Reprisal (Tidals & Anchors MC Book 2) (2 page)

He took a long, shaky drag off of his cigarette before looking at me again. “Couldn’t tell ya.”

“Well, why are you here?” I asked, bringing my legs up onto the table. I tucked them underneath myself and leaned forward, my arms resting on my legs.

“Pissed off the wrong person, I guess,” he replied with a shrug. I watched him as he winced from the simple gesture. “How did you know I was here?”

“Tumbler. She found you.”

“Who?”

“My tracker,” I replied, flicking ashes onto the floor.

“Oh. You’re in an MC?” he asked, giving me a weary look.

“Yeah, but I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here to help you,” I assured him.

“Why?”

I stared at him for a moment. I still wanted to wait for Tumbler and I couldn’t exactly tell him the truth until she got back. I quickly glanced around the room for a moment, until my eyes fell on the body that was sitting almost between us.

“Rogue bitch. Had to take her down. Tumbler found out that the great and powerful Swing was here, thought I’d kill two birds with one stone,” I said.

I saw what resembled a grin flash across his face as he snickered. He didn’t seem to take compliments too well and it made me smile. That was a good thing; someone who didn’t believe the hype about themselves would never try to live up to it. It was a good way to stay alive.

“So what’s Femme Fatale?” he asked, changing the subject.

“Gentleman’s club; we own. Stilettos and Steele, I mean.”

His eyes narrowed at the name of the MC and I felt myself becoming a little uneasy.
Come on, Tumbler. The big bad biker boy doesn’t seem to happy right now.

I watched in stunned silence as Swing struggled to get to his feet. Once he was up to his full height, I frantically tried to figure out on what side of me I had laid my gun on. This dude was
big
and I assumed that it was adrenalin that got him to his feet. Either way, this was not a good time to be alone with him.

“If you came to kill me because of what I did, you should know that you’ve lost the element of surprise,” he said, dangerously.

“I already told you that I’m here to help you, Swing,” I replied as calmly as I could.

“Bullshit, lady. If you’re in the club you say you are, then you know I put a bullet in your queen’s head,” he said, taking an unsteady step toward me.

Don’t let him know you’re scared of him.

I promptly hopped down onto my feet. His height and physique were staggering and I felt so small compared to him, but my Smith and Wesson would even the score if I needed it too.

“No, you didn’t,” I said, tossing my cigarette onto the ground and crushing it under my foot.

He threw his head back and laughed in response. I turned quickly and saw my gun laying to the table on the left of me. I didn’t know if his laughter was a mental break so if I had to shoot to kill, then I would. But for now, I decided to wait it out and hope it didn’t come to that.

“You’re crazier than I am, right now,” he said, when he regained his composure. “I followed her. I learned her schedule and when the time was right, I put a bullet through her fucking brain.”

“You didn’t kill anyone that didn’t want to die,” I replied softly. “But I can honestly tell you that you did
not
kill Alaska.”

“You weren’t there,” he said through grit teeth, shaking his head.

“Exactly,” I replied, putting my hands on my hips.

His eyes clouded over in confusion, so I decided to just let the cat out of the bag and hope for the best. I walked over to the body on the ground and crouched down. Pulling back the mask, I turned her onto her back, and stood up again to look at Swing.

“Starla was my Lady of Death. She was my enforcer and the one that I went to when I needed things done. This is what happens when I’m crossed. Have I shot you yet?” I asked, glaring at him.

“Yet,” he echoed with a soft laugh.

“Well, you’re a little scary there, pal. Kind of like a modern day Goliath.” I watched as his eyes narrowed for a moment, before he sighed and turned his face. If I didn’t know any better, I could almost swear he looked spooked. “Anyway, there’s another reason I know that you didn’t kill Alaska.”

“How the fuck could you possibly know that?” he asked, rubbing his face irritably.

Outside I heard the sound of the truck door open and close.
Just in time.
I waited a few more moments until Tumbler walked back into the room we were in before I made the reveal that would either seal or damn this deal I wanted to make.

“Because
I’m
Alaska Winslow.”

