Page 2 of Devil's Betrayal

“What’s wrong with that, is these are not just any Russians. They’re mafia and I know they aren’t here just to gamble. Something ain’t right and after the year we’ve had, I don’t need any surprises.”

I know a little more about the men but I don’t want to worry the guys until there’s something to worry about. My only goal isto get a feel for their presence and if they are here to do more than gamble, then we’ll proceed. Too many times in the past we’ve struck without a plan and doing that has cost us more than I care to remember.

“We should probably set up a meeting and get a feel for what they want.” Hammer suggests.

“I thought about that but these types aren’t big on inquiries into their business. We’ll need to show them that they can’t come to our town and cause trouble! I’ve called in the Devils from the Washington chapter and they’ll be here this weekend to make sure these fuckers stay in their place. In the meantime, Bane, I want you to take the prospects, hang around the Fuzzy Peach and see how many men they bring and how often they’re coming.”

“You got it Prez,” Bane replies as I’m about to adjourn the meeting. It’s been a long day and I’m ready to go home. A few years ago, I purchased a property thirty miles north of the clubhouse. Too many parties, too much booze, and too much pussy has taken its toll and although I do enjoy a few shots of Bardot’s Whiskey, I don’t need a party or pussy to enjoy it. Franklin Bardot, God rest his soul, was one of my best friends. Tragically he took his own life after his secrets got the best of him. Eagle aka Gideon, president of the Rebel Souls and Franklin’s adopted son found out some of his father’s secrets from yours truly.

The Rebels and Devils have been rivals for many years and sometimes that rivalry turned deadly. We’ve done some fucked up shit to each other and back when things were really hot, no pun intended, we set fire to MoMa’s their hangout spot in Iron Forge, when they couldn’t mind their own business. We were more ruthless back then and not proud of some of the things we’ve done but the rivalry between the Rebels and Devils has calmed down a bit. When we helped rescue little Harper, Eaglesaid they owe us one. So, if this thing with the Russians goes sideways, we can call on the Rebels to help us bust some skulls if need be. Over the years, I’ve learned some valuable lessons and some of those were the hard way, but that’s the life I chose and I have to live with the choices I’ve made. Now, I’m ready to settle down and there’s one woman I have my sights set on.

I’ve kept my distance far too long and I’m no longer willing to deny myself. We’re both older now and this has been a long time coming. I’m just not sure how I want to approach her. She should be off limits but despite all the women I’ve been with and even being married at one time, Camille Bardot has always been the one for me. I should’ve never let her go and I damn for sure shouldn’t have let her marry Franklin. She didn’t know him like I knew him. He had plenty of secrets that ultimately destroyed his family. Although Eagle and I have somewhat of a truce, I don’t think he would take too kindly if he knew I had a thing for his mother. Sometimes I wonder if she’s ever told him about our history or am I part of her past that she wants to forget. I’ve never forgotten about her and it’s high time she knew it.

2

Micah

Pulling up to my house, I notice my half-brother’s bike in the garage and I let out a heavy sigh. I’m not in the mood for Templar’s holier than thou bullshit tonight. He’s always welcomed in my home, hell, he even has keys to come and go as he pleases. But after the day I’ve had, I just want some time to clear my head and not think about anything concerning the club, particularly Ezra and his bullshit; Where all I’m thinking about is drinking an ice-cold beer before it gets warm. As soon as I open the door the smell of jalapeno cornbread and spicy chili hits me causing my stomach to respond with a loud rumble. Fuck, I forgot to eat today and instead of heading to the solitude of my bedroom, I head straight for the kitchen. Templar’s tall figure looms over the stove as he stirs the food and I can’t help but breathe in the delicious aroma. He may be the most irritating fucker on the planet, but no one and I mean no one can cook better than he can.

Shrugging out of my kutte, I hang it on the hook by the back door and walk over to the sink. If I don’t wash my hands in “hot as I can stand it” water after being outside all day, he’ll have something to say about it. It’s one of those things I’ve learned over the years where I would rather do as he says or subject myself to an hour lecture on the importance of washing my hands like I’m about to perform surgery. Templar feels like he is responsible to right all the wrongs in the world no matter how minor. If he feels it’s wrong or out of place, he’s going to fix it or die trying. Grabbing a paper towel, I make quick work of drying my hands and sit at the table. Breathing a heavy sigh, I rub the back of my neck trying to relieve some of the stress that has caused a mild headache to surface which I know has grabbed Templar’s attention.

