Page 53 of Hounds Ascend
Cass
Scott, Clayton, and I fire up and get on the road. Scott had gotten the contact information for Ghost and got in touch with him, letting him know we’d be seeing him this evening. He didn’t give an exact time, but he doesn’t need one. He’s going to be where he is all evening. See, Ghost had been burned by the Moccasins, but unlike most people, Ghost is patient. He didn’t need immediate revenge. He’s the type to wait ten…fifteen years before he ever went after a personal target. His time is taken up by paying customers and their not-so-great friends that they wanted to rid the world of.
When Clayton learned what we had planned, he wanted in, and wasn’t going to accept no for an answer. Besides, Clayton will be a good asset to have with us. He may be getting older, but his senses are still sharp. The ride is short, but the temperature outside is steadily dropping. It’s almost cold enough for leather…almost.
We turn down a long, blacktop driveway that winds through the woods until an opening appears. A small log cabin sits neatly with a motorcycle and a truck parked in the driveway. Lights shine from the two windows in the front onto the front porchthat runs the length of the cabin. One lone wooden rocking chair sits on the porch beside a small table, empty.
“Welcome, boys.” The voice comes from behind us near the wood line.
“Damnit!” Clayton jumps, looking behind him. We’ve only just stepped off our bikes and Ghost catches us by surprise. He has a good reason for his name, that was for sure.
“Thanks for the warm welcome,” I say, walking over to shake his hand.
Ghost chuckles and steps into the light. He isn’t a very tall man. He’s shorter than I am, with dark brown eyes and hair. He’s in his early forties, but he’s the best at what he does. He’ll probably still be doing this shit at eighty, andstillwill be the best there is.
“I was out making my rounds around the property when I heard y’all pulling in. Had to come scope ya out first. Not my fault you didn’t hear me,” he grins, definitely pun intended.
“That’s why we’re here. You’re the best. I’ve only ever heard of you up until now. It’s a pleasure.”
“Come in. Let’s talk over a cup of coffee.” Ghost walks ahead of us, leading the way into the cabin.
Inside, the walls are identical to the outside. The dinner table is a light-brown wood. It appears to be homemade, along with the four chairs that surround it. Whoever made it was talented. I admire the intricate designs that are engraved on the sides of the chairs and the center of the table.
“Nice work, here. You make these?” I ask, intrigued.
“Years ago, before I got too busy taking lives, I used to enjoy woodwork.”
“Looks like you were pretty good at it,” Scott comments.
“I used to be. Hell, I wouldn’t know now. Haven’t touched a saw in years.” A sadness sparkles in his eyes as he turns around to fix four cups of coffee. One by one, he sets them down at the table, then he takes a seat in the last empty chair.
My phone vibrates in my pocket. Gater’s name lights up on my screen. This should be good.
“Excuse me for a moment, I have to take this.”
I slide the answer bar as I walk out the front door.
“You either have a death wish or an explanation. I’m going to go out on a limb here and say it’s the latter,” I bark as I close the door behind me.
“I’m outside of your house right now. I just brought the guns to the prospects and members guarding our ol’ ladies.” Gater sounds apologetic.
“Is there any specific reason I didn’t know about this beforehand and why you didn’t feel like it needed to be discussed with me?”
“You’ve been busy with all this shit going on. I didn’t want to bother you with it, man.”
“Didn’t want to bother me with it? You took a fucking shit ton ofourillegal weapons out of the clubhouse and haven’t been seen nor heard from all day!” I roar.
“You’re not the only one allowed to make decisions for this club. Thatiswhy you appointed me VP, to help you makedecisions and to make decisions in your absence, isn’t it?”
“That’s not the fucking point! If weapons are leaving the clubhouse, I need to know about it. End of story. We’ll discuss this at church this week, I’ve got other shit to handle right now. Oh, and Gater…mind your P’s and Q’s, it’s real easy to get a patch stripped, VP or not.” I don’t wait for a response before I hang up and slide my phone back into my pocket.
I return to my seat at the table as Clayton, Scott, and Ghost are talking about different jobs Ghost has done, but as I sit down, their conversation dies down. Ghost glances over at me with a curious expression.
“Who is it, exactly, that I’m targeting in that sad excuse for an MC?” He raises his black cup of coffee to his lips, taking a gulp. “Not that I much care, they can all rot in hell as far as I’m concerned.”
“That’s the million-dollar question. I need a little more information on who’s leading their little charades before I set a bullseye on anyone. I have a damn good idea, though.” I’m almost certain it was Asher. Hewasthe president, after all.
“I can tell you who is in charge,” Ghost says, smugly.
