Page 53 of Vapor's Blaze

Chapter 19

Vapor

This has been a day jam packed with surprises. I felt kind of shitty encouraging Tracker to come clean about his plans for the future, but the last thing he needed was Jamus dragging him into a futile war to resurrect the Hellfire Hounds MC when he had no intention of staying. Jamus and Tracker are the only ones still loyal to the Hounds, but two men do not a MC make. Though to be fair, after talking to the old man, I get the impression that Jamus just wants an easy life. He loves riding and the open road, and because he had no family, the Hounds probably filled that gap.

Well, now he’s got Trix, and I have a feeling if he wanted to, then Siege would be cool if he joined us.

I guess once Tracker got going, he wanted to clear the air about some family history as well. It was probably related to King’s life hanging on by a thread that caused Tracker’s perspective to shift. Tracker has always been pretty standoffish with me and most of my club brothers, but I noticed lately Rigs has been visiting him a lot, so maybe that’s the reason he’s rethinking his life choices. Tracker is young and has a past history of making questionable decisions. He needs the kind of proper guidance and mentoring he would have never found in the Hellfire Hounds.

I get Trix settled at the bar with one of the club girls, and head straight down to the basement. There is only one door open. When I step inside the cell, I see an older man I don’t recognize tied to a chair. He has gray hair and is wearing a Grave Diggers cut. He’s looking pretty rough, so I got here in time.

Siege and Rigs are standing in one corner talking.

Before I can say anything the old man states irritably, “I can hear every damn thing you’re saying, assholes.”

Siege glances over his shoulder. “Since you’re unlikely to make it out of this room alive, it doesn’t really matter.”

“If you assholes think I’m going to turn on my own club, you’re dumber than you look.”

Rigs turns to stare at him. “You’ll break. They all do.”

Siege notices me and jerks his chin in a greeting. “What’s the plan, boss?” I ask.

Siege states grimly, “I’m not giving the Grave Diggers a chance to get settled in in our town.”

I glare at the Diggers’ president who’s sitting in the chair looking belligerent and unapologetic. “Too right. This fucker and King tried to traffic my woman. I ain’t gonna overlook that shit.”

Rigs walks over and squats down to look him in the face. Rigs was good at what he did. I noticed he was wearing a spit guard on his right arm. The second the man spits in his direction, Rigs lifts the shield.

“If you’re going to get stupid, we can do things the hard way, do we need to muzzle you?”

“Fuck off.”

Rigs backhands him across the face and then speaks calmly. “You should have gone to the doctor when you had the chance instead of letting your medic pack that wound. Gut wounds are serious business. If the internal bleeding doesn’t kill you, the infection will. Reckon you’ve got maybe an hour or two before sepsis kicks in.”

“Got something,” Zen’s voice drifts from the doorway. I glance over to see our tech genius leaning against the door frame with a tablet in his hands scrolling through the information. “Mr. Mark Johnson, better known as Marauder, can’t seek proper medical care for his knife wound because they’ll report his injury to the police. He currently has a warrant out for his arrest in relation to a meth lab that was blown up. The police reported two men were killed execution style just outside the building.”

“I didn’t do it, but the cops will try their damn hardest to pin it on me. You know how corrupt the cops here are,” Marauder spits out.

“Unfortunately, your reputation precedes you. Therefore, I’m not inclined to give much weight to your protestations of innocence. If you make it out of here alive, we’ll see that you make it to a proper medical center.”

“What the hell do you want with me?” The man asks in a pained voice.

Rigs looks him in the eye. “The Diggers can’t stay in Las Salinas. You know that and I know that. The Hounds’ days were numbered and you patching them over makes no difference. Las Salinas is ours.”

The older man tries to wiggle out of the ropes tying his arms and legs to the chair, almost turning the chair over. “We got just as much right to be here as you do. The Hounds all voted for the patch over.”

Our club president walks over, grabs Marauder by his straggly gray hair and jerks his head back. Looking down at him, Siege states menacingly, “By midnight we’ll have almost a hundred and thirty men at our disposal. You can either figure out a way to diffuse this situation, or we’ll fucking wipe you all out.”

“My men are quite capable of dealing with the likes of the Savage Legion. You straight edge clubs are a joke.”

“Yeah, because knocking over liquor stores, running drugs, and trafficking women is such a risk-free way to earn, right?”

Rigs takes a step closer and asks angrily, “You prey on innocent human beings. For money.”

“Not just for money,” our prisoner flings back. “Also because I enjoy it, something you boy scouts wouldn’t know anything about.”

Rigs balls up his fist, but before he can strike, Siege’s fist collides with Marauder’s jaw. He turns and spits a tooth out onto the floor. “Why do you fuckers care what went down between the Hounds and the Diggers. It’s still going to be made up of mostly locals, only with my son in charge. No difference from when the Hounds had the territory.”

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