Chapter 14

Mace

M y club brothers were not happy to find out that Alicia was an informant for the feds and didn’t tell us. They saw that as a breach of trust, considering we took her in. Celt was the only brother on my side when I argued that at twenty-one, she was young, scared, and unsure who to trust in this dangerous situation. She should have trusted us, me in particular since we had grown close. But after hearing her talk about how she grew up, I knew that trust was difficult for her. After much debate they came around to my way of thinking, mostly thanks to Celt.

The Dark Slayers helping her was never in doubt because our club had nothing to fear from the feds the way a one percent club that ran drugs or guns would have. Helping her was different from trusting her. Several brothers wanted her out of the clubhouse while we dealt with her father. In the end they agreed to give her the benefit of the doubt. By the time I made it out of what eventually turned out to be full blown emergency club meeting with all the club brothers, she was waiting at the bar teary-eyed and anxious.

When I came to her, she flew off the barstool and into my arms. I was worried that Thunder had scared her off with his point-blank question about our relationship. It was his way of trying to strongarm me into claiming her, but she wasn’t ready to take our relationship to the next level, not with her mother beaten, bruised, and being used as a pawn to manipulate her into coming back to their family. No, any fool could see that I needed to make sure both she and her mom were safe before we even considered taking things further and deciding what it was that we had going on.

I calmed her down and then we had to part ways. Rosie again agreed to look out for her while I went out with my club brothers to check out possible hideouts her father might use on his return. The fact that he was planning on returning to the US was good in a way. It meant that me and my club brothers didn’t have to take an unscheduled vacation to Mexico.

And so off I went, once again with Alicia standing on the front porch of our clubhouse, watching me leave. At the last minute she ran out to give me a kiss. I bent my head down and gratefully accepted what she was offering. Her last whispered words to me were, “Be careful. I know my father is in Mexico, but I don’t trust him, some of his men might still be here.”

Her words unsettled me but spurred me on. She stepped back and I slammed my helmet into place and took off, with anger eating away at me for all that she’d endured. If I had ever harbored any doubt that she loved her old man on some level, her whispered words shattered that all to hell. He’d have to be one ruthless son of bitch to kill his own wife out of spite. Then again, Alicia knew her own father better than any of us. If she was convinced he’d kill her so easily, I had to believe her.

***

Storm had sent us all in different directions to search for any signs that her father or his men might still be here. We wanted to know which camps they used and get as much intel as possible before the meet-up. We were in small groups. Mine consisted of Celt, Hornet, and Coyote. The four of us would draw notice riding together but such a small number wouldn’t cause the kind of alarm that a dozen of us riding together would. It was a compromise between safety in numbers and not alarming the locals.

Our job was to ride out to the location where my club brothers had found the bodies of the five gang members. The bodies were long removed, but when we arrived there was still police tape sectioning off a square piece of land, attached to three trees and a large boulder. Inside were dark patches where the bodies had bled out on the ground.

Glancing down, I muttered, “The next good rain should wash that way.”

Celt walked by and slapped me on the back. “Don’t ye start grieving over the lads who died here. They were feckin’ gang bangers.”

Celt’s thick Irish accent seemed never to fade away in the years that I’d known him. Much like Alicia, although he was speaking English, his heritage was evident in his speech.

Coyote stooped down to pick up one of the numbered yellow cones the police had used to mark the ground where clues were found. “Celt’s right. When criminals kill criminals it’s like the trash taking itself out.”

I grimaced because even criminals were people, who had families at home waiting on them. When did we become so uncaring and callous? Something about taking a life never sat right with me, I knew in our way of life it could be unavoidable, but still, it unsettled me.

Hornet spoke up from behind me, “It was probably for the best. The gang those assholes belonged to sold drugs to kids and trafficked women. There are five less of those fuckers to prey on the innocent people of this town.”

I reluctantly let go of any angst in my own mind. “Yeah, you’re probably right. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Celt took a guess. “Ye were thinking that even criminals are humans. I get that. I truly do. The thing is, I don’t feckin’ care, especially if they’re trafficking women. If someone did that to my Dusty, I would rip their feckin’ head off and let the good lord decide how wrong it was, come judgment day.”

