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And it didn’t matter to the Hellraisers. Dante and his crew knew that the fire was an act of sabotage, and they’d find out who was responsible in their own way.
They didn’t need the legal system. It was bullshit anyway, with lawyers making shitloads of money without ever having to produce a result.
No biker club worked like that. The crew had their own way of taking care of business that was swift and just. An eye for an eye.
Dante finally got up out of bed and padded over to his bathroom.
After a quick shower, he headed out of his cottage and over to the clubhouse for something to eat.
Nate’s wife Rochelle was their cook and general housekeeper and thank fuck for that. Most of the guys knew dick all when it came to preparing food. Ever since Rochelle arrived, the kitchen in the clubhouse was always filled with the aroma of home cooking. Good thing too. You did not want to encounter a hungry biker. Only thing worse was fucking up someone’s sled.
Dante entered the large space and noticed Sonny and Jesse standing around the island, talking quietly. Large platters with French toast, eggs, and bacon sat in front of them.
“Hey, any more news?” Dante asked as he sidled up to the counter and grabbed a plate.
He plucked a couple of pieces of toast onto his plate, added a mountain of eggs, and four strips of bacon and grabbed the maple syrup. After pouring a generous amount of liquid sugar over his meal, he sat down on one of the stools and began eating.
“Some,” Sonny replied. “The investigators did note a pattern of accelerant near the front of the bar, so we know for sure it was deliberate. Problem is, they’re looking at us and salivating at the chance of doing a deeper dive into our businesses. We’re gonna have cops crawling up our asses for the foreseeable future.”
Dante grunted and shoved a mouthful of food in his mouth.
“We may have a bigger problem than that,” Dante replied.
“What could be worse?”
“A nosy fucking neighbor.”
“Sage?”
Dante nodded and took another mouthful of his breakfast. “She’s offered to help us. Apparently, she’s been digging into her sister’s death and is hell bent on proving that the Midnight Carnage crew is behind it.”
Sonny’s intense scowl appeared. “Great! Now we got some know-it-all bitch who’s gonna be all up in our business to boot. And how do we know she ain’t working with the fucking cops?”
Dante shook his head. “They’ve done fuck all to solve her sister’s case. Sage is pissed.”
“I don’t like this at all,” Jesse piped in.
“I think it’s best we work with her,” Dante announced.
“What the fuck, D?” Sonny yelled.
“She’s got a stubborn look in her eye that I know all too well. And maybe she’s got info we can use. Anyway, it’s always better to keep a close eye on someone like that. We just have to be careful about how much we share with her.”
“Share what and with who?”
The question came from Gage, his deep voice echoing in the kitchen.
Dante turned to find his president standing behind him, arms crossed over his chest. Gage’s piercing dark eyes could intimidate most people.
“Sage Lowry, our neighbor. She’s investigating her sister’s murder and suggested to me that we partner up to bring down Midnight Carnage.”
“And she knows for sure they’re responsible?”
Dante shrugged his shoulders. “That’s what she told me. She’s a smart lady and I don’t think she was fucking around. Said she’s done a lot of digging and has stuff that might be useful to us.”
Gage’s eyes narrowed and he nodded. “Let’s meet up with her. But not here. Someplace neutral. How about the quarry, seven tonight? That way we can see if anyone’s following her. After I speak to her, I’ll make a decision.”
“I’ll set it up,” Dante replied.
