Page 51 of The Lies We Tell
And if I’d told them, then this gig would be over. And if it were over, I’d be out of the loop on what was being done to find the men who abducted Briar. This way, by staying, I can be a part of the solution.
Plus, I’m pissed at Davis. If they’d hit the club, it would have been a huge win for our department, and I don’t want to see Davis’s smug face taking credit.
Spark and I step into the clubhouse. Smoke hovers precariously close to the ceiling from all the cigarettes, and loud rock pounds through the speakers. There’s food and drink, something that tells me the club’s old ladies were here earlier setting all this up. But they aren’t here now. Tonight’s for the boys.
Spark is reading something on his phone but looks up when Whip, the sergeant at arms of Allentown, calls his name and slaps his back. “Long time no see, brother,” he says.
Spark grins. He told me they’ve been friends for years. “Way too long. I’ve not seen you since I got back from Afghanistan.”
Whip studies Spark for a moment. “Don’t envy you. That evac looked horrific. Heard about what happened. You good?”
It’s a question I’ve been wanting Spark to answer honestly since I’ve grown to know him. I know too many good servicepeople who never conquer the demons they bring back from war with them. I don’t like the idea that Spark could be one of them.
“Hits different when it goes that wrong,” Spark says.
There is so much unspoken in his answer. He’s never really spoken about the bombing at Abbey Gate in Kabul that he was involved in. I only know from the tattoos that cover his back. A guy doesn’t get an altar to his friends inked on his skin if he doesn’t feel that shit deep.
Whip grips Spark’s shoulder. “That it does.” Noticing me standing behind Spark, he extends his hand. “Saint. Good to see you. Hear you’re busy saving trafficked women.”
Briar’s face flashes to mind. She’s smiling. “I’ll take it. Bastards had done a right fucking number on her. She shivered the whole time she was on the back of my bike.”
“You know who it was?” Whip asks.
Spark nods. “We think it’s the Righteous Brotherhood.”
“Shit.” Whip shakes his head as he finishes his beer. “Those fuckers are up in our faces too.”
“Yeah, we tracked a truck back to Bethlehem,” Spark says.
“Not surprised. I think they want to take the East, one state at a time. Keep getting caught up in territory disputes with them. We think they’re getting close to a local Russian group, trying to cause instability. Real insurrectionist shit.”
I can’t help but think they might be bigger than we estimate. If they are insurrectionists, and partnering with the Russians,andtrafficking women. Or perhaps that’s part of the deal. Sex trafficking to and from Russia isn’t infeasible. I make a mental note to follow that lead.
“You might want to hold on to some of those guns from the load we brought,” Spark says.
And now I’m even more relieved I didn’t tell Weicker. What most people don’t realize is the work motorcycle clubs do to keep their towns peaceful. We don’t want drug wars and turf wars and gun wars. We don’t want pedos and traffickers. Because all those things bring police presence. The clubs work behind the scenes to deal with a large share of the unsavoriness.
“I think they might be trying to steal weapons to arm their endeavors,” Spark continues. “Watch who you sell to if you sell on.”
“Good to know, and I’ll propose it. You guys taking them on for the trafficking?” Whip asks.
“Don’t get me started on that shit,” I say. I wish we could do so much more, and I need to convince King. “I’m hitting the shitter before I get mad.”
“King doesn’t give a shit about the women. Just wants to keep the Brotherhood out of Jersey because of what they stand for. Saint wants us to use our access to the docks to actually scout for the women being transported. King thinks that puts the advantage we currently have at risk,” Spark says as I walk away.
I take a leak, then head outside. I need some air. I want to call Briar. My second phone is hidden in the false bottom of a saddlebag on my bike. The need to call her, to check in, burns. What Ishoulddo is pull myself together.
“You good?” King asks as he steps outside.
“Yeah. Gearing up for that,” I say, tipping my chin in the direction of the clubhouse.
King laughs and leans against the wall next to me. He lights a cigarette and blows a ring of smoke into the sky. “Yeah, Wreck sure knows how to throw a party.”
“I need to say something. I can’t deal knowing those guys are trafficking women. I need to do something about it.”
“We did something. We put a tracker on the truck. Vex is watching.”
“It’s not enough.”
