Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 74390 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74390 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
“I had my reasons.”
“Yeah, and like I said, they were fucked up.”
“Thanks for the support, brother.” I shook my head and continued towards the office. “We’ve got bigger things to deal with than my ass in a sling, don’t ya think?”
He didn’t respond.
But then again, I didn’t expect him to.
Rooster had good intentions, but the fact that I had a kid wasn’t going to be something that I could just drop in my ol’ man’s lap. I’d have to break it down and explain how things played out; otherwise, he’d never be able to forgive me or Londyn for missing out on the past four years of his grandson’s life.
When we got to Maverick’s office, I had to do a double-take. That room had always been my father's, and it was tough to picture anyone but him sitting behind that desk. But Maverick had claimed that spot, and it was well deserved. He’d proven himself time and time again, and we all knew he would handle whatever problems came his way—including this one.
I inhaled a deep breath, then tapped on the door and walked inside.
Maverick was at his desk reading a message on his cellphone. When he looked up and saw that it was me and Rooster coming through the door, he leaned back in his chair and said, “Morning.”
“Morning, Prez.” I stepped up to the desk and told him, “I think we might have a situation.”
“Does it have something to do with the two Camaros that have been lurking around town?”
“How’d you know about that?”
“I just got a call from Joelle,” Maverick answered. “Two guys just stopped by Puckett’s and were asking questions about us.”
“What kind of questions?”
“Wanted to know what we were into and where they could find the clubhouse.”
Joelle was one of the bartenders and Guardrail’s youngest daughter. She was a smart girl who knew how to play the game without crossing any lines. I knew she wouldn’t tell them anything about us. But I didn’t know what she’d found out about them, so I asked, “Was she able to get anything out of ‘em?”
“Not much. They were pretty tight-lipped, but she said they had the gangbanger look. Both were tall and were wearing dark clothing. One of them had a scorpion tattoo on his hand, and the other had one on his neck. She also said they have cameras covering the parking lot. Hopefully, we can use them to find their license plate numbers.”
“Bones is working on it now.”
I took out my phone and was just about to message him when it started ringing in my hand. I accepted the call, and before I could answer, Bones announced, “I got ‘em.”
“We’re on our way down.” I hung up and shoved my phone back in my pocket. “He’s got ‘em.”
“Already?” Rooster asked, sounding surprised.
“It’s Bones. What did you expect?”
Maverick followed me and Rooster as we made our way back down the hall. As soon as we walked into the computer room, Bones offered Maverick a stack of papers and announced, “The red Camaro is registered to Keshawn Michaels. He’s got quite a rap sheet. Distribution and armed robbery are just the start. His buddy, Franklin Mosier, has more of the same, including rape and domestic assault.”
“Any gang involvement?”
“I’m still working on that, but they both have scorpion tattoos, which led me to believe they’re members of the East-end Stingers.”
The Stingers were one of the larger gangs in Seattle. They were one of the more dangerous ones, too. I didn’t like the idea of them poking around our town, much less following our boys. “We need to deal with this before it gets out of hand.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” Maverick turned to Bones as he asked, “Any idea where these guys are now?”
“I got no idea how long they’ll be there, but when we last checked Puckett’s cameras, I could see them parked across the street at the Station, and they seemed to be the only ones there.”
“Good,” Maverick answered, already making his way to the door. “Time to see what these assholes are up to.”
As we walked out of the clubhouse, I couldn’t help but be a little pumped. We’d done a couple of runs and whatnot, but it had been a minute since we had any real action. And after an intense weekend, I needed to blow off some steam.
Torch and Chains were the first to pull out, with me, Rooster, and Maverick following close behind. The Station was an old sports bar, but unlike the others in town, it was rundown and rarely ever open. I had no idea what these guys were doing there, but we were about to find out.
When we got close, Torch signaled us to follow him over to Puckett’s. We parked and then made our way across the street. We didn’t want to draw any unwanted attention, so we played it cool, acting like we were actually going into the old shithole for a drink. But as soon as we got close to the front door, gunfire erupted, and bullets started splintering through the old wood.