“I might know of a crack and snow source,” Boone, the vice president, said. “Believe it or not, from Canada. Straight up Interstate 29.”
“Convenient,” Dax murmured. “We could get cheap Viagra while we’re up there.”
The men laughed.
Romeo held up a hand, silencing them all in an instant. “Who?”
“A man calling himself Red Eye. It’s not meth, but I’ve heard his stuff is good, and the word is that he’s looking for a new distributing partnership.”
Romeo frowned. Could they be that lucky? “Sounds too good to be true.”
“That’s why we need to move now,” Boone replied. “If we get his shit, then we can blow the Shanks away. It’s far superior to the stuff they’re peddling.”
“Whatever drug we run, we don’t use it,” Romeo reminded him. “I don’t want the Men of Hell turning into fucking junkies, got it?”
The spot between Boone’s eyes creased as he frowned. “Of course.”
Romeo relaxed and nodded. “All right. You’ll follow up with this Red Eye?”
“Yes.”
“Okay,” Romeo said. “All those in favor?”
A chorus of ayes rang through the large, paneled room.
“Passed,” Romeo said. “Now, the next thing I must bring up is Shepard.”
He took notice of the way Drifter and Bandit stiffened, but they weren’t the fish he was after. Right now, he wanted the person who had helped in nearly leveling his club to the ground.
“Cipher,” Romeo said, singling out the only biker at the table who didn’t ride often.
The man preferred to stay behind his desk, sorting numbers. His bald, tatted head clashed with the image of his thick-framed glasses, and he also had the muscle tone more suited to someone of his numerical profession.
“Boss?” Cipher questioned, hesitantly.
“I still find it extremely difficult to believe that, as the treasurer, you had no idea that Shepard wasn’t channeling the money from the meth runs back into the club bank.”
Cipher looked around the table. Sweat broke out on his upper lip as he met each gaze. “How was I to know? He told me there weren’t any funds to deposit.”
“So you thought he was making these runs out of the goodness of his heart?”
The members chuckled at the obvious sarcasm in his words, but Romeo ignored them to focus on Cipher’s tells. For a numbers man, he sure was lousy at poker.
Cipher looked around wildly and his hand shook. “I thought he was breaking even.”
“Breaking even?” Romeo surged to his feet.
Cipher flinched and flickered a quick, desperate look at the door. It was then that Romeo knew for certain the accountant wasn’t playing legit or being truthful with him.
“About one point six trillion dollars is laundered a year through drug trafficking, and you simply thought Shepard’s runs were coming up with nothing profitable?”
He took his time to walk around the oval cement table, walking by each Brother one by one. Cipher watched him with wide eyes until he passed behind him. Romeo stopped and looked down at the man’s balding head and disgust filled him, leaving a sour taste in his mouth.
“Hell, we used to make a nice little profit off marijuana back when it was still hip and cool, but Colorado fucked that trade route up for us, so we turned to meth. So, Cipher, I’m stymied on how someone so knowledgable with the books could possibly be so dumb to think I wouldn’t figure out you were working with him.”
“No!”
Cipher tried to stand, but Romeo slapped his hand against the back of Cipher’s head and smashed his face into the table. Romeo held Cipher down while he struggled to free himself from the vulnerable position, but Romeo had a lot more muscle on him. He kept the fucking traitor easily in place.
“This is going to be a new club and I’m not a fucking nice guy anymore.” Romeo looked around to each member of the table. “If I learn you’ve disrespected the patch on your cut or have been disloyal to this club, I will cut off your balls and stuff them down your throat, before I put a bullet in your head. Understand?”
Each man nodded to his warning–even Drifter and Bandit, although Romeo still reserved judgment as to whether they were simply playing along or if they truly agreed.
“Dax, take Cipher to the garage. Secure him to one of the cherry pickers.”
Dax stood and obeyed without question. He grabbed Cipher’s arms and marched him out of the chapel. Romeo gripped the back of the chair he hated so much and lifted it, bringing it with him as he followed Dax and Cipher. Slowly, one by one, each Brother trailed after him, and the other members and club whores hanging out in the clubhouse made room as they marched single file outside. They formed a parade line to the garage.
When Romeo arrived at the open work bay, Cipher was bound to the cherry picker. His hands were chained over his head, and the tips of his shoes barely scraped the ground. Terror blanketed his face.
