Page 18 of Cinder (MC Fables #2)

L ars

The stained-glass window over the long oak table bleeds morning light into the church. Beast stands at the head of the table, a seven-foot wall of leather and muscle, and with a temper forged in hellfire.

“Let’s get this shit started,” he growls, glancing down the line of my patched brothers.

We’re packed in around the heavy war table, oak carved by the first Knights who turned these castle ruins into a clubhouse more than a hundred years ago.

Beast doesn’t waste time. A military-grade AR-15 hits the middle of the table with a loud clank.

“Two weeks ago, Axe and Ryder intercepted a shitbox Hyundai up the back road near Cradle Pass. Inside were three twitchy tweakers and a military-grade AR-15. Not your average street gun. This one’s custom. Ghost serials, modded trigger. Same kind Lars found on that guy in the junkyard last month.”

My jaw tightens at the mention of the piece of shit who I took my time with because he was a raping murderer of young women.

A second gun hits the center of the table. This one an AK-105 rife. Beside it, Beast places a Soviet-style RGD-5 fragmentation grenade and a M84 flashbang.

“Night patrol picked these up when they intercepted a vodka delivery truck on the coastal road last night,” Beast says. “Six crates of each.”

The Knights run night patrol to ensure shit like this doesn’t leak into our town.

“Something about it felt off,” Bear explains. He was on patrol with Stone and Zac last night. “Pulled them over for a friendly chat.”

“Which quickly became not-so-friendly when a couple of assholes started shooting at us,” Zac explains.

Zac and I look like we could be brothers. Same Viking roots. Same shaved hair and blond ponytails. Same zero tolerance for assholes.

“I still don’t know how we didn’t get shot,” Bear says, leaning back in his chair and shaking his head.

“Because I ran him off the road when they started shooting,” Stone reminds him. Stone is our go-to when it comes to our Harleys. What he doesn’t know about them, or how to fix them, isn’t worth knowing.

“Where did this happen?” Ryder asks.

“The cliffs,” Bear replies.

“Gunfire would’ve alerted some of the nearby houses,” Ryder says.

“I spoke to the sheriff, and he assures me that won’t be a problem,” Beast says.

The Knights have a good relationship with Sheriff Coulter, and each month he gets a nice fat retainer for his troubles.

“What information did you get off the delivery driver?” Axe asks.

Axe is your friendly biker with a knife. He can kill quicker with a blade than most men can with a gun.

“The driver didn’t make it,” Bear says. “When the smoke cleared, they were dead, and we weren’t.”

“Do we know where this stash came from and who’s running it?” Ryder asks.

Beast replies, “Matches a stolen cache out of Nevada, from an old cartel warehouse. According to officials, the cache was supposed to be destroyed years ago.”

Gambit leans back in his chair, arms crossed. “Someone lied.”

“Bram ran a search and found a cluster of the same weapons showing up in police reports along the east coast,” Beast adds. “The sheriff is going to look into it further, see if we can’t catch a break from it. ”

“Do we know where the shipment was heading?” Ryder asks.

Beast sits in his chair at the end of the table. “The manifesto said New York.”

“Someone’s running product through St. Boniface,” Gambit says. “Using our back roads and river trails, maybe even the docks. Quiet town. No heat. Eventually they’ll figure out it’s the perfect place to stash heat.”

“The fuck they will,” Beast growls. “We don’t run guns, and we don’t let fucking gunrunners use our town as a pass through or a safe house.”

Heads nod and the room pulses with a murmur of agreement.

This isn’t just business. It’s a code the Knights live by.

We don’t run guns, and we don’t traffic girls.

The only trafficking we do is good old Fantasia.

A drug that will make you feel like a million bucks, let you fuck for hours, and not get you hooked on a $200-a-day habit like dope.

Better than coke, and kinder to your liver than liquor, our Fantasia trade has made our club rich and kept a lot of other drugs off the streets of St. Boniface.

Why fuck with low-grade meth when you can feel real good for longer with Fantasia and not get strung out or addicted?

I know, it’s still a narcotic and illegal, and we’re criminals for harvesting, cooking and distributing it.

But fuck, one bump of Fantasia and you’ll forget that we’re the bad guys.

I scan the room. Everyone’s on edge. We’ve had peace ever since the feds tore apart our closest rivals, the Unhinged Psychos, and put away our previous mayor for corruption.

We’ve got a new mayor now. Sawyer Bennington.

He’s oily, like a lot of officials. But he isn’t trying to run us out of town or set us up like his predecessor.

But one thing I’ve learned during my time as enforcer for the Knights of St. Boniface, is that peace never lasts.

I look at the weapons on the table, and my gut tells me something big is coming.

“I detected movement on the dark web,” Bram says, pushing his coke-bottle glasses up his nose. “An anonymous supplier advertising clean coastal routes to move contraband.”

“Through St. Boniface?” Viking asks.

Viking is the oldest biker sitting around the table. With long blond hair and a beard to match, he has seen his fair share of war and battles over territory, and his wise old eyes tell me he can see one coming.

He’s also my old man, and I can read him like a book. He can see trouble coming.

We share a look across the table.

Beast nods. “Someone has profited from facilitating undetected distribution along our coastal route.”

“Has?” Bear asks.

“The deal is gone,” Bram says.

“Meaning someone purchased it,” Beast adds.

The Knights keep a tight eye on everything passing through St. Boniface and the 300 miles of coastline either side of our town. Meaning if you want to run your contraband along our route, we have to know about it.