I heard Coyote make a sound for us to be quiet and he waved us over. Only he was on the other side of a little creek, clearly a tributary of the river I used to escape the area with Alicia in tow. I barely remembered it was there because it was inconsequential to our escape at the time. We treaded through the water and looked to the area he was pointing to.

There were muddy footprints and what appeared to be drops of blood leading away and forming a trail. The initial drops were larger but then became smaller, someone had been running trying to find cover. Excited, we followed it. It led to a small cave. We drew our weapons and inched forward.

Celt started to take the lead, but I quickly stepped in front of him because he had a family waiting at home for him, a wife and kids. He frowned at me but allowed it. When I approached the cave, the smell hit me, and I lowered my gun. Whoever had come this way hadn’t made it out again. I ducked into the cave and what I found made my blood run cold.

“Take a look in here,” I shouted to the others.

They all crowded in, and we stared down at the dead body. It was a man in cowboy hat with one hell of a gunshot wound to the stomach. His face was unrecognizable as he’d already become food for the forest critters, but what I could see suggested that he might have been Latino. Though to be fair, I don’t know if his own mother would have recognized him now. He had opened a small first aid kit and tried to give himself first aid. I could tell because some bandages were bloody and cast aside like he’d lingered for days and didn’t make it through changing out his dressings. I guessed he’d gotten caught in the crossfire between Ramirez’s men and the gang bangers—though which side he belonged to was anyone’s guess.

Celt squatted down with his handkerchief held over his nose and mouth. After looking the man over, he announced. “I’m gonna say he’s been dead at least a week, maybe more since the cave is cool and doesn’t get a lot of sunlight.

Coyote thumped his hand on top of one of the crates. “Looks like drugs.”

Celt pointed to a couple that were shaped differently, longer than they were wide. “Those are crates for rifles or shotguns.” After rummaging through a couple of boxes to get a feel for how much was in each crate, Celt was silent for a moment. “I’m not sure of the exact street value of this stash but I think we’re looking at half a million dollars. Maybe more, depending on how pure the drugs are. Then there’s the guns on top of that.”

Hornet whistled. “That’s a lot of drugs. Too bad we have to destroy them all.”

“Yeah, too bad. But we can’t let Griffinsford get flooded with this shit.”

Celt gave a jerky shrug. “That’ll be up to Storm and the other club officers. Our job is to find shit. Their job is to figure out what to do with it. This is too much for us to carry out of here ourselves. I’ll call it in to Storm and he can send a van and some extra muscle.”

He turned and pulled out his cell phone. Within moments of him getting Storm on the line for a video call and panning his cell phone around for our club president to see the loot, another phone started ringing. In the dimly lit cave I could see a phone beside the dead man. The caller ID flashed up as Ramirez.

Almost without a conscious thought I walked over, picked it up and answered it.

“Yeah.”

“Hernando. Damn it I thought you were dead. From now on when I call, you pick up the damned phone.”

I glanced over at Celt who was looking at me like I was crazy. He started making a slashing motion across his neck with his free hand. It took me a second to realize that he wanted me to hang up, so I did.

“What the actual fuck, Mace. Why would you answer the dead guy’s phone?”

Without making any effort to soft-pedal my answer, I told him the truth, “It was Ramirez, I was thinking of telling him that his man was dead, I had possession of all his drugs and if he wanted it back, I was willing to trade for Alicia’s mom as long as she was unharmed.” I shrugged, “Or something along those lines.”

Storm said something and Celt put him on speaker phone. “Actually, that’s not a half bad idea. We need to remove all the loot to a safe location and work a little harder to come up with a foolproof plan, but your idea might work.” Storm’s tone of voice changed, became darker. “When you get back to the clubhouse, come and talk to me immediately, Mace.”

When the screen went dark, Celt turned to me. “I know Storm’s my feckin’ cousin, but I cannot save ye from yerself. No more doin’ whatever random shite pops into yer head from now on.” Pointing his cell phone at me, he grumbled, “Ye got that?”

I nodded, feeling both foolish and clever, because I had a good idea, just the wrong execution. “I got it, brother. I’m a lone wolf, working on being a team player.”

We busied ourselves righting all the crates and getting them ready for transport. I was pretty sure the Slayers were just going to drop the dead man at our dumping site rather than get the police involved. Of course that would be up to Storm and the club officers to decide. I’m used to making decisions for myself, but I’m slowly learning the benefits of taking a more collaborative approach. Storm has often told us that we’re stronger together than any one of us is alone and I’m starting to believe it.

