Page 26 of Indie
We had the best attendance ever in church that night. The upstairs room in my pub was packed. Every member of the club who should have been there was there. But that was what war did to you. No one missed these meetings now. Everyone eager for each tiny sliver of news, any tidbit that would tip us off to the Bloody Hand’s next move, and every member wanted the reassurance that the club had their back.
So far, we’d only had to deal with minor hits. Low-level break-ins, minor criminal damage and a few windows put out. Nothing the Police would be interested in and barely enough to get this biker spat on their radar. The attempt on my garage a few nights back was the biggest issue we had faced. Despite all of this, it was still a threat, a pattern of events that had always led to something in the past. I glanced around the table at the tense faces. The furrowed brow of Fury, Magnet’s jaw ticking, the only hint of tension in the luckiest man alive, and the Twins’ comedic antics unusually quiet, some brothers feeling the threat of a biker war for the very first time. Most of the younger members had only seen a few spats during their membership, because we’d extinguished the proper threat years before. But now they were reeling and nervous, and that in itself was dangerous.
Demon sat across from me, pensive. If he was tense, he wasn’t showing it, which was unusual for him. But maybe it was just the addition of Ciara in his life, the only person to tame his temper. And I couldn’t say I wasn’t jealous. That I’d watched him change, watch him evolve with his girl by his side. And suddenlyhe didn’t depend on the club anymore. Maybe that was what I needed, a distraction? A beautiful distraction of light bronze hair and blue-green eyes.
“Indie!” Fury’s voice pulled me from the inside of my head.
“Sorry, what?”
“How’s Ste?”
“He’s still alive,” I shrugged, wishing I was following the path of my own fantasy and not being forced to update the club about how their president was doing. “The chest infection isn’t clearing. It’s not looking good.”
The men at the table all reacted. A curt nod of acknowledgement from Big Red, a faint smile from Magnet, his face full of sympathy and his own pain, and the rest glanced at each other, their eyes diverted from me, as if looking at me and acknowledging my words was too much to bear. They should be on the fucking end of watching it all play out. Of hearing the incessant bleeping of those fucking machines, and not knowing whether the next alarm was going to signal the death of your own father, even though you knew it was coming.
“What news about the garage?” I asked the room, changing the subject, my head throbbing under the effort of being the leader they wanted in my father’s absence.
Magnet glanced at Fury, a wordless exchange between them.
“Come on then, let’s have it,” I prompted.
“Seems we’ve got a street gang on our asses now as well,” Fury started. “The break-in at your place? We couldn’t get anything from the plates of the truck and bike. Fakes. Our contact couldn’t trace them anywhere. And that same truck andthe bike were seen down the street from where they’d put Beanz’ windows out the night before.”
“Seems the fuckers are thick, too. They got out at Beanz’s place and yours and we could pick them up on camera,” Magnet continued excitedly. “More than one of them had the same tattoo. A playing card on their necks below their ears. An ace.”
“What the fuck do they want with us?” I asked the room, the blank faces and shrugs in reply, answering my question.
I nipped the bridge of my nose, closing my eyes, thinking. But all I could see behind my eyes was a swirl of shadows, of hate and fatigue. All we needed now was a street gang on our tails. Another thing to be looking over our shoulders for. And I had no idea why they’d be targeting us. Did the stupid fuckers not know who we were and what we could do?
“They’re called the Aces,” Magnet continued. I rolled my eyes.
“Never heard of them,” Demon grunted from across the side of the table.
“They’re small fry,” Magnet continued. “They were the ones that hit up the cutting house a few months back.”
“And why the fuck have we not dealt with them before now, then?”
My tiredness was pouring into the cracks in my persona. No one answered, instead each person round the table glancing at one another, hoping someone would offer themselves up as tribute for my wrath.
“Think we were too busy dealing with Demon’s shit, Indie. They hit us just before Demon laid out the Notorious President,” Fury answered, and I watched Demon shoot him a look.
“And then we got caught up with burying the bodies of the Polish mafia,” Magnet added, pushing Demon further under the bus.
“Fuck’s sake. This is the last thing we need. A biker war, the Mafia after our arses and some annoying fucking street gang giving us grief.”
“I don’t know want beef they’ve got was us, but don’t think it’ll take us long just to extinguish them, if that’s what you want to do Indie?” Big Red offered.
The question was for me, the future of the club right now in my hands. As Vice President, it was down to me to make that call. But I wasn’t a cold-blooded murderer, not like my father. Yet I was no saint. There was still blood on my hands. The many bodies I’d disposed of over the years were testament to that.
“Why don’t we send the prospects with some of the younger members?” Fury suggested. “Rough them up a bit. Introduce them to who they’re dealing with?”
But sending the prospects meant pulling Tony from his sentry duty and I didn’t want to leave Emmie unwatched.
I shook my head. “No. Demon will do it.”
Demon flashed me a look across the table, and I shrugged in response, inviting any challenge that he had. But he said nothing.
“I want them taught a lesson,” I spoke directly to Demon. “I want them to know who the Kings are. I want them to get the full feel of what we do, and the only person for that job is Demon. Magnet, Fury, Bill and Ben,” I turned towards the Twins now. “You provide back-up. Demon do your thing, break some bones,smash some skulls, but don’t kill anyone. The last thing we need is the police on our arses as well.”