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Chapter Two

Summerville Dax

B ackground checks. That’s why the entire Griffin's Beach charter sits in the Summerville Chapel. Dax finds the whole process of looking over his own club members tedious and a waste of time, but thankfully, Jennings Molloy suggested the Black Valley crew call in for the meeting. It’s already crowded and stuffy enough in this one little room full of men in leather and sweat.

They better make it quick. If not, they all may pass out from heat exhaustion in the poorly ventilated room. Times like this oddly bring his mind to Dani. Most times bring Dax’s mind to his dead wife, but especially like this. They’d been stuck in a stuffy cabin hiding out from the cops once, and they’d made good use of the space. Made it even hotter and stuffier. God, he misses her.

“So, what'd you find?” Dax asks the original President. “I can't imagine you'd all haul your asses out here if nothing was found.”

Jennings stares at him with his long, brown hair from across the table. He nods towards a muscular man with a shaved head sporting tattoos of skulls. Dax finds it strange to have skulls tattooed on a skull, but it's not his skin.

“Brock?” Jennings asks.

Brock Bradshaw. The resident tech wizard and man in charge of most of their information and electronic needs. Besides Brock, Dax knows the club has an outside man to help. A private investigator who used to be a police officer. It still feels questionable to have a relationship with someone from the right side of the law, even if he no longer works for the 'good guys.'

“As you know, after all the shit that happened with Black Valley, we've done extensive background checks on all of your men.”

Troy Savage was a prospect in Black Valley who belonged to the Savage Slashers. He helped kidnap and torture Lex as well as three other women of the club.

Unlike Black Valley, I have my shit together. I know my men. Whatever they think they found is bullshit.

Motion along the wall gets Dax's attention, and he looks at Mickey Fields. The man is nothing short of silent, and sometimes Dax forgets he's even a member. The way he presses himself against the wall as though he might become one with it looks more than a little suspicious.

Jennings notices, too, because he says, “You must be Mickey.”

“Yes, sir,” Mickey says, a slight drawl sounding odd to Dax. Maybe he doesn’t know everyone as well as he thinks.

“Do you want to tell everyone what we found, or do you want us to?” Brock asks.

Dax looks at his Vice President, Graham Finnegan, and he's relieved to see the man looks as confused as Dax feels. Finnegan shakes his head and asks, “What did you find?”

Sighing, Mickey looks at the ground. “Mickey Fields isn't my real name.”

“Say what?”

“It's Jason Dunlap,” he says. “Here's the deal, okay? I’m not a plant, and I'm not trying to harm anyone. I'm here for my own safety. Kind of like my own witness protection.”

Jamie “Mac” McBride shakes his head from Dax's right. The Sergeant at Arms looks like a fish as he opens his mouth and closes it a few times before he finds the words he searches for. “What-what are you hiding from?”

“I'm... well-educated. Like, I'm technically a doctor. I have a PhD in chemistry. I contracted with the military, and somehow, my name got passed along to a mobster. Have you heard of Victor Moreno?”

Jennings laughs. “You pissed off Moreno?”

“Kind of. He wanted specific explosives to take out a competitor as well as Feds closing in on him under RICO. What he asked felt more like a terrorist attack, and I refused. Besides, I never got into that line of work to blow up people.”

“Why not go to the military you were working with?” Finnegan asks with a shrug that says idiot .

Swallowing, he looks at the ground. “They're the ones who gave Moreno my name. They were in his pocket. They would have benefited from the perceived attack, and I just... it didn't feel right.”

“So, did you end up creating anything for him?” Brock asks.

Shaking his redhead, he sighs. “No, and when I said no, he threatened me. Then word got around to his competitor what Moreno was planning. The guy came to me offering more than Moreno had for something similar. But the real fun came when the cops got involved.”

“They wanted a bomb, too?” Jennings asks, obvious doubt in his voice.

“No, but each side had cops in their pockets. So I had cops trying to convince me either way, and I knew I had to leave if I had any hope of staying alive. And the only way to leave was to die.”

“You faked your death,” Brock says as a statement rather than a question.

Why the fuck don’t they just say what we need to know? We’d be out of here a hell of a lot quicker.

Mickey nods. “If you look up Jason Dunlap, you're going to find that he went to Louisiana to visit family. While he was there, he drowned and was eaten by alligators. On my way out this way, I found an abandoned hospital and combed through the records left behind. That's when I found Mickey Fields. He was the first guy I found who was around my age, dead, and wasn't a lunatic.”