“What’s going on with you, big brother?” He inquires as he sits a big bowl of chili in front of me causing my stomach to groan. Scooping up a heaping spoon, my reaction is a mixture of moans and hisses as the first bite hits my tongue. The food is fresh out of the pot and I don’t even bother waiting for it to cool, I dive right in needing to feel something other than the frustration of my day. Templar loudly clears his throat, staring daggers at me as he sets a plate of cornbread next to my bowl. Knowing what this is about, I place the spoon in the bowl and bow my head to thank the good Lord for this bountiful feast that will cleanse my soul. He must be satisfied with my quick prayer because he walks back over to the stove and fixes his own bowl. Butter drips down my hand as I take a huge bite of homemade cornbread.

“What makes you think something’s wrong?” I answer, circling back to his question after swallowing my food.

“Well, you didn’t speak when you came in and you have some energy rolling off of you that’s sucking the joy outta the room. Plus, you look like you got the weight of the world on yourshoulders. Do I need to go down to the clubhouse and have a talk with your men again?”

“The last time I let you have a talk with them you beat Ezra over the head with your bible and wanted to purge his demons. So, no I don’t need you to talk with them.” I state, chuckling at the memory of Ezra screaming for his life trying to get away from Templar. He had him by the neck calling on God to rain down hell fire and send Ezra’s demons back to the pits of hell.

“Okay, then, spill it!”

Taking a deep breath, I place my spoon next to my bowl and pause to gather my thoughts. Templar is more of an honorary member of the Devils. My half-brother may be younger than I but he’s full of wisdom and if I’m being honest, he’s sort of my conscience when I’m in deep thought about something. With me feeling the need to settle down, he’s been the one guiding me along the way to make sure the transition is smooth. I’m more of a “rip the band aid off” kind of guy. Templar reigns that in so that I don’t appear to be such an asshole and he makes sure that I’m being fair to everyone involved.

“As you know, we’ve been bringing in a good amount of cash from the gambling ring we allow at the Fuzzy Peach. Well, for the last couple of months, Hammer and I have noticed a few new players frequenting the games.” Templar doesn’t necessarily agree with our methods but he understands we have to make cash.

“Isn’t that just more money for the club?”

“Yes, it is more money but Gus said that he’s been hearing rumors of them asking questions about the games like if women are allowed, are there security guards, what’s the buy in, etc. Seems really suspicious. Plus, Phantom did some digging after recognizing one of the players while he was there the other night.”

Silas “Phantom” Mitchell is our hacker and he’s so good at finding out who people are that he can tell you what brand of toilet paper someone uses. He has a photographic memory and as soon as he told me that he recognized one of the Russians, I knew it wouldn’t be long before I knew all I needed to know about them.

“What exactly did Phantom find out?” Templar asks.

“Apparently, Sergei Torshin is a high-ranking boss in a Bratva out of Kyiv. They’re mostly into high powered weapons that he obtains and sells to the highest bidder. He has several warehouses situated around the country and he’s on the FBI’s watchlist. What he’s doing in Grants Pass, is the question.”

“Maybe he’s just looking for some peace and quiet.” Templar half-heartedly suggests.

“Men like him ain’t looking for peace and quiet. They’re always looking for trouble and I’m not in the mood for trouble. I have some of the guys hanging out in and around the club to see what Torshin is up to. Hopefully, it’s nothing and I can retire in peace.”

“What are you going to do about Ezra? That boy has got some real demons that won’t settle down. Between him and Zeke, you’ll stroke out before you ever get a chance to retire.”

“I plan on talking to him one on one to see what his problem is. Zeke has calmed down some since almost getting killed. He’ll be back in a couple of weeks and I’m pretty sure he’s not trying to ruffle any feathers after being so close to death. He’s hanging on by a thread after pulling that shit with Torch and Lizzie.”

“Looks like you got your hands full brother. If you need me to come down there, I will. You know I’m always willing to direct their paths and get them back on track.”

“Thanks, brother. I appreciate you letting me bend your ear. If I need your help, I’ll let you know.”

We eat in companionable silence but my mind is still racing with questions. Why is a Bratva in Grants Pass, Oregon playing in a small gambling ring? It just doesn’t make any sense. Tomorrow is a new day and hopefully I’ll find out what the fuck is going on. One thing’s for sure, if they’re here to start trouble, I’ll go down in a blaze of glory before I let them take over my town.

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