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Ray sneered at him. “I told you, I don’t fucking know. I got the text message and an envelope with cash. Half up front. That’s it. No meeting, no names. In a week’s time, I deliver the goods and get the rest of my payment. I told you everything I know, now let me go!” Ray let out a watery cough and spewed out a mouthful of blood and phlegm onto the floor.
Sonny reviewed the rest of Ray’s messages, and his internet history. It turned up nothing.
But telling Sonny what to do was Ray’s last mistake. It wouldn’t matter how much Ray screamed or shouted, no one would hear him. And even if they did, no one would care. The bunker was built on the club’s land - perfect for smuggling, emergency meetings, and dealing with their own brand of justice.
Ray wasn’t the first and he wouldn’t be the last.
Without hesitation, Sonny looked into Ray’s eyes as he lowered the knife again. Running the blade along Ray’s neck, he examined it closely for the perfect spot… right there.
It was over before Ray could blink.
Normally Sonny got a high from getting rid of lying trash like Ray, but it was tempered tonight. Something else was nagging at Sonny’s gut, and he didn’t have any explanation for it. Just a bad feeling that he trusted in. His instinct had never steered him wrong. It led him out of a shit home at sixteen and to the motorcycle club that meant everything.
Putting that feeling aside for now, he slowly walked over to the makeshift bathroom. Sonny washed his hands and cleaned off the knife, dousing it with alcohol and placing it carefully in his sheath, then back in the holster under his vest. He finished checking Ray’s person, removing any personal items like ID. He’d get Xander to check out the phone in greater detail tomorrow.
Grabbing the edge of the blanket, he started rolling up Ray’s body when his phone pinged again.
Jackson: The contents have been returned to the rightful owner
Good. Come back home and help me with a bonfire.
Will do
Sonny’s phone pinged again but this time, it was a message from Avery Hellion.
Fuck, not her. Not now.
“What is it?” Sonny said out loud to himself.
If there was anyone on this earth that tested his unlimited patience, it was this woman.
Avery was the daughter of the club’s president and a general pain in Sonny’s ass. She was smarter than anyone he’d ever met, a savvy businesswoman at just twenty-three, and beautiful to boot.
Too bad she had a yap that wouldn’t shut up.
He’d thought of plenty of dirty ways to keep her mouth busy, especially over the past year. She’d come back after graduating from college in Edmonton and had taken over the books for their businesses. Since he was the manager of the bar, she was always up in his face about one thing or other. Besides the local bar, the members owned several body shops and clubs around the province, and their most profitable venture, a gun store and range.
The gun range provided a good front for their booming underground business, and they made ten times the money on the illegal trade. Being in Longford, in the outskirts of Drumheller, Alberta was the perfect location. People here loved booze, pot, and guns. And not necessarily in that order. They didn’t care about who sold what or how, they minded their own.
Speaking of minding, Avery better leave him well enough alone.
The phone pinged again, and Sonny noticed it was a group text that included Jackson.
Avery: Two of the Death Riders crew just walked into Bikes & Brews, looking awful angry. Dante and Wyatt are here but they’ve been drinking hard. I could use an extra hand.
Sonny knew exactly what kind of hand Avery needed: a good, hard spanking. The thought of swatting her lush ass until it turned red had all his blood pumping south. Fuck, now was not the time for his dick to take over. He’d fucked a rando two weeks ago and usually that would take the edge off for a while. The sweet butts that frequented their club hangouts knew the score, one and done and on to the next. He wasn’t one for repeats since women got stupid ideas about ownership that he had no use for.
Jackson: I’ll be there in fifteen.
I’m taking care of important business. Be there in ten.
Avery: You better haul ass, Sonny. I don’t need blood all over the new floors I just paid for.
“Goddamn nag,” Sonny swore again and realized that his temper was about to let loose. No way. Not for her.
He took a deep breath before he typed.
Calm your tits. Blood is easy to clean. Be there shortly.
