Page 39 of Broken

“What is it?” Colt asked.

“The Evil Fuckers MC land has just been taken bythe cops. Two dead bodies have been found on that land.”

“Shit,” Colt said.

“Let me guess, the two drivers who are supposed tobe delivering our stuff?” Dirty asked.

“Yeah.”

“We’ve got security footage on that land,” Crowsaid. “Do they even know that?”

Warden clicked his fingers. “You and Colt, gocheck the security footage in the past twenty-four hours. Crow, you’re withme.”

Dirty made his way back to his bike. The securitydetail for the Evil Fuckers MC land was not at the clubhouse, but at theirwarehouses, manned by one of their best computer experts. Fritz was a red-haired,very skinny, twenty-nine-year-old, who had been trying to get into theclubhouse for the past eleven years. It didn’t matter how much food the kidate, or the weights he tried to pull, he couldn’t put on any weight nor anymuscle. The truth was, the kid was a bit of a disaster. He couldn’t fight, andsparring with him was deadly. The man was a klutz. He also couldn’t shoot.

When he was handed a gun for fun and targetpractice, Dirty didn’t know how it happened, but he somehow managed to shootRooster in the ass.

For Fritz’s own safety, he wasn’t given a gun. Hewas a disaster in all fields, but he was loyal. Even when pressured by thecops, or even one of their own, he didn’t cave, and for that, Warden and theclub were impressed. Where some of the hardest men had buckled under pressure,Fritz hadn’t.

Warden tested them all. The club needed toguarantee the loyalty of every brother, so there was no doubt who had theirback and who didn’t.

Fritz was starved, humiliated, and beaten. All hehad to do was recite the small secret on the piece of paper, and he would havebeen saved. There would have been no club, and he would have been tossed on hisass, but he didn’t cave.

It was Warden’s final test. The piece of papersimply had an insult about one of the club brothers that had pissed Warden offat the time. With Fritz, it had been his own son saying Colt had a little dick.As far as Dirty was aware, even now Fritz hadn’t uttered that single word.

Heading out to the warehouse, they each had acode. Again, the protection detail that Fritz had set up. The gates opened, andhe and Colt parked their bikes.

Dirty didn’t like the feeling he was getting andas he climbed off his bike, he reached for his gun.

“You’ve got that feeling as well?” Colt asked.

“It hasn’t stopped.”

“I’m the same.”

They looked around, and there was nothing out ofplace.

“It’s because we know they’re close.”

“That has to be it,” Dirty said.

Neither of them stopped holding their gun as theymade their way inside to where Fritz was in front of multiple computer screens.They had the clubhouse set up, the diner, and he was even hacked into thetown’s main security feed. Ever since the Evil Fuckers MC had disappeared,Warden wanted sight of everything.

He couldn’t blame the man. Dirty had no doubtwhoever was left would blame them for the death of their club. Technically,that was correct. Colt did kill Daemon, but it was Daemon that was already on awarpath with his own club for accidentally killing Gabrielle. There was no waythis shit could even be written, yet that was the life he lived.

“Hey, guys,” Fritz said, spinning around to lookat them. “What’s going on?”

It was rare for any of them to come to thewarehouse, unless they had instructions from Warden.

“Warden sent us. We need you to access all thesecurity footage for the last twenty-four to forty-eight hours,” Colt said.

“Any specific place?”

“Evil Fuckers MC compound.”

Fritz spun back around and began typing away atthe computer. Within a matter of seconds of his mad typing, the screens infront of them began to change footage. Once he accessed the areas, he began torewind the footage.

Dirty took a step closer. “Would you know if youwere under surveillance?”

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