President of the club and Montana’s baby brother. I was a legacy brother. If I were anyone else, I would have been six feet under by now. It also helped that shortly after I left, my other two brothers, Dakota and Arizona, did the same.
“Please tell me he said no. Please tell me Montana’s not sending Payne, the Payne of the Soulless Sinners M.C. to our little corner of the world?”
“He said he will get back to me.”
“Fuck, Kansas! What were you thinking?!”
“I’m thinking we have a serial murderer on the loose who won’t stop until he gets his fill. I don’t know about you, but I’m not feeding him anymore bodies.”