“Jesus,” Brock says and chuckles. “Assuming this is all true, that's a fucked-up story.”

His hands lift in the air. “I swear to God, it's all true. I fucking lost everything, but when I found the club, I saw a way to hide while staying protected. Moreno recently started coming to Summerville, thanks to his daughter going to school near here, but I don't think he's recognized me. Doubt he's looking for a dead man.”

Dax sighs. “Brock, if you look up Jason Dunlap and find nothing, I say we keep Mickey. Jason. Fuck, what do we call you now?”

“This is going to get confusing,” Mac says.

“Hey, you never know when someone who can make bombs will come in handy. But I don't want anything to look like a terrorist attack, so we should be cool.”

Mickey doesn't look as comfortable as Dax expects, but he doesn't really care. Since Dani's death, it takes a lot for him to feel much of anything. Instead, he's just numb and going through the motions.

“And if I find something that could affect us?” Brock asks.

“Fuck him. He's dead then.”

Jennings looks around and shrugs while Mickey stares with wide, scared eyes. “Works for us.”

“Did you find anything else on anyone?”

“Nothing concerning. Some were rather impressive, though,” Brock says. “Who's Venom?”

A man with platinum blonde curls gelled back on his head raises a hand. “Me.”

“Damn.”

He gives a small smirk, and even though Dax knows what the man is capable of, he also knows Venom doesn't take as much pleasure in it like everyone assumes. There's something different about Venom, but he has come in clutch. Especially as they got out of drugs last year before becoming part of the Drifters.

“Thanks,” Venom says.

“Did you really set a man on fire before kicking him into a propane tank?” Brock asks.

Dax's eyes widen. He hasn't heard this story. “What?”

“My sister's boyfriend turned drug dealer and pimp. She wanted to get help, and he shot her up and almost killed her. So I lit his ass on fire and kicked him into a propane tank that was just fumes. More deadly than when it's full, and he ended up with too many pieces to put back together.”

Colt Nichols, one of the two newest Summerville transfers, drops his jaw. His tan skin pulls tightly against his T-shirt, and his hair is pulled up into a bun at the top of his head. “And you're out of prison?”

“Only got probation. The asshole was wanted for three dozen other offenses, including murder. I saved the county a shit ton of money by ending his miserable life. Plus, he'd almost killed my sister, so there was some sympathy.”

“You're nuts,” Psycho's voice calls through the speakerphone on the table. “I like you.”

Dax jumps, forgetting they had Black Valley on the line. “Shit, I about pissed myself.”

“We're sneaky,” Waylon, the Vice President, says.

“No shit.”

“Can we get out of this fucking tiny ass room now?” Finnegan asks, a bead of sweat sliding down his temple. “I need a drink.”

Nodding, Dax bangs the gavel on the table. “Let's go drink, boys.”

As they filter out of the room, the Griffin's Beach members all hurry to someone in the main area, and Dax knows Lex showed up. She and Colt transferred from Griffin's Beach, and there is a wide love net for the curly blonde.

“Lex!” Taylor “Shep” Shepherd calls as he pulls her into a hug and off the ground. “Heidi's going to be so pissed when she hears I got to see you.”

Something about Lex feels off, and Dax regards her with curious eyes. Everyone else notices it, too, and he sees two phones in her hands. “What's going on, Lex?”

“I, uh, borrowed a phone, Brock,” she says. “From your bag.”

“Of course, you can tell the difference between the bikes,” Marnie says.

A sneer gets cast to the younger woman, and it catches everyone by surprise. Lex hasn't had an issue with anyone in the club, but clearly, something happened between the women. If Dax had a care, he might ask.

“Uh, well, I'm waiting on a call back, and then I can tell you for sure. But are you all going to be sticking around here?” she asks.

Venom walks up to her, and Dax feels like he’s missed something big at the friendly nature between the two. “Lex?”

“Who needs to stay?” Jennings asks.

“Possibly all of you,” she says and looks at the largest man in the room, Undertaker. “Especially you.”

The deep voice booms. “Are we hurting people?”

“If I'm right, you're going to be killing people.”

This interests Dax. The only thing he's found any joy in lately is inflicting pain upon others who deserve it. “I think we should maybe stay sober, boys.”

“Lex?” Colt asks.

“Not yet,” she says and stares at the phone as though willing it to ring as her leg bounces.

This woman never seems nervous. Or anxious. Horny, sure, they've all seen it. And her reaction to whatever it is that's happened has many of the Griffin's Beach men on edge in turn. Dax has heard rumors about Lex, but he might actually get to see it firsthand.