Page 12 of Enforcing the Rules

Memphis and I took the jump drive back to the clubhouse and walked into Rock’s office. He was behind his desk, and Darko sat in a chair facing him.

Rock surged to his feet. “What’d you find out?”

“He got away with the entire weekend’s take. That lazy bitch never took the deposits to the bank.”

“How goddamn much?”

“Sixty-two grand.”

Rock swept a hand across his desk, sending everything on it to the ground with a roar. I didn’t blame him one bit. When he got himself under control, he pointed at Darko. “She’s done. Understand?”

“Absolutely. I’ll find a replacement.”

Then Rock immediately called Church.

Ten minutes later, we all gathered around a laptop and watched the attack. We could see what happened in the hall, but there was no camera in the office itself, so we only had Trixie’s account of what happened in there to go on.

Not long after the Cherry Bomb opened, a green Ford Escort pulled into the lot and then appeared on the camera at the rear of the building. It sat a long time, before a man got out. He wore a ballcap, but even with that, it was still obvious it was the Dude.

We’d all started calling him that not long after Rock hired him to do our taxes. He was a dead ringer for the guy who starred in the movie The Big Lebowski.

We used to think it was funny. Now I wanted to kill the man.

Night Train’s pickup pulled up at the back door, and we saw him climb out, Hondo jumping down with him, wagging his tail.

I wanted to scream at him to pull his gun, but of course I couldn’t.

It was hard to watch Night Train’s ambush on the camera in the hall, but I force myself to watch, hoping to catch something we may have missed at the strip club.

Charlie Cochran, aka The Dude, was holding a bag that looked like the one Trixie used to make the deposit. It bulged with what I assumed were stacks of cash.

This was the first time Memphis and I, as well as Rock and my brothers all watched the attack. I glanced at my president and saw his jaw tighten. He stood behind his chair, his hands on the leather back. They clenched into white-knuckled fists.

I looked around at the others. Darko, our VP. T-Bone, our Sgt at Arms. Trez, Rock’s son and our Road Captain. Baja, our Treasurer, and Wildman, our Secretary.

Every one of them looked ready to kill.

We watched the Ford speed out of the lot moments before Tiny found Night Train slumped against the wall. Night Train shoved him away and cradled his limp dog, staggering out the backdoor to his pickup truck.

Rock slammed the laptop shut and shoved it across the table to Baja, our computer expert. “Check all of yesterday’s files. Let me know what you find.”

“Yes, sir.”

Rock pounded his fist onto the table. “I want him. Find him. Bring him here. I want our money, and I want that asshole strung up. I will cut him to pieces and let him bleed out.”

I’d seen Rock pissed before, like when his daughter was taken, or his current ol’ lady threatened. I knew he was serious about every single word.

“Go!” he roared.

The room emptied, but I hung back, along with Darko.

Rock looked up at me and snapped, “What is it?”

“How’s Night Train?”

He dragged a hand down his jaw, as if he was sorry he’d bitten my head off. I let it roll off. I knew he was stressed. We all were.

“Doc took him to his clinic. Did a chest X-ray. Said he’s gonna be okay. He’s resting in my room.

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