A Family Man (31 page)

“Relax, darling. I ain't gonna hurt ya. Just looking for the company of a pretty girl is all.” Samson moved away from her ever so slightly. “What’s got you so twitchy, huh? I though Jez took good care of his girls.”

“
He does. I’m fine.”

Again Samson let it go. He didn’t want to spook her. “So you a dancer?”

“Not any more. I used to when I….When I was younger.” She fell silent, trying to avoid his piercing gaze.

“
And I ain't gotta worry about no old man kicking my ass?”

“
No. There is…was…. No, I don’t have anyone.” She glanced nervously at him and relaxed a little as he smiled. “So I’m all yours for as long as you want me.”

“
Good to hear, darling. I fully intend on keeping you to myself while I’m here.”

She wondered briefly if he knew of her connection to Dixon and risked a glance to where Joe was playing pool with Jez. No, she dismissed the idea. If either of them recognized her it would have been Joe, and as far as she was aware he hadn’t even looked in her direction. She knew she was putting herself in a dangerous position, although she was confident no one here knew of her Salt Lake connection. As far as everyone here was concerned she had come from Tucson. In reality, though, she had only been there for a couple of months before moving to Vegas, having followed Dixon wherever he went. She looked over again to the big nomad sitting next her and wondered what it would be to be the old lady of someone as kind as him. Suppressing a sigh, Candice concentrated on the job at hand. He’d never be interested in anything more than a fuck from her. Truthfully she doubted even Dixon would. Most of the time he was more interested in using her as a punching bag than anything else.

“
Hey.” Samson nudged her. “Stop looking so worried. I only wanted a little fun. If you’re not interested, I can go elsewhere.”

“
No… No. I am interested. I’m just not used to people wanting to be with me. There’s so many prettier girls here than me here.”

Gently he touched her cheek. “You are plenty pretty enough, sweetheart. Don’t you let anyone tell you otherwise.”

“Thank you.” She fought the urge to tense up as he pulled her closer. “Are you hungry? I could make you something.”

“
I got a better idea.” He stood up and held out his hand. “C’mon, the diner down the road does the best breakfasts. My treat.”

Joe straightened up and leaned on his cue as he watched his brother lead the girl outside. “What do you know about her, Jez?”

“
Not much. Her and a couple of her friends came up from Tucson looking to earn.”

“
You know where she was before that?”

“
Nah, never spoke to her. She works the strip and pays her dues. Seems to get on with everyone okay.” He frowned. “Why d’ya ask?”

“
The last time I saw her, she was in Salt Lake, on her knees in front of Dixon.”

“
Shit. You think she’s tipped him off about you?”

Joe gave a one-shouldered shrug and bent to take his shot. “Samson’ll take care of her.” He chuckled at the Vegas president’s expression. “I meant he’ll befriend her, see if he can’t get her to give him up.”

“And if she doesn’t?”

“
Then I’ll take care of her.”

~ oOo ~

Candice sat opposite Samson and picked at her fries. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

“
I’m a nice guy.”

“
So you make a habit of taking club girls to breakfast?”

“
I do when I’m hungry.” He grinned. “I don’t like eating alone, an’ I’d rather look at you than Tiny.” He reached over the table and touched her face. “Why wouldn’t I want to have breakfast with you?”

“
Because I’m a used-up old whore.”

There it was. His way in. “Shit. I’d like to find the asshole that put that in your head.”

“No one put anything in my head.”

“
Sure they did. You are a lovely girl, who could be anything she wanted to be.”

“
That’s very kind of you, but I know what I am.”

“
Don’t make a habit of buying used-up old whores breakfast, darling.”

“
You would if that used-up old whore is connected to the man you’re looking for.” She looked up and her eyes met his. “I’m not stupid, Samson, I know how this works.”

“
Then you know this is your chance to do this the easy way. Cuz trust me, darling, the hard way is Tiny. And you really don’t want that.”

“
He knows you’re here. I…”

“
Yeah, we figured that much. All we want from you is a location.”

