Meltdown of Mad Dog (Satan's Savages MC Novel #4) (9 page)

BOOK: Meltdown of Mad Dog (Satan's Savages MC Novel #4)
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I’m the fucking President of the Virginia Satan’s Savages—we ride hard and fear none.

The gentle creak of a door opening surprises me. I have no idea where we are, but I was assuming we’d be going to a warehouse or a factory, but the door sounded more like it came from a house rather than anything industrial. We step through, and once inside I can feel the temperature change. Outside this time of year can be quite chilly, but entering inside, the heat wraps around my body warming up my icy cool skin instantly.

The slam of the door behind me makes me jump slightly. Gritting my teeth at the fact that I probably looked like a fucking pussy to these Mexican scum, I take a deep breath as my arm is pulled again and I’m walking off in another direction. The groan of floorboards beneath my feet only makes me more suspicious that I am, in fact, in a house rather than somewhere industrial.

“Right, stay here,” Manuel demands.

I open my eyes waiting for him to pull the sack off my head, but nothing. The heavy footsteps of men walking out of the room makes my heart race faster. I have no idea who’s in the room with me, but I need to know if Blade is here.

“Blade?”

“Prez.”

“Okay don’t say anything, we don’t know who’s here with us. Just are you okay?”

“Yeah, you?”

“Yeah, just keep your wits about you.”

“Good idea, Blade, keep a watchful eye on your President, you never know what he might do,” a voice that I don’t recognize echoes through the room.

Tensing, I straighten up and open my eyes wider trying to see through the sack, but it’s no use. “I meant watch out for the Mexican scum, not me. Tell your employer to hurry the fuck up, I haven’t got all day,” I demand.

He laughs, and it’s a sadistic, maniacal laugh. It sends a shudder right through me. “Oh, Mad Dog, you’re as feisty as José said you were. You do not disappoint.”

“Like I said fuckhead, just get your lazy arse employer down here.”

He chuckles again. “Mad Dog. Oh, Mad Dog. Woof, woof, I
am
the employer.”

My body stiffens, and a cold shiver runs down my spine. Wincing inwardly, I mentally slap myself for giving him lip. I know he holds all the cards in this bargain, but he’s also the reason some of my men are dead. The street gangs I was doing business with, are dead. This fucktard has a lot of blood on his hands, and I kind of have a thing about holding grudges.

“What’s your name?” I ask.

He chuckles. “How about I unveil you first, and then we can talk properly.”

Suddenly the sack is ripped off my head, and the bright lights invade my eyes. I close my eyelids tight trying to stop the invasion and blink a few times trying to get used to the light again. When I can finally see, the room is opulent. All pristine white walls with red and brown expensive looking furniture. And then I see him, surrounded by men. He’s tall with short hair, unlike his counterparts. His cheeks hold a slight stubble, he has small scars all over his face, and he has a toned and stocky build like he works out—a lot. He must be in his mid to late forties. He looks like he’s seen a lot of action in his life. Clenching my jaw from side to side, I sniff and tilt my head back looking him up and down. 

“So, now that we can see each other, you know my name, it’s only fair that I finally get to know who the fucker is fucking everything up for me.”

He smiles and strides up to me. “Mad Dog, you need to calm yourself. You’re in no immediate danger, stop acting out with bravado to cover how terrified you are.”

I scoff and roll my eyes. “Please, you don’t scare me. You probably have some really lame name like Roberto or Alonzo, or maybe Martina? You could be a woman, your voice is kinda high-pitched.”

He purses his lips and shakes his head. “Mad Dog, be civil.”

“Oh, like you’re going to be civil? Tell me this is going to work in my favour today, and that I’m going to walk out of here being able to keep my gun and drug trade. Now, that would be civil. But you walk into this country thinking you own it and can just take over, you’re nothing but the scum living between my toes,” I spit.