Dallas

L
eon wasn't like anything I remembered, and he sure wasn't like what Pardon spoon-fed to the rest of the MC that never got the privilege of meeting him. He seemed tired more than anything else; almost as if he were given the opportunity to die, that he would take it in a heartbeat. But that Rader fire that I would see in Swing's eyes was burning bright and I knew he wouldn't lie down until we found his son. It had to have been a few weeks or so that we had been back in Bend looking for Swing, and still nothing.

"Any news?" he asked me when I walked into through his back door.

"Not yet. Red's still trying to see what he can pry out of Pardon," I replied, sitting down at the kitchen table with him. Leon nodded and got to his feet. He made his way to the refrigerator, pulled out two beers, and sat back down, sliding one across the table toward me.

"It's ten in the morning," I pointed out with a laugh. Leon looked up at me with his tired eyes and chuckled, before screwing the top off of his bottle.

"So it is."

I unscrewed the cap off of my bottle and took a healthy swig. "So it is" seemed to be the favorite saying of the Raders. I put my bottle down and looked at Leon who was glancing out the kitchen window. His bottle was held firmly between both of his hands and he had a sad look on his face.

"We're gonna find him," I promised quietly.

He nodded and used his thumb to wipe away tears that were forming in his eyes.

"Yeah, I know."

"Then what's the matter?" I asked, taking another swig of my beer.

"I know what the MC thinks of me; it's the same thing my boy does. A lot of it isn't true, but I never got the chance to make things right with him, you know? I just let him go on believing that I was this worthless piece of shit that Pardon made me out to be and I never bothered to correct it. That’s eaten away at me for years, Dallas. Now I don't know if I'll ever get the chance to make it right with him," he finished with a heavy sigh.

"I already told you that we're going to find him. Alive. I won't let my best friend die over some setup."

"Hm." Leon's face wore a sad smile and I could tell that he didn't know what to believe. I knew in my heart that I was telling him the truth. Finding Swing alive was our number one priority and we weren't going to stop until we did.

"Nero was always a tough kid, you remember that," I continued. "I don't think I ever saw him cry and we took
a lot
of bumps as kids. Come to think of it, the only time I've ever seen him show that kind of emotion was when Harold died and that probably lasted about five minutes after he got the phone call telling him."

Leon nodded, but didn't say anything. It didn't surprise him that Swing showed emotion for Harold and not him. It was, after all, like he said; most of what the newest members of the MC knew about Leon was what Pardon told them. Even the existing members who were still in Tidals & Anchors, wouldn't dare step up to the plate and call Pardon out on his lies.

My phone rang in my pocket, taking my attention away from Leon. I reached into my jeans pocket and glanced at it.

“Fuck, I gotta take this. Sorry,” I said to him as I got to my feet and walked outside. I managed to answer the phone on what I felt would’ve been the last ring. “Tell me something good, man.”

“I haven’t found him, but I think I’ve got something just as good,” Red replied.

“Alright.”

“On a hunch, I decided to go by Leon’s old work place. You know, the one that Swing uses for marks and shit? Dallas, it looked like a crime scene. There was blood almost all over the place and some drag marks on the ground, kinda like we saw at his place in Poulsbo. But you remember that creepy home movie that chick with the mask made? That same mask was there with a bullet hole in it,” he said excitedly.

At first I didn’t understand what had him so amped about finding a bloodbath and a mask with a bullet hole in it.

“I don’t get it, Red,” I replied bluntly.

“Swing is still alive. He has to be. Who else knew about that place but us and the MC? And to find that same mask there? No fucking way it’s a coincidence.”

“Take Honest and go back. I’ll meet you guys there in ten minutes,” I said, before I hung up.

I went back into the house to find Leon was still sitting at the table where I left him, staring off into space.

“Think he’ll be happy to see me?” he asked, before I could say anything.

“Swing? Hell yes. We just gotta find him first. I got a good lead just now too. I’m gonna go take a look. I’ll call you if I find anything.”

“Dallas,” Leon said in a voice that stopped me as I reached the door again.

“Yeah?” I asked, turning to glance at him.

“Before this is all over, I’m going to make sure Pardon dies a slow, painful death,” he said giving me a level stare.

