Page 33 of The Sins Of The Biker

“Yes, we need that fucker dead. He’s gotta pay for killing my old man.”

“So, you’re giving the order to kill Pedro and his men?”

Inhaling, I nod my head. “Yeah, I guess I am. Kill the fuckers.”

***

The ride home is quiet.

We stop for a while, sleep at the same motel, and get up in the morning and continue.

Tom was the one to shoot Pedro and the others while Curly, Stanford, and Snake watched on.

Wave and I stood out front. There was no need to witness the kill. I trust my men to take care of the job. I, however, want to be the one to kill Harrison. I want that death on my hands.

Revenge…

… it will be bittersweet.

We pull up at the Dice Bar, parking our bikes out front. Security opens the doors for us, no questions asked.

The music is blaring, and the ladies are pole dancing on the stage as my eyes stake the room.

Stanford searched for the name Harrison to see what might turn up. Somehow he can break into the police database and look up people who have a record, which we now know Harrison has.

His full name is Beau Harrison. He has a buzz cut, a solid build, and a scar on his right cheek.With that type of information, he shouldn’t be too difficult to find here.

We each split up to find Harrison but have no luck.

Where the fuck is he?

With the image of him on my phone, I stride up to the bar and yell out for the bartender to come over.

He does with a smile. “What will it be?”

“Corona.”

He nods, then steps away, grabs the beer, and hands it to me. Reaching for my cash, I slide it over to him on the bar and ask, “You seen this man?”

The bartender glances between the photograph and me, worry clear on his face.

“Have you?” I repeat, growing impatient.

Wave and the others join me at the bar.

“Um… he usually hangs out here, but I haven’t spotted him recently.”

The man jumps when I slam my fist on the bar.

“How about his crew? Have you seen any of his crew around?”

He shakes his head. “Nope, they all disappeared a few weeks ago.”

Taking a breath to keep my temper in check, I glance at Wave. “Fuck! So what now?”

“We gotta keep digging. Don’t worry, Prez, we’ll find him. You have my word.”

“Yeah, we will,” Stanford agrees. “We know where the fucker lives, remember?”

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