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Chapter Three

The Mid-Blow Job Antibiotic Saga

D arrow typed on a laptop when it suddenly disappeared. He was too stuck between dazed and focused to realize Cyrus had entered the room and grabbed the laptop. It wasn’t until the laptop smashed against the wall behind Darrow did he snap back to reality.

The letter J hit the table while the rest of the now shattered laptop lay scattered and beat up on the floor. Darrow jumped up, allowing Cyrus to grab his shirt.

Oh, fuck, he knows about Mara. How the fuck could he know about Mara?

Without hesitation, Darrow threw his hands up, breaking Cyrus’s hold. Then he pushed at Cyrus’s massive, muscular chest, sending the President of SOFRAW back a step.

This was why Priest was needed. For as mean and violent and absolutely insane as the outlaw was, he would bring a sense of levity to everything. There was absolutely no need for Cyrus to be going after members. Even if Darrow felt guilt stirring in his stomach like a toxic soup.

“Find something!” Cyrus barked at Darrow. “You’re on that fucking laptop for hours and you have nothing! What the fuck are you doing? Looking at porn?”

“You want to hack into the city cameras, Prez ?” Darrow asked.

Now Linc and Slade were in the room, getting between Cyrus and Darrow. Both men wrong in their own ways. Both men also right in their own ways.

“Tension is high, guys,” Slade said. “We all need a minute. We all need a breath.”

“Meeting is set,” Linc said to Cyrus. “Come on. Let’s handle this.”

Darrow kicked at the shattered laptop. “You’re right, Prez . I can sit there for hours and I’ll find nothing. Fitz is smart. Too smart. He knows how we would handle this.”

Cyrus curled his lip, then turned and walked out of the room.

“Take it easy, Darrow,” Slade said. “End of the day, he’s still—”

“I know who the fuck he is,” Darrow growled at Slade.

Now these two outlaws were facing off. Going damn near nose to nose. Slade easily saw something eating away at Darrow.

This club is falling apart, Slade thought to himself.

“You know I’m right about Fitz,” Darrow said.

“We need to stay close to Cyrus, no matter what.”

Darrow’s jaw tightened and he nodded. No use in fighting with Slade or with Cyrus. At the end of the day, Darrow knew he was maybe just as guilty as Fitz at this point.

He thought about Mara right now. In his bed, but not like that. Mara had almost goddamn fallen asleep in the bathtub last night. With the amount of wine and Xanax in her system, she would have easily drowned…

Darrow knocked at the door a few times, calling her name. When she didn’t respond, he had no choice but to open the bathroom door to check on her. When he did, he found Mara sliding down into the water. There were still some bubbles, ironically somehow placed directly over her tits.

Darrow saw skin, plenty of skin. It was very obvious that Mara had a nice chest. T-shirts and hoodies and other tops proved that several times. But now standing there, seeing her body in the bathwater…

More than once Mara had offered herself as some form of payment for her safekeeping at the moment. That only came when she was even more messed up than she was now.

Darrow grabbed a towel and opened it wide. He called out Mara’s name, loudly, making her wake up. She looked at him with her hazy wine and Xanax laced eyes. Her eyes filled with tears. Her teeth chattered. She grabbed for the edge of the bathtub. She also bit her bottom lip.

“You’re going to fucking kill yourself like this,” Darrow said.

That was the only time he spoke out about Mara’s current rituals.

“Get yourself dried off and get into my bed and sleep,” he said.

Darrow kept thinking about that moment last night. Fucking around with a member’s old lady…? An inked up woman? Bad enough he was housing the wife of the rat who put Priest into a fucking coma…

“Hey, are you here?” Slade asked Darrow.

Darrow rubbed his jaw and nodded. He pointed at Maggie. He needed a shot of whiskey.

Never once before had he thought about ruining his life for a piece of ass. But now with Mara in his bed… Put it this way—Darrow wasn’t going to sleep on his own fucking bed for the rest of his life.

Put a man and woman together, both of them with a secret, and it only seemed natural and instinctual for them to eventually become drawn to one another. Add to that the fact that they both secretly had wanted one another for years … It was like dumping gasoline onto a fire.

Darrow downed his shot of whiskey and exited the clubhouse. Outlaws weren’t the good guys, and they never would be. They lived by a different set of rules, laws, and a different kind of justice. Darrow looked at it this way…

If he was going to get his head cut off by the club he loved, at least it would be after fucking someone as beautiful as Mara.

The stripper groaned as she drove her thong-laced ass down against Darrow’s bulge. He slapped her ass. She groaned. Then he pushed her away. She stumbled forward and spun around, running a hand through her half blonde, half neon green hair. Her large, fake tits barely even moved.

“What the fuck?”

“I’m working,” Darrow said.

His cock ached inside his jeans. The stripper, pissed off, stormed out of the private room. Darrow stood up and looked to his left at Slade.

“Since when do you turn down free pussy?”

“Time and place,” Darrow said. “What the fuck are we doing?”

“Waiting,” Slade said. “Give it a second or two.”

Exactly three seconds later, Chief Dick Rundle came stumbling into the private room. The crooked cop was still trying to zip his pants and fasten his belt. Cyrus entered the room behind Chief Dick.

“Oh, Christ,” Chief Dick said.

“Look at your hair,” Darrow said. “What the hell were you doing?”

“Motorboating a set of tits so big they could be a cruise ship,” Chief Dick said.

“Is that supposed to make sense?” Slade asked.

Chief Dick hurried to run his hands through his hair to fix it.

“You know, if Priest were here, he would have dragged you in here by your dick,” Cyrus said.

“How is he doing? Any updates?” Chief Dick asked.

“Nothing,” Slade said as he stood up. “We’re not here to talk about Priest.”

“You have information we need,” Cyrus said.

