“If you had been around here sooner, that would be one of the answers you would know. Dance, I told you the club needs you. We’ve got crap to take care of since the mess with the traitors.”
Dragon never used Irish’s name. He hadn’t since the day it happened. When he came to the prison to tell me about it, he used the man’s name once and after that it was never used again. I understood it, hell I felt the same. It was bitter shit to know that a brother we trusted as one of our own would do that shit. Twist wasn’t that hard. Neither Dragon nor I had emotions tied up in the man. Irish had been a brother. If I had room for more nightmares, Irish might have been in them.
“I’m here now. Tell me who the fuck it is that’s been coming after Carrie.”
“I’d watch my tone, Dance.”
“Bullshit, if some fucker was coming after your woman you’d be worse. Now tell me who the fuck I’m dealing with.”
“Well don’t that beat all,” Dragon says and leans back in his chair, his eyes raking over me and instantly making me uncomfortable. Dragon sees more than the normal man, it is one of the things that makes him such a good leader.
“Drag…”
He holds up his hand to stop me from going on and then pulls himself close into the table.
“After the shit with Nic and her girl I went after Skull and his men full force. All roads led to them and I was ready for heads to roll. Only, it seems Tiny had just signed on with Skull’s crew a month out. He came recommended by their parent charter.”
I nod because while I figure this shit has nothing to do with me, it will eventually lead me to what I need to know.
“Skull swears he didn’t know about Tiny and what the fucker did.”
“You believe him?”
Dragon shrugs, but eases back in his chair.
“Skull’s a smarmy son of a bitch, but he has a code and top of that code is no hurting women or children.
“So who is this fucker?”
“Some ass wipe having a ball toying with me and mine,” Dragon growls.
“So you’re saying we have no idea who this asshole is?”
“I didn’t say that. Got to wonder though, if you’re so done with the club and you hate Red so much, why you care?”
“Drag, psycho-analyze some other motherfucker, I’m not playing.”
Dragon gives a half laugh, looks me over once more and rubs his chin and the side of his face, as if he’s deciding something.
“The cop you gutted, turns out his dad has some pretty powerful connections.”
“What’s that mean?”
“This motherfucker is the father of the man you killed.”
“If that’s true, I could see him coming after me, after Carrie even, but why the club?”
“Because you are the club and it’s not a secret I pulled in every marker I had to try and get your ass out of trouble.”
“So why can’t we just find this guy and put a bullet in him?”
“Damn, why the fuck didn’t I think of that?” Dragon asks sarcastically and then flips me off. “Because, the man is like a fucking ghost. I can’t find him. His bank accounts, his house, hell any of his assets haven’t been touched since the shit with Twist and company. We’ve got surveillance in place; we’ve added someone in the bank to watch over things. Fuck, I’ve even had Freak mess around and freeze his account with a fake levy. We’re coming up with nothing.”
“All this over a sniveling piece of shit that didn’t deserve to take his next breath of air.”
“No, motherfucker. All this and more is because you went off half-cocked. Dance, I got your back man, but you have to be smart this time. This man wants you dead. Fuck, he wants all of us dead. We have to work to make sure at the end we’re standing over the son of a bitch and spitting on his grave. You feel me?”
“So where’s Carrie at now?” I ask before I can stop myself. It’s fucked up, I admit it. I’m mad at her, I blame her…well mostly, but I’m not exactly crazy happy she’s off somewhere with Bull either.
“Bull took her out to the safe house in Manchester.”
“Is that necessary?”
“She has been staying at the club, but the girl is pretty innocent and I have the Atlanta Charter coming in tomorrow for a few days…a big party.”
I don’t know what to say to that. Several things run through my head, but none of them I want to voice so, I let it go.
“This fucker got a real name?”
“Francis Owsley.”
“Francis? Jesus, no wonder the fucker is ripping off names from Greek mythology.”
Dragon laughs and I almost do too, except all this talk of Carrie has me feeling like I’m crawling out of my skin.
“He hasn’t made any moves since the day your woman was hurt?” It was tricky wording that question since bringing up Irish was bad, and saying Nicole and shot in the same sentence seemed to set Dragon off even more.
“Not a damn thing. He went underground as soon as we got his name. Something will give soon. I can feel it.”