Page 65 of Bear

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Bear

Ablack van pulls upto the meet, and the guy with the mohawk steps out and heads right for us. We all train our guns on him, but the fucker doesn’t even bat an eyelid. I can’t decide if he’s just fucking dense or crazy. He reaches for his gun, and we all go on red alert.

“Don’ shoot.” His Cajun accent is so thick, at first, I think he’s putting it on. Then I remember how his father screamed and begged for his life in a similar tongue. Voodoo places his pistol on the ground and sweeps it out of the way with his foot. “We’re not here to fuck shit up.”

“Little late for that, isn’t it?” Poe calls.

“Me and my buddy Hawk here were just following orders. I’m sure you know what dat’s like?”

“You killed a family member,” Chaos says.

“And you killed one of mine. We didn’t come ’ere to argue with y’all; we came bearing gifts.”

“Gifts?”

Voodoo nods and Hawk moves to the van.

I step forward and press my .45 against this douchebag’s temple. “Not so fuckin’ fast, asshole.” I glance at Prez. “Just say the word.”

“Prospect,” Chaos barks at Crow, tilting his chin toward the van. “Go take a look inside the van.”

Crow walks toward the vehicle as if he’s walking to meet the reaper. I can’t say I fucking blame him. That van could contain anything.

Hawk opens the doors and Crow peers in and says, “They’re all tied up.”

“Who?” Chaos asks.

“The rest of our brothers. The one’s we could do without, anyway.” Voodoo tilts his chin in my direction. “Your man dere already got my pops.”

“He killed my ol’ lady’s brother,” I say through my teeth.

“I’m not interested in retaliation. You did me a favor, brother.”

“I’m not your fucking brother.”

Voodoo smiles. “Either way, my pops and de rest of his crew have been a pain in my ass since de day I patched in. We been talking about a takeover for a long time; it was just never the right time. Hawk and I didn’t want to come here. We’re not looking for any more trouble. Just wanna go home.”

“My men wanted that too,” Anvil says.

Voodoo nods. “I get dat, I really do. But I just handed you half my club.”

“And what about the other half?” Chaos asks. “Where are they?”

“Blackwater Bayou, where dey’re stayin’, and where Hawk and I are headed. So, you already killed my father; we’re handing over all of the members we could do without. I’d call dhat even, wouldn’t you?”

Chaos moves forward and pulls the trigger, unloading a clip into the men in the van. Voodoo and Hawk don’t even flinch. “Now we’re even.”

Voodoo nods to Hawk, who leans into the truck—I guess to make sure none of those cunts are breathing.

“You take them bodies back to the Bayou, feed ’em to the gators. I don’t want them being dug up by the feds in my backyard,” Chaos says.

“Or mine,” Anvil says.

“Understood.”

“We see you or White Nation in our territory again, we won’t hesitate to fuckin’ kill you,” Chaos says.

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