It doesn’t take long for one of our club vans to show up with Storm and six prospects. While Storm talks to us about our find, the prospects make short work of loading the van with the loot we found. They even put the dead man in a body bag. At least I had the foresight to take a pic of him with my cell phone so we could show Alicia. She might be able to ID him. So far all we knew was that his first name was Hernando, since he didn’t have any identification on him.

***

I passed by Alicia with my club brothers and didn’t stop because I wanted to debrief with Storm and then wash the scent of death off my body. Nine trotted over but stopped about four feet away and looked at me strangely, so I knew he was picking up the odor. “Go lay down, boy,” I told him, as I pointed back to Alicia.

He obeyed, probably because he didn’t want to leave her side to start out with, I thought ruefully, that it looked like my wolfdog was becoming just as fond of her as I was.

Before I headed to Storm’s office I had a thought, I quickly went to Alicia and showed her the photo I’d taken, the revolted look on her face made me realize I should have told her what I was about to show her first, but I was on an adrenaline high and not thinking, “Sorry, darlin’. I should have warned you. Do you know him?”

She swallowed like she was trying hard not to be sick and nodded, before saying weakly, “Hernando, he’s one of my father’s main men. I know his face was…” her words trailed off. His face had pretty much been eaten. She straightened her shoulders and continued, “I recognize his hat, he wore it all the time. Also the shirt. I’d washed it enough times.”

“Thanks, Alicia. I need to go and tell the club officers that.”

I followed Celt into Storm’s office, where I got yelled at for twenty minutes about what a stupid idea it was to pick up Hernando’s phone and pretend to be him. Only then did Storm admit that this might work to our advantage, especially when I told him that Alicia had confirmed he was one of her father’s men.

“He thinks the guy he left guarding his ill-gotten gains is still alive. That means he’ll be extra shocked when we call him and drop the news that we’ve captured him and taken all his product too. We don’t know how important Hernando is to his group. We only know that he’s not their leader because Alicia’s father is and he’s not the second in command because Alejandro is. The bottom line is he was trusted enough to guard their shit while they went back to Mexico, so leading them to believe he’s still alive could only work to our favor.”

After his long speech, Storm looked at us expectantly.

I nodded. “Sounds reasonable.”

Celt went off on a fiery rant about how these guys are members of the cartel. That they’re not going to value any one person over their loot. I thought he was onto something, but I let him and Storm argue it out. They’re cousins and I assumed no one wanted to get between them. I know I didn’t. In the end Storm won the argument, because of course he always does. Storm’s the fucking smartest person I knew. He wins all the arguments as far as I can tell. I didn’t know why Celt even bothered, unless he just enjoyed arguing.

***

If I’d thought they were going to get me to make the call to Alicia’s father, I would have been very much mistaken about that. A few hours later Storm decided to make that call himself and it was something to see, because he had a plan in place to ensure the cartel’s cooperation.

Once we were outside the clubhouse with a few cases of drugs and a burn barrel with a robust fire, he dialed the number of the last incoming call.

The same voice as before answered, deep and menacing, “What the fuck, Hernando. Why did you hang up on me? Has that gunshot addled your brain.”

Storm interjected in a firm voice. “He hung up because the Dark Slayers MC showed up.”

“Who the hell are you?” the surprised man asked.

“I’m Storm, the president of the Dark Slayers.” Storm’s voice was calm and matter of fact, like he dealt with members of the cartel just about every day.

“That means nothing to me,” the other man responded. “Put Hernando on the line.”

“I’m afraid he’s indisposed at the moment. You see, there was scuffle, and the Slayers won. That means, I’m the man currently in possession of all the shit you left in that cave. Don’t worry about Hernando. We’ve got him tucked away in a safe location for now.”

“You have my merchandise?” The tone of the man’s voice grew stone cold. It was chilling to hear.

“I just said that I did. Weren’t you listening? Look asshole, you need to sit up and pay attention because I don’t like repeating myself.”

It had not escaped my notice that Storm was being as antagonistic as possible. I expected him to manage Juan Ramirez a little better. Pissing him off when he had control over Alicia’s mother seemed like a really bad idea.

“This is not a negotiation. I want my merchandise returned immediately. No questions asked. You return my merchandise, and I will let you live. Those are my terms.”

