Page 36 of DOG Part 2
2
Kane
Iclosedthe door halfway behind me, not making much of an attempt to hide what had been happening inside the bedroom. I’d been president of the Rugged Angels for over six months, and before me that position had been held by Jake Banner for almost ten years. He’d seen and done just about anything you could see and do as president of a one percenter motorcycle gang. Multiple naked chicks in the president’s bedroom was the least surprising occurrence out there. Hell, it was almost expected. As much as chicks loved bikers, they loved the presidents of bike clubs twice as much. The adoration that came along with being the Rugged Angels president was one of the more fun perks the job had to offer.
“Banner,” I nodded. “Everything all right?”
It was an unnecessary question. The look on Banner’s face said that things were not all right. Not at all. He was a burly man, stocky with long, silver hair and the fortitude of a god. I’d seen him knock out two men with his bare hands in a matter of seconds, as well as take a bullet to his shoulder and walk around like nothing had happened. It took a lot to shake a man like that.
Banner was so pale that I had to put my hand up on the door frame to prepare myself for his news. Whatever was coming next was sure to be a blow, and there were already a dozen possibilities streaking across my mind, mostly involving death and the burning down of nightclubs the gang depended on for its livelihood. There were several motorcycle clubs spread out across the country that had grudges against us, and resentment between gangs could go on for years before it cooled.
“It’s Lisa,” he answered, the words coming out slightly garbled.
“Your ex-wife?”
He nodded gruffly. “She’s been killed.”
An iron hand clutched at my gut. So there went the other shoe that had been threatening to drop all week long.
Banner shook his head, his teeth grating together. “The sons of bitches made it look like a car accident, but I know it wasn’t. She was run off the road.”
I exhaled heavily. “Damn. Banner…I’m…I’m so sorry, brother.”
He nodded. “It was Arroyos Bandidos.”
“Arroyos Bandidos?” I asked slowly, rolling the name around on my tongue. They were a rival gang two towns over, and even though their numbers had been dwindling in recent years they were a fierce group. They were not people you would want as enemies, and for that reason, we opted to stay out of each other’s way. “You know for sure?”
He gave me the steely gaze that he had become known for during his decade as club president. “Yes. There was a witness. One of our Rugged Angel members saw it for himself.” He exhaled heavily before going on. “There’s no doubt they meant for Dwayne to see. They’re sending us a message.”
The last sentence came out forcefully, and he slapped a fist into the palm of his other hand for effect. He looked about ready to punch in a wall, and he needed to be calmed down before we needed some serious damage control on our end.
“All right,” I nodded. His assurance that the Arroyos Bandidos were to blame was enough for me. “What message are they trying to give us?”
“That’s what I’m working on figuring out.”
“Give me a minute and I’ll meet you downstairs in the office. We’ll have a drink and figure this out. Banner, they’re not going to get away with this.”
I turned back into the room to the girls, who were half dressed on the bed and talking in low voices.
“Arroyos Bandidos is that gang outside the city,” Brunette was whispering to Blondie as she pulled her sequined top over her head.
“How many motorcycle gangs are there?” Blondie asked, sitting on her knees with her bra and panties, and nothing else.
I cleared my throat and they whipped their heads around. “Ladies, I’m afraid I have some business to attend to. It’s been fun. Now get on home.”
They both hopped off the bed and scurried to grab the rest of their clothes. As they passed by, Blondie trailed her fingertips across my chest.
“I left my number on the bedside table,” she purred.
I gave her a slight smile in return. I would probably take her up on that offer. Or not. I’d slept with somewhere around half of the available women who hung around the Rugged Angels, but there was always an influx of them, so I wasn’t anywhere close to worried about the well running dry. I also didn’t often make it a habit of repeating hookups, no matter how hot my conquests were. I had a few regular girls, but they too got predictable.
I preferred to keep things exciting.
And unattached.
“I’ll call you a cab,” I told her, and followed them into the hall and shut the door securely behind myself.
Blondie was a curious one. She stopped to take in some of the many photographs and memorabilia from the past six decades, laid out nicely along the hallway walls. The Rugged Angels was one of the oldest motorcycle clubs around, and we prided ourselves on our precise record keeping. It was one of two things we were most proud of, the second one being that almost everyone in the club was ex-military.