“If you want me to hack into your systems, I will,” Darrow said. “But do we need to do that? Chief …?”

All three outlaws closed in on Chief Dick Rundle. He knew where his power remained. Where it heated up and where it cooled off. Right now, Chief Dick Rundle’s power was colder than a fucking iceberg. These outlaws were way beyond angry right now.

“You all know I have nothing to do with what happened to your guy,” Chief Dick said.

“He was working for someone,” Cyrus said. “Wanting to sell out the club.”

“Fucking rat,” Darrow growled.

“Are you a friend of a rat?” Slade asked. “See, without Priest around to handle certain things, we’re sort of… on our own.”

“Small town could use a change,” Cyrus said. “New police… huh?”

“Jesus Christ, Cyrus,” Chief Dick said. “Are you fucking threatening to kill me right now? Who the fuck do you think you are? Who the fuck do you think I am?”

Darrow stepped closer to Chief Dick. “I hate the smell of rats…”

“I’m not part of that shit,” Chief Dick growled.

Cyrus grabbed Chief Dick’s right shoulder. “But you are. That badge you wear. You’re a rat to it. For us. For what we do.”

“I’ve been waiting on my end for something to shake loose for days,” Chief Dick said. “We never put a detective in charge of anything to do with your club. And even if something like that were to happen, you’d know about it. I’ve been working long hours. I stopped over here for a lunch break.”

“For a fish sandwich?” Slade asked.

“Hope you’re taking antibiotics if you’re eating the cunt around here,” Darrow said.

“I’m pulling personal files,” Chief Dick said. “I’ve got a few names that could be the one who went rogue on us. And you all need to remember that. They went rogue. Not me. Our arrangement is still the same.”

Cyrus leaned down closer to Chief Dick. “ Our arrangement ? We don’t have a fucking arrangement. You do what you’re told when you’re told to do it. Like a good dog. Like if I told you right now to get on your hands and knees and lick my boots… you’d do it… right?”

“I will not be spoken to like this,” Chief Dick said.

“Too fucking late,” Darrow said.

“Names!” Slade roared. “Right now!”

Chief Dick curled his lip. “You are not going to just show up to the houses of detectives and cause problems. Plus, do you think I haven’t done it yet? Huh? Do you realize what it takes to put something like this in motion without having heat come back at you?”

The room fell silent. Both Slade and Darrow waited for Cyrus to speak.

“I don’t need you guys going fucking crazy and doing stupid shit,” Chief Dick said. “If you don’t think I take this seriously, then what the fuck are we doing here? First detective has been fully vetted. No chance. The other two I’m looking into. One is on the job right now today. The other we’re waiting to hear back from.”

Cyrus’s eyes went wide.

Chief Dick held up a hand. “After my lunch break here I was going to personally look around. I had to use my own resources on this one, okay? He’s got a cabin up near the Lamake area.”

“I guess we’re climbing a mountain today,” Cyrus said.

“Jesus Christ, guys,” Chief Dick said. “Let me go and see what’s happening. Anything seems off and you’re my first phone call.”

“But we’re already here,” Darrow said. “And together.”

“We’ll keep you safe, Chief ,” Slade said.

Cyrus got even closer to Chief Dick. He showed his teeth.

“We promise…”

They arrived at the cabin in the woods less than an hour later. When Chief Dick ordered them to hang back, the outlaws didn’t listen. They pulled out their weapons and walked toward the cabin, ready for a fight.

All Chief Dick could do was run his hands through his hair again. He wasn’t sure what he was more pissed off about—having SOFRAW ready to start a war or the fact that he had been mid-blow job from a beautiful stripper when things got interrupted.

None of that mattered now.

Cyrus took the lead and both Slade and Darrow had to get in front of him. They respected that their President wanted to be the lead, but they had to protect him. Darrow was the one who kicked the door open. Slade entered first, gun in hand, eyes searching. Cyrus entered last, behind Darrow.

A smell hits Cyrus’s nose. “Fuck.”

“Yeah,” Darrow said. “Something is wrong here. Hang back a second, Prez .”

Slade looked around the trashed kitchen. Beer bottles, some intact and some broken, littered around. Whiskey bottles too. The table flipped on its side. But that smell…

As soon as Slade stepped into the living room, he froze. “Fuck!”

Cyrus hurried right by Darrow to get into the living room area. Darrow chased him. The three outlaws stood shoulder to shoulder to shoulder and couldn’t believe their eyes. Behind them Chief Dick pushed his way through.

“Oh, fuck,” Chief Dick said.

Now all four stood there, staring down at a man only Chief Dick knew.

“He’s yours?” Cyrus asked.

“Yeah,” Chief Dick said. “Safe to say he’s the one who had been working your rat.”

The detective had his wrists tied at the front of his body. His ankles tied up. A gag wrapped around his mouth. His eyes were open, milky and gray. Dead eyes that just looked up, not seeing a thing. He looked stiff. He smelled like bodily waste too.

“Fitz was here,” Cyrus said. “He must have come right here after attacking Priest. Looking for a deal? Looking for shelter? Something went wrong. Or maybe it went right.”

“He lost his fucking mind,” Slade said.

“He lost his mind long before this,” Darrow said.

“This is going to be a big problem,” Chief Dick said.

“For you,” Cyrus said. “This will not reflect back on the club. And it will not stop us from finding what is ours and handling it internally. Find a story to tell, Chief Dick.”

Cyrus patted Chief Dick’s back. Cyrus then nodded to Slade and Darrow. They exited the cabin and each helped themselves to a breath of fresh air that didn’t stink like stale beer and fresh death.

Cyrus rubbed his chin. Then he looked right at Darrow.

“Find her,” Cyrus said. “Find Mara right now.”

Darrow nodded.

What else was he supposed to do right now?