Savage Sacrifice: Savage Angels MC #5 (8 page)

The sun is beating down on me, and I put my sunglasses on. I’m six foot six, and I’ve packed on even more muscle since Kat left. What else am I supposed to do to keep myself occupied while my woman is away? Exercise is a good way to work out my demons, but right now, I’d prefer to work them out on fucking Will Van Ryken. I keep walking, and after half an hour, I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I’m being followed, and I have no fucking idea where I am. I take the next corner, start jogging and duck into a doorway. A young Hispanic male runs past where I am, and I step out. He stops further up, looking around him, trying to find me.

“You looking for me?” I yell.

He spins around, taken by surprise. “No!”

“So you haven’t been following me?” I ask as I walk closer to him.

“I...I was told...” he stammers.

“Kid, I’m not going to hurt you but why are you following me?” He’s within arms reach now and looks like he wants to run.

“Juan Cortez told me to follow you, see where you went.”

“Juan Cortez?” The name means nothing to me.

“Yeah, he runs all the drugs in Houston.”

“I’m not from Houston. I’m only here to see my wife,” I reply.

“Yeah, sure but everyone knows the Savage Angels are trying to get a bigger slice of the market. Bodies have been piling up in and around Juan’s territory.” The kid lifts his shirt to reveal a gun. He can’t be more than sixteen, and he’s threatening me? Laughter rumbles up out of me, and I close the distance between us, grabbing him by the shirt with one hand and his gun in the other.

“I’ve had a fucking rough day. You do not threaten me, kid. I am
not
to be fucked with, especially today.”

I push him up against a wall, and he falls flat on his ass. I slide his clip out of his gun, letting it fall to the ground, then make sure there’s none in the chamber. I’m contemplating pistol whipping him when I hear the sound of a gun being cocked. I turn around slowly to find an older Hispanic male with a gun pointed at my head.

“Let him be,” says the man. He’s calm, death in his eyes, and I know I’m in trouble.

“Be cool. He threatened me, I was just returning the favor.”

He looks around me to the kid. “That true?”

“Smoke this mother-fucker. All I did was show him my piece.”

The man bursts into another language, glaring at the kid. His eyes finally come back to me, and he holds up the gun and his other hand. “Apologies Mr. Reynolds, he was told to follow you, that’s all.”

“You know who I am?” He nods. “Right. Well, who the fuck are you?”

“My name is Hector, and I work for Mr. Cortez. He would like a meet, if you have the time?”

No one knows where I am. The only MC I trust in this city are my own. Milo wouldn’t make a move against me, but I doubt if he’d prevent anything from happening to me either.

“And if I say no?”

The man sighs and points his gun back to me. “You have Mr. Cortez’s word that you will not be harmed, but we would prefer it if you accompanied me.”

I nod at him, put the kids gun in the back of my jeans and say, “Lead the way.”

Hector brings me to a car, he gets the kid to drive, asks me to sit in the front while he sits in the back with his gun pointed at me. Smart. Even if I could take out the kid he’d shoot me before I had a chance to escape. We drive for about twenty minutes, which might as well be hours as I don’t know this fucking city. I’m annoyed at myself for letting myself get into this predicament.

We pull into a warehouse and the roller doors close as we park the car. I get out of it and observe that there are two men on the entrance and another six standing around the building. I hear a door close and look up see a man in a black t-shirt and jeans walking down a staircase.

He stops half way. “I have an office upstairs. Come up, we’ll have drinks.” He turns and walks back up the stairs, not waiting for my response. I look around the building, and his men are all smiling at me. I glare at them and walk up the stairs. I go through the door a the top to find six more men in a large open space with a big desk at one end. The man who greeted me downstairs is sitting behind the desk. He stands and holds out his hand as I approach him.

I grasp it and shake. “Juan Cortez.”

“Dane Reynolds.”

“I know who you are, Dane, may I call you Dane?”

It’s all very formal, like something out of a movie. I take another look around the room and sit down.

“Sure, if I can call you Juan?”

He smiles, sits, and pours us both a drink. I can smell it from here, tequila. I don’t like tequila, much prefer whiskey.

“Yes, of course.”

“Juan, what the fuck am I doing here?”