“
I can’t tell you that.”

“
Can’t or won't?”

Her eyes dropped and he nodded. “You are going to do as you’re told.”

“And if I don’t?”

“
I’ll hand you over to Tiny.”

“
He’ll kill me?”

“
Oh no, darling. He’ll keep you alive. Tiny’s very good at keeping people alive.”

“
How do I know I can trust you?”

“
If you don’t give me what I want, or you tip him off that we’re on to him, after Tiny's done with you, I will kill you. Co-operate and you get to live with everything intact.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash. “There’s enough her to set you up, wherever you want. It’s yours if you play nice.”

“
Dix will kill me if I betray him.”

“
He won't get the chance, darling. You’re a smart girl, you saw through this little charade. And like you said, you know how it works.” He grinned. “So how about you tell me what you know.”

“
I don’t know much. He’s staying at a place called Hope Farm. I think it’s about thirty miles east of here. The people who own it are into all that survivalist bullshit.” She screwed up her nose. “I don’t know how many there are there, but from what he has said, it’s like a fortress. That all I know, really.”

“
Okay. Good girl. Now I want you to call him and tell him that we have left town, but you don’t know where we’ve gone.”

“
Now?”

“
Now would be a good time.”

“
Okay.” She pulled out her cell. “Dix? It’s me. I…I thought you’d want to know, those guys who were looking for you left town this morning….No, I don’t know where they went….No, they don’t know anything…..Yes, I’m sure. Okay, I will. Bye.”

Samson stood and, holding out his hand, took her cell from her. “Let's get you back to the clubhouse. I’ll have a couple of nomads here in a couple of hours. They can escort you out of town.” He grinned at the expression on her face. “Wouldn’t want you driving in the wrong direction, now would we?”

THIRTY-SIX

Joe shifted as yet another rock dug in his ribs, and he brought the binoculars up to his eyes once more. From their vantage point on a hill at the back of the derelict ranch, hidden by a rocky outcrop, they had a perfect view of the whole thing. It was rapidly becoming apparent that the usual MC method of get in quick, hit ‘em hard and get your ass out of there wasn’t going to work here. Taking down an operation like this was going to take a lot of planning and a huge amount of fire power.

Samson squinted and looked over to his companion. “So if you was planning on taking these fuckers down, how would you do it?”

“
Snipers, to take out those lookouts. Then a two-pronged attack from over there and there.” He pointed. “Lot of noise, lot of smoke. I’m guessing the money shot is the house. Looks like there’s a cellar, an’ I’m guessing that’s where they’re storing the guns. There’s two, no, three guard dogs on the porch and two guys on the roof. There’s drums of something out back and it’s possible they’re using the rest of the house to cook up meth. I’d say we try to draw them off and if we can’t get the weapons out, we blow the fucker sky high.”

“
You make it sound so easy, bro.” Samson chuckled, and took more photographs. “How many are we going to need?”

Joe shrugged. “A lot. But it ain't just about numbers. We’d need the best. Every one of those fuckers is armed, and I’m guessing they’re good. They ain't gonna panic. They will be well drilled and will have covered every scenario.”

“We could just wait for Dixon to surface, maybe use his girl to draw him out.”

“
We could. But they been hitting the Serpientes and Desert Ghosts. There’s five bikes down there, an’ he’s been wearing colors. That’s what they been seeing. The patch an’ the bikes. Whether he’s with them or not. Any more hits are gonna look like they’re sanctioned by the club. These fuckers are looking to start a turf war. Tucson uses the Ghosts on protection runs, and Serpientes have been running H through this territory for years without a problem. My guess is that it’s the H that they’re interested in.”

“
Makes sense. Turn the clubs on each other. Then step in to pick up the lost business.” Samson grinned. “Guess we take the fuckers down, then.” Grunting, he rolled over and sat up. “Let’s get back to Vegas. Looks like we got some planning to do.”

Neither spoke as they walked the short distance down the hill to where the anonymous grey van was parked. This was a dangerous strategy that was going to involve the cream of several charters. But even with numbers and using the best men, it was unlikely that they would pull this off without suffering heavy casualties.

