Page 8

Rachel

“Mama, you need to calm down!” Vienna said, rushing to the end of the bed to grab hold of her as she came lunging at me.

“Calm down? Calm fucking down! That whore is—”

“Let her go, Vienna,” I interrupted, bringing my hand to my mouth and feigning a yawn. “It's been a while since I put a bitch on the floor. I'd love to break my dry spell with her.”

“You're not helping,” he responded through gritted teeth, glaring over his shoulder at me. “Mama, listen to me. Rachel hasn't done anything wrong!”

“So I'm supposed to believe it's a coincidence that both my sons were kidnapped less than a month after she arrives?”

“Ha! You think I had something to do with this? I hate to break it to you, Kitty, but I'm not the guilty one here. You are.”

“Me? What's that supposed to mean?”

“It means you and your shit parenting caused this. See him?” I gestured behind me at Shark. “Your fault. The blood on the carpet there?” Her head twisted to where I was pointing, the fight going out of her. “That's Dante's. Your fault. See the broken window? Macbeth's doing. Your fault.”

“That's not fair,” Vienna began, but I held my hand up to silence him. It wasn’t often I got the opportunity to put Mama in her place, and no one was going to interrupt me now that I was on a roll.

“Is it not? Did she ever once tell Dante that he was wrong to kidnap me? No, she didn’t.

What her son wanted, he got. So is it any surprise that kidnapping is the main tool Macbeth used when he saw how effective and approved it was when Dante did it?

” I turned back to Mama and directed my next words at her.

“Have you ever once put those boys in their place?

I saw it with my own eyes, the way you coddled Macbeth whenever he and Dante had been arguing.

Did you never once think to tell Macbeth to man up and accept Crash's decision that Dante was the new VP?

Or were you too busy trying to be their friend and not their mother?

You fed Macbeth's jealousy because it fed your need to be loved! So before you come in here shouting at me, I suggest you take a long, hard look at yourself, because your actions have led to this shit show today.”

Every pair of eyes were looking at me. Shark looked horrified, Crash looked fuming, Vienna was borderline giddy, the sick bastard, and Hacksaw was glancing at all of us and then looking away as though his retinas were burning.

But Mama was the most telling look. A horrified expression fell over her face as my words registered with her.

“You’re a vicious cow,” she muttered, her voice low and uneven.

“I’m an honest one. The truth isn’t always easy to hear, but someone needs to be the one to tell it. And I bet your goddamn ass you were willing to spew a bunch of lies about me because it would have made you feel better.”

“Is this a bad time?” Monster asked from the doorway, holding two beautiful Rottweilers.

“Probably best you come back later, brother,” Hacksaw said, throwing me a nasty look.

“You been practicing that in the mirror, Hacksaw?” I sneered at him. “It’s a five out of ten. Do you want to try again, and maybe bare more teeth this time?”

“Damn. She doesn’t like you today, does she?” Vienna laughed. “Do you want me to pretend to hold you back so you can feel better about yourself and fake lunge at her?”

“Fuck off, Ven.” Hacksaw snapped.

“Hey, that was better. That was at least a six.”

Hacksaw opened his mouth to say something, but then just shook his head and laughed at me. “You’re alright you are, Rachel. But fuck me, you’re not half annoying.”

“Thank you. It's my honour,” I grinned back.

“Well. Now that niceties are out of the way, I think it's high time you all told us what the fuck happened here,” Crash said, folding his arms and glaring at the lot of us.

“Fuck,” Crash hissed as Vienna finished telling him all we knew. He went over to Shark and held his hand out to him. Shark accepted, and Crash lowered his head until his forehead was pressed against Shark’s.

“Thank you, brother. The club won't forget what you did here tonight.”

“You'd have done the same for me.”

“Wheels and camaraderie.”

“Bound in brotherhood,” Shark replied with a whisper, closing his eyes as he recited the end of the club motto.

I fought not to roll my eyes.

Bound in brotherhood , I mocked in my head, my tone unattractive and bitter. But I couldn’t help myself.

