The Boy I Grew Up With
Page 21
I still couldn’t stop.
“CHAN!”
Three guys were on me, yanking, hauling me backward, pushing me away. They dragged me a few feet before I heard the cop cars coming.
“Fucking run, man!” My cousin screamed in my face, and I caught a glimpse of Lincoln coming out of the station, the security tapes in his hands.
We had to go. We had to go now.
“I got it.” I shoved them off me. “I got it!”
I didn’t want to spend the night in jail when the rest of the Demons would be on the prowl. They wouldn’t narc on me, wanting to get their own revenge, and no one in Roussou would talk. The security footage had been taken care of, so as long as we got out of here, we were safe.
For now.
I started for my truck, but glanced back.
Five of them were on the ground, and only one had started to sit up. There was a hospital in Frisco. They’d go there, not Fallen Crest.
As I jumped into my truck, Scratch was at the door.
“Get over.” He shoved me, not waiting, and got in where I’d been. “You’re not driving. Not after that.” He tore out of there, spitting up loose gravel. “You lunatic.”
The windows were down, and he was going more than sixty through town, but all I could do was grin at him. He was bleeding from the face, shoulders, arms, and hands, and I just laughed.
“I bet you’re as bad as me.”
He didn’t say anything, just drove down the back roads to the bar we ran together. It wasn’t until we pulled up to the back alley that his hands started shaking.
He parked and just sat there.
His head hung down. “You could’ve killed him, Chan,” he said before looking at me. “Where’d we all be then?”
A chill went down my spine.
He was right.
An image of myself, throwing fist after fist down on Richter, flashed in my head. I’d felt his cartilage break. I’d felt his teeth shatter. I knew I’d broken a cheekbone.
And I hadn’t been stopping.
Scratch was right. I could’ve killed him.
“I’m sorry.”
He didn’t reply.
A truck pulled up behind us. It was Lincoln. He and Congo were getting out, coming toward us.
They came for orders.
My cousin wasn’t in our crew, but he might as well have been. He waded into shit like this for me.
Congo opened my door and stepped back. “Moose called ahead. Scouts are setting up.”
I nodded. They’d be positioned outside the hospital, the town of Frisco, and outside Roussou too.
“I want two sent to Manny’s.”
Congo pulled his phone out, leaving to put that order through.
“Bren?” Lincoln asked.
I hesitated before shaking my head. “Her crew will protect her. She’ll be fine. We’ll give them a heads-up.”
Scratch rounded my truck, tossing my keys to Lincoln. “If we had any Demons here, they either trashed the place or took off. They’ll be back.” He shot me a dark look.
I shut the door, wincing at how tight my hands already felt. “I had to,” I called after him. “He threatened Heather and Bren. That was the second time.”
Scratch held his hands up, going to the bar. He understood, but he was annoyed.
We needed to be ready, though a quick rebuttal probably wasn’t in the works. Demons were slow, too slow at times.
I wasn’t planning on sitting back and waiting to see what Richter’s counter would be. I wanted to know before even he knew.
“Come on.” I nodded to Congo. “You and Lincoln are working tonight. Clean up and start your shift.”
Lincoln started inside.
Congo waited. “You sure?”
I nodded again. “I need to clean up, and then I have to do some work.”
“What about that con man? Moose said you wanted to find him.”
“You know where he is?”
He gestured over his shoulder. “He left the hospital yesterday. He’s in Fallen Crest, at one of the hotels there.”
“Which one?”
“The Starroad.”
Moose came out of the bar’s back door.
"You parked on the street?” I asked.
His jaw was tight, just like mine had been. “I did. There’s six Demons inside, just chillin’ like nothing happened.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Who are they?”
“Traverse and Connelly are two of them.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Their phones not working?”
“They were on them, some of the guys. But not those two.”
That wasn’t right.
My crew heard I was in trouble and came for me. Those guys should’ve done the same for Richter, unless one of two things was happening—they’d been ordered to sit and wait, retaliate if they got a chance.
Or…
I was going with the hunch I’d had as soon as I saw fear in Richter’s eyes. I headed inside.
Moose and Congo hurried to catch up. “What are you doing, Channing?”