He breathes in harshly through his nose, his nostrils opening up wide as a vein twitches in his neck. “You’re right, things aren’t going to go well for you, especially if you don’t cooperate. I’ve been nice, I’ve played fair. I’ve let your club stand without burning you insignificant little runts to the ground. Now let me tell
you,
Mad Dog McNamara, I know everything about everything in this State. I know everything about
everyone
in your club. I know all their families, and I know all their secrets. I can bring you down with a simple click of my fingers. You think the Cartel is a simple organization? No, Mad Dog. We are a worldwide commodity. We rule businesses, courthouses, law enforcement, we have our hand in every slice of pie imaginable. And you? You’re nothing, but an annoying little insect buzzing around my head, that I can’t wait to squash and watch the blood ooze all over my hands. So, Mad Dog, you want to play with the big boys, then test me, see what I’m really capable of, because I’m dying to let my darker side out and stop being so hospitable to you and your
thugs
.”

Swallowing hard, I grit my teeth shuddering at his words, wondering how much truth they hold. If he has his finger in everything, especially the heat, he can have us brought in at any time, for anything. This changes my position slightly. But not entirely.
He may be bluffing.

“Well, if you’re so big and mighty you must have a strong name to go with this confidence?”

He rolls his eyes, turning his back to me and huffing. “God, always so focused on my name. The suspense is killing you isn’t it?” He turns back to face me, and I raise my eyebrow waiting for him to talk. He opens his mouth and then closes it again making me exhale in annoyance. “You see, Mad Dog, they say patience is a virtue. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Licking my bottom lip, I shake my head. “I’ve always been more of a go get ‘em type of person myself.”

He chuckles and nods. “Yes, I can see that in you. Well, my name is… José can you come and untie Mad Dog please?” he calls out making me exhale in utter annoyance.
This guy’s a complete fuckhead.

José walks in, along with Manuel, and they walk up to Blade and me and untie us. The rope grazes my skin causing friction burns as José violently removes the rope. Pulling my arms back around to my front, I rub my red and blistered wrists.

“José is your employer seriously a little bit… you know… dumb in the head?” I ask and José smirks and turns back toward the man.

He nods his head, and José turns back to face me with a giant smile on his face, I don’t have time to think before his closed fist smashes into the side of my face. A sharp pain radiates through my skull and my eyes clench as I fall to the side, a deep mahogany desk catching my fall. My eyes open to see Blade stepping forward in a mad rush, but Manuel grabs him, holding him back and I raise my hand ordering Blade to stop. He halts his movements, watching me as I groan to myself and stagger standing back upright to face José.

“Seriously, one of these days, José, you and me are going to have an altercation, and it’s going to be
sweet
.”

He grins, and his eyes squint into thin lines. “Oh, how I look forward to that, Mad Dog.”

“Okay, enough comparing your cock size, I’m sick of this game. Mad Dog, it’s nice to finally meet you. Well, not nice as such, really it’s just a formality, so it’s not pleasurable at all. But I digress, my name is Jesús, and I’m the Leader of the South Australian syndicate of the Mexican Cartel. Pleasure to meet your acquaintance.”

A smile creeps across my face, and I can’t hold back my chuckle. He furrows his brows and purses his lips. “Something funny to you?”

I shrug and tilt my head. “Your name is Jesús? Like… as in Jesus? Did you choose your name or were you born with it?”

He takes a deep breath flaring his nostrils and crossing his bulky arms over his chest. “My mother called me Jesús, she is a deeply religious woman, and I for one am honoured to carry the name. Plus, it’s not pronounced like Jesus anyway you ignoramus.”

Shaking my head, I laugh. “No, but it sure is spelt like it. Man talk about having a God-like complex.”

Blade tries to hold back his smirk, but a small chuckle escapes his mouth.

“Do you know what’s even funnier?” I ask.

“Oh please, do enlighten me of your good humour, Mad Dog,” Jesús mocks.

“You’re Ingratos bastard Marco, the one who went missing? Yeah, well, we had him, we tortured him, and you know how?”

Jesús winces slightly, so slightly I almost missed it, but it was there. “Hmm… I have no idea, but I’m assuming painfully?”