~ oOo ~

“How can I be sure this isn’t going to blow back on this chapter?” Jez ran his hand over his head. “We got a good thing going here, I don't wanna rock the boat.”

“
You can’t.” Samson leaned back and folded his arms. “But if they get what they want, and start a turf war, I guarantee Vegas will be hit.”

“
Looks like I’ve got no choice, then.” Jez stood. “I’ll call Vince, get him to reach out the other chapters.”

Joe had been right. This wasn’t just about numbers. They were going to need the best that each chapter had to offer. Gradually over the next few days, Vegas filled up with Freaks from every clubhouse from Tucson to Washington State. He looked up as the door opened and Barney, Wolf and Bully walked through with broad grins on their faces. His grin matched theirs as they approached. “Brothers. It’s good to see you.”

Barney gave him a one armed hug. “Shit, bro. Can you, for once, just do a job without over complicating things?”

“Nah, wouldn’t want you to miss out on some shit kicking.”

“
Nice of you to share.”

It was a week before they were ready. Mac had created some computer models using Google Earth and the photographs Samson had taken, and the place had been closely watched and any comings and goings noted. They had been careful not to draw attention to how many Freaks had gathered at the clubhouse. Arriving in twos and threes and parking their bikes in the alley at the back, well out of sight, they had managed to gather together without raising suspicion. Finally they were ready, or as ready as they’d ever be. Under cover of darkness, in vans, trucks and cars, they headed out through the desert and got in position ready for a dawn attack. They certainly outnumbered their opponents but it would be a pretty safe bet that despite this they would still be at a disadvantage. The place was heavily fortified and their weapons were inferior. They did however, have the element of surprise, and many of the guys had military experience, so as they readied themselves, most were optimistic that they would be successful.

~ oOo ~

Barney laid down and fixed the silencer to his sniper rifle. In precisely five minutes he was to take out the guys on the roof while Bully, who was a few yards away, would take down the two watching the front entrance. At the same time, half the team would break in through the unguarded but locked back gates, and the other half would storm the front. Hopefully he would be able to take out the dogs as well as have the chance to pick off others.

Carefully, he lined up his first shot, slowing his breathing and relaxing his muscles, as his cell buzzed. He fired. The first bullet hit true, the second not quite. He hit his victim, but it wasn’t a kill shot and he managed to shout out before a second bullet hit him between the eyes. From his position, he watched as all hell broke loose. Bully had hit both his targets and at least one dog and suddenly the place was swarming with patches. Realizing there was too much smoke and chaos for him to be of any use, Barney abandoned his rifle and ran down the hill, pulling his Glock out of its holster as he approached the nearest gate, taking down a big skinhead, before he had the chance to shoot Spike in the back. Spike turned and their eyes met, before they resumed the battle.

Close combat had never really been Joe’s strong point. Despite this, he threw himself into the fray, not even hesitating when a familiar burning told him a bullet had clipped his shoulder.

It was pandemonium. The air was thick with shouting and the screams of injured men, and there was so much smoke it was difficult to see. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Samson go down. “Samson!”

“
I’m okay.” Joe watched as he dragged himself to the relative safety of a barn wall, then continued with his assault. There was nothing he could do for his brother right now. He spun around as someone touched his shoulder. “We have five minutes before the house goes up.” Bugs grinned. “Time to get our asses out of here.” He gave a shrill whistle and gradually, still firing, the Freaks pulled back, Joe and Spike dragging Samson unceremoniously between them.

The explosion could be seen for miles. Of course, by the time the emergency services turned up, they had all dispersed, leaving dead and wounded white supremacists behind them.

They had all survived! Not entirely intact, but they would all live to fight another day. Joe had sustained a gunshot wound to the shoulder. It was clean, little more than a flesh wound, but it would leave an impressive scar. Both Barney and Bully had taken hits, but they weren’t life threatening. The most seriously injured was Samson. The bullet had lodged itself in his thigh, and although Long John and Bugs had managed to get it out and stop the bleeding, he wouldn’t be riding for a few weeks at least.

