Page 47 of Clash
“How the fuck did you find me?”
He shrugged. “I followed you out of the clubhouse. Wanted to talk to you without anyone else around, clear the air. I guess it’s a good thing I did, you’d be dead right now if I didn’t.”
He was expecting me to thank him. I probably should, but it’s not my style.
“You do realize that was Officer Hadley, right? You just killed a cop, fucker.”
Snyder took out his phone, firing off a text. “Clean up will be here in five.” He looked around, there was nothing on this road, not even houses. It’s why I liked it so much. “The fucker had itcoming,” he stated, kicking the dead officer’s foot. “Besides, he tried to kill my brother, and I wasn’t about to let that happen. Who would I have to argue with if you were gone?”
Fuck, why did he have to make me laugh? Now everything in my body was aching even more.
“Don’t make me laugh, asshole. I think I broke some shit.”
A van pulled up a few minutes later, and Skid hopped out, along with Poison and the three new prospects, Gideon, Kody, and Joaquin.
Without instruction, Joaquin got a tarp, bringing it over to place around the cop.
“Kody, put on some gloves and dispose of his vehicle. There’s a chop shop over on thirty-fifth street that will do it for free. They owe me a few favors. Just tell them Joaquin Jones sent you. Gideon, help me lift the body, and let’s wrap this fucker up. I know a guy who knows a guy that owns an incinerator. I’m sure he’d love to roast some pig on this fine Friday morning. You okay, VP? You look a bit banged up.”
Who the fuck is this guy?
Snyder looked pleased with our new prospect. But I was still having doubts, questioning his strange knowledge of body disposal, and the way he took over without waiting for instruction. The man definitely was used to being in charge.
“Skid, call Zeppelinand get his ass over here, then go with the two prospects to dispose of our piggy problem. Poison go with Kody. Take Clash’s bike, he’s going to be riding with me,” Snyder ordered, finally taking over the conversation. “The fucker probably can’t even stand up—he’s fucking beat to all hell.”
Skid nodded, calling our fellow brother, watching as Kody threw on some gloves and headed straight for Hadley’s vehicle. Gideon and Joaquin already had Hadley’s body wrapped up and inside the back of the van before I could even blink.
“Make sure you send his widow a care package,” I whispered, moaning when I tried to move to a sitting position. “He was a fucker, and had it out for us, especially me, but she shouldn’t be left floundering because his indiscretions finally caught up to him.”
“Consider it done. And what did you expect, Clash? You fucked his wife and lived to tell the tale. The man had a reason to hate you. We just do it for fun.”
Groaning in protest, a single laugh escaped me, making even more of my body parts wince in pain.Fuck! I really did a number this time.
Ten minutes later, all evidence of Hadley was gone. Skid took off with Gideon and Joaquin, and Poison took off after Kody, following him on my bike that was otherwise unscathed.Thank fuck.
Zeppelin showed up a few minutes later in a cage, and after both of them helped me into the back seat, my injuries more than Zeppelin could handle, we were back on the road, Zeppelin driving, and me staring daggers at the man who saved my life.
I really should be more grateful, but my ego is feeling spiteful today.
“You know, you could thank me for saving your life, Clash,” Snyder said, grinning wide.
“It’s hard to be thankful when no one would’ve given a shit, anyway.”
“That’s not true,” Snyder argued, his voice raising. “We all care about you, Clash, probably more than you do us.”
He was probably right. But would I let him know that? Fuck no.
“Why was Hadley going to kill you, anyway? Usually he just fucks with you, this time he was out for blood. What did you do to him?”
Glaring, I sat up a little straighter in the seat, eyes narrowing in on him. “What makes you think it was my fault? Maybe he just had it out for me today?”
Snyder’s blue eyes sparkled, his smile widening. “Call it a hunch. Where Clash goes, trouble follows.”
He wasn’t wrong about that either. Just ask Gina. She had every right to hate my fucking guts. It’s why I was embracing death instead of fighting it.
“Shut the fuck up.”
“Seriously, fucker, what did you do?”