I heard the trace of worry in Congo’s voice, and it almost changed my mind, but my gut was telling me something. I needed to see if it would work.
I didn’t know much about the Demon MC, but I did know that Traverse and Connelly were often the ones in my bar. Richter was their leader, but he mostly stayed away. And when Traverse and Connelly were here, they always had the same members with them, plus a few others here and there.
I stepped inside.
Moose and Congo were right behind me, and at my presence, Scratch and Lincoln stopped what they were doing. The regulars scattered, and the few customers that had randomly stopped in from Fallen Crest or Frisco weren’t far behind them.
Traverse and Connelly stayed put, not getting up as I approached their table.
I studied them, weighing the chances of one of them pulling a gun. As if reading my mind, Traverse flattened his hands on top of the table. Connelly did the same, and so did the others. None of them spoke. They were just waiting, sitting in their usual leather cuts, jeans, chains, and boots. They weren’t dressed any differently than the ones we’d left on the ground outside the gas station.
I locked eyes with Traverse.
“You’re speaking for the others here?”
He nodded, slowly.
His hair was long and scraggly, always pulled back in a ponytail. He had tattoos running from his ears down his neck, with a dragon tat sweeping all the way around. The head started underneath his left ear and curled to just underneath his right, with its tail in an S shape. His forehead was low and flat. His eyes sunk in, and he had a hard nose ending just over his mouth. I didn’t even want to look there. He had a few missing teeth, but all that ugliness, Traverse was cunning.
I saw it in his eyes.
“You heard?” If he had, he’d know what I was talking about.
A second slow nod. He seemed to be working hard not to alarm me. “I did.”
I studied him.
I rethought everything in a flash.
I’d let Richter get away with threatening me once. This second time, I couldn’t. I had to fight, or Richter would’ve gotten worse. A line needed to be drawn.
Traverse scratched his cheek. “Richter underestimated you today. He won’t again.”
“And you?” I waited.
“I didn’t agree with him.”
“Way I figure it, you’re either here for a planned second attack, or…” I watched him. He didn’t bat an eyelash. “Or you’re here because you’re ready for a change in leadership.”
“CHAN!”
Three guys were on me, yanking, hauling me backward, pushing me away. They dragged me a few feet before I heard the cop cars coming.
“Fucking run, man!” My cousin screamed in my face, and I caught a glimpse of Lincoln coming out of the station, the security tapes in his hands.
We had to go. We had to go now.
“I got it.” I shoved them off me. “I got it!”
I didn’t want to spend the night in jail when the rest of the Demons would be on the prowl. They wouldn’t narc on me, wanting to get their own revenge, and no one in Roussou would talk. The security footage had been taken care of, so as long as we got out of here, we were safe.
For now.
I started for my truck, but glanced back.
Five of them were on the ground, and only one had started to sit up. There was a hospital in Frisco. They’d go there, not Fallen Crest.
As I jumped into my truck, Scratch was at the door.
“Get over.” He shoved me, not waiting, and got in where I’d been. “You’re not driving. Not after that.” He tore out of there, spitting up loose gravel. “You lunatic.”
The windows were down, and he was going more than sixty through town, but all I could do was grin at him. He was bleeding from the face, shoulders, arms, and hands, and I just laughed.
“I bet you’re as bad as me.”
He didn’t say anything, just drove down the back roads to the bar we ran together. It wasn’t until we pulled up to the back alley that his hands started shaking.
He parked and just sat there.
His head hung down. “You could’ve killed him, Chan,” he said before looking at me. “Where’d we all be then?”
A chill went down my spine.
He was right.
An image of myself, throwing fist after fist down on Richter, flashed in my head. I’d felt his cartilage break. I’d felt his teeth shatter. I knew I’d broken a cheekbone.
And I hadn’t been stopping.
Scratch was right. I could’ve killed him.
“I’m sorry.”
He didn’t reply.
A truck pulled up behind us. It was Lincoln. He and Congo were getting out, coming toward us.
They came for orders.
My cousin wasn’t in our crew, but he might as well have been. He waded into shit like this for me.
Congo opened my door and stepped back. “Moose called ahead. Scouts are setting up.”
