Page 41 of Lost Soul

We take a second to catch our breath before we walk out of church and cross the yard as coolly as we can manage.

I light up a cigarette and watch the fed van along with two cars skid to a stop outside the club entrance where Prez waits, standing on the threshold with his arms crossed.

The back of the van bursts open, four armored officers spill out, and chaos fills the yard.

“Arms up. On the ground,” one of them calls out, and knowing they don’t have shit on us so long as Thorne is still moving we all lower on to our knees, Prez included.

The cigarette still hangs from my mouth as I drop to my chest on to the rough, dusty ground and wait to find out what all this is about.

“We’re looking for Tobias Saunders,” one of them says, his polished boot kicking dust into our faces as he walks a line in front of us. Who in the ever-loving fuck is Tobias Saunders?

“That’ll be me,” Skid says, keeping his hands behind his head as he kneels up. An officer immediately steps behind him and cuffs his hands behind his back while he reads him his rights. It confuses the fuck out of me because I know Skid’s real name, and it sure as hell ain’t Tobias fuckin’ Saunders.

We all watch with the same confusion as he’s loaded into the back of the van and the doors slide shut behind him, and just as quickly as they arrived, the feds leave.

“Your brother’s just brought you about an hour’s head start,” Prez turns to Chop as he speaks, and then everyone else's eyes do the same. “Soon as they run Skid’s prints they’re gonna know he ain’t who he’s saying he is.”

Chop nods in agreement.

“You’re Tobias?” Troj asks Chop.

“I thought all that shit got buried fucking years ago,” Chop replies, brushing his hand through his beard. If it weren't for the fact his younger brother had an equally impressive amount of facial hair, they would never have just pulled that off. There’s a decent age gap between them, the fact Chop keeps himself in shape and Skid looks older than his age sometimes makes us forget that. I just hope it will fool the feds long enough for Chop to get clear.

“It wasn’t legitimate, we got someone on the inside to fiddle the warrant,” Prez says, clearly thinking hard about what to do next.

“Hey, you know I’d have stepped up if I’d had a clue what the fuck was goin’ on,” Troj tells him.

“Sure kid, means a lot, but it wouldn’t have been no good, the crime was committed before you were an itch in your papa’s nut sack. They’d have guessed you were lying.” Chop squeezes his shoulder. “I’ll take a car from the garage and get out of town. Soon as I can, I’ll get a pre-pay and make contact from there. When you see Skid, you tell him I fuckin’ owe him.”

Prez nods, and we all watch, still in shock, as Chop races over to the garage, speeding out moments later in a silver Mercedes that belongs to the club.

“Tac, get hold of Thorne to tell him the coast is clear before the Cheyanne start shooting arrows at him. Nyx go tell Carly what’s gone down, tell her I’m getting hold of Monica the lawyer and that Skid will be back soon,” Prez orders, and Nyx jogs over to his bike and gets right on it, while Tac pulls out his cell.

“Squealer I’ll reach out to our Denver Charter, You, Screw, and Thorne get that stash out of town, I’ll call you with an address in the next couple hours,” he commands, and then he looks to me and Troj. “You two head up to Chop’s lodge. As soon as they realize they got the wrong guy those feds will be back, so make sure there’s nothing for them to add to the heap of shit he’s already in. And if anyone sees ’s Tommy tell him what’s happened and to come to find me.” We both nod, wasting no time, and jumping on our bikes to head up to Chop's lodge.

We let ourselves into Chop's place. Like everyone else around here, he doesn’t lock his doors, this club is built on trust.

“Would you really have done that, stepped up and been prepared to take the shit for another brother when you didn’t even know what it was about?” I ask Troj as we head into Chop's bedroom.

“For sure. I’d fuckin’ take a bullet for any one of your asses,” he tells me, shifting through Chop's wardrobe and pulling out an AK, followed by a machete. “You?”

“You know I’d die for this club.” I crouch down and stretch out my arm to feel around under the bed, locating a handgun between the slats and mattress.

“You ain’t got no outstanding warrants or fake names, do ya?” Troj checks as we move through to check the bathroom.

“Nah man you’re good.” I come back out, winking as I throw him the block of coke I’ve retrieved from the cistern.

“Good, ‘coz I’m too young to die, and this face is far too pretty for prison.” Troj hardly has to stretch to check the top of the wardrobe, he pulls down an old trunk and places it on the bed. When we open it it’s full of sentimental stuff, old photos and documents, the kinda shit I’m surprised a guy like Chop keeps.

“We’ll drop this off at Carly and Skid’s, best let them keep it till he comes back, there might be something in here that will help.” I grab the trunk, and we both make one final sweep before we leave. I managed to balance it on my fuel tank while we ride down to Skid’s cabin, and Nyx is still there when we arrive. He’s sat looking awkward as fuck drinking lemonade at the kitchen table. Nyx wasn’t the best choice of person to break the news that your husband has just been shipped off by the feds, the kid has the social skills of a mosquito.

“You can head off now, we got this,” I tell him, moving straight to Carly and wrapping my arm around her shoulder. Nyx doesn’t have to be told twice. With a tip of his head to Carly, he shoots out of the house before either of us change our minds.

“Why would he do it, Jessie?” Carly asks looking up at me, I’d rather take a punch to the face than have a woman cry around me. I hate it, I never know what to do.

“Hey, it’s Skid, you know what he’s like, he’ll do anything to help someone out. Soon as they realize he ain't Chop, Monica will swoop in and they’ll let him go. It won’t be long. Promise.” I shrug out of my cut and hang it on the back of the chair. “In the meantime, you can make us some lunch and me and Troj will set to work on finishing that decorating Skid’s been bitchin about having to get done.” I look over at the covered furniture and half painted living area.

“We will?” Troj looks up at me from his phone puzzled, and I give him a look that has him shifting up on his feet and taking his cut off too. He gathers up his long hair and ties it on the top of his head. “Come on then, let’s get at it.” He kisses Carly on her cheek. “The things some guys will do to get out of a little decorating, huh?” He picks up the roller that’s been left on the table and manages to get a little chuckle out of Carly.

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