Fuck, fuck, a thousand times, FUCK.
I'd have to tell the club now. Bring all the boys in to rain down hell on Tacoma, put a stop to whatever shit they were getting into with the Chinese. Had to move fast, too, before the motherfuckers ruined everything we'd fought for over the past year.
Then I could deal with the mad bloodlust burning in my fists, the need to shatter the whole fucking world over Elle Jo ripping out my heart.
I found a little watering hole just outside town. Recognized it from other runs, and I knew the owner had a loose affiliation with the club for years.
No sooner than I burst in and the boy behind the bar saw my patch, he motioned me over to a corner stool and slammed a shot of good whiskey down in front of me. I took it down my gullet without a word, closing my eyes as that hot, honey burn exploded in my guts.
Thank fuck for booze. Jack, Jim, and Johnny had never betrayed me. Not like pussy had.
I punched my empty glass down on the counter, making the only sound I needed for more, then ripped out my phone while I waited.
“Yeah?” Roman the Enforcer answered in his booming voice.
“Gonna need support from the guys up here after all, man. She wouldn't cooperate. Shit's coming down fast with the Chinese. Motherfucking imminent.”
“What the fuck happened?”
I explained everything. Left out the part where I'd started to feel real fucking attached to Elle Jo, when I'd stupidly believed she might really be my old lady, instead of just being the woman I'd fucked before she fucked me over.
“She just took off with one of their prospects and you didn't stop them?”
I shrugged. “You really want me going martyr alone in Tacoma?”
Roman growled his consideration on the other end of the line, and a sharp noise interrupted us. I heard his kid crying in the background.
His girl Sally made some soft, cooing noises to calm the boy down.
“Sorry. Yeah, brother, guess you're right. I'll get the boys together quick. Should get our asses up there by tomorrow evening. You keep your shit straight and try to get more intel. Find out if that bitch of a princess you married is just running, or if she's trying to lure us into a trap.”
I knocked back my second shot while Roman put the phone down, his killer voice softening as he talked to his kid, his old lady. Something about that shit made me smile.
Too bad it also made me rage, reminded me of all the shit I'd lost.
No, the shit I'd never even had. Everything Elle started to make me hope for before she flung it around, broke it, smashed it to smithereens.
“It's not like that, brother. She's a crafty little girl, being who she is, yeah, but she doesn't want any bloodshed. We both agreed on that before she stepped out. There's no fucking way she'd help her daddy draw us into a meatgrinder.”
Wasn't sure why the fuck I bothered to defend her, but I did.
“Well, she's made her choice, and so has her old man. She's eaten up her goodwill,” Roman thundered. “Get moving. Find out what you can. The Prez won't wanna put a hole through her chest if we can avoid it. Doesn't sound like we're gonna be as lucky with the rest of those Tacoma fucks.”
I nodded, feeling my chest tighten. One more day in the life where the bloodshed didn't end. It never bothered me before, but for some shitty reason, it did now.
“Take care of yourself and your family, brother. A man never knows how or when he's going to come back from the trenches every time we get ourselves into this shit.” I meant it.
Roman just chuckled, hungry as ever for raw violence. Becoming a family man had barely lessened his appetite for ripping fuckers' arms outta their sockets, though he was more careful to reign in those urges since we'd all nearly died in our shootout with the cartel a few months back.
“Worry about your own ass, hothead. Shit, you're usually itching to settle the score more than me. What's gotten into you?”
I held up my empty shot glass and studied the light streaming across it. I knew damned well what – or who – had gotten underneath my skin.
That was for me. He didn't need to know it.
I'd just given him all he needed for a club briefing. The giant who'd held me down and knocked me out cold on a couple occasions when I got out of line was the last brother I'd confess anything to.
“Nothing. Just being up here by myself in their fucking den, I guess. Don't worry about it. I'll get as much as I can outta the locals for you and the Prez by the time you show up. I'll be ready.”
“We'll be there in thirty hours. Thirty hours or so to get our shit together and ride.”
The line went dead. I pushed the phone back into my pocket and ordered one more shot to clear my fucking head.
Once the poison wore off, I'd be back on the road. This time, I'd be demanding answers, and I wasn't letting anybody blind me again.