Sinner's Revenge (Sinner's Creed MC #2)(33)
12
DIEM STAYED. SHE tried to leave twice. Keeping good on my word, I f*cked it out of her both times. But when I woke up this morning, she was gone. All that was left was a note.
Shithead,
Playtime is over for me. I have to get back to work. Maybe I’ll call. Maybe I won’t.
—D
She’ll call. I’m sure of it.
I spend the day trying to get my house back in order. When she left, she made sure to leave me with the mess she created. I think it was her way of punishing me. But a part of me is glad she’s gone. I need the time to get my head back in the game. I have plans this week. Plans for death. I drive north to Tamworth, New Hampshire, calling Rookie when I’m fifteen minutes out. We meet up at a motel with Tank to go over the plan once again.
The chapter has ten patch holders that would be present at church. They don’t have a clubhouse, so instead they meet up in the president’s shop located just outside his house. As is tradition in their chapter, the ol’ ladies gather inside the house, which is about forty feet from the shop. And most of the time, the Prospects stay under the porch, completely out of view of the shop, until the meeting is over.
So not only are we putting Prospects at risk, but now the ol’ ladies are a potential threat too. Rookie has been staking out the site for quite some time and assures me the women never come outside. To take out ten patch holders in one night would be worth the risk. But I know if I had to kill a woman, it would be a hard pill to swallow.
The house is located on a river, providing us with an escape route just through the woods. The issue there is getting all the bodies out of the shop, drug through the woods, and into the boat that will take us to the truck. And we couldn’t leave a blood trail. I was beginning to think the job was impossible, but leave it to Rookie to come up with something in that crooked-ass mind of his.
“Let’s drug ’em,” he says, shrugging at the suggestion like it was just that simple.
“And how the hell do you suppose we do that?”
“They end every meeting with a shot. We go in tonight, slip something in every bottle of liquor they have, and after they toast, it shouldn’t take but about five minutes. We wait, and if they don’t come out, we go in.”
“So how do we get them out of the shop? We’d have to make at least four trips. It’s too risky.”
He smiles. “Good thing we got a lot of brothers with a lot of muscle. And I know a chapter that’s on probation. This would give them a chance to get their bottom rocker back.” It sucked having a brother smarter than me.
I call Nationals, unsure of my decision only after I have them on the line. “San Antonio is on probation. Rookie and I could use their help with something. I’ll make sure it’s beneficial for the club too. It’ll also give them a chance to prove themselves. It’s nothing they haven’t done before.”
“How beneficial to the club will it be?” Jimbo asks, and Rookie passes me a piece of paper.
“Two keys. At least. And about twenty or thirty stacks.” I wait while the call is muted and they discuss. A few minutes later Jimbo comes back on the line.
“You got the green light. Just don’t f*ck up.”
Great. No pressure.
*
That night, Rookie and Tank stand guard as I pick the lock and enter the shop. There are only two bottles of liquor in the building, and I empty the contents of the package Rookie gave me inside them. Looking around the shop, my eyes search for the hidden stash of dope and money. Rookie assures me it’s in here somewhere, he just doesn’t know where.
After fifteen minutes of searching, I still can’t find it. Time is up and I walk back into the woods to meet Rookie and Tank. “I couldn’t find it,” I whisper, knowing that if we didn’t, then we would be indebted to Nationals. It wasn’t about the money, it was the promise of getting them something and not delivering.
“Did you check the floors?” Rookie asks, completely calm.
“Concrete.”
“What about the walls?”
“Nothing.” I wasn’t an amateur, for f*ck’s sake.
“What about the deer?” My eyes move to Tank, who hasn’t said a word the entire trip. Hell, he never says anything.
“The what?”
“The deer. There’s a deer mount on the wall. Look in the hollow of its neck.” I look to Rookie and he shrugs, again. I guess that’s his answer for everything.
We walk back to the shop, and I start searching the mounts. There are four of them, and the first three have come up empty. Taking a deep breath, I pull the fourth from the wall, noticing how easily it came down. Where the wooden plaque was solid on the others, this one was hollow, leading into the neck of the deer. Inside lay my word to Nationals. And now I have two brothers that are smarter than me.
*
Six probationary members from San Antonio arrive the next day. I hardly recognize them in normal clothes, and I even laugh at how awkward it is having all of us together with no patches on. We go over the plan until it’s perfected, then split up into three boats that sit waiting at the riverbank.
We’re silent as we walk through the woods. At ten minutes past ten, Rookie eases up to the window of the shop. Moments later, he waves us over. We enter with pistols drawn, silencers intact. With a wave of my finger, the unconscious bodies are lifted one by one and removed from the room. I grab the last of them, throwing him over my shoulder, and silently thanking my brothers for leaving the smallest one for me.