Page 24 of Beast
Rip took two steps forward and stopped. He had to. If he didn’t appear to challenge me, he would look weak in front of his club. “I ain’t got your family, Beast. It’s best if you and your club turn around and ride out of here before someone dies.” He came closer, and I looked down at him, playing his game. “You dropped two of my club members dead at my front door. I’m missing two others.”
“Goddamnit, Rip, where are they?”
“Not here, Beast.” He motioned toward the Prospect at the gate, and I heard the gate opening. “Get the fuck out of my club.” Outmanned and outgunned, I returned to my bike, glancing at the club’s main building and recognizing the woman watching me from inside. Apparently, Donna was taking a short break before leaving for Cali. She’d hooked up with the wrong man.
“Something the matter, Beast?” Rip asked, walking toward me, much braver since I was on my bike. He glanced back at the building. “Oh, that.” He chuckled. “Seems you couldn’t make her happy, so she came calling. I hope you find your wife and kid, Beast. Be a shame not to.”
Calmly pulling on riding gloves, I shrugged. “You let me know how those sloppy seconds go with the come dumpster you’re fucking.”
We left Hell’s Messengers and started back to the club. If Rip didn’t have Skittles and Mark, then who did?
Two miles from the club, I saw a familiar cleaning van. I waved the others toward the club and followed the van. I wasn’t going to fuck with the guy driving the van. He didn’t deserve it. I took care of people who bothered other people. This guy was an innocent child in a man’s body.
He took a left and headed toward downtown, driving down East Third Ave., past the Jefferson County Jail, a place I’d seen on several occasions. He pulled to the curb in front of a small building. I wouldn’t bother him, but I believed I would bother whoever was in the building, so I waited for him to leave.
Whatever business the young man had inside didn’t take very long. When he left, I pulled to the curb and stood in front of the building. Tinted storefront windows prevented me from seeing inside, and I figured whoever was inside was probably heading toward the back. I wasn’t wrong because when I ran around back, I caught a skinny, pimple-faced guy trying to run.
“Hold up, asshole,” I said, dragging his ass back into the building. The guy didn’t look like he could find his way out of a wet paper bag, much less fight. I didn’t like fighting someone who couldn’t give me a challenge, but I also wasn’t going to run all over God’s green Earth trying to catch them either.
Once he found his legs and stopped hyperventilating, I let go of his neck and pushed him back into the office.
“I’m sorry,” he said. If he started crying, I’d shoot him. I didn’t like men acting like pussies. Grow a fucking pair.
“Sorry for what? How the fuck do you know why I’m here?” I pointed my Glock at him and walked around the room. A rack of computer servers sat in the corner, a hundred different lights blinking green. Two wires went from the servers to the computer at his desk, where four screens were on. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“It’s nothing. Really. I’m just a computer geek.”
He definitely looked the part. He reached for the keyboard, and I raised the Glock. “Touch it, and you’ll never be able to jack that meat to whatever you’ve been watching.”
“I don’t want any trouble, man. I can pay you. Pay you a lot.”
“Damn straight you will.” I moved around the desk. “Get the fuck up and stand in the corner.” He did as he was told, for the most part. “Face the fucking wall.” He paused, and I raised the gun.
I put the gun on the desk and sent a message to Brainiac to get his ass over here. The screens were blank, but I knew he’d been watching something. I reached for the keyboard.
“Please don’t touch anything.”
“You have a name?” I asked.
“Archie Winchester.”
“Well, Archie Winchester, you’ve been stealing shit from my club.” I stood and put the gun to his temple. “I don’t appreciate that.”
“That’s a lot of expensive equipment,” he pleaded. “I can pay you.”
“You got that shit right. You are gonna pay me.” I went to touch the keyboard again, and he begged me not to.
“If you touch that keyboard, it’ll erase everything on those servers. I’ll lose millions.”
I left the keyboard alone, not wanting to lose millions, millions I might need to get Skittles and Mark back.
“The fuck is this,” Diesel said when he entered the office with Brainiac. “Who’s this little pussy.” He grabbed Archie Winchester by the neck and flung him to the floor.
“Archie Winchester from USC?” Brainiac asked. “You motherfucker.” Brainiac grabbed the guy from the floor and hit him once. Archie screamed like a little bitch. When he turned back to us, the cut below his right eye oozed blood. “This is the dipshit who sold me out to the feds.”
“I don’t have time for this shit,” I said. “What the fuck is going on, Archie Winchester?” Brainiac started to touch the keyboard. “Wait. He said it would erase what’s on the servers.”
Brainiac laughed. He held a finger over the keyboard and looked at the guy.
