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“Alejandro Vasquez, the fucker who’s trying to sue the club in federal court, is married to Carlos Sandoval’s niece. He asked Carlos for help in seeking retribution.”
“And this Alejandro asshole is the reason for the hitman?”
“Yes.”
“So, you have two Cartels wanting you dead?”
“Apparently,” I deadpanned, rubbing my jaw.
“Does anyone know what this Serrano looks like?”
“No.”
“Then how do you know it’s him?”
“He leaves a calling card of sorts. He writes his name in the blood of his victims after he mutilates their bodies and paints the walls with their entrails. The fucker is sick, Payne. Proficient and skilled.”
Payne shook his head. “Doesn’t make sense. You’re missing something, Kansas. Why would Sandoval care about an M.C. in Oklahoma? He’s got his own crew to worry about, connections and a business to run. He wouldn’t send someone into the United States to murder American citizens. That’s suicide, plus he’s on everyone’s most wanted list, including his own government. Then there is this Alejandro fucker. How did he survive the raid? And why now? Why wait five years for revenge?” Payne stated as he continued to pace before he stopped and looked at me. “How sure are you it was the Vasquez Cartel that killed your former club members?”
“We were at war with them after a deal went bad. Plus, officer Taylor’s father saw several bikers just ride past his farm on state road 81 towards Texas. Mr. Taylor said they were wearing cuts.”
“Bikers? That Mexican Cartel doesn’t ride, Kansas, and you just said this Taylor guy saw them wearing cuts. How do you know it was the Vasquez Cartel?”
“Monk told us.”
“How did he know it was them? How did he see them? Was he here when the attack happened? If so, why didn’t he stop them or call the police?”
“What are you insinuating, Payne?”
“Someone is lying and as much as I hate your fucking guts, I know it’s not you. I need to speak with Monk and this Mr. Taylor. They are the only ones who seem to know anything.”
“Monk wouldn’t lie about this, Payne.”
“Not saying he did, but if he was here, he knows more than he’s letting on. Technically, he is the only survivor of the attack.”
“He was with his sister!”
“So,he says.”
That stopped me short. Getting to my feet, I shook my head. “I don’t like where you are going with this, Payne. In fact, I fucking hate it.”
“Hate me all you want. You know damn well I make sense. I can’t go hunting until I have all the information. Every fucking bit of it. The more I know, the faster I will find the killer. But what you’ve told me so far makes no fucking sense. Either I speak with Monk and Mr. Taylor or I will do this my way,” Payne said, getting in my face before adding coolly, “And Kansas, you don’t want me to do it my way. Montana only gave me one order. To find the killer and dispose of him. That’s it.”
Payne grinned, then turned to walk away only to say loud and clear, “I expect you to have Monk and this Mr. Taylor in your office at the clubhouse tomorrow.”
Watching the motherfucker walk away, I seethed.
I fucking hated that son of a bitch.
Storming out of the library, I ignored the laughter coming from the family room, knowing Trigger and Judd were enjoying my big screen TV and drinking my beer as they watched one of my fucking movies. Reaching the second floor, I passed a room, hearing a mattress bounce as Vivi screamed Pence’s name right before he, too, shouted out her name. Fuck me. Everyone was having a damn good time but me. Walking further down the hall, I turned the corner and leaned against the doorjamb to find my woman getting the twins ready for bed.
“Daddy!” Jaxon shouted, toddling over to me, holding his hands up for me to pick him up. Happily, I held my son to me, as all the anger I felt just moments ago faded away.
“Should have sound proofed the bedrooms.”
Kali chuckled. “That’s nothing. You should have heard them twenty minutes ago. I was about to send in a rescue team.”
I chuckled at that.