What exactly was it achieving being a part of this club? Yes, they had “brothers”, but could they not all still refer to themselves as brothers without having a club to maintain? The club and their ridiculous rules brought nothing but trouble, as far as I was concerned.

“It’s a lifestyle,” came the whispered memory of Dante. “You wouldn’t understand unless you had been raised in it, or the life called to you. It’s not something that you can easily shake off. It becomes a part of you. It consumes you.”

It was stupid .

It was a bunch of men getting themselves in danger, all because of a self-proclaimed love of bikes.

How did the two even correlate? Why did it have to be that loving bikes meant fighting with someone who didn’t wear the same patch as you?

And couldn’t they just do a down and dirty street fight? I’d pay for tickets to that show.

Crash straightened and rubbed a hand over his face as he processed what he had learned. I was struck with how much he resembled Dante when he was stressed - and Lord knew I had seen enough of Dante being stressed and angry to know what he looked like.

I snuck a glance at Mama, who had yet to say another word, but had grown paler and paler as Vienna spoke.

Good.

I had no sympathy for the bitch. I meant every word I had thrown at her.

This club might be bound by loyalty, but they had a serious issue with standing up to her. It shouldn't have been up to me to tell her that she had pushed Macbeth to this. It should never have got this far in the first place. Someone should have stopped her from coddling Macbeth years ago.

“What's the last interaction people had with Macbeth?” Crash asked.

For some reason, I stayed silent. I didn't want them all to know I had fallen for his bullshit.

“I haven't seen him much since the club,” Vienna said.

“What club?” I asked, my ears pricking at the word.

“The one where we took Ben,” he responded with a shrug. “He disappeared, but that's nothing new. Macbeth doesn't like to get involved with most of the club business. And then he wondered why he was never chosen for VP.”

“Anyone else remember when they last saw Macbeth?”

“Disappeared where?” I persisted, ignoring Crash's question.

“Damned if I know, Rachel. He just disappeared. It was easier without him, anyway.”

“Forget it. Let's try a different approach. Does anyone have the faintest idea of who might be behind this?” Crash asked.

I didn't say much as they spoke amongst themselves. I was too busy digesting what Vienna had said. An awful feeling was bubbling in my stomach. If my suspicions were correct, this was about to get a whole lot messier than just two motorcycle clubs going to war.

“It's got to be the Riders, right? After we killed that prospect, this is their response. They've escalated.” Hacksaw was the first to respond.

“An act of war over a prospect?” Vienna shook his head. “Why would they do that?”

“Who says they’re going to kill him? Maybe they’re hoping we won’t declare war if they just rough him up and return him to us more or less whole?”

“That’s a stupid fucking idea,” Crash spat at Hacksaw. “If they were going to do that, they’d choose someone other than the president’s son. No, they have to have another motive in mind. Something that would be worth the risk of us retaliating in kind.”

“Perhaps they thought it worth it? What's the point of playing the long game?

I think we've all known for a long time where this was headed.

They killed Mickey, we killed their prospect.

They kill another of our members, we kill another of theirs.

It was always going to be tit for tat, until we were in a war that was drawn out over months, maybe years.

We were always toeing the line, but now they've cut corners and just gone for the big guys,” Shark said, but it sounded as though he was thinking out loud, rather than something he believed for a certain fact.

Crash walked over to the window as Shark spoke, looking out at the direction Dante was taken, keeping his back to us.

“Alright,” I began, “I know I'm new here, but I can't see why they would do that.

War means death. And war doesn't discriminate.

There's a huge chance someone important could die.

Like their president, for example. Fair enough, if they are behind this, then they've got our VP, but is it worth losing their top dog?”

My stomach twisted at the reminder.

They've got Dante. How is this even fucking possible?

“Who else could it have been?” Hacksaw said.

“Who else would want to cause harm?”

“Lots of people,” Vienna laughed. “We have enemies up and down the country. But none of them are strong enough to take us on. No one other than the Riders would even have a chance.”

“But if they had Macbeth on their side, wouldn't that change things?”

