Page 41 of Tav

“That’s not trouble. He just drank the wrong coffee. Besides, the guy is an utter asshole AND we’re pretty sure he’s connected to the trafficking, so I was just going to ask him a few little questions. Nothing more, nothing less.” Pops shrugs, looking as if he’s gained a little confidence in that spiel.

“You do know that accusing an officer of the law of being part of a criminal enterprise is pretty bloody damning, right? And incredibly hard to prove. Are you sure? Do you have any evidence?” She looks toward Marx, who weighs up his options.

“There is a high likelihood he’s involved. We have evidence that he’s currently working with Hammer.” Marx’s eyes flick to me and I give him the barest of nods. “We also have reliable intel that a baby is to be sold in the next week. She’s safe for now, but we need to shut this down,” he answers truthfully.

Wire’s mom pushes her lips out, squints her eyes, and huffs a breath. She stands in the middle of the room, hands on hips, looking very formidable. “If I ignore whatever this is,” she waves toward Pops, Chewy, and Officer Martin, “will you guarantee that you’ll put a stop to this nonsense? Taking babies is hitting too close to home. Hell, I helped out two scared kids yesterday who were almost plucked right off the street!”

“Hold up!” I yell out, “A boy and a girl, the boy had been pistol whipped?”

Her head snaps in my direction. “You know them?”

“They’re my babies! Thank you so much!” I rush up to the woman, wrap my arms around her, and squeeze her tight. “Thank you, from one momma to another,” I whisper to her.

“Anytime, Mama, anytime.”

We pull apart and Wire pulls his momma into his arms. “Thanks, Momma, those kids are Tav’s family.”

“Psh, I would have done it anytime, anywhere. I tried chasing those assholes down, but lost them when they hit the outskirts of town.”

Wire forcefully pushes his mother back from him, staring at her. “What do you mean you chased them down? They were armed! You could have been killed”! Wire carries on berating his momma while she rolls her eyes at us.

He keeps ranting until Remy steps forward and loops her hands around him, resting them on his stomach, leaning her forehead into the middle of his back.

Wire’s momma smiles at Remy before turning to Marx. “I mean it, Marx. You need to get onto these assholes who thinkthey can come into our town and take our babies. But try to do it in a way that won’t blow back on you all. I’m an old woman and don’t have the time to be bailing a clubhouse full of grown men out of jail,”

Marx huffs a laugh, “Yeah, got you Momma,”

She spins toward Pops who snaps to attention, “Sidney, is this plan of yours going to result in another arrest?”

His eyes dart toward Chewy before his shoulders slump. “No ma’am. We’ll be sending him on his way unharmed and in one piece after he wakes from his little nap.”

Her eyes narrow as she assesses the old man, chewing the inside of her lip. When she comes to a decision, she nods once. “Good. Now where’s my grandbaby?”

“Come with me Gigi, I’ll take you to her,” Remy’s dad Flack answers, indicating down the hall. I met the suave older biker earlier this morning when he popped in to say good morning to his daughter.

I have to admit, I find this place more and more surprising. There is definitely more of a family vibe than I was expecting. There were things I knew about the MC. I wouldn’t be worth my PI license if I didn’t run background checks on the members, even if they aren’t nearly as in depth as what the Tombs family can do. I knew that Marx and Rhodie were blood brothers and Rhodie and Rider had been best friends since childhood, as their fathers were original MC members. Almost all the members are vets. Wire was in Rhodie’s unit, Judge and Tank were both stationed at the same place at the same time. Fox and Nitro have been best friends since childhood and served with Switch, and Remy’s people all patched over just recently after disbanding their MC.

“So, am I right in believing that there will be no torturing or murdering of this guy then?” Rider asks, indicating Martin.

“Unfortunately not, BUT we have a plan. We’re going CIA style,” Chewy says, rubbing her hands together. “Boys, to the Rev Room!”

I lean in to Tav, “Do they have an S&M room here?”

He chuckles, his face lighting up. “Hell no! But it’s Chewy’s play on words for her and Rhodie’s interrogation room,”

“Wait, so it’s true? She is an enforcer?” I’ve heard her refer to herself as an enforcer, and Nat mentioned it as well, but I never thought it would be true. She’s a woman and not a patched MC member. Would they really make her an enforcer? And if so, does that mean that she hurts, maims, and kills people too? Could Tav and his family, this family, actually be comfortable with this? Does that mean that maybe, just maybe, Tav won’t be turned off by my hate, my anger, and my willingness to take multiple lives?

Shaking my head along with the thoughts bouncing around in my mind, I follow behind everyone as Tav and Tank lift Officer Martin and carry him out to a shed at the back of the compound, settled away from the clubhouse and the garages. Switch holds the door open for me and gifts me with a wink and a sly smile, as if to say “buckle up,”.

Stepping into the remarkably clean and cheery room, I’m taken aback slightly. I really have to stop expecting MC club stereotypes because this is not the type of enforcer chamber I was expecting. The walls are a soft, relaxing color. There’s a comfy looking couch along one wall, complete with cushions. There’s even a coffee table and is that a platter of snacks?

“Ooh Mama Debs dropped off snacks!” Rider says with delight, swooping in to grab a brownie off the platter and plopping down on the couch.

The coziness of the room is in stark contrast to the shadow board of terrifying tools lined up on the walls. The brothers and Ol Ladies have all crammed into the room, some leaning againstwalls, others lounging on the couch. I move toward Tav and then come to a stop as he pulls on a hazmat suit, much like Pops and Chewy.

“Chewy, no fucking around. What’s the plan? We cannot, I repeat, we cannot torture or kill him.” Marx barks out around a mouthful of shortcake.

“Psh. Making someone bleed isn’t the only way to get information out of someone,” Chewy waves him off. “We’re going retro thanks to my friend who was happy to share some of this with me,” she smiles a creepy grin and Pops claps his hands, rubbing them with glee.

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