Page 80 of The Lies We Tell
Clutch grips his shoulder, then tips his chin out toward us all standing in the front yard. Niro and Halo stand on either side of me, and there is the roar of more bikes coming down the street. “We’re all with you. But we’re better when we’re organized.”
“You holding up okay, brother?” King asks.
“Those fucking supremacist trafficker scumbags have her, so no.”
King nods. “I get it. Felt the same when you told me Los Reyes had followed Clutch and Gwen last month.”
Spark tugs on his hair. “They took her to get back at me for killing one of those guys. This is my fault. She doesn’t even have a patch, not an official old lady yet.”
King shakes his head. “We’ve still got both your backs.”
“They’re fucking cowards,” I say, unable to keep it in. “Taking a woman.” The bastards need to die.
Switch agrees. “Makes no sense they didn’t come for us first.”
Clutch pulls out his phone. “We should call in reinforcements. Want me to call the Allentown chapter, see how quickly they can hit the road?”
Spark looks utterly bereft. “Sure. But it’s still too long.”
“I’ll start calling in nomads, see who’s close by,” King says, but Spark moves to take his phone.
“Cillian.” It’s all Spark says.
Shit. Cillian has men who are closer.
King and Clutch don’t look convinced.
“I know. But if he cares about his niece at all, he’ll help,” Sparks says, echoing my thoughts. “Because I can’t sit here and do nothing.”
After finding the number, King dials, but Spark takes it from him.
“It’s Spark. A trafficking group took Iris. We need manpower to find her. You’re closest ... Iris’s house. But we’re circling out now to find her. We’ll text you ...” Spark’s face turns to fury. I step toward him, ready to intervene before he does more damage. “You motherfucker. You don’t give a real shit about Iris, or you wouldn’t have played her the way you have ... I’ll kill you first, you—”
“Stop,” King shouts, grabbing the phone off him, saving me from doing it. “It’s King. We’ve got a few start points. Come in wide when you cross into Jersey. I’ll text you everything we have.”
Halo joins us. “Got the plates from a neighbor. She also called the cops, so we need to get the fuck outta here.”
I step towards Spark, King, and Clutch, but Halo stops me. “Let the club bosses deal.”
When I see Spark’s fist slam into the doorway three times, I feel the agony of it as surely as if he’d hit me.
Clutch hugs him, whispering words of comfort I can’t hear.
“Cillian and his men are checking the highways headed northeast as they make their way here. ETA within the hour,” King says.
“That fucker threatened to kill me,” Spark replies. “He can choke on shit. It was a mistake to call him.”
King grabs the back of Spark’s neck. “The only important thing now is Iris. And the best way to find her, since neither of us has her, is to work together to get her back. Working. Together.”
“Fuck. Fine. Let’s go.”
King approaches the top of Iris’s steps. “This isn’t a club vote. You don’t have to come. But I’m going with Spark.”
Clutch steps forward. “I’m riding with you.”
“Little chick’s one of us,” Switch says. “I’m in.”
I’m no longer an ATF agent. I’m no longer Ryker Miller. I’m Saint. Everything, for once, the club needs me to be. “‘God himself will kill tens of thousands if it pleases him,’ Samuel 6:19. I’m with you, brother. I’ll help you kill ’em all.”
