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CHAPTER FIFTEEN: CHROME

After climbing onto my bike, I take the long way back to the clubhouse. I see the picture clearly, but don’t want to believe it. If someone had told me before Babe and Min’s arrival that I’d suspect someone in my club of being a traitor, I’d have shot them dead for insulting my men. But now, here I am, believing it and knowing it.

I now also believe that the traitor is not just a brother but also my VP. My fucking second-in-command. The man who had been my best friend since we were crawling around on the clubhouse floor. How the fuck did that happen?

When Babe first suggested we had a traitor, I dismissed his claim. I dismissed his claim when the cult moved the imprisoned women soon after we sussed out their locations. Was the timing of those moves suspicious? Yes. But unlike Babe, I didn’t believe one of my men contacted them. However, the attack on Mode inside our clubhouse made me face the truth. But Scorch hadn’t been at the clubhouse when someone attacked Mode. Right? He was at the auto shop. So, he couldn’t have done it. Right?

But Michaelson claims to have seen two men wearing Demon Dawg kuttes. Does that mean we have more than one traitor? Fuck. Did Trigger and Scorch work together to free Fenhua and fake the attack on them?

Maybe Trigger is the traitor, and Scorch isn’t involved. Scorch had been driving the SUV when Fenhua supposedly overpowered them both. That story never felt right to me. How could Fenhua have gotten the upper hand over both Scorch and Trigger? The only way was if one or both of them were working with Fenhua. Could Trigger be the traitor and Scorch another victim? Possible. But then, why did Scorch have Blue’s bike? A bike that was delivered to Scorch by men who likely worked for Fenhua. Payment? For what? Helping Fenhua escape?

Does all of this make Scorch guilty? No, but I’d be letting down my club if I didn’t pursue it. Parking, I step inside the clubhouse and look around. The common room isn’t empty, but it is quiet. More than a dozen men sit scattered across the large room. Most sit by themselves. The few who share a table aren’t sharing a conversation. The atmosphere is bleak. This is what having a rat in the house does to a group that relies on trust to function.

When the trust is gone, suspicion is all that remains. I look for Scorch and Trigger but don’t see either of them. I haven’t been around much, but I realize I haven’t seen much of either man since Fenhua’s escape. Is there a reason for their absence? Guilt? Or shame?

Approaching the bar, I ask Sammy for a beer.

“Quiet in here,” I comment.

“It’s been this way since Mode’s attack,” Sammy says.

I nod. “Have you seen Scorch around?”

Sammy shakes his head. “Not so much. He’s been in and out. I haven’t seen him since lunchtime.”

“If you see him, tell him I want a word,” I say without thinking. I’m unsure what to say to him, but I need to feel him out. See if he gives anything away. In the meantime, I’ll make use of the resources available to me. I move toward my office but stop outside. My door’s locked, but I’m not the only one with a key. Scorch has one. If he’s the traitor, wouldn’t it make sense to bug my office?

I slam my fist against my door, furious and sick. Passing my office, I jog upstairs to the third floor. Pounding on Byte’s door, I hear movement inside and a few choice words aimed at the door. He’s glowering when he opens the door, but his features shift when he sees me.

“What’s up?”

“I know you want to rest before returning to the hospital, but I need a favor first. Maybe two.”

“Sure, what do you need?”

“Can you sweep my office for bugs?”

He nods before grabbing a duffel bag from the floor. Across the hall, Eagle opens his door and enters the hallway.

“What’s up?”

“I’ve asked Byte to sweep my office for bugs.”

“You suspect someone?”

I only nod. Eagle follows us downstairs.

In my office, Byte pulls out a gadget, fiddles with it, and then uses it to scan the room. He says nothing until he finishes and turns the machine off. He looks at me and nods while holding up two fingers. He points at my desk first, then toward the corner where I have a small conference room table and chairs for quick meetings.