“Oh, you’re gonna love this. It was by crucifixion. Ha-ha, can you fucking believe it? Your lackey, Jesus’ lackey, the lackey of Jesus was crucified. Not on a cross, mind you, we just hammered stakes through his wrists and feet, but still what are the odds? This is fucking like something from Monty Python, right?” I laugh a harrowing belly laugh as Jesús and José glare at me.

“The name is Jesús, not Jesus, you say it two completely different ways,” Jesús spits at me.

“Oh, sorry, did I offend you? I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. Maybe Mary here can wipe away your tears.” I point to José, and he rolls his eyes at me and huffs.

Jesús curls up his lip marching over to me, the rage permeating off him in waves. His face is bright red and every muscle taut and tense. He storms up to me, putting his hand in his pocket. Glancing down, I watch as his hand comes back up holding something small. His hand flicks up toward my neck and unexpectedly a blade flicks out, the cool metal sliding right along my jawline. Tensing up, I stand still as the blade presses against my throat.

“You might want to simmer down your sarcasm, Mad Dog, remember you’re here on my terms? If you want to leave here
at all
, you might want to start behaving in a decent manner.”

Clicking my tongue against the roof of my mouth, I glance down at the knife as he digs the blade in slightly further. The sharp sting of the tip piercing my skin is followed by the warm trickle of blood slides down my neck through my beard. “Okay, I’ll behave. Just tell me why I’m here.”

“Straight to the point, just like you said. Okay. My offer. You choose to willingly stop with the lackeys distributing your E tablets, and I’ll leave your club alone. But, if you go behind our backs, and try to distribute without our knowledge again, we
will
come after you, without hesitation.”

Smirking, I shake my head. “Jesús, that’s not an offer, that’s horse shit. You’re telling me to give up good money, and to stop trading in something my club has been doing since its inception, thirty years ago. Why would I give it up for you?”

He sniffs, rubbing his chin and pulls the knife away from my neck, taking a step back. “Okay, you want me to play hardball? Then you give me no option. You stop your distribution. You pull your lackeys, you get out of drugs and guns completely. One hundred percent. I mean
all
the way. Change things up. Go into a business, make money legitimately. I really don’t give two flying fucks how you source your income, just not through drugs and guns in South Australia. You hand in your supply of everything you have in stock at the moment and, in return, I won’t go after your family.”

My chest tightens and a cold shiver runs down my spine, but I don’t want him to know I’m rattled so I play dumb. “My club is my family.”

“Oh, so if I went after a fiery little red-head called Willow, and sliced her open in front of Dylan, how exactly would that sit with you? And then after Dylan was a mess from watching me slice open his Old Lady, I would dice him up, too. Then to top it all off, I’d bring in Amelia and fuck her so hard she would bleed like a river. Then I’d torture her right in front of you, making you watch every second as you take in her pain-filled screams, knowing you were the reason she was going through that pain, all because you wouldn’t give up the drugs and guns for the sake of…
business
. It would be a shame.”

An insatiable wave of hatred and anger boils from within me. My fists ball at my sides, and my muscles clench all over my body. Hearing him talk about my family like that was excruciatingly painful, and imagine it in my head was even worse. My neck tenses as my jaw clenches, my eyes twitch as I stare at a smirking Jesús. The anger consumes me as everything blurs around me. I lunge forward screaming at the top of my lungs reaching out for him. My anger is an untamed beast, with the ferocity of a caged lion, ready to attack. But before I can reach him I’m pulled back, my arms held to my side as I groan, kick and scream to get to him.

I’m losing the plot.

No one talks about Millie that way, no one!

“I’m going to fucking kill you myself,” I yell. Jesús shakes his head with a sigh and raises his eyebrow.

“No, you won’t, because if anything happens to me, contingencies are in place. If I die, what I just said will happen to your family, slowly and painfully. If José dies, same thing. If we hear of you trading with your lackeys, well I’ll give you three guesses as to what happens, but my guess is you only need one.”

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