I watch from my seat as the member of the L.A. chapter rolls into the room with his crew of twelve behind them. They take their seats.
“I’m going to start now. You all k
now we lost a brother today, Psycho. He’s bailed our asses out of more trouble than I can remember. And I’m talking nationally. When people need shit done, he’s the one they call for. He chose to patch here because of his family. It was our privilege. We all knew Pixie back in the day. She liked to party and she did her rounds. In the end, it came down to Battle or Psycho. That was their business. Only reason I’m bringing it up is because shit hit the fan today. We found out Calla isn’t Psycho’s…she’s Battle’s. Psycho didn’t know until she was in high school, and by then, they didn’t want to rock the boat. I get that. It could’ve been taken to the grave. But someone’s been talking and word got back to Battle’s people. They felt wronged and they retaliated. They thought I was in on the secret keeping. They were wrong, and the way they went around shit was all fucked up. I’m not excusing that or forgetting it. We have a system for this shit for a reason, people. You start going rogue and it all falls apart. We can’t afford to let this shit break down the machine. Big is here to come up with a happy medium with me. I’m going to give him the floor now.”
Big stands from his chair. He’s a mountain of a man in his early fifties with gray hair he keeps contained in a braid, a bushy set of eyebrows that makes his pale blue eyes stand out, and a number of scars. “This shit went down wrong. It wasn’t sanctioned by me. I’d never have agreed to it. But Battle’s family has always been prone to breaking the rules. Cutter did it. He’s a nomad staying with my chapter right now. His family wanted retribution for what they see to be a wrong. Blood for blood is only fair, but if you want my opinion, I’d say to leave him alive on the record. If he goes down, it can’t be tracked back here. Those crazy sons of a bitches will wage a personal war.”
I shift in my seat.
Stone speaks up again, “I agree. I’ve seen Battle and his people in action. They’re mean, vicious, and relentless. Not trouble we want. They’ll make this shit public. Because they don’t care. That’ll be bad for all of us. Especially after the way the FBI was riding us.”
“So, we take his colors and set him out there alone,” Big says. Plenty of shit happens to civilians out there with no brothers watching their back. Particularly ones that’ve done all the shit he has.
“I’m good with that. Anyone here object?” Stone asks.
The room remains quiet and somber.
“His colors are gone, and his tat is gone,” Big states in a flat voice.
Stone stands, and they shake hands. “I have to make arrangements for my boy now, Big. You’re welcome to stay in the compound.”
“No, me and the boys are going to hand down this judgment and clear the air. The sooner we square up, the less ripples we’ll have in the pond.”
“I like that plan. Keep me posted,” Stone replies.
“You know it, brother.” They hug it out.
Then the L.A. chapter is ghost, leaving us to pick up the pieces, and put our brother into the ground.
Chapter Fourteen
BAD BLOOD
Blue
I should leave well enough alone, but I can’t. I want to hear from Calla’s own lips she set this shit up on Dad. She doesn’t get to refer to him as anything more than Psycho now. My mother may be in denial, but I see things for what they are. I know the boys are handling the logistics, but this is family problem. I put my father in the ground two weeks ago with his cut. I watched as members from every part that could make it paid their respects. It didn’t fill the gaping hole in my chest, but it made me proud to know he’d touched so many lives and earned so much respect. A man can’t do much more than that in one lifetime.
My heels click over the concrete as I make my way to the table and sit down. I can’t see her as my sister anymore. She’s a person I happen to share DNA with. Family is more than blood. She sold us out. I’m counting the days until Bolton turns eighteen, so she has no more power over him.
I sink down into the chair and wait. I dare her to show her face. I want to slam her face into the shiny surface of the table, but I know better. The way to hurt Calla is words rooted in truth. This is the last time I plan on willingly talking to her, so I’m going to let it fly.
She walks out and I have to do a double take. Her hair is cropped close to her face and I can tell she’s put on muscle. The expression in her eyes is hard and angry. Jesus. This place is eating her up.
“Sister, so nice of you to visit me,” she purrs, sinking down.
“I wish I could say the same. You look shitty in orange, you know?”
Her jaw drops. “Oh, did you decide to grow ovaries?”
“I always had them. I was just too busy being sorry for your ass to use them when it came to you. Poor, pitiful, lost Calla, couldn’t get anything right to save her life.”
“Fuck you,” she spits.
“Oh, you have been since you were sixteen. Who did you tell about your father?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Don’t play dumb with me, little girl. That leak spilled all over this club and ended in blood.”