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We’re outside the Black Sabbath MC’s clubhouse. Our Blackthorn Riders briefing didn’t go as smoothly as we’d hoped. There were plenty of dissenting voices, and fingers pointed at us in an angry manner. I don’t blame them—the club was built with the bikers’ creed at its foundation.
One of our most precious commandments speaks against collaborating with the police, which is precisely what we did. In any other circumstances, it would’ve led to our expulsion from the club, yet Paddy and Hammer spoke in our favor.
“They’re free to leave if that’s what they want,” I tell Orion. “I’m not happy about it, obviously. We need all the support that we can get, but it is what it is. We’re doing this whether they like it or not.”
Kai shakes his head slowly. “I don’t think they’ll leave,” he mutters. “Leaving the club just as we’re about to sign an immunity deal with the FBI, the DEA, and the ATF seems counterproductive at this point. It’ll render them vulnerable to criminal prosecution when it’s all over. We’ll be spared; they will never touch us, and since we’re taking the club down a legal path, they will have no reason to pursue us further. Those who leave us, however … Dale said something about it, didn’t he?”
“Yeah, he said they’ll be subject to investigation,” Orion says. “They could be charged with obstruction, among other things. And from all the information we gave them about our past activities, it won’t be hard for the Feds to tie defectors to one or multiple counts of you name it.”
Pride might be more powerful than the self-preservation instinct, I think. Some of those who opposed our decision are hard-core Blackthorn Riders. They’ve been MC members for at least a few years. Two of them were in different clubs before they came over to us, and they have the utmost respect for the bikers’ creed. It’s stronger than any law of the land. They may be fine to go down with the ship in the end, but it is no longer our concern. If that is their decision, all we can do is honor it and let them leave.
“They’d better not reach out for help when their asses land in jail,” Kai scoffs.
“Honestly, for a second there, I thought you might consider leaving,” I chuckle dryly.
“No way. We’re in this together. Our brotherhood comes first, even before the club and bikers’ creed,” he says, then shifts his focus back to the Black Sabbath’s clubhouse. “Is it just me, or does this place look deserted?”
“Empty but not deserted,” I mumble, looking around.
There are only two hogs parked outside, next to a beat-up Volkswagen Beetle that used to be mustard yellow in its heyday. The sun is out, and the heat is nearing unbearable levels. It felt cooler while we were out on the road with the wind in our faces. Having to sit in this scorching dryness doesn’t work for me, so I lead the way and head for the front door.
Yet as soon as I reach for the knob, the door opens wide and out comes Smarty with a rifle pointed right at my head. I freeze. “Smarty, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I ask, my voice uneven.
I’ve known him since he was a kid who dropped out of high school to push drugs for his cousins before the Black Sabbath picked him up and made him a prospect. At least then he was pushing drugs with a broader back of brothers protecting him. He doesn’t appear to have come a long way since then. Still tall and skinny, still covered in botched tattoos, and sunburned, his hands shake as he tries to grip the shotgun like a real man.
“You aren’t coming in,” Smarty says.
“You could’ve just said so,” Orion bluntly replies, then points at the gun. “Put that down before I make you eat it.”
“I can’t,” Smarty says, giving him a genuinely apologetic look. “I’m sorry, I have to do this. President’s orders. You’re not allowed to ever set foot in our clubhouse again.”
“And why is that?” I ask.
Behind me, I hear the familiar click of a safety coming off Kai’s pistol. Slowly, I reach and palm his hand as he’s about to take the gun out. We can’t afford any more violence, not when we’re working with the authorities. I’m sure we can reason with Smarty in a different manner, regardless of his current attitude.
“You’re working with the Feds. Everybody knows it,” Smarty replies. “Word spreads among the clubs. You broke the creed, brothers. We can’t have you coming around here anymore.”
“Smarty, I will only tell you once more. Put the gun down,” Orion says, his tone clipped.
I’m starting to think it’s not Kai I need to be worried about. “Orry, I’m sure we can discuss this in a civilized fashion,” I say.
“And I’m sure we’re past that,” Orion shoots back, “because we’re actually trying to save what’s left of Southern Cali’s clubs while they’re busy bending over backward for a fucking sociopath who is going to get them all killed.”
Smarty’s terrified gaze darts between us, confusion plastered on his face. “Guys, I don’t like this, I swear, but I can’t let you in.”
“We’re not coming in,” Orion says. “We got that message loud and clear. I just don’t like having a gun pointed at my fucking face. Don’t make me ask you again.”
“Smarty, put it down,” I tell him. “Come on, man, let’s be real men here. We’re not trying to cause any more trouble. We’re just trying to reason with folks.”
“They don’t want to talk to you,” Smarty whispers.
“That’s fine, but I’ll need you to give them a message,” Orion cuts in. “No matter what they do, there’s only one way that this is going to end. Colton Harrow and the Devils are going down. Whether they’ll live to see the inside of a cell or not will be entirely up to them. But the Feds have stepped in, and they will settle this. All we did was make sure we wouldn’t fry with the Devils or anyone stupid enough to think the law wouldn’t touch them this time around. You hear me, Smarty?”
He nods once. “Yeah.”
“Tell your prez that we’re still open to having a conversation about this. The Blackthorn Riders are taking the war back to Colton, with or without your support. It’ll go a lot smoother if the clubs band together, but if you all are comfortable having your asses spanked by a fucking fraud and his cult following, by all means, bend over, ladies. We’re doing more for our crew than any of you did for yours,” Orion adds. He gives me a slight nod. “Let’s go.”
Finally, Smarty lowers his shotgun.
