Page 90 of Jack

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Chapter 42

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Jack

Don’t take a helicopter ride across the country. Just don’t. Trust me. Choppy was putting it mildly. However, our plans didn’t allow for a nice, sweet commercial flight. Flying coach is better than this.

Dobson’s connections at our little county airstrip and all the private ones along the way were exactly what we needed to get into California quietly. Drew was waiting for us at a small airstrip outside the city. We could be in the desert for all I know. We rode for over an hour. Drew didn’t take us to his clubhouse. We’re hiding out in one of the safe houses his charter brings angels to when they have a layover in LA.

Rodeo, Jay, Hendrix, and Bankz are with me. My brothers and I slept for about four hours this afternoon so we would be rested for tonight’s hunt. It’s hard to sleep when you’re on a mission.

This one is going to be tricky. We’re in a city with cameras everywhere. The moment LA rose in the distance, I knew this wasn’t my territory. I understand why Dad said to listen to Drew. He has some off requests and instructions. If we want to get out of here, we have to follow them to the letter.

“You do this a lot?” Rodeo asks. Drew just stares at him. “Hunt men through the city, I mean.”

“Not really.” Drew hands us a pair of black gloves. “We have roughed up a few abusers. My job mainly consists of transporting angels in and out.” His eyes meet mine. “I hear you claimed one I carried out.”

“Yeah,” I admit. “Nina brought her to you.”

“We’ll talk about that later.” Drew takes up to an underground garage and flips the light on.

Hendrix whistles when he sees all the bikes lined up on one side. Cars, vans, and trucks are on the other. Wow. Drew’s charter stocked a fleet of vehicles down here. He leads us over to the row of bikes. They’re a mix of Harleys and crotch rockets.

“You know how you wanna handle this?” Drew asks me.

“Not like the last one.” Jay walks over to one of the Harleys.

He’s right. The last one was messy enough in the country. There’s no way we could pull anything close to that here.

“I don’t care how we do it. I just don’t want him coming after Lily again.” The last flower delivery is proof he won’t stop until he kills her.

We had to use Lily’s real name at the hospital. We should have gotten her a fake ID weeks ago. Once again, it’s where I failed her. We didn’t have her social security number. Somehow, the hospital found it in their system, maybe because she was a nurse. Nick thinks Clark’s dad had Lily’s name and social security number flagged, and that’s how he knew she was in the hospital. Or the Mavericks could have told him since they were helping him.

“Leave it to me.” Drew walks over to the first crotch rocket and takes the license plate off. “Leave the Harleys. Pick another ride.”

Jay looks heartbroken. The way Bankz’s eyes dance as he walks around a Ducati, he may ask it to marry him. After removing all the plates, we suit up head to toe in black. It’s fine with Jay and me. It’s what we wear nearly every day. It’s weird turning our cuts inside out and wearing a plain black jacket over them, but we do it.

“All right, brothers. Joel Clark is a cocky douche who thinks nobody can touch him because his old man’s a cop. His dad is a dirty cop, so that’s close to being true. We can’t get near him at his job or his house.

“Every Thursday night, Mr. Clark meets his friends at a bar for dinner and drinks. He leaves between eleven and one. We’ll be waiting for him at the back of the parking lot. He doesn’t like parking near the front. We’ll have some fun with him first and wait for him to run. There are no mics in these helmets, so follow my lead.” Drew starts up his bike and leads us out of the garage.

He's got some great intel on Clark. His plan concerns me. What does fun mean to him exactly? And why do we want Clark to run? This is going to be a disaster.

The ride through the city streets is a nightmare. Give me a country road and let go. Thankfully, we turn off the main streets and move to smaller neighborhoods. It’s still too much traffic for me.

Sure enough, we find Joel Clark at a local bar with his friends. We watch and wait for an hour and a half. Most of his friends have left. Clark shows no sign of leaving any time soon.

“You sure about this?” I ask around 12:45 am.

“Just wait. He sets an alarm on his phone to ensure he leaves on time. After all, he has a big boy job and has to get to work inthe morning. If this were Friday or Saturday night, we wouldn’t be here.”

“Uh, Drew.” Rodeo turns his back to the building and points to his chest with his thumb. He’s signaling at something behind him. I see nothing out of place. “There’s a camera across from us.”

I drop my head. As long as we’ve been waiting on the edge of the back parking lot, someone somewhere knows we’re here. I’m surprised the cops haven’t shown up already.

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