Page 9 of In Too Deep

Opening it, I see right away images of the club members individually. Mug shots of them that would have been taken at the police station when they were charged with something. Underneath each photo is their name, then in brackets, their MC name.

Flicking through the photos, I catch sight of an image that must have been taken under surveillance. Photos show Vinney talking to a man wearing a suit at a warehouse. Looks like they’re exchanging something. I turn to the next photo, which shows Vinney shaking the man’s hand while the other members of the RBMC are storing something in the back of a black SUV. Two large men wearing dark glasses hold open the van’s doors. Other photos show the men outside their clubhouse on phones, with women, but as I turn to the next few images, my stomach churns.

There’s a photo of a woman lying dead, blood streaming from her mouth. She’s naked and covered in bruises. I’ve seen dead bodies in my time, but nothing quite like this. Others show a dead man on the bank of a river, looking bloated, obviously from water drowning his lungs. Blade slashes are on his chest, making marks I can’t comprehend. More images of dead bodies go on and on. I shut the folder, unable to look anymore.

How in the hell does Theresa deal with this daily? You have to have the stomach for it.

“Was all this done by the RBMC?” I ask to clear my throat before drinking my coffee.

Ben is the one to reply, “Yes. That’s what we think. However, we just haven’t been able to prove it. You need to know exactly what you’re getting yourself into. This is no joke, Cole. This is some serious shit, and once you’re in there, we can’t help you. It’s all on you. If, at any time, you want out, you let us know. You need to understand, though, that you will then be put into protective services, and life as you once knew it will no longer exist. Cole, do you understand what you’re getting yourself into?”

I inhale, and my gaze moves from Ben to Theresa, who has hope in her eyes. Hope that I can’t let fade.

Nodding, I say, “I understand.”

“Are you sure about that? Because once you’re known to them, there’s no turning back.”

“I get it.”

“Okay, well then, let’s give you the rundown.”

We spend the next hour discussing the Royal Bastards and how the club began. It seems that over the years, the Royal Bastards have grown in numbers and are an unstoppable force with chapters all around the world. According to Ben, once a year, there is a catch-up between all chapters.

The Royal Bastards founding chapter was built by President Bulldog Jameson in Port Townsend, Washington. Bulldog died in 2012, leaving his son Elrik to take over. Ben explains the Royal Bastards creed, which is the law they abide by in the biker world, and how Elrik’s most trusted friends and acquaintances are given the privilege to have their own chapter, which is how Vinney became President of the Royal Bastards in Toronto. According to sources, Elrik is all about loyalty to the club. He has trust issues and is very apathetic.

“Something just doesn’t make sense,” I state. “If Elrik is all about loyalty and trust to the Royal Bastards MC, then how does Vinney get away with all these killings and not pay the price of losing his patch and his colors?”

“We have no idea, and with Vinney in the limelight on the news, Elrik’s gotta be pissed,” Theresa explains.

Theresa continues to describe each of the members in the Toronto chapter and explains exactly where the clubhouse is and how protected it is, with a steel gate securing the front.

The bar they hang out at, which I already found out on the internet last night, and where the whores they like to visit are located.

Ben gives some examples of what I can do to get noticed and possibly become a club member.

Theresa pulls out a piece of paper from the yellow envelope with images of the RBMC in ranks like an organizational chart. It’s displayed in a way where the president sits at the top of the chain, then underneath is the vice president, followed by the road captain, sergeant at arms, treasurer, and secretary. Then, all the other club members fit in underneath.

“Take this home and study it. You need to know who you’re dealing with.”

“And who not to piss off,” Ben adds.

Nodding, I fold the paper and place it into my back pocket.

“Oh, one more thing… this is who you are now.”

She hands me a card which is my new driver’s license. My image is the same. However, my name and address are totally different.Seth Hawkins.

I speak the name to see how it sounds on my lips. “Seth Hawkins.”

“That’s right, that is your new name from now on. You need to get used to it,” Theresa explains.

Looking down at the ID again, I ask, “What address is this?”

Ben answers, “It’s your new apartment, well, for now anyway, just until this is all over. You can’t stay in your current household. They will follow you, and you don’t want them in your personal life. Anything you once knew about Cole Brennan no longer exists. This is your new life now.”

Ben taps the ID, and I look over at Theresa.

“Who is Seth Hawkins?”