Page 9

EIGHT

Rio

I’m back in the underground bunker finalizing the counts for East Texas when my phone rings. Sighing, I put my clipboard down and pull out my phone to see my cousin and president of the East Texas chapter of the King’s, Riptide, is calling.

“Hey, Brother,” I say once the line connects. “Wrapping up the counts now. Had an issue we had to take care of here before I could get things wrapped up.”

“Yeah, heard about that, Rio. Anything we can do to help?” he asks.

“We’ve found one of the assholes who thought they could touch what was mine, but we’re looking for the Mojave Devils fucker that was involved as well. Pokey’s running some facial recognition software through the web or some other platform shit to see if he can spot him on any of the cameras coming or going. So far, we’ve tracked him heading back toward where they hide,” I reply. “Do me a favor, have Booker reach out to Poke so he can put out the word. Our fucking truck is still MIA, which baffles me seeing as we’ve reported it stolen. You’d think the cops would put that shit out there, y’know?”

Most of our vehicles that we use on the ranch, have been specially modified since sometimes, it’s better to handle things as stealthily as possible. Brothers will ride in front of and behind the truck, but not close enough to be connected. That way, if the driver of the truck gets stopped, we know about it and can step in if necessary.

“I’ll shoot him a text now. You gonna have a problem with the wash?” he questions.

I chuckle then retort, “Have we ever?”

“Not so far. Got another one coming in two weeks,” he tells me.

“No problem, send Pokey the deets,” I say.

“You and Issy ever gonna make things official?” he asks. Nosey fucker.

Since his father was originally part of our chapter and both of us were groomed to be presidents at some point, he opted to take over the East Texas charter, which works for both of us since it meant we weren’t battling over who took the mantle for Paps. While I trust my brothers implicitly, I know that with Riptide being blood related, he’s got my back in a different way.

“Working on it, fucker,” I growl out. “She’s so fucking hardheaded sometimes it makes me wanna scream!”

His laughter booms through our connection, causing my lip to curl. “About time she ran you through your paces.” Then he grows serious and asks, “Need me to come down to talk to Gage?”

Yeah, no. That fucker’s all mine as far as I’m concerned. “Naw, we’ve got it.”

“If you need me, just call.”

“You got it. Let me wrap this shit up so the guys can get on the road. With one truck down, they’re having to do double duty.”

“Wouldn’t be a day in the Kings if we didn’t have volcanoes bubbling up, Brother,” he states.

“True that,” I agree. “Keep an eye out for the info once I have things sorted.”

“Will do.”

He knows as soon as we have his money in hand I’ll reach out and let him know how soon he can expect it in their account. Pokey does some complicated bullshit, but so far, we’ve never been caught, so it obviously works. Not like I understand shit about most of the technology he uses. I just trust my brother knows his shit and I am beyond confident he’s got our interests at the top of his priority list.

Thankfully, I have no more interruptions so I’m able to get the final counts, reach out to our contact with the cartel and set up a time for the exchange, then let Q-Ball know those details so he can get the run sorted out.

Satisfied, I leave the bunker and head to the room where Gage is being kept. It’s time to get some answers.

“I see you’re awake,” I state when I spot Gage sitting up in the bed, clutching his ribcage since it took most of the beating. He looks worse today than when we found him because all the bruising and swelling is evident now that the blood has been washed away.

He stares at me; his eyes mere slits and I see him take a deep breath then wince. “Rafe, I can explain.”

When BamBam and Gopher walk into the room to stand behind me, their arms crossed over their chests, I see him pale even more. Good. I want the motherfucker scared shitless.

“Right now, I almost don’t give that first fuck what your pussified excuse is for why you let not only Issy down, but the club,” BamBam utters.

His tone is low and sinister, and I know he’s barely holding on to his temper because of the danger Issy was in due to his actions.

“I kinda wanna hear what he has to say,” Gopher says, looking over at BamBam. “Could be good for a laugh which we’ve not had much reason to do thanks to this jokester.”

“Well, the Prez has the deciding vote,” Pokey interjects, having joined this particular party. When I see he’s got his laptop along with a sheaf of papers, I know he’s found something that’ll explain exactly what the fuck happened. He hands them to me, and I step away to lean against the wall while the three of them stand there in intimidating stances.

One thing I can say about Pokey is that he is thorough as hell. If there’s information to be found, he’s going to dig it out no matter how well it’s hidden. Not only that, but in this instance, he has accompanying information for the shit he found. I read through it twice then hand it back to Pokey. I know BamBam and Abyss will follow my lead, so I step forward until I’m at the side of the bed closest to Gage.

“A little sister, huh? Cherise, age sixteen? Perfect age to be trafficked,” I state. “When did you find out about her, Gage? You’ve never mentioned a sister in all the years I’ve known you. Hell, that we’ve known you.”

I’m not ready to let him know that Issy is back home, safe and sound. Nor the fact that we have both horses, one of our two trailers, and one of the trucks. I want him to sweat for a bit before I relay those tidbits to him.

He nods then starts talking, his stutter making it difficult to understand. Still, I know between the four of us, we’ll be able to figure it out then go from there as far as what to do about him. “I-I-I… I found out a-a-about Cherise six or so months ago, R–r-r-afe.”