“Well, that’s not gonna work for us. I’m willing to give you your merchandise back in exchange for Alicia’s mother.”

“You mean my wife. Hell the fuck no, cabron . I want my daughter back, not to give up my woman.”

“I’m afraid that’s the only deal on the table right now. Take it or leave it.”

“So, Alicia wants her mama, does she? How about this deal, you give me my merchandise, or I hurt the person you wish to save?”

Suddenly, he switched on his camera and pulled a woman with long blonde hair and clear green eyes into the frame. He tangled his fist in her hair and slammed her forward into something. I was moving towards Storm before I thought to stop myself. When he pulled her back into the frame, she had a bloody nose. Celt jerked me back and held onto me, whispering, “Don’t interfere, let Storm work the plan.”

“Are you going to comply with my demands or are you going to watch me destroy her?” he sneered.

“I’m not your fucking daughter,” Storm pointed out. “I don’t care if you hurt your wife. It’s nothing to me. Unfortunately, every time you hurt your wife, I’m gonna destroy some of your product.” He turned the phone around so the older man could see Hornet throwing handfuls of his drugs into the burn barrel. My club brother was wearing a respirator as he gleefully threw in the packages. We were all standing upwind, but to be honest I was a bit worried we weren’t far enough away from that shit.

“Stop it you idiot! Do you have any idea the value of what you just burned could fetch on the open market?”

“Don’t care,” Storm replied. “Our club isn’t into selling drugs or illegal weapons. That means if you don’t follow my directions exactly, they’re all gonna go up in flames and I’ll be turning over your weapons to the cops. They have a program for the disposal of junk weapons.”

The man tossed the woman aside and yelled, “My weapons are not fucking junk!”

“Well, they’re nothing to write home about either. Look, we’re willing to trade, but for every scratch and bruise on her body, I’m gonna burn a brick of your merchandise. Am I making myself clear?”

“Yes,” he responded through gritted teeth.

“Good, I understand you’re supposed to be in town in the next couple of weeks. Let’s plan to meet at the same location you killed those gang members. The crime scene where you murdered five people will be last place the cops are likely to think you’ll be, right?”

“Yes, they don’t usually revisit crime scenes.” I could see the hatred glaring in his eyes, it was wild and a little unbalanced. Of course that could be because we were intent on taking his family away.

“Now, I want to talk to your wife.”

“Not a chance.”

Storm didn’t argue, he just turned the phone around and motioned for Hornet to burn some more of his shit.

Before Hornet could get it from the crate to the barrel, Ramirez croaked out, “Stop. Okay, you can talk to her. I don’t fucking care. Just stop burning my product.”

When he turned the phone around, Storm looked her in the eye and said, “Alicia sends her love. She’s safe. We’re coming for you, so be ready. Soon you’ll be safe and sound with your daughter in America. That’s our club’s vow to you.”

Before she could respond the phone went black and the call ended.

Hornet was the first one to speak. “Holy shit, boss. That was some hardcore shit right there.”

Celt ground out, “That fecker’s a dead man.”

I spoke up, “He’s mine. I don’t care about any of his men. But I’m gonna make damn sure he can’t ever come for Alicia or her mother again.”

Storm said the same thing we were all thinking. “This is one we handle ourselves. No cops before or after the event. We do them and dump them, it’s as simple as that.”

Grit, who had been standing back saying nothing, finally spoke. “This was a good plan. It worked perfectly. What we need is another good plan.”

Hacker jerked his head towards the back door. “We’d better get crackin’.”

We all walked solemnly into the clubhouse. Storm’s idea to use the man’s own drugs as leverage had been a smart one. But it was clear as day that Celt had been right about the drugs coming before anyone and anything else for the cartel. I don’t know why I was so surprised to see him casually bashing his wife’s face into the table that way. Maybe, because I’d never been exposed to domestic violence first-hand. I realized at that point what a blessing my upbringing had been, while at times my mom might have struggled after my dad died, she and my grandmother and all our people instilled into me a sense of right and wrong. A sense of honor.

The whole situation with Alicia’s family was fucked up as could be. The thought of her growing up with this man hovering around and abusing them was heart wrenching. I doubled down on my vow to make sure he never got within striking distance of Alicia ever again. I’d do whatever to took to keep her safe, I would even kill if it came down to it.