He widens his eyes at me and slides a glass toward me. “The more important question is, Dane, what the fuck are you doing here in Houston?”

“I’m here to see my wife. She’s working here, you might have heard of her band, The Grinders?”

He purses his lips together, not breaking my gaze. He nods, picks up his glass, and takes a sip of tequila.

“We both know the Savage Angels are making a move on my turf. I’ve been nice, I’ve tried to reason with you all, but I will not lose any more market share.” His tone is deadly, and I know he’s not fucking around.

“Juan, I don’t run drugs or guns. My interests are real estate and businesses
, legitimate
businesses. I am not the President of the Chapter in Houston, I am the President of the Chapter in Tourmaline. I have nothing to do with their business dealings. But I can see how you could get confused. I am wearing the same colors, and rest assured if you fuck with me, you
are
fucking with them.” I keep my voice quiet, controlled and try not to show too much emotion. “I’m here to see my wife and that’s it.”

“No you are not the President here but you are the President of all of the Savage Angels MC, yes? For your Chapter was the first, the Mother Chapter.” He pauses waiting for a response from me and when I don’t give him one he continues, “You don’t run drugs or guns? You expect me to believe that when I know it’s not true?”

“Regardless of what you believe, it’s the truth. But maybe I can help you, talk to the local Chapter here, work out a deal.”

“I’ve tried talking to them, to Milo. He had them beat my representative quite badly, that seems to be the only language you people understand.”

Fuck
. Fucking Milo and his need to be a fucking outlaw. I pick up the tequila and take a sip, not enjoying the taste. I’m nodding my head trying to think of something, anything, that would help me in my current situation.

“You don’t like tequila?” asks Juan.

“No, takes like piss. Whiskey, that’s a real drink.”

Juan laughs, he slams his hand on the table and laughs harder. “Balls of steel, that’s how they describe you, you know that?”

He points behind me, and I hear a door being opened. A few minutes later, a bottle of whiskey is placed in front of me.

“Drink with me, Dane.”

I open the bottle, pour the tequila on the floor, and fill my glass up. I take a swig enjoying its familiar burn.

“Tell me, are you going to start selling to Rockplay while you’re here? They’re good customers,” says Juan.

“You sell to Rockplay? Do you sell to The Grinders?”

“No, they don’t buy from us. But I’m guessing you, as their patron, supply them?”

“No, as far as I know, they don’t do drugs.” My mind is spinning. Those fucking assholes do drugs around my woman. “What are Rockplay into?”

“You don’t know? Heroin and the occasional bag of coke. Will has been a customer on and off for years. We have also supplied him with women, he has...unusal tastes.” Juan is studying me and whatever he sees makes him relax. “You didn’t know. It’s one of the reasons we asked you to come back here. We supply Rockplay wherever they’re in the states. We have a good thing with them, and I assumed,
incorrectly
that you were going to put a stop to that.”

“I don’t deal drugs. Too easy to get caught and have the law on top of you. I’m not going back to prison. The only problems I have these days are with the tax man. Fucking IRS.”

“How can an MC not be involved in illegal activities?” asks Juan incredulously.

“Didn’t say we weren’t involved in anything illegal, we bend the rules. We keep out of high-risk ventures like guns and drugs. It’s more white collar these days, insider trading, real estate, you’d be surprised how lucrative it is.”

He nods, stares at his glass then lifts his eyes to mine. “Can you talk to Milo? I don’t want a bloodbath, war isn’t good for business.” He’s asking me for help. Juan seems sincere for a drug dealer.

I nod. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Good! Now, can we take you somewhere?”

I stand, relieved that I’m being let go. “Nah, I’ll find my way. Thanks for the drink.”

“You’re a big fucker, you know that?”

I grin at him. “Yeah, been told that before. You got a cell number I can reach you at?”

He opens a drawer and pulls out a business card. Printed on it, in black embossed lettering, are his name and a cell phone number.

“Take care, Dane, we’ll be in touch.”

I pocket the card, turn, and walk out of the office. I jog down the stairs, and there’s no one in the warehouse below. Once outside, I walk in what I think is the direction of the inner city. Great, now I have to worry about a fucking war with Juan and his men, Rockplay are on drugs, and the possibility that my woman is fucking someone else. Could this fucking day get any fucking worse?

