There were several explicit pictures, which only served to turn his stomach. “Why are you giving me this? It’s your problem, not mine.”
“Now, it’s your problem. I need for the Hell’s Bastards to take care of Vigo and Garofalo, but it also needs to be done when they’re both servicing their own needs, not the good of the outfit.” Drago pointed down at the file. “They need to go.”
“Why are you giving this to me and not Smokey?”
“You’ll give it to Smokey, and you’ll deal with it. Until then, I’ve got to keep Garofalo happy. I’d also be careful. Abriana, if she doesn’t come through with what Vigo wants, he will find a way to send a message to her.” Drago nodded at him and was about to climb out of the booth.
“Why did you save me?” Ugly Beast asked.
Drago paused, turning to look at him. “Excuse me?”
“You didn’t have to save me, and yet you did.” Ugly Beast waited.
“I had my reasons. Enjoy the rest of your day, Umberto.”
With that, Drago got up and left.
Raven slid into the booth afterward. She changed out of the waitressing uniform and was back in her club kit.
“He knew who you were.”
“Of course he did. What’s with the file?” she asked.
He slid it over to her.
“Wow, dirty old men like young girls. What’s the deal?” She slammed the file closed, and he ran his fingers through his hair, trying to think.
“I don’t know. He wants us to get rid of Vigo and Garofalo.”
“I’ve got no problems with that. If we do it and he doesn’t show his hand, we’re at war with the outfit.”
“Exactly.”
“Do you think you can trust him?” Raven asked.
“I don’t trust anyone but the club.” He tapped his fingers on the counter top. “Fuck!”
“You were hoping for some answers?”
“I knew what was coming today. I didn’t want to fucking think about it. Come on, let’s get back to the clubhouse. We’ve got to update Smokey.”
Smokey didn’t like the information he presented him with either, once they arrived three hours later.
“What’s our next move?”
“I’ve got to think,” Smokey said.
“We need to know what’s going to happen,” Ugly Beast said. “Vigo is calling on Saturday.”
“Until she proves her loyalty to us, we’ve not got a problem with them finding out we know.” Smokey opened the file again and shook his head. “Tell me, Ugly Beast, what does this really mean? We know the world is a fucked-up place.”
“Even the outfit has certain standards,” Ugly Beast said. “This, right here, is a sure sign of weakness. Someone was able to picture him doing this stuff to underage girls.”
“Save me from fucking men in suits.” Smokey dropped the file and began to pace his office. “I should have let you kill this fucker when you had the chance.”
Ugly Beast said nothing. He would always do what was good for the club, not his own personal enjoyment.
Just as he was about to say so, gunfire erupted across the clubhouse parking lot. Screams followed.
“Abriana!”
Rushing out of the clubhouse, gun in his hand, he made it clear of the parking lot. He saw the three bikers, each with a gun pointed at the clubhouse. Bodies were on the ground, and he saw some with blood.
He spotted Abriana with Raven, who gave him a thumbs up.
The bikers took off, and he didn’t hesitate. Grabbing his bike, he straddled his machine, knowing several of the club brothers were following on behind him.
There was no way cops would get called, as they didn’t live close to any developed area.
Spotting the first guy, he held his gun, took aim, and fired at the tire. The guy was flung off his motor.
His club would take them back to the clubhouse where they would be dealt with. They would be killed. He fired again, but the other biker swerved and he missed. The biker in front of him however, caught the bullet, and as his bike swerved out from under him, it took the third biker down. Riding past them, he spun around and turned to face them all.
The Hell’s Bastards were already there, picking them up. The leather cut all three men were wearing stated they were prospects, and it pissed him off to know their rivals had sent boys to do a man’s job.
On the way back to the clubhouse, he saw the doctor’s car in the lot, but also, a couple of brothers with pensive faces.
“What is it?” Smokey asked.
“Raven got hit in the stomach. She’s refusing to go to the hospital.”
His thoughts were on Abriana, and he rushed into the clubhouse going to the backroom where they all got stitched up.
Raven was on the table, passed out.
Abriana sat on a chair, stroking the woman’s head. Tears were running down her face.
“Thank God, maybe you could make her see reason. I can’t do everything here. The wound is too deep. She has to go to a hospital.”