“Rio,” I snap. Right now, he’s not talking to a long-time friend, he’s talking to the President of the Kings of Anarchy, West Texas chapter. My tone is flat with little inflection although it’s taking everything in me not to lose my shit.

“Rio,” he amends. “M-m-mike L-l-opez reached out to me.”

“Who the fuck is Mike Lopez?” BamBam bellows the question, looking as if he’s ready to lunge and wrap his hands around Gage’s neck. “Never heard of the fucker.”

Pokey waves the papers as he quickly reads through the pages until he finds the one that holds what he’s looking for. “Mike Lopez, also known as Four, is a member of the Mojave Devils Motorcycle Club. Rap sheet is a mile long, including stints in jail for possession of meth with intent to distribute, contributing to the delinquency of a minor, assault, domestic violence, and a few more low-level drug charges. He’s a piece of shit, but most of those assholes are,” Pokey advises, glaring straight at Gage. “Why on earth you’d get into bed with those fuckers who not only manufacture but distribute that fucking poison, but they also peddle flesh, Gage. Do you realize you traded Issy, our Issy to a bunch of vile pedophiles? Because some of the girls they’ve taken are definitely not old enough to consent to anything of a sexual nature.”

“How could you?” I mutter, disgust lacing my tone. “Continue your tale of woe, Gage, but just understand, there’s never ever going to be an excuse that I’ll accept for you trading Issy to anyone in order to save someone else. You get me?”

“Y-y-yeah, Rio. I d-d-didn’t know I had a sister. You know I don’t have any kind of contact with that bitch who birthed me. Mike, I mean Four, called and told me that unless I got Issy to them, they were gonna sell my sister.”

He’s now quietly crying, tears tracking through the bruises. I see him wince when the salt from his tears hit his split lips and smirk, loving that he’s getting even more pain from his stupidity. By now, he knows he could’ve come to me, and we would’ve helped him handle this shit. Years of friendship has proven that if nothing else. The fact that he went about this in a backhanded way, doesn’t make any damn sense. He obviously was using the head beneath his pants instead of the one attached to his neck.

“So, you took the word of a low-life piece of shit that this so-called sister, who you’ve never met, was gonna be trafficked if you didn’t get them Issy? Do I have that right?” I say, my voice now silky soft with an undertone of venom. “A woman that you’ve been friends with, for nearly a decade, meant so little to you that you’d send her straight into the pits of Hell? Help me understand, Gage, because I’m just not getting it right now.”

“T-t-they’ve wanted Issy for years, Rio,” he says. “R-r-remember when we were at that rodeo years ago and saw some of them slinking around? T-t-they saw Issy ride t-then saw her in the stables and Mike became obsessed with her. H-h-he wants her as his old lady.”

Fuck that noise. That would never happen in my lifetime. Hell, if push came to shove and it meant saving her from the shit they’d put her through based on the stories we’ve heard over the years, I’d kill her myself. Granted, I’d join her in the afterlife because there’s no life worth living if she’s not in it.

“Man, Prez, he just keeps digging that hole a little bit deeper,” Gopher states.

“Means we don’t have to have Mongrel or Mutt do it,” BamBam retorts. Both now have a maniacal smirk on their faces. It’s one designed to scare the daylights out of anyone who fucks with us.

“I know you’re not a member of the club, Gage, but you’ve been around long enough you know what our motto is, right?” Pokey asks.

“Nobody fucks with the Kings,” Gage says, his voice barely above a whisper.

“What? I couldn’t hear you. Speak up!” I command.

“Nobody fucks with the Kings,” Gage repeats. This time, he’s louder.

“With this shit you pulled, what did you do?” I question, glaring at him.

“Fucked with the Kings,” Gage murmurs, his body starting to shake. “I-I-I didn’t k-k-know what to do, Rio.” Now he’s sounding whiny which pisses me off.

“Jeez, let’s see, you coulda gone to Rio and said, ‘Hey, man, I got a problem with something. Think you can help?’” BamBam rumbles out. “I mean, that’s what I would do. What about you, Abyss? Pokey? Prez?”

“T-t-they t-t-hreatened my mom, too,” he adds.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Gage!” I exclaim, my voice exploding through the room with anger and pure, unadulterated rage. “You hate that fucking bitch! Why would you care if they threatened her?”

He hangs his head in shame as my words blast him. “She’s still my mom, Rio,” he whispers.

“And?” I bark out. “Who the fuck cares? Issy trusted you, Gage. Whenever I’m not able to go with her, you’re the one who has her back. You not only put her in a position to be violently assaulted or worse, but you drugged her to boot! What do you think that did to her?”

“I-I-I’m sorry,” he says. “Is… did you find her? Is she okay?”

BamBam rolls his eyes. “You drugged her and attacked her and now you have the fucking audacity to ask if she’s okay? Are you a fucking moron or something? Did you start sampling the Devils’ product? Because that’s the only thing that makes any kind of sense to me.”

“We’ll be back,” I state, my heart racing at what could’ve happened to Issy.