Page 55 of Dutch

"I'm already at rock bottom if I lose you, so I have to make things right. Trust what I'm getting ready to do won't take long, and I'll be back, and we can talk. Eat that sandwich."

I exited the room, headed downstairs to the wooden cabinet in the living room, and tapped in the combination. Inside, my gear, from a life I tried to leave behind but could never fully escape, waited.

I was ready to fuck some shit up by any means necessary. I strapped my Kevlar vest on. "I'm getting too old for this shit," I grumbled. I grabbed my cut and zipped it up. I was about to end this shit one way or another.

I stepped outside, swung my leg over my bike, kicked up the stand, and peeled out. The wind whipped past me as I made my way to the meeting spot.

My eyes scannedthe back of the abandoned warehouse as I cut the engine and dismounted my Harley. Saint's intel was spot on, and they swooped that nigga up like he owed rent.

My crew was already here with their bikes, forming a semi-circle around a figure chained up and hanging like a hammock between four motorcycles. Darian.

He was going to fuck around and find out today.

"Yo, Prez, we got him trussed up like you instructed. Just say the word, and we'll split him like a hog."

I gave a curt nod. I was in tunnel vision as I approached Darian. Though he was bloody and bruised, a smirk played on his lips. I wanted to wipe it off with my fist.

"Well, if it ain't the big bad wolf himself coming to huff and puff," Darian taunted.

I ignored his taunt and addressed my crew. "Keep those chains tight, any funny business, light his ass up!" I instructed.

Additional crew members guarded the perimeter of the property, their grips tight on their pieces.

Good, I wanted him to sweat. The games were over.

I strode closer to him with measured control. I couldn't let him know how much I wanted to rip him apart for what he'd done to Vassar, Malakai, and Makari.

"Are you going to sing or scream?" I questioned, my tone dangerously low.

Darian's eyes darted around as he squirmed. "You're all smoke and mirrors. You can't touch me! I got people!" he spat.

I let out a harsh laugh and crossed my arms. "Really? Because from where I'm standing, you appear to be pretty damn touchable."

I nodded to Rico. He revved his engine and rolled up a bit, stretching Darian’s arms tight. Fear flickered in Darian's eyes.

"Now, let's talk about what you did to my people."

I pulled the ledger from Darian's flannel shirt pocket and flipped through the pages. "This here documents your whole operation, every payment and dirty deal you've made. And guess what? I don't give a shit about most of this." I began ripping out pages. "What I do care about is what you did to my loved ones. Vassar, Malakai, and Makari. You know I tried to walk away and mind my business, but you wouldn't stop fucking with me, and since you seem to think you're untouchable?—"

"That ledger doesn't prove shit," Darian cut in, trying to maintain the smug look on his face.

"Oh, but it does. Those 'people' you mentioned are going down on your behalf with this information." I smiled coldly and dangerously. "The rest?" I pulled out my lighter and flicked it open. "Let's just say it's going to keep the MC squeaky clean."

I dropped the ledger on the ground and gathered the pages I'd pulled out, setting them on fire. Darian flinched as the hot pages dropped on his face, burning him.

Saint approached me. "We got a problem, boss."

I turned around to see Makari coming from the front of the warehouse.

"Damn, she's not supposed to be here," I responded.

"What the hell, Dutch?" Makari yelled.

"What are you doing here?" I questioned, moving in her direction.

As I reached her, she reached into my pocket and pulled out her earbuds. "I tracked you, fearing you'd do something stupid."

She tried to push past me, but I grabbed her arm. "This ain't your business. You shouldn't be here.

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