“Man—”
“You’re fuckin’ shitting me, right?” he repeated.
“Amends, Snapper,” Throttle muttered.
“Fuck you, Throttle.”
“Not Throttle anymore,” he said.
“You’ll always be Throttle, asshole. And you know why.”
The man flinched, and when he did, Snap caught the fading shiner and the cut in his lip.
He recovered, kept his seat on his bike and held Snapper’s eyes.
“Word’s all over the street, Chew’s comin’ back.”
“And this is your business because . . . ?”
“Because, like it or not, Snapper, Resurrection has got your back.”
Snap’s body shot straight.
“This is me tellin’ you,” Throttle said. “Hopefully Chew won’t notice us. But the boys voted, we know the slate can’t be cleaned, we still wanna make amends so we’re gonna have your back.”
“We do not need Bounty’s bullshit protection.”
“Not Bounty and not protection. More eyes, Snapper. That’s it. More eyes. More ears. We aren’t asking, but we’re listening. And you won’t see us. He won’t see us. We won’t be in our cuts or on our bikes. We got jobs, women, kids, we can’t be everywhere all the time. But we’ll be where we can and when we are, no one can tail your ass without you knowing if he’s got a tail on his ass.”
“We do not want this shit, Throttle, and I’ll put it out there, I particularly do not want this.”
“I get that.”
“Then back off.”
“No.”
Snap stood immobile and stared at the fuck.
Then he tried something else.
“This guy is dangerous and desperate and you and your brothers don’t know dick about doin’ what you’re doin’. He makes you, who’s gonna protect you?”
“That’s our lot.”
Snapper blew out a breath.
“We bought that, that’s our lot,” he reiterated. “We’re not askin’ for forgiveness—”
“That’s good,” Snap bit out.
“We’re just doin’ the right thing.”
“It isn’t right if it isn’t wanted.”
“I’ll point out, man, you’re ridin’ home alone to Rosalie.”
“I’m armed and alert and know Chew’s probably back in town.”
Throttle shook his head. “Man, we fucked up Rosalie—”
“Don’t have to remind me.”
Throttle kept going like Snapper didn’t talk.
“We had a fuckin’ pedophile with a patch.”
“Can’t say that surprised Chaos.”
“Snapper, you can turn on the dick and I’ll take it,” he growled. “I earned it. But you aren’t callin’ us off.” He threw out an arm indicating their current chat. “Courtesy. After this, you won’t see me. Core. Grill. Eight. Muzzle. The rest. But we’ll be there. It’s done. You can get pissed. Get in my face. You can lay me out right here, I won’t land a punch. Then I’ll get up, clean up, and we’ll still do that shit.”
“For Chaos?” Snapper asked incredulously.
“No, man,” Throttle said low. “For Rosalie.”
Goddamned shit.
“She heard what you did, she dropped the charges, Throttle. Move on.”
“That can’t happen ever, Snapper, not fuckin’ ever,” he bit out. “You can’t know how that is and that’s good for Rose. But this is what I bought. What we bought. Our lot. And we’re doin’ it, you like it or not.”
“Hear Web stepped down,” Snapper remarked.
“Club needed new blood.”
Word on the street, Snap knew that new blood was Throttle.
Snap jerked his chin toward Throttle. “And you lead your club on a death mission?”
“Amends.”
Christ.
“They know you CIed their asses?”
His threat was not vague.
“Suffice it to say, a brother just kicked out of the club turns out to be a murdering pedophile, Resurrection wasn’t too upset about one of their own workin’ with the cops to try to take down a slimy, drug-dealing, porn-producing pimp and ending up getting a predator off the streets. They got my honesty and they meted atonement.”
They’d beat him down as atonement. That black eye. Cut lip. He’d taken his brothers’ fists to make amends.
And now it was done.
“And they made you their president,” Snap finished for him. “Fuck, you guys are nuts.”
Throttle shrugged.
Snapper tried something else.
“I hear you got a woman.”
Throttle went more alert.
Snapper continued, “Chew makes you, takes you out, what about her?”
“She’s beautiful. She’s sweet. She’s smart. And she’ll be able to move on, knowin’ her man died doin’ the right thing.”
“Fuck, you’re crazy,” Snapper whispered.
“I was, now I’m very sane. I know what I’m doin’. I know what I’m about. I know what my club’s about. I know the kind of club it’s gonna be. And I know the man I wanna be. And I’m gonna be that man, Snapper. That’s just the way it’s gonna be.”
“You won’t get any gratitude and you won’t get any allegiances.”
Throttle nodded his head in acceptance.
“We aren’t askin’ for that. But while you’re not offering it, just a heads up. Before he left town, Chew got a quote on a coupla jobs. Digger’s feelin’ the lost love. Web threw him a bone with a visit in the clink, he got chatty. So we’re not only covering your asses, we’re lookin’ for this guy. More for you, this lunatic goes by the street name Sparkle. I do not get that shit, but Digger spouted that Chew crowed this motherfucker likes the sparks that fly when he’s sharpening his knife. Find him, that threat is no longer shadowing you ’cause Chew’s a dickless user and he knows he gets anywhere near a Chaos brother, you’ll tear him apart.”
Snap felt a chill race up his spine.
He had a very bad feeling about this.
“Chew hired a hit?” he asked.
“This guy’s expensive, man. Chew’s reign of terror was about making that payment. Further heads up, according to Digger, he already had a stash. So he might have needed to make up the shortfall, but my gut says, since he’s headed back, he’s achieved that goal.”
Shit.
“Do not look for this guy, Throttle,” Snap warned.
“Amends,” Throttle replied.
On that, they were obviously done because Throttle fired up his bike, pulled it off the stand, kicked it up with his heel and looked to Snapper to get out of his way.
Snapper moved out of his way.
But Throttle didn’t ride off.
Fuck.
Rather than shout at him over the pipes when he knew it would get him nowhere, Snap stalked to his bike, got on, and rode home.
Throttle followed him, idling at the foot of the drive after Snap turned in.
“Jesus, fuck me,” he muttered as he waited outside the garage for the door to open.
He rolled in, got off his bike fast, and stood staring out at the dark beyond the bay as the door went down.
Only when it was closed did he hear Throttle’s pipes as he rode away.
Then he pulled out his phone.
He called Rush and shared they had a new ally and they had a new lead.
When he was done, he left that shit with his bike.
Rosie would not know any of it.
“Jesus, fuck me,” he repeated.
Then he opened the door to get to his woman.
Millie
One thirty-seven, Wednesday afternoon . . .
I was sitting at the light at 32nd and Federal, almost home, when I heard someone lay on their horn behind me.
I looked in my rearview and saw Roscoe and Brick on their bikes, their heads turned to look behind them.
The car behind them jumped as if it had been bumped.
“What on—?”
It wasn’t only the fact that Brick whipped out a gun that silenced me.