Page 43 of Kings Fear No One
It’s the first time I’m afforded a clear view of him, bathed in light.
I gasp at the blood and bruises I discover.
Logan’s got a bloodied lip. His right cheek’s more swollen than usual. A couple bruises color his torso.
He’s been in a fight.
12
LOGAN
“If you shitheads don’t shut the fuck up, I’m coming over there to cram my boot up your ass. Got it?” growls Mudd at the barroom full of Steel Kings. When the buzz around the room dies out, he nods at Silver. “All yours, Chief.”
Silver can barely keep from grinning. He shakes his head and redirects his attention to the rest of the club.
Today’s our first real meeting since our crackdown at the Chosen Saints compound. We’ve got to plan out our next moves.
There’s still business to finish.
Several of the saints escaped that night, including the Leader.
After more recon work, we’ve learned of another compound in the area that we’ll be invading soon. But first we’ve got to hash out the details.
I sit at the front of the room along with Mace, Cash, and Tito. I’ve received plenty of curious stares and whispers from members who have been absent the past few weeks. The club hasn’t officially been briefed on my story.
I’ve made it clear to Silver and Mace I want to keep it that way.
It’s none of their fucking business where I’ve been and what I’ve been up to.
They’re not owed the details. That’s for me and the Leader to settle when I put him six feet under.
“Where to even start?” Silver asks, peering around the room. “Word travels fast. Contrary to popular belief, bikers are bigger gossip queens than most old ladies. I know most of you have already heard through word of mouth or seen it for yourself. Ghost’s back.”
Everybody seated in the bar takes the opportunity for a glance at me. Even the barmaids have slowed up delivering pints and peanuts and cast me curious looks.
I ignore them all, staring at an indiscriminate point in the distance.
“Ghost has been to hell and back. Which means he’s in no mood to deal with your bullshit. Keep it away from him,” Silver explains. His lecturing tone has clearly been perfected over time. Probably all the scolding he’s done with his own kids. “We’ve got no shortage of problems. Which is what today’s meetings about.”
Johnny Flanagan thrusts his arm in the air. “I’ve got a question.”
I can practically feel Mace’s scowl from my right. The two of them have never gotten along. They barely had chin hairs and were going at it as kids. Fast forward almost twenty years later, nothing’s changed.
I’m no fan of Flanagan either considering he’s a shit stirrer.
“What is your question, Flanagan?” Silver asks.
“If the rumors are true, you raided the compound of that cult. The one that’s been in the news.”
“I’m not the smartest guy around, but I didn’t hear a question, Flanny,” Ozzie points out, earning several chuckles around the room.
Flanagan shakes his stringy, shoulder-length hair out of his face. “My question is, what’s that got to do with us? Why are we getting involved?”
“If you’ve heard the rumors,” Mace snaps, sitting forward, “then you’ve heard why. You know exactly what the fuck we were doing raiding them.”
“That doesn’t answer my question,” Flanagan says.
“Interrupt the meeting again with a stupid question like that and I’ll answer it with my fist.”
