But before I could go—or pull a gargantuan mutiny—I needed to make sure Ronn would pay for what he had done to Manny. Fucker’d killed my best friend. He had actually killed my best friend. That. Does. Not. Fly.
Aw, fuck. Manny. I missed him like mad. Great guy, great friend. Totally stand-up. The motherfucker had your back. The brother I could always count on, the guy who made you laugh so hard your gut hurt. Damn. Damn, damn, damn. He was six feet under, now.
And justice needed serving.
I still didn’t know the full story. But I did know this much: Joey Ronn had directly caused Manny’s death and then made sure all of us in Storm knew it, in order to “keep us in line” and show him “proper respect.” So, without question, I knew enough to be sure that Ronn had to go down, and go down hard.
My only hesitation came from the question of who had actually pulled the trigger: was it Ronn himself, or was it one of our MC brothers, at Ronn’s order? If it was a brother, things got really, really complicated, because then I would be going directly against my own. To actively work against the MC brotherhood was cause for an internal takedown. And I did not want my brotherhood after me; that’s a sure death sentence, and I had no death wish.
The thing was, ever since Clav had gotten us tied in to serving as Ronn’s freakin’ security service, it was like Storm was no longer a brotherhood. We had lost our purpose, and were basically just serving as muscle and protection to a sleazy porn king. Between running security at Club Hardcore and protecting Ronn’s shiny ass from the freakin’ mafia and cops and feds for all his illicit porno dealings, the MC barely ever had any time for our own anymore. No more “church” meetings (where we used to conference at least weekly, usually more, to hash out business and whatever issues might come up); no more parties, not even hanging out on the Storm compound. Fuck, we hadn’t even had a good ride together in ages. It was like we’d just been transferred into Ronn’s titty bar and porno world, and demoted to muscle without brains.
It was demoralizing, at best. And I, for one, had had it.
The fact that, on top of all that shit, Ronn had actually murdered Manny Fidel—one of our own, and one of the best—without retribution?—No one was saying shit. There was no church meeting, no one even seemed upset, or questioned the rightness… It blew my mind. It didn’t make any sense, but since no one was talking, I felt like I had to bite my tongue and bide my time, figure it out, be smart about it.
There was something darker going on, some reason Pres had gotten us tied in with this shit, but I didn’t know what it was, and I’d bet very few of my brothers (if any) knew, either. We were all kinda wandering in the dark, and I was pretty sure I wasn’t the only one deeply concerned about it.
On top of that, Ronn also had us informing on each other, and it was impossible at this point to be able to figure out who to trust. It was like a fucking Nazi barracks.
So my only choices were to figure out if there were any brothers I could trust, build up a secret coalition, and pull out a full-blown mutiny, or figure out how to buy my exit and bolt.
But either way, I was gonna take Ronn down. And out. Sure as fuckin’ shit.
Once I got my thoughts in order and had my focus back, I flipped the switch and left the gents’, heading back down into the club.
By the time I had made my way into the main room, there was no sign of Fielding, nor of the little ruckus he had caused. Couldn’t even see any of his blood by the booth where it had flown. I looked around for Sienna, wanting to make eye contact with her, check she was okay, but no sign of her either.
Feeling a light tap on the back of my left shoulder, I swung around, only to find Asia, one of the other dancers, looking up at me with a mixture of boldness and trepidation, like she was crossing a line she knew she shouldn’t have but was gonna do it anyway.
“She’s gone, too. I don’t know what game you’re playing, but you should leave her out of it. She doesn’t need your kind of trouble. I want you to promise me you’ll stay away from her from now on.”
What the hell? Who was this chick? “Listen, babe.” I lowered my voice. “I don’t know what you saw, or what you think you saw, or what you think you know, but I can tell you this much: what I do, and what Sienna does, ain’t none of your business. So you stay out of it, hear?”
Asia looked in my eyes, trying to read me, and mumbled as if to herself, “I do not have a good feeling about this. Oh no siree, no I do not. Trouble, like my mama says.” Shaking her head, she walked away.