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Walking back towards the entrance of the clubhouse, I stopped and turned. “Oh, and if he doesn’t answer. Keep calling.”
“Will do!” Massacre shouted, placing his phone to his ear, and walking off.
Smirking to myself, I turned to find Player leaning against the doorjamb, shaking his head. “If Bullseye kills my brother, you’re a dead man.”
Chuckling, I replied, “Serves his ass right. Next time he will think before he goes and does a two-year runner without letting anyone know.”
“Reaper knew, you asshole.”
“And that fucker will get his when he comes home, too. We’ve all got plans for him.” I grinned evilly.
“I’m sorry!” Massacre shouted, backing up, hands in the air as Bullseye stalked him, pointing his gun at him. “Savage made me do it!”
“You fucking snitch!” I roared. “I ought to kick your ass.”
“Dylan, put the damn gun down,” Phantom sighed, leaning back in her chair. “Now, what was so damn important?”
Looking from Massacre to Bullseye, I turned to Phantom and said, “Got company coming.”
“Who?” Bullseye asked, holstering his weapon as Massacre visibly sighed before sitting close to the door.
Player snickered at that.
“Disturbed MC. Spoke with their president, Hawk. Grouchy fucker didn’t say much but what he said spoke volumes. Sandman wasn’t completely honest with us. Mute bastard left a few things out, like the fact that Sandman isn’t just a fucking brother in Disturbed. He’s the adoptive son of Lucifer Hawk.”
“You’re shitting me,” Bullseye moaned, plopping down into his chair as the officers whispered amongst themselves.
“Nope, and it’s legal, too. Sandman was sixteen when Hawk legally adopted him. Apparently, there was a falling out sometime after Sandman turned eighteen and fled. Hawk’s been looking for him ever since. Seems Sandman called Hawk a few days ago, asking about a brother named Indigo. That gave Hawk a location since he knew this Indigo is working a case near our territory.”
“And when you called, you confirmed Sandman’s location,” Bullseye added.
“Yeah,” I muttered. “Disturbed MC will be here this afternoon.”
“I don’t like this. There are too many gaps in Sandman’s story. Hell, all we know about our brother is what he’s told us or what the club has on record. But years are missing in between. We need to know what else could be coming our way. Where is Sandman right now?”
“With Sunny,” Slaughter informed.
“Lena, get with Matrix and Player. I want a deep dive into Sandman. Everything and anything you can find. Leave no stone unturned.”
“Gonna need more than us, Dylan,” Phantom calmly stated. “Gonna need Sypher’s help on this one.”
“Call him,” Bullseye ordered. “In the meantime, no one is to say shit to Sandman. I want to see his reaction when Hawk lands. If the fucker loses his shit, we back our brother. Until Sandman tells us that Hawk isn’t a threat, I want everyone packing. Understood?”
Everyone nodded.
Chapter Eighteen
Sunny
Tired of being cooped up in the bedroom, Solomon happily carried me downstairs, then plopped me on our favorite couch, before elevating my leg. Making sure I was comfortable, he rushed back upstairs for the book I had been reading, then laid down with his head in my lap.
“Read.”
Chuckling, I took the book he held out to me as the sound of pipes roared in the compound.
“We expecting company?” I asked, looking towards the door as I felt Solomon shrug.
“Don’t care. Read to me.”
