Page 6 of Thorsten Wisely Dicey MC

I meet my brother’s gaze and he instantly dips his chin, letting me know he’s liking this plan.

“Taking out a member of the cartel will hit hard where we want it to hit. Putting the blame on Rainer, getting the cops involved and linking it to the cartel.” I slam my flat hand on the table. “This plan has my vote as well.”

Every single member present in this room slams his hand on the table.

“Man, look at us agreeing and having a plan within minutes.” Macsen grins. “Decision made…who are we going to kill tonight?”

Tonight. Shit. Yeah, we don’t really have a choice to stall when my father already put the deal in place with the cartel.

“Artemio Feliza is the one in charge and I haven’t been able to obtain his location yet. Nilo, his second in command, would be best. I have all the information on him,” Lenz says as he scrolls through his phone.

I rub two fingers against my jaw. “How about Ruben? He was at the meeting with my father and heard him accept the invitation to be at the strip club tonight.”

“Fucking perfect.” Jocko grins.

Atteo grabs his keys and says, “I’m gonna head over and check. No bike, I’m taking my SUV. You guys think where we’re gonna fuck him up and dump his body, and I’ll make sure to grab the fucker if he’s at the strip club.”

“I’m coming with you,” I tell him and I notice Falcon shoving himself off the wall.

“You need to stay put and not show your nose anywhere near that fucker,” Macsen warns.

“Agreed.” Jocko gets to his feet. “I’m gonna go with. Text the address once we have the fucker.”

Dammit. I know showing my face at the strip club will cause unnecessary attention. The door falls shut and Macsen brings up the fact we need to make a plan and it’s what we do for the next hour while one of us swings by the clubhouse to make sure my father is passed out alone in the room with no alibi.

Jocko’s text message comes in to let us know that the package is in the fridge. I shoot him a reply with the address of a property my father bought two months ago. It’s empty and remote, but most importantly? It’s perfect to leave evidence to link Rainer to the crime we’re about to commit.

There should be some emotions, right? None. None what-so-fucking-ever. Falcon doesn’t give a shit about the fucker who treats him like he doesn’t exist. So, our father reaps what he sowed, and Ruben? I know for a fact he deserves to meet his maker. The main reason none of us who are committing mutiny want the deal with the cartel is because they also deal in young women.

Ruben is the one who likes to break them before they are put in underground brothels. The fucker bragged about it during the meeting my father had with them where I needed to be present. Although the deal was about munition transport, I’m pretty sure we’ll be transporting two-legged livestock in no time at all. That right there is a hell-fucking-no.

We park our bikes a few miles away. Sucks to walk, but it’s best to be cautious. This time of night there aren’t many people up, and the place is remote. Jocko and Atteo each have a grip under Ruben’s arm and drag him along. Lenz picked the lock and holds the door open while we quickly enter the house.

“Votes on how we’re gonna end this fucker?” Elric asks.

Falcon snaps his fingers and pulls one of his knives to make a cutting move up and down over each of his eyes.

Macsen points at my brother. “He’s right, it’s gotta be Rainer’s favorite way of ending someone. Shame we don’t have one of his guns, fingerprints and shit. I guess his trademark mutilation Falcon mentioned will have to do. We also made sure Rainer is alone with no one to back him up where he’s been all night. All of it will make sure he takes the fall for the kill.”

“Wait,” I mutter and stalk to the kitchen.

“What are you doing?” I hear Macsen as he follows me.

Pointing at the refrigerator I tell him, “He’s always kept a gun wrapped in a towel inside his fridge. No matter what house he owned or stays in.”

I slide my leather gloves on and open the fridge. Right there at the bottom is a gray towel bundled up.

“Fuck. Me. The man is crazy,” Macsen mutters.

Grinning while holding up the gun I tell him, “Crazy and about to go down for all the shit he’s done in the past.”

Macsen grabs a garbage bag and gives it to me. Making a hole, I shove the barrel of the gun through it and walk back to the living room. Falcon has a glint in his eyes and flips his knife in the air, eager to use it.

“Let’s get this done,” I rumble and pull the trigger.

CHAPTER FOUR

Three days later

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