In return, we make sure you pass through safely.

No local law enforcement.

No feds.

Bypassing St. Boniface and the surrounding counties is doable. But it’s a pain in the ass and adds time and logistics into the equation.

Which means more money.

Which means it’s just easier to fucking let the Knights know.

And if you don’t, and we find you, it’s going to cost you.

And if your cargo is human or guns, we’re going to hurt you.

“Any idea who advertised?” Ryder asks.

“The limited time it was up made it impossible to locate who was behind it. It was an encrypted account. Probably a fake company. But it’s someone local. They advertised local knowledge.”

A disbelieving murmur vibrates through the room.

“Could be anyone with a map,” Rogue says.

“No, they offered specialized local detail. From light changes to camera information,” Bram adds. “But that’s not the worst of it. These assholes know our routine. Our night patrols. Offered inside information about us so they can pass through our territory undetected. ”

“Right under our fucking noses,” Beast growls.

My hands curl into fists on the table in front of me. “Meaning we have a fucking rat.”

An unsettled energy moves through the room.

We’re a tight family. Being a rat would be the ultimate betrayal.

I look around the table at the faces of my club brothers. I trust every one of them with my life, and the thought that one of them would do this seems impossible.

“It’s someone close,” Beast says. “Someone who has access to the information.”

“We have people coming in and out of here all the time,” Bear says.

“Could be one of the delivery drivers,” Zac adds.

“Cheezy knows us, and he knows this town,” Gambit says, eyes narrowing.

“Do we really think Cheezy is smart enough to set this up?” Zac asks.

“Seems too sophisticated for him,” Bear adds.

“He knows our routines. Knows these roads like the back of his hand,” Rogue adds.

“Wouldn’t take much to wrap it all up in a nice tidy package and put it out there,” Gambit says.

I say nothing. But my gut knots. Because Cheezy’s possible involvement stirs the suspicions I already have about Ella. She came as his date. If he’s involved in this, then she might be too.

“Cheezy might be a big talker, but he knows these roads better than anyone I know,” Zac says.

“We know it’s not one of us,” Stone says. “I agree it’s gotta be someone who has access to us. But Cheezy is one of many.”

My old man adds, “He’s right. Cheezy isn’t the only one.”

“Bram will keep an eye on the dark web for any more fucking deals. In the meantime, our priority is to find out who bought our route.” Beast’s gaze narrows in on the Russian weapons sitting in the center of the table.

“Starting tonight, we’ll start two three-man patrols.

I want eyes on all the mountain roads, river trail, and docks.

Bram can handle a lot of it via cameras, but we need to be out there, and we need to be focused. ”

There is a murmur of agreement around the table.

“In the meantime, we received word from an informant about a warehouse housing some guns. Not sure if it’s anything to do with this, but we’ll check it out. Bram has already done recon with the drones. From what we can tell, there’s limited fire power in the perimeter. But there are cameras.”

“Which I can disable,” Bram adds. “But the system has an alert on it, so if it’s disabled for too long, their security will be triggered.”

“Meaning we’ve only got a small period of time to get inside that warehouse and see what we’re facing.

” Beast looks around the table. “Bear, Ryder, and Stone, you’ll take care of the fire power outside.

Lars and Zac, you’re with me inside that warehouse.

” We all nod in agreement. “Meet me at the bikes in thirty minutes. Let’s find these assholes and show them what we think about people who try to run contraband through our town. ”

He brings church to an end with a hard smack of the gavel on the table.

The room empties quickly, but before I can leave, Beast asks me to hang back.

“You think there’s any stick to Cheezy being our guy?” he asks as we walk toward the door.

“He’s an asshole. But smart enough for this? I don’t think so.”

“Me neither.”

“Then what’s your next move with him?”

“Bram is checking into his financials. See if there’s any suspicious payments. Don’t want to spook him until I’ve got something to spook him with.” He gives me a raised eyebrow. “I see there is a new face in the kitchen. Cheezy’s date from the party. Wanna tell me what that’s about?”

“Don’t read anything into it. Kid needed a job. Her last boss liked to hit.”

“Is that how she got that shiner on her cheek?”

I nod. But inwardly the urge to find the man who hurt her twists like a pit of vipers in my guts. I want to find him. Just so I can hurt him .

“I figured she needed a new job, Mrs. V. needed a new kitchen hand, so I killed two birds with one stone.”

“Do we know anything about her?”

“Bram will do the usual background checks this morning. She had all the necessary identification for the hiring process. She looks legit.”

I conveniently ignore the curl of unease in my gut.

I don’t believe for a second that she is tied up with whoever is selling the Knights information on the dark web.

But she is still a mystery.

And until I crack the mystery, there is always a need to be on alert.

“Since when do you go around offering random women jobs?” Beast asks.

“Since I met a girl whose asshole boss liked to put his fist in her face.”

There is not one Knight who condones violence against women and children. If they did, they wouldn’t wear the cut.

“I don’t want this to turn into a problem,” Beast says. “If you need to get something out of your system, then get the fuck on with it. If I’m right, shit’s about to hit the fucking fan and I need you focused.”

I share the same feeling.

“Like I said, she’s just a kid that needs a job,” I assure him .

“She’s not a kid. And don’t even try to tell me you haven’t noticed.”

“Point taken.”

He’s right. I can lie all I want, but the truth is, Ella’s got my attention.

Worst of all, she’s got me interested.