I hang my head as I accept the final proof of Scorch’s betrayal. He’s the only person besides me who has access to my office. He’s the only one who can plant the bugs. Byte searches through his bag again and pulls out a second device. He turns it on and then faces me.

“That will jam the signal. Who?”

Before I answer his question, I ask mine. “You’ve been looking into my crew. Did you start at the top or the bottom?”

“Started with the prospects,” Byte confirms. “Babe mentioned how much they see. I know Mode did a background check on the prospects, but if someone wanted to insert a spy intentionally, they could create a backstory that would pass our basic checks. That’s how Twerk burned us.”

I’d heard about the problems caused by the prospect Twerk. How he helped orchestrate the plan to frame Chaos, Dante’s SOA and best friend, for the murder of a Kutte Bunny. How he and his uncle Roadkill kept their relationship a secret as they tried to revive the flesh trade that Dante’s father ran before his murder. Twerk murdered a kid and took over his identity to hide his connection to Roadkill.

“Did you find anything of concern with the prospects?”

“No, they all checked out. I reran the tests, including facial recognition and fingerprints. They’re all straight up who they say they are. Also ran through their relationships, phone records, and bank accounts. They’re clean. I was moving to the members next, starting with the most recently patched.”

“Suggest you start at the top and work your way down,” I tell him.

“You’re thinking Scorch is the traitor?” Eagle asks.

“He’s the only other person with a key to my office. Then there’s this,” I pull out my phone and show them the bike. “It’s Blue’s bike. I confirmed it. Two of Fenhua’s men dropped it off at the auto shop for Scorch.”

“Fuck,” Byte says.

I huff out a humorless laugh. “Yeah, that about sums it up.”

“Okay, let me dig into him and see if I can find a link between him and Fenhua or Jordan.”

“Fuck, your VP. That’s a major shitstorm. Unless someone is setting him up to take the fall.”

I consider Eagle’s suggestion and want to cling to the possibility, but I can’t risk holding on to hope. I need to know for sure. And the only way to be certain is to question him in The Shed.

“The three of us can question him, but it would be smart to involve more men. Stone could come here and leave Padre on guard duty. But I think you should include Bush. Babe said he was certain Bush was solid. I’ve spent time with Bush and Piston, and I think they’re both solid. Byte could focus on Bush and Piston first, clear them before we approach Scorch.”

Byte nods in agreement.

I fight the urge to punch the wall. I hate every-fucking-thing about what we’re doing. These are my men, and I should be able to trust every single one of them. But instead, I’m having an outsider dig into their lives and search for shit. How the fuck did it get to the point where the only men I trust are the Nomads and a member of another club? I have renewed sympathy for Dante. He had to deal with something similar early in his Presidency. He purged the cancer from his club by bringing in Chaos, an outsider. Maybe looking from the outside in is the only way to purge the rot.

While I can sympathize with Dante, I can’t blame my current problem on anyone but myself. How did I not see the cancer growing inside my club? I was President when the Nomads first came through. They’d spent several months in my clubhouse. They tested everyone and found no one who had worked with Dale in the flesh trade, even though Dale’s partners lived in Chicago. Dale had kept my club and me out of his plans. He likely knew I’d never participate, or he didn’t want me working directly with his partners. Dale was a paranoid bastard. Betraying your club will do that to a man. He likely wanted to avoid the possibility of his partners and my teaming up, then cutting him out. Not that I would have. I have no problem living outside the law and committing crimes to line my pockets, but I’d never sink so low as to peddle flesh. Fuck, even prostitution was never a consideration when I thought of new businesses we could start.

No, I’d been unsurprised when the Nomads hadn’t found any of Dale’s men working in my club. We’d survived the Inquisition without losing a man. Maybe that’s why discovering we have a traitor now has hit hard. How did someone I trust come to betray me?

A knock on the door pulls me out of my thoughts. Sammy must have caught Scorch and told him I needed to see him. Bracing myself, I open the door.