“I’m alright with that, old man,” I lied, as I turned and left Leon sitting in his home.

I can’t let them kill my father. I just have to find Swing and talk some sense into him.

Alaska

I
was sitting in my office with my hands clasped behind my head. A yawn escaped me and I glanced over at the leather couch that Swing was sleeping on. I didn't want to keep him housed at Femme Fatale, but I had finished trying to fix him a little while ago and decided it would be best for him to get some rest before I moved him again. I wasn't sure where the hell I was going to put him, but I couldn't let him stay here.

With another yawn, I thought of what a debacle it had been trying to sew him up. He hadn't put up much of struggle once he was restrained, but I was so hell-bent on making sure the he stayed as pretty as I found him that it took longer than it should have.

It had taken Tumbler and a couple of my bouncers to hold him down once I started swabbing his cuts and punctures wounds. I had tried to tell him that it would hurt and offered him some vodka to numb the pain, but he had declined saying he could take it. The first swab wasn't so bad, he had said. The second one was where he gave me a dangerous stare. As soon as I placed the third on one of his larger wounds, was the moment he let out a pained grunt. That's when I nodded at Tumbler and she left to get some back up.

The three of them had held him down on my favorite pool table in the backroom, while I continued to swab as many cuts as I could find. I wanted to make sure that nothing would get infected and get a better idea of what I could actually sew up myself and what would heal on its own.

"He's gonna need to go to the hospital eventually," Tumbler said, as I sat down on the table next to him and began to stitch him up. "He's lost a lot of blood."

"Fuck. Has anyone seen my glasses?" I asked, ignoring her statement. "I think they're in my office; be a doll and grab them for me?"

She had rolled her eyes, but nodded and did as I asked. I reached into my black jeans pocket and pulled out a hair tie, slipped it around a makeshift ponytail I made, and secured it.

"Thanks kiddo," I said, taking my glasses from Tumbler and sliding them over my eyes. "Hold him still. I don't know how deep these really are so I need to be careful when I..." my voice trailed off as I leaned over and placed a hand against his side. Swing grunted again when I slid the needle under his skin and began sewing him back together as best as I could.

It had taken me three hours. Not because of all of the wounds he had, but because I wanted to make sure there would be as minimal scarring as possible as well as fastest healing time. This war with Tidals & Anchors was coming whether I wanted it to or not. Helping Swing, getting him out of the torture room we had found him in, branded us enemies of Pardon and I knew he wouldn't hesitate to come knocking down my door once he figured it out. For that reason alone, I needed Swing to be as close to one hundred percent as possible. Stilettos & Steele was full of dangerous and cutthroat beautiful bitches, but it wouldn't hurt to have a Rader on our side.

Especially if he's anything like his old man
, I thought glancing at him and yawning again.

I had heard some great stories about Leon Rader, and his way of running Tidals & Anchors was honestly what I tried to fashion myself after with my ladies in my MC. Do what you have to do to get the job done and do what you have to do to get out in one piece. That was one of the biggest things I had admired most about him based on the stories Warner had told me growing up.

"I'm locking up for the night Alaska," Deacon, my head bouncer said poking his head into my office. "You gonna be alright with him or do you want me to move him?"

I smiled and him and shook my head, "I'll be fine. I've got the great equalizer in my top drawer."

He shook his head and chuckled, bidding me a good night before he disappeared. I glanced at Swing again and wondered if I'd be able to leave him here without anything happening to him. I really wanted to go home but I felt like it was my duty to keep his ass alive until he could do it for himself.

With a sigh, I leaned back in my chair and kicked my legs up onto my desk. I tried to ask myself if what I was doing was the right thing. It would be so easy to end this war before it started by putting a bullet into him while he slept. What would Leon do? I wondered rubbing my eyes tiredly. Probably not kill his son.

I dropped my legs from the table top and crossed my arms on it, letting my head rest on them. The last time I glanced at the clock was just before Deacon had come in and it said 2:02 am. Chances were that Swing was asleep for the rest of the evening, so I just had to make the best of my current situation and pray I didn't wake up with a stiff neck. I closed my eyes and let the sleep take me.