J
udge and I are sitting in the hotel room he shares with Jasmin. These fucking rock stars know how to live. My whole house could fit in this suite alone. Judge looks comfortable in his new surroundings, but it makes me uncomfortable. Give me the open road and a sleeping bag any day, just not for too long, I am getting older, and my bed does feel good these days.

“You hungry, Dirt? I could order you something to eat,” says Judge as he pours himself a drink.

“Yeah, I could go a burger.”

“Me too.”

I watch as Judge goes to the phone and dials room service. Yeah, he’s fitting in here just fine. I wonder how long Dane will let him stay before making him come home. It will be a rude shock when he does, no room service and he’ll have to clean up after himself.

The door to the room opens and in walks, Jasmin followed by Kat. They’re talking, and neither of them notices me.

“Hey Sugar,” says Judge as he embraces Jasmin. He looks over the top of her head and gives Kat a grin.

“Hey, Judge,” smiles Kat.

“I just ordered room service for Dirt and myself. Want me to order something for you, too?”

All eyes come to me. I have my hands on my hips, and I smile at them and nod. Surprisingly, Kat walks toward me and hugs me.

“Dirt! What are you doing here?” Kat sounds genuinely happy to see me.

“Visiting you.” It comes out more harshly than I intend and she leans back from me, tilting her head to the side.

“Okay, well, good?” Kat asks questioningly.

“Can we talk?” I look around the room. “Somewhere private?”

Kat lets me go and steps back. “Yeah, honey, how about we go back to my room?”

“I just ordered burgers,” says Judge.

“I can order more, Judge. Besides, Jas will eat it.”

“Hells, yes I will!” exclaims Jasmin.

“Sugar, you will not be happy later. You’ll spend the rest of the afternoon in the gym, complaining about how big your ass is,” smirks Judge

“Well, maybe we can work it off another way?” responds Jasmin with a lascivious smile.

“Time for us to go,” I say, looking at Kat.

“Agreed!” Kat walks to Jasmin and hugs her. “Catch up later?”

“Yeah, Kat, I’d like to go over that new song you’ve been messing about with, think I have a killer keyboard solo that would work.”

“A killer keyboard solo?” Kat laughs. “See you
much
later.”

Kat winks at Judge, who nods at her. I give him a two-fingered wave, and head for the door.

When we get outside the room, Kat heads for the elevators and takes me one floor up. I’m studying her face and can tell she’s anxious from the frown that is creasing her forehead. Normally Kat makes small talk but not today. She even appears to be avoiding all eye contact with me.

We enter her room and I notice it’s bigger than Judge and Jasmin’s, I walk up to the enormous windows and look out at the city. Kat comes up beside me and hands me a drink. I take a sniff and smell the familiar scent of whiskey.

“You going to tell me why you’re here?” asks Kat staring straight ahead.

“You fucking Will Van Ryken?”

Her head snaps quickly in my direction, anger distorts her features. “I. Beg. Your. Pardon?”

I’ve known Kat for a long time. This is something I didn’t expect, typically she explodes, but this cold, calculating, contained anger isn’t like her.

“I said are you fucking–“

“I heard what you said,” she responds through gritted teeth.

“Kat, there are pictures of you all over the internet with this guy, and today, with my own eyes, I saw you walk through the lobby downstairs, holding hands.”

Her lips are pursed together, and she’s nodding her head. “So, of course, I’m fucking him! Did Dane send you? You want to hit me too?”

“Whoa! We both know Dane didn’t mean to hit you, and he’s tearing himself up over it. What is he supposed to think? What am
I
supposed to think?”

She holds up her hand with her wedding ring on it. “I took a vow! How can you even ask me that?”

“You’re just like your mother! You haven’t answered the question. Tell me, Kat, are you as secretive as she was?”

Shock goes across her features, and she takes a step back from me. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Fuck
. She doesn’t know anything about her mother. Dane has kept it from her as has her manager Dave. I look back out the window and sip my whiskey.

“Dirt?”

I look back at her. “This shit with you and Dane has gone on long enough. If you want to fix your marriage, I suggest you fucking act like it. You’re making Dane look weak, and he’s talking about leaving the MC for
you
,” I sound disgusted as I say the last word. I can’t even look at her.