“Please, boss,” he begged.
“Please what?” he asked.
Cipher stared at him. His mouth quivered just a little. “I thought I had to be loyal to Shepard.”
“Shut up,” Romeo ordered coldly. He set the chair down and turned to look at the men behind him. “From now on, this club is about loyalty to the patch, no matter who sits at the head of the table. Understood?”
Once again, every man nodded.
Romeo pulled out the fifteen-inch, double-edged switchblade he never went anywhere without. He sliced away Cipher’s cut and T-shirt to reveal his club tattoo on the right shoulder blade.
He looked at Dax. “Hold him.”
Dax put his arms around the thinner man and held on while Romeo brought his knife down to slice into the skin. Cipher screamed until Boone stepped forward and stuffed a bandana into his mouth. Still, through the cloth, he continued to howl. Tears coursed down his cheeks. Romeo didn’t give a flying fuck. He cut away the tattoo in a circular pattern, ignoring the blood that poured down Cipher’s back, the sharp blade peeling the flesh like going through butter. When he severed the last bit, he stepped back and held the bloody disc of skin up for all the members to see. Cipher finally stopped screaming, so he figured the man had passed out.
“Traitors won’t have the luxury of blackening out their tattoos. I will cut them from their bodies, however big they may be.”
He walked over to the chair and put the tattoo on the seat. Dax handed him a shop rag so he could wipe his red-soaked hands as clean as he could get them before pulling a name patch from his pocket. Broken threads outlined the rectangular piece of material and Romeo sneered at Shepard’s name embroidered on it. He spat on it then tossed it on top of Cipher’s dissected skin. Next, he grabbed a can of gasoline and poured it over the chair and its contents.
“Burn it,” he told Dax.
Dax pulled his lighter out of his pants pocket, set another shop rag on fire then tossed it on the chair. It lit up with a roar.
“Make sure he never steps foot in Nebraska again,” Romeo said and walked away without a backward glance. “I need a new fucking chair.”
Chapter Two
“You’ve had impressive surgical training, Miss Matsumoto,” stated the voice through the computer’s speakers. “But I have to warn you that Bair, Nebraska, isn’t exactly a hip, happening place for a young woman.”
Chloe gritted her teeth, but kept her smile over Skype. She wanted this job more than anything, and telling the surgical director of the very small hospital to go fuck himself wouldn’t win her any brownie points.
“I’ve done extensive research on your hospital and on Bair, and your trauma rate is what appeals to me,” she answered.
The director, Mr. Browning, sighed. “Yes, well, I should be brutally honest with you. Our trauma rate is mainly due to the motorcycle club getting into conflicts with the local drug gang.”
“The Men of Hell, correct? And the Shanks?”
Even on the slightly distorted video, admiration shone on his face. “You
have
been doing your homework. Tell me, Miss Matsumoto, why would you choose to come to our very small hospital when you have the pick of top-notch hospitals in the country? Traveling surgical technicians can make a lot more money.”
“I’ve worked in top-notch hospitals, Mr. Browning, and with all due respect to their reputations, it comes down to bureaucracy and less about patient care. My surgical training was basically an assembly line with a twenty minute turnaround time to sterilize the OR and prep for the next surgery. It may sound very cliché, but I’m looking for an environment where I can make a difference.”
“Well, I can certainly give you that here at Bair Memorial,” Mr. Browning said wryly.
For the next half hour, he managed to grill her on the different procedures she’d assisted in, bringing into call her textbook training and even some of the things she’d had to learn off the cuff. When the Skype interview completed, Chloe sat back, relaxed and, breathing easy, touched her fingertips together. She was positive she’d hear from Mr. Browning soon with an offer of employment.
“Wow,” her friend, Clement, said from the kitchen. She suckled loudly on a Popsicle. “I almost believed that load of crap.”
Chloe shrugged and closed the lid on her laptop. “Interviews are easy. You just have to tell them what they want to hear.”
“Are you sure this is a wise move, Chloe? After, you know…”
“Don’t,” Chloe ordered stiffly. “Don’t go there. It’s over and I’m not in jail. Let’s leave it at that.” She loved Clement dearly, but it was always the same with her—the doubt and uncertainty shining brightly in her eyes. Of course, it didn’t help matters much whenever Chloe went off on a tangent. “Besides, it’s different this time.”
