"Okay," the referee called out, his voice drawing new attendees. "We're playing by Cajun Rules, gentlemen. Let the show begin. And may the best dog win."
Slider assumed the men holding the leashes were the dogs' owners, and as they released the pit bulls into the ring, both men stepped back into their corners but stayed in the pit. The dogs went at each other so hard it made Slider sick. They bit, snarled, tackled, and jumped. As their attacks landed, new bloodstains soon joined older, faded ones on the floor. The owners in the corner shouted commands and encouragements, and it was clear that one dog was a favorite among the gathering crowd.
Something caught Slider's eye on the opposite side of the fighting pit-a kid. Maybe Sam's age. Watching the fight. "Who the hell would bring a kid to this?" he asked Phoenix.
"That's some messed-up shit." Phoenix leaned in closer, so his words wouldn't carry to the other spectators. "I'm gonna wander. Take some pics. I'll text if I see Davis and get what we need."
Slider nodded and watched as Phoenix moved away, his hat tilted down low. Turning to Caine, he said, "No one of interest here. Wanna move on?"
At the next fighting pit, the dogs appeared in bad shape. "How long's this been going on?" Caine asked a man at the fence.
"Thirty minutes," the guy said. "They have great fucking stamina, don't they?"
"Yeah, man, they do," Caine said, leaning over the fence a little like he was interested. Slider scanned the crowd around this pit, but still didn't see who they were looking for. His phone vibrated in his pocket.
Surprisingly, the text was from Martin.
More backup en route. Text when departing. We're going in after.
That was the best news Slider had heard all day. When the date changed, they'd resolved themselves to having to walk away and leave these fuckers to fight another day, but maybe now the authorities would break up this ring once and for all.
Caine arched a brow at him, but Slider just shook his head. He'd fill the others in when they were out the door.
At the third pit, a fight had just ended, and people were moving away from the fence in search of new action. Surreptitiously, Slider scanned the faces. But still no Davis. Where the hell was he?
Slider's phone vibrated again. And Caine's must have, too, because, he pulled his cell out at the same time. The text was from Phoenix.
Found Davis. Took pix. Bigger problem: that fucker Dominic from the Iron Cross is here. Head out.
Caine turned to him, eyes wide. "Crew's Cross. Sonofabitch."
They turned and made for the nearest door as Caine's meaning sank in.
Though Slider hadn't dealt with them personally, he knew who the Iron Cross were-they were the Baltimore gang who'd worked with Haven's father to try to kidnap her. The Raven Riders had first interacted with the Iron Cross when the Ravens reluctantly sold them some arms the club was trying to unload, but that'd blown back in their faces, proving the wisdom of why the Ravens usually stayed out of the dirtier shit like guns and drugs. Next thing the club knew, the Iron Cross had learned that Haven and Cora were under the Ravens' protection and were threatening to tell Haven's father if they didn't pay up.
But the Iron Cross had gotten theirs in the end when the Ravens had helped the authorities take out their Baltimore headquarters. Their contacts had told them that all the Iron Cross were either dead or in custody, but clearly they'd missed one. And not just any one, but their fucking leader.
Phoenix caught up with them at the door. And then they were out in the night, and heading for their-
"Leaving so soon, gentlemen?" came a voice from behind them. "I don't think you placed any bets."
Ice formed in Slider's gut as they turned. The man was tall, bald, and had bright blue eyes that glinted dangerously in the barn's exterior lights. "Got a sick fucking kid at home," Slider said. "My only night out. Figures." Keeping his body loose and relaxed, he stepped forward, sensing his friends' tension.
Slider hadn't ever interacted with this Iron Cross asshole, but Phoenix and Caine had. At that arms deal. What kind of luck was it that they'd managed to steer clear of Davis but gotten nabbed by an old enemy they hadn't even known to look out for?
Dominic crossed his arms over his broad chest. "It's not really good form to leave without supporting the operation, if you know what I mean."
Slider inhaled to respond when he noticed a series of puncture wounds on the guy's left wrist. And then it was like being sucked back in time. To the hospital, the day that Ben broke his arm. The tall, bald man with the dog bite injury, bleeding all over the desk . . .
Jesus, he'd seen this man before after all. He'd seen him, but because of all his baggage and bullshit, Slider hadn't known who he was seeing, or the kind of danger he represented. His gut twisted. That night, if Dominic had turned and seen Cora, who he'd conspired to sell back to Haven's father . . .
He scrambled to respond normally. "Look, man, we don't want any trouble. I'd like to stay, but when the wife calls because your kid needs to go to urgent care, what are you supposed to do?"
Dominic stepped closer, and Slider made sure to make easy eye contact with him. Nothing to hide here. Nothing to hide here at all, motherfucker.
"And what about you two? You got nagging wives and sick kids, too?" he said, suspicion and agitation rolling off him. Slider didn't know whether those were directed specifically at them, or were simply the result of his previous gang having been obliterated. No doubt being the sole survivor of a once powerful organization could lead to some serious paranoia, paranoia likely compounded by being an Iron Cross island in the middle of the Dead Men's violent sea.
"Naw, man," Phoenix said, peering up from under his hat and laying on a thick Southern accent. "But he's our damn ride." Caine nodded.
Dominic eyeballed Phoenix and Caine for a long minute, then shook his head. "I don't want to see you assholes here again. I do and I'll throw you in one of the pits. Now get the fuck out of here."
Just as he spat the words, Slider spotted Davis over Dominic's shoulder, wearing civilian clothes and heading toward the door. Straight toward them. "Yeah, man. Okay. We're out." Slider turned and hustled his friends ahead of him.
And then they were through the parking lot, inside their truck, and pulling out-fast. "Holy shit, do you think he recognized us?" Phoenix asked.
"Dominic or Davis?" Caine said, slapping his baseball hat against his leg.
"Neither," Slider said. "I don't think either one did. Davis was too far away. And no way Dominic would've let us walk out of there like that if he recognized either one of you."
"No, because there's no way he wouldn't have heard the word on the street that the Ravens were involved in talking out his club," Phoenix said, speeding out the long gravel driveway to the road beyond. "Jesus. Jesus. That was some unexpected shit right there."
Guilt sloshed in Slider's gut. "I fucking saw that guy at the hospital. The day Ben broke his arm. But I'd never seen him before and didn't know who he was."
"No reason you would've known," Caine said. "But you're right, he wouldn't have let us go, so let's all fucking breathe."
"Yeah, and anyway, Martin texted while we were in there. He managed to round up some backup. They're raiding the fight after all. Speaking of which . . ." Slider tugged his phone from his pocket and pecked out a text.
We left. Got over 100 people in there, including Davis and the fucking leader of the former Iron Cross gang. And some kids. We got pix. Be careful.
Less than a minute later, Martin replied: Roger that. We're going in.
Within another three minutes, a line of police vehicles whizzed past them, lights flashing but sirens off.
"Woohoo!" Phoenix yelled. "Go get 'em, boys!"
Slider grinned, some of the tension bleeding out of his shoulders. "I'm too fucking old for this shit."
That earned him some laughter, and Slider didn't mind. Because they'd gotten the evidence on Davis, helped set up a raid on the dogfighting ring, and even managed to learn that an old enemy remained-though he was about to be taken down once and for all.
That was about as much as they could've hoped for. And now all Slider wanted to do was go home to his woman and his boys and live their lives free from the pull of the past, their eyes set firmly on the future.
Even though the others had done their best to distract her, Cora was strung tight waiting for some word from Slider.