I nodded. They’d be positioned outside the hospital, the town of Frisco, and outside Roussou too.
“I want two sent to Manny’s.”
Congo pulled his phone out, leaving to put that order through.
“Bren?” Lincoln asked.
I hesitated before shaking my head. “Her crew will protect her. She’ll be fine. We’ll give them a heads-up.”
Scratch rounded my truck, tossing my keys to Lincoln. “If we had any Demons here, they either trashed the place or took off. They’ll be back.” He shot me a dark look.
I shut the door, wincing at how tight my hands already felt. “I had to,” I called after him. “He threatened Heather and Bren. That was the second time.”
Scratch held his hands up, going to the bar. He understood, but he was annoyed.
We needed to be ready, though a quick rebuttal probably wasn’t in the works. Demons were slow, too slow at times.
I wasn’t planning on sitting back and waiting to see what Richter’s counter would be. I wanted to know before even he knew.
“Come on.” I nodded to Congo. “You and Lincoln are working tonight. Clean up and start your shift.”
Lincoln started inside.
Congo waited. “You sure?”
I nodded again. “I need to clean up, and then I have to do some work.”
“What about that con man? Moose said you wanted to find him.”
“You know where he is?”
He gestured over his shoulder. “He left the hospital yesterday. He’s in Fallen Crest, at one of the hotels there.”
“Which one?”
“The Starroad.”
Moose came out of the bar’s back door.
"You parked on the street?” I asked.
His jaw was tight, just like mine had been. “I did. There’s six Demons inside, just chillin’ like nothing happened.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Who are they?”
“Traverse and Connelly are two of them.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Their phones not working?”
“They were on them, some of the guys. But not those two.”
That wasn’t right.
My crew heard I was in trouble and came for me. Those guys should’ve done the same for Richter, unless one of two things was happening—they’d been ordered to sit and wait, retaliate if they got a chance.
Or…
I was going with the hunch I’d had as soon as I saw fear in Richter’s eyes. I headed inside.
Moose and Congo hurried to catch up. “What are you doing, Channing?”
I heard the trace of worry in Congo’s voice, and it almost changed my mind, but my gut was telling me something. I needed to see if it would work.
I didn’t know much about the Demon MC, but I did know that Traverse and Connelly were often the ones in my bar. Richter was their leader, but he mostly stayed away. And when Traverse and Connelly were here, they always had the same members with them, plus a few others here and there.
I stepped inside.
Moose and Congo were right behind me, and at my presence, Scratch and Lincoln stopped what they were doing. The regulars scattered, and the few customers that had randomly stopped in from Fallen Crest or Frisco weren’t far behind them.
Traverse and Connelly stayed put, not getting up as I approached their table.
I studied them, weighing the chances of one of them pulling a gun. As if reading my mind, Traverse flattened his hands on top of the table. Connelly did the same, and so did the others. None of them spoke. They were just waiting, sitting in their usual leather cuts, jeans, chains, and boots. They weren’t dressed any differently than the ones we’d left on the ground outside the gas station.
I locked eyes with Traverse.
“You’re speaking for the others here?”
He nodded, slowly.
His hair was long and scraggly, always pulled back in a ponytail. He had tattoos running from his ears down his neck, with a dragon tat sweeping all the way around. The head started underneath his left ear and curled to just underneath his right, with its tail in an S shape. His forehead was low and flat. His eyes sunk in, and he had a hard nose ending just over his mouth. I didn’t even want to look there. He had a few missing teeth, but all that ugliness, Traverse was cunning.
I saw it in his eyes.
“You heard?” If he had, he’d know what I was talking about.
A second slow nod. He seemed to be working hard not to alarm me. “I did.”
I studied him.
I rethought everything in a flash.
I’d let Richter get away with threatening me once. This second time, I couldn’t. I had to fight, or Richter would’ve gotten worse. A line needed to be drawn.
Traverse scratched his cheek. “Richter underestimated you today. He won’t again.”
“And you?” I waited.
“I didn’t agree with him.”
“Way I figure it, you’re either here for a planned second attack, or…” I watched him. He didn’t bat an eyelash. “Or you’re here because you’re ready for a change in leadership.”