“How?” Clement asked skeptically.
“Well, for one—do you see any photos on the walls?” Chloe gestured around the room.
Clement shook her head. “No. But this move does have to do with Kaiya’s abduction, doesn’t it? You’ve not been the same since she came back.”
“Partly,” Chloe said with a shrug. “I have a life debt I must repay.”
“There is no such thing as a life debt,” Clement said dryly. “That was a term made up for plot ideas in books and movies.”
“For me, it’s real,” Chloe said. Her thoughts briefly touched on her cousin, Kaiya. “Now stop, I want to be excited about getting this position.”
Clement frowned. “But Nebraska? I can’t imagine there’s anything to do there. I’d miss Los Angeles too much. And you know your grandfather
will
come after you, when he figures out where you went.”
“If he questions you, give him the letter I wrote. You have it, right?”
“Yep. Absolving me of all knowledge.”
“Don’t be afraid to use it,” Chloe said. “My grandfather is the type of man you want to avoid pissing off.”
Clement snorted. “Yeah, I know.” She took Chloe’s hand and squeezed. “I’ll miss you, you know.”
Chloe’s heart lurched. Clement had been her one true friend, the only one to stick by her when she was hospitalized. “I know,” she whispered. “I’m going to miss you too.”
Clement took a step closer and cupped her face. “I wouldn’t mind your obsessive love.”
“God, I
hate
that word,” she muttered. “I don’t have obsessions. I have tangents.”
“Your last
tangent
not only got you fired, you were almost arrested and it brought your grandfather back into your life. If you had just loved me, I would’ve put up with any of your irregular behaviors.”
Chloe sadly shook her head. “That would make sense, but, unfortunately, I just don’t find you sexually attractive, even though you are gorgeous.”
Truer words had never been spoken. Clement was the complete opposite of her, with long blonde hair and sky-blue eyes, the epitome of a California girl. They’d been friends through high school and both had entered vocational college together, where Clement had finally come clean about loving pussy instead of dick. She’d wanted to have a relationship with Chloe, but after one night of awkward sex, Chloe had realized she definitely preferred cock.
“Don’t sell yourself short,” Clement murmured. She bent and kissed Chloe on the mouth. Chloe allowed it, knowing her friend wouldn’t push for more, and soon Clement pulled back with a long, dramatic sigh. “Damn it,
why
can’t you be a lesbian?”
Chloe patted her hand consolingly. “I’m sorry. Since you’re so into the fish smell, how about we get sushi? My treat.”
“You’re such an ass sometimes,” Clement said with a snort. “Okay, sushi it is. You’d better get your fill here, because I have a feeling Bum Fucked Bair, Nebraska, doesn’t have too much fresh sashimi.”
* * * *
Two days later, Chloe received the call, and the next day, she went about packing up her efficiency apartment to make the move to Nebraska. Satisfaction consumed her and part of the itch inside her had been scratched. She walked over to her closet and opened the door to stare at the mural on the wall. Varied pictures crowded the small corkboard, one on top of the other. She was going to have to buy a bigger board.
One man decorated the entire surface. Dark hair, piercing blue eyes… He stared at her from the shiny surfaces of the glossy four-by-sevens. She smiled, kissed her fingertips, and pressed them lightly to the man’s photo. They were from her grandfather’s personal files, from when he’d had Kaiya’s rescuers investigated. As soon as Chloe had set eyes on the dark-haired man with a lady-killer smile, lustful possession had surged within her. She had to have him. Her pussy had instantly slicked, followed by an ache settling deep inside that only his cock could satisfy. She’d taken the photos and used them for masturbation fantasies. Her shrink liked to use the word ‘obsessive’ so she went along with everything he’d said, because it had been a condition of her grandfather, and she’d pretended to take the pills prescribed. But no one understood her—not Clement and certainly not her fucked-up family.
Except for Kaiya. Her cousin was the one good thing in her world, the only person who didn’t hold any judgment against her for what had happened in her past or what the consequences had wrought. When Kaiya had been taken, it had been a week of pure hell for Chloe until they’d all learned Kaiya had been rescued. Romeo Barrigan had saved Kaiya, and, now, Chloe was determined to help him somehow.