Page 42 of Riggs
Chapter Seventeen
Riggs
"Goddammit." I send a chair flying across the main room of the clubhouse, fucking furious as hell at the events that unfolded on the road home earlier today.
"Cool your shit, brother." Cain sits at the bar, nursing a beer. "Your woman and Piper are in the safest place they can be right now."
I continue pacing the floor. Two days of my men riding the city streets, and the hours Kiwi spent on his computer trying to gain access to any footage that would lead us in the direction of the Savage Outlaw has turned up nothing. We thought we might have had a lead a time or two, but the two men caught on a street light camera proved to be a couple of nonaffiliated bikers.
The rumble of Wick's Harley can be heard rolling on to clubhouse property, so I swing the front door open and step outside into the hot, muggy night air. Looking past Wick, I watch a brown van roll through the gate, with Fender behind the wheel. "Where'd the cage come from?"
Wick looks at me with a shit eating grin. "Borrowed it from a friend." The van rolls to a stop and Fender steps out from behind the steering wheel.
"You'll never guess what we found." Fender rubs his hands together, and the three of us walk toward the back of the vehicle. "Or I should say who," he says.
Reaching out, Wick pulls the double doors open. Inside, with hands tied behind their backs, and feet crossed and taped at the ankles, along with a wide ass strip across their faces, is none other than our ex-club girl Lexi and some short, stocky motherfucker I've never seen before.
"Fender and I decided to ride a little further, just to the other side of Lake Pontchartrain into Slidell. Don't ask me why, just a gut feelin' I had." Lexi's eyes widen with fear before dropping her head. "Found these two in somewhat of a compromising position near the backside of a little mom and pop gas station we pulled up to." Wick continues to explain.
Fender snickers. "Wick here fuckin' snuck up on them with those ninja skills of his, scaring the shit out of her." He starts laughing louder. "She was bobbin' away, and dipshit here never saw a thing. Lexi damn near bit the fucker's dick off when our brother here pressed the barrel of his gun to the fucker's head."
Fender steps inside the back of the van, takes a blade clipped to the inside of his boot and uses it to cut the tape wrapped around Lexi's ankles. He pulls Lexi to the edge of the van opening. "Let's go." He orders. Bent over, Lexi shuffles her feet to the end of the van then stops.
"Get your ass out," I bark, and she jumps out. Wick grips her upper arm when she tries to dart around him. Fender does the same with the biker, and cuts the tape around his ankles, standing him up. The fucker leaps the couple of feet to the ground, his face completely void of any emotion.
"Take them around back," I tell my men.
On the back end of the property, about ten yards from the banks of the river is a solid brick building built on a thick concrete slab. I'm not sure what was housed here in the past, but due to the proximity of the river and the ability to clean away evidence of a questionable nature with a pressure washer, it's the perfect location for interrogation. Wick and Fender do as they are told, dragging them across the yard.
Just as I'm making my way inside the clubhouse to grab the other men a flicker of light gains my attention. Pivoting, I stare toward the gate. Blocking the beam with my hand, I strain to get a look at who is on the other side. My phone rings. "Yeah?"
"How about you take your thumb out of your ass and open this gate." There's a brief pause before the voice adds, "Sir."
I grin. Pulling the app feature up on my screen, I type out the four-digit code, and the gate rolls open, then closes once the bike has cleared. A dark cherry red KRGT-1 rolls up next to me. "I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow, Tequila."
Lifting a helmet the same slick red color as her bike off her head, Tequila tosses her dark hair over her shoulder. "Got to keep you on your toes." Turning off the engine, she swings her long leg over her bike, walks up, and hugs my neck. "So," she pulls her riding gloves off her hands, placing them inside her helmet. "Looks like you have a situation. I think I saw Wick and one of your other men walking a couple of people to the dungeon of doom." She peers around my shoulder in the direction in question, then turns retrieving a duffle bag strapped to the back of her bike.
"Club shit. Come on in and make yourself at home. You know where everything is, and your room is ready for you. Unfortunately, the club is empty besides us men. We had some shit go down over the past forty-eight hours and had to send the women somewhere safe." I walk her inside.
"How about I hang with you and the guys for a while? Just let me throw my shit in the room." Tequila strolls ahead of me heading for the stairs.
"I already told you. We have club shit to take care of. You know the rules," I tell her knowing she's going to ignore every word I say.
"Catch you later, Riggs," she waves over her shoulder as she climbs the stairs. Cain comes strolling in from the kitchen and peers above him as he crosses the floor.
"I thought I heard a familiar voice. I haven't seen her in a while. Thought she wasn't supposed to be here until tomorrow." Cain stops beside me. I turn to him knowing we need to take care of business.
"Come on. Wick and Fender are waitin' out back." I clap him on his shoulder. "Maybe we can get some information out of the fucker they brought us tonight." Turning, he follows me outside and around the building.
Upon entering the shed, Cain and I find Wick and Fender standing off to the side, and our guests of honor roughly five feet apart, tied to chairs, right in the middle of the room. Walking up and standing in front of the biker, I address him first. "Couldn't help but notice your little tattoo there." I glance at the red and black ink on his forearm, yet his eyes stay fixed on my movements as I walk around him. He's running around without a cut, which means there are others in town doing the same. "Must be a fuckin' bunch of pussies if you can't show up for war without hidin' your colors," I goaded him, before ripping the tape off his lips, taking facial hair along with it.
"Fuck you, asshole. You and your men are as good as dead," he spews. Reaching into my cut, I slip on my brass knuckles. "Nice town you got here. Looking forward to taking it from you. Your club whore here is already showing where her new loyalties lie," he sneers, and I reward his shit talking by burying my fist in his face. Blood pours from his mouth. Leaning forward, he spits a few teeth to the floor at his feet. Surging upward, he flings his body at me, only for me to stop his momentum with a blow to his massive gut, dropping him to his knees. Wick walks over, grabs the fucker by the collar of his shirt, and slams his ass back down in the chair.
Taking a few steps, I come to stand in front of Lexi. "And you." I narrow my eyes to slits, fucking mad as hell at her betrayal. "You went runnin' straight to the enemy." I rip the tape from her mouth, causing her to cuss.
"Fucking hell." She stomps her feet at the pain, then lifts her head and glares.
"This is your only chance to use that mouth for more than lies and suckin' cock, girl," I warn her.
