Protect & Serve(203)

The crowd seemed restless, guns twitching as the clubs facing off seemed unable to decide who to trust.

“And I suppose you expect these men to just take you at your word? They’re just going to listen to you and your little police bitch?” Fang said, his shoulders squaring up.

“My little police bitch brought me all the evidence I need,” Hunter replied, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a folded square of paper. He tossed it at Fang’s feet and I gasped as I saw what it was. Half a dozen photographs spilled out from between the pages, and the pages themselves…

My case file… The pictures from the raid on the strip club… Hunter must have taken them from my cruiser!

“Thats part of the incident report, and it talks about your little fucking phone call. Why don’t you pick it up and read it to everyone? They’ve got a full transcript and a goddamned number on file to contact their favorite backstabbing snitch.”

I heard the crunching of gravel from behind. Hunter’s voice, dripping with malice, rang out in the empty desert air.

“Sarah… step aside.”

Realizing how much my hand was trembling with my anger, I lowered my gun and took a few steps away. I lifted my gaze to Hunter’s icy stare as he paused his stride where I had been standing, raising the barrel of his own gun to face down the rival club president.

The elderly biker president stepped from the crowd. “Hunter… You can’t execute this man without giving the Outlaws a say in it. I won’t let you do this.”

Hunter didn’t break his eyes from Fang, who was gazing at him in fear. The smugness had left his face, and he looked like he just might be standing on his gravesite.

The air was thick with anticipation.

“Lower your weapons,” Hunter ordered.

Uneasily, everyone shared glances between themselves once more. The barrels to their guns were still pointed our way. This was it: this was the make or break, and I could practically see the tension crackle between us all.

“Remember who I am,” Hunter elaborated. “This is a direct command: lower all of your weapons immediately.”

To my awe, every barrel lowered… all except his, which remained pointed down at the snake in our midst. I gazed around in a mixture of surprise and confusion when the present members of these rival clubs followed the orders of the man who had one of their own on the ground, seconds from death…

Hunter’s voice rang out:

“My name is Hunter Hargreaves, president of the Devil’s Dragons MC and reigning leader of the Outlaws. When this man’s plot killed my mentor Eduardo, I lifted his mantle and continued his work. I was determined to see his legacy come to fruition. Eduardo was no saint. He led the Devil’s Dragons into an era of running drugs, destroying lives, and rising off the broken backs of others. But there was more to the man than that. Eduardo’s dream was to unify us all into one organization of separate biker clubs, no longer limited by infighting, but strengthened against outside threats. I took that dream, steering it away from evil. He wanted uncontested power. I built upon that dream, guiding it towards harmony. All of your presidents sit on the council that I built in Eduardo’s name over the last five years. With help, I have established trade and turf agreements that allow you to peacefully co-exist… unifying you and so many others into an unbreakable coalition.”

He glowered down at Fang, who merely turned away with a face of bitter anger.

“All of you have come here because you respect my power and my reputation,” Hunter spoke out comfortably but authoritatively. “You have answered the call of the man who changed the desert underworld. Is there a single person among you who dares contest my right?”

Even the elderly biker remained silent.

I was completely dumbfounded.

I had no idea that Hunter wielded such power… with his words and his mere force of presence, he had not only summoned dozens of bikers from a handful of other clubs overnight, but also issued commands that they followed.

Even club presidents yielded to him.

When nobody moved a muscle, he motioned to Fang.

“Turn and kneel.”

Fang spat at the dirt, but turned his back to Hunter. He lowered himself back down to his knees as he stared directly away from us.

Hunter took several steps, placing the end of his gun barrel directly to the back of Fang’s skull.

Panic seized in my throat.

I wanted to call out to him, to plead that he not execute this man who had ruined our lives…

But the sound of a gunshot never came.

“Bind him,” Hunter finally ordered.

It appeared that every other soul had expected Hunter to spill Fang’s blood as well, because it was a moment before anybody moved. Finally, several of his Dragons stepped forward, withdrawing their belts. They wrapped them around Fang’s shoulders and tightened the straps.