“Rachel, why are you so adamant that it's not them?” Crash asked, still looking out of the window.

“I'm not adamant. I'm not saying it's not them. I just don't think they were working alone. I've been thinking—”

“Oh, well, if Rachel has been thinking, it must be right!” Mama piped up.

“Oh, have we emerged from our pity party? N'aww. Are we feeling better?” I asked her, using the same tone I would use to speak to a young child.

“Let her speak, Mama,” Crash said when she opened her mouth to respond to me. I raised my eyebrows, both impressed with how he knew the exact moment she was about to talk, even though he wasn't looking at her, and the fact that he was allowing me to have a voice.

“Thank you. As I said, I've been thinking.

Dante told me that the Riders were clever.

He told me about Mickey, and how they had made it look as though it was a random attack.

So, if they were behind what happened here tonight, it just makes it seem like there would be a buffer - a scapegoat, if you will.

They're the puppet masters, but their puppets are going to be the ones to take the blame.”

“It does sound like something they would do. But who could they be working with?”

“I was thinking—”

“Anarchy's Angels!” Hacksaw said suddenly.

“Who the fuck are they, and what's with the alliteration all the time? Do you guys get discounts the fewer letters you use or something? Devil's, Riders, Angels… It's a bit weird. But it's nice you all have something in common.”

Vienna smiled at me. “The Angels are a motorcycle club. They're fairly small, but teamed up with the Riders… It's possible,” he shrugged.

“Would they want to merge with the Riders?” I asked.

“Doubt it,” Vienna shrugged. “They’re actively recruiting and trying to grow.”

“Right, so what logical sense does it make teaming up with one of the top dogs and potentially eviscerating half their new members? Come on. Common sense is chasing you, but you’re moving faster.

Think about it, I don’t think people are going to want to sign up for their club if they’re immediately thrown into war. ”

“So, what are you saying?” Vienna asked.

“I’m saying I don't think it's them.”

“You didn't even know they existed two seconds ago.”

“Exactly. Dante would have told me—”

“With all due respect, Rachel, no, he wouldn't,” Hacksaw said. “He's told you a lot, I'll give you that, but there was never any reason for the Angels to be brought up.”

“Exactly! For fuck's sake, will you just listen to me for a second? I think— ”

“We all know what we need to do. We're wasting time here,” Crash interrupted, keeping his back to me. “We call a church meeting.”

“I'll sound the alarm,” Vienna said, nodding his head.

“Err… No you won't.”

“Excuse me?” Crash said, finally turning around to glare at me. He shot me a nasty look, but I just straightened my spine and threw my head back in response.

I had seen that look a million and one times on his son's face. If he thought it would intimidate me, he was sorely fucking mistaken.

“You heard me. You're not calling a church meeting. I can't attend.”

“Okay… and?”

“And what? That's it. I can't attend. And I want to be part of this.”

“This is club business, Rachel. It's protocol.”

“I don't give a fuck about protocol. You're not discussing Dante's rescue without me. I have a right to—”

“You don't have a right to fuck all. This is the way the club works. I appreciate Dante has been lenient with you, and let you be privy to stuff some of the other old ladies might not know, but it doesn't mean we're going to break the club laws and let you attend the sanctity of church.”

“This is fucking bullshit! You're not even hearing—”

“Vienna, get the rest of the men together and take them to church. We take a vote on war, but I think we all know the answer. We’ll have Dante returned tonight. We're done here,” Crash interrupted me again, and walked past me to leave the room, effectively ending the conversation.

“Ven—” I began.

“It’s out of my hands, Rachel. This is the way it is. You should get yourself to church with your mother and Bee.”

“But I think Ben…” I let my words trail off as Hacksaw and Vienna placed their hands under Shark's armpits and gently hauled him out of bed.

They'll take the wounded cheese man, but they won't take me? What a joke.

They were never going to listen to me, so there was no point wasting my breath any further.

My gut was telling me who was behind this. If they weren't willing to listen to me, I'd go and figure out for myself whether or not I was right.

Fuck the club.