Page 160 of Burning Ember
This right here is why Goose is an asset. As an ex-Ranger, he sees complex problems from more angles than the average man. Thinks on a higher level than the rest of us.
“If it’s Pappy, he’s been planning this for a while,” Taz growls.
Griz curses and starts coughing. When the fit’s done, he points at T. “Don’t go shootin’ your mouth off. I get where Goose is comin’ from. He’s layin’ it out for us. But we can’t point the finger and go jumpin’ head first into a war with the Greenbacks, without fuckin’ proof. We got nothin’ that ties this shit to them, or anyone else.”
“Did Ramble say anything else?”
Griz sits back with a frown and shakes his head.
“You really don’t think he did this?” Taz, ever the mouth, can’t let it lie.
“You younger fucker’s just don’t get it. So let me explain it to you. Cap saved Pappy and Smoke from a Viet Cong jungle camp. He’s the only reason they made it out of Nam alive. If it wasn’t for Cap, the best those two could have hoped for was dyin’ or rottin’ for years like me in the Hanoi Hilton. And it wasn’t no fuckin’ picnic boys. It wasn’t anything like the kind of war you’ve seen.” Griz motions to Dozer, Edge, Bodie, and Goose. “I lived in my own filth for more days than I care to say. I can’t ever look at rope again without throwin’ the fuck up.”
He eyeballs Taz. “They both owe Cap their lives, and they know it. I can tell you right now, Pappy didn’t give the order to have Cap taken out,” Griz states, and then proceeds to say, “Cap would laugh in your fuckin’ face for even thinkin’ it.”
“Then maybe another GB went behind his back.”
“Now that’s possible. He’s spread thin and he’s got more members than he knows what to do with.”
“So maybe he caught wind of it and he’s tryin’ to get rid of the evidence. Either way that still fuckin’ makes the GBs guilty and—”
Griz half stands and leans over the table toward Taz. “Boy, I’ve had about enough outta you.”
Edge puts his hand on Taz, which Taz quickly throws off in a huff.
Griz sits back down.
“If it’s this Henry guy they’re lookin’ for, how’d they catch wind of him?” Goose asks.
“Either they tapped the same source we got it from or someone’s talkin’.”
Taz stares straight across the table at Griz.
Griz growls and mutters how he’s gonna kick Taz’s punk tattooed ass.
I slap Griz’s back. “No one is questionin’ your loyalty. But there is a little too much club business and other shit bein’ whispered in ears outside of this room. Someone’s got flappy lips. Plus, we got a guy fillin’ us in on their movements. Not a big leap to think they’ve probably got someone here doin’ the same. Not sayin’ it’s a brother, but we gotta stop talkin’ about business outside of the Chapel.”
Everyone nods in agreement, some brothers rap their knuckles on the table.
Edge sighs. “The last thing we need right now is doubt and speculation circlin’ in the club. I’ve been back a day and already I can see this club’s on shaky ground. Look at us. At each other’s throats. Fightin’ brothers. Questionin’ a founder like he’s some prospect.” He spears Taz with a glare. “Whoever took Cap down, wanted to fuck with the club. They’ve done that. We’re not gonna let ’em crowbar our asses apart.”
Goose chin lifts. “Edge is right. And our focus needs to be on figurin’ out who’s leadin’ this motherfuckin’ train, protectin’ Cap, and pullin’ our shit together. Once that’s done, we have a sit down with Pappy and Smoke, on their turf if that’s what it’s gonna take. We can go under the pretense we want more details about a GB chapter here and what that means for us all. But we subtly let it slip we got a witness we’re interrogating and see if Pappy reacts, or ask for their help in findin’ this Henry guy and see if they really go lookin’. Either way it’ll put Smoke on notice, and tell us if Pappy knows somethin’. Because you can bet your ass if he knows about it, he’s gonna react. No finger pointing necessary.”
“So first order of business is we vote. We figure out who sits at the helm,” Dozer affirms and gets nods from everyone.
“Yeah, we do. But before we do. I got somethin’ to say,” Edge states. But he doesn’t move, and he sits and stares at the table. His fists, which are both on the top of the table are bone white. He’s silent for so long, Dozer nudges him and whispers, “E.”
The chapel’s dead silent and brothers start throwing each other what-the-fuck glances. Then Edge blinks and slowly stands. He grabs the collar of his cut and slowly starts to remove it. Now what-the-fuck-is-he-doing flares through every brothers’ eyes.
Even Dozer voices it. “Edge, what the fuck are you doin’?”
Edge removes his cut and respectfully lays it on the table.
Is he saying he’s out?
Jesus. No. Fuck. No.
“Brother,” I rasp. “Don’t.”
