Part 21 (2/2)

”Yep.” He reaches for his gun as I pull up just short of the club parking lot.

”You carrying?” he asks, checking the chamber, the click and release ringing out between us.

”Yep. You take the front. I'll take the back.” I put the van in park, both of us pus.h.i.+ng our doors open and moving out.

I reach for my gun and watch Jesse head swiftly toward the front door. He clicks his tongue, pointing to the busted lock on the front door. I nod, bringing my gun up and walk around to the back of the clubhouse.

Instantly I'm alert, ready to act. The back door has been smashed in with a chair, shards of gla.s.s both inside and out. It cracks under my feet as I gently lift the chair out of my way and step over the debris and into the clubhouse. I walk through quietly. The rooms are dark with the sun not up, but I continue to clear each room as I go.

The place has been ransacked, both sofas are shredded, the top of the pool table sliced. The bar has been smashed up, every bottle cracked over the Oakwood countertop with shards of gla.s.s and liquid everywhere. It's a complete f.u.c.king mess.

I catch movement to my left, and I clock Jesse clear the front hallway. He looks up, his gun still trained in front of him. I point to my right, signaling for him to go first toward the bedrooms.

He nods once and then steps forward. We search each room one by one. They show signs of being torn up. Beds slashed, mirrors smashed, furniture thrown across each room. The dirty f.u.c.kers even p.i.s.sed on some of the beds. f.u.c.king h.e.l.l.

After we clear every room, we meet back out front in the main area.

”Jesus Christ. c.u.n.ts p.i.s.sed on my bed.” Jesse kicks at one of the broken stools.

”What a f.u.c.king mess.” I look around. I wouldn't even know where to start.

”How the f.u.c.k did they pa.s.s the alarm?” Jesse asks, moving to Nix's office.

”I don't f.u.c.king know. I'm gonna check the shed. Get Nix down here.” I head back through the clubhouse the same way I came in. As I clear the back door, I notice a figure to my right crouching down behind the shed. Not wanting to draw attention to myself, I keep my pace smooth. The a.s.shole can't see me, but he can still turn at any time.

Making quick work, I clear half of the s.p.a.ce between us, before he looks back and notices me. His hat is slung low, so I don't get a good look at him before he stands, aims his gun and shoots off three rounds.

”f.u.c.ker.” I fall to the gra.s.s, taking cover and watching him bolt for the front gate.

”Jesse, out the front!” I find my feet and shout out, hoping he can cut him off. He's too fast for me.

The guy takes the corner before I do, but I pick up speed, not willing to let him get away. He's halfway to the gate by the time I take the corner. Jesse races out the front door, and takes the lead, before managing to spear him to the ground in a loud thud. I watch them struggle with a gun for a bit before Jesse manages to disarm him and pin him down, but not before a bullet leaves the chamber. The heat from it slices right pa.s.s me just as I reach them.

”Motherf.u.c.ker.” Jesse presses his knee into his chest and knocks his hat back as I train my gun down at him.

It's the dumb f.u.c.k who jumped me three weeks ago.

”You have to be f.u.c.king s.h.i.+tting me.” I look down at the piece of s.h.i.+t named Baz.

”f.u.c.k you, f.u.c.ker.” He continues to fight. Jesse's fingers wrap around his throat forcing him down.

”You f.u.c.ked up, man.” I squat down beside him.

”f.u.c.k you, a.s.shole.”

”You couldn't have made it any easier for me.” I bring the b.u.t.t of my gun down to the side of his head hard, knocking him out cold.

”I enjoyed that too much.” I let out a breath as Jesse comes to a stand.

”He got ya.” He points to my arm and the slight grazing about three inches long marks my skin. It's nothing to be concerned with. Just a slight burning sensation, but I'm p.i.s.sed he marked me.

”Help me pull him up.” We both grab him. Half carrying him and half dragging him we get him to the shed.

”Find some rope,” I instruct Jesse, pulling the a.s.shole toward one of the metal shelving units. I bend down and bring him up against it. Baz stirs, almost coming to. I deliver a punch to his face again, knocking him back out. Jesse hands me some rope and I make quick work, tying his hands behind him and through the metal shelf.

After I've secured him, I search his body, making sure he's clean.

”He have anything on him?” Jesse pa.s.ses me a rag to tie around my arm.

”Nothing.” I stand and remove my cut, wrapping a knot around the graze.

”You get in touch with Nix?”

”Yeah, he just texted. He's on his way.”

”Good, gives me some time to play with the f.u.c.ker before he gets here.”

”What the f.u.c.k you going to do, Beau?” Jesse regards me carefully, probably thinking I don't have it in me.

”This is the f.u.c.ker who had a gun to my head three weeks ago outside of Fireside. Roughed him up a bit and warned him. Apparently, he didn't learn. Coming into my f.u.c.king place and disrespecting our club.” I shake my head and move toward Baz. I should have f.u.c.king shot him when he threatened me the first time.

”Well, this will be interesting then,” Jesse declares as he pulls up a chair and gets comfortable.

”Wake up, f.u.c.ker.” I lean down and slap Baz's face a few times.

”Hmm,” Baz grumbles, his head rolling from side to side, slowly coming to.

”Good morning, suns.h.i.+ne.”

He blinks a few times, taking stock of where he is before he starts to fight his restraints. ”What the f.u.c.k, man. Let me go.”

”And where would the fun be in that?” A slow smile pulls at my lips watching him realize he's f.u.c.ked.

”You will pay for this. I'll f.u.c.king kill you.” He kicks his leg out trying to connect with me, but I step back.

”You're not smart, Baz, are ya? 'Cause from where I'm standing, looks like it's you who's about to pay.”

”What are you going to do?” His eyes briefly flick in fear before he manages to hide it.

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