~ oOo ~

Joe sat on the floor outside, his back leaning against the wall, and pulled out his cell. “Hey, baby.”

“Hey. Everything okay?”

“
Yeah. It’s all good. Samson got shot up. He’s gonna be laid up for a while. How would you feel about him staying with us? He could really do with some home comforts.”

“
Samson is always more than welcome to stay. But if he’s shot up, how’s he getting here?”

“
Prospect will bring him and his bike in the van.”

“
Is every one else whole?”

“
We’re all fine, Beth. It went like a dream. I’ll be home in a few days.”

All was quiet as they sat in the clubhouse and watched the news report the days events at Hope farm. The authorities were putting it down to some sort of internal beef. They would be questioning the survivors as soon as possible. Joe leaned back, stretching his long legs in front of him and looked to where Dixon’s cut lay across the bar. No one could remember seeing him, but his cut had been hanging across his Harley. They’d taken it and torched his bike as well as the farmhouse and all the motor homes. If he’d been hiding in any of them, he would have been burnt to a crisp.

“
How you doing, bro?” Spike sat down next to him and handed him a beer.

“
Good.” Joe looked back at the TV. “Be happier once I know that asshole is dead.”

“
I think we can be sure of that. We know he was in there, and I don’t see how he survived.”

“
Some did.”

“
Nah, reckon most won't survive the night. Relax man, we did good. Showed those motherfuckers, that no one messes with the Freaks.”

THIRTY-SIX

Samson eased himself carefully onto the kitchen chair and watched as Tiny’s old lady busied herself with preparing lunch. He had been staying there for just over a week now, and it looked like he’d be there for a while longer. The bullet had ripped through the muscle and chipped his thigh bone, and then the wound had become infected. The antibiotics that Tiny had managed to get were doing their job and he was starting to feel a little less feverish, but still felt like shit.

Beth turned and smiled. “Hey. How you feeling?” She crossed the room and pressed her fingers against his brow. “You’re still hot. I really think you should see a doctor.”

“
I’m okay. Seeing a doctor will just complicate things.”

“
I guess. Do you want something to eat?”

“
Maybe later.”

“
Samson, you have to eat. How about I make you some soup?”

“
I don’t want you to go to any trouble.”

“
It’s no trouble.” She bent and kissed the top of his head. “You need to keep your strength up.”

“
I really appreciate all you’re doing for me, Beth.”

She shrugged. “You’re family.”

They both turned at the sound of the front door closing. Joe walked in, throwing her car keys onto the table and dropping a bag of groceries on the counter. “That’s everything on the list apart from the chorizo.” He bent and kissed her neck. “So what do I get for running errands for you?”

“
You get to eat.” She turned and slipped her arms around his neck. “And maybe we can find a use for those bananas and whipped cream, later.”

Samson chuckled. “You do know I’m still here, right?” They both turned with huge grins on their faces, and he scowled. “You disgust me.”

“Why don’t you two boys go into the den and leave me to get the lunch.” With her hands flat on Joe’s chest, Beth pushed him away before turning back to her cooking.

As Samson hauled himself up onto his feet and, leaning on his crutches, followed his friend, he wondered if he would have been able to adapt to the sort of domesticity that Tiny had. He could never quite wrap his head around how it was possible for a man who could torture and kill without a second thought to then be able to go home and be a loving husband and father. Somehow, though, against all the odds, his brother managed to pull it off. He knew Beth was under no illusion as to what her old man did for the club, and he guessed that maybe that was why it worked.

It had been nearly twenty years since he’d had anything like a serious relationship and truthfully he thought it would be unfair to expect a woman to put up with having a nomad as an old man. But watching Beth and Tiny, he wondered what it would be like to have a warm house and the loving arms of a good woman to come home to. He all but collapsed on the huge sofa, exhausted by the short walk across the room.

Tiny frowned. “You okay, bro?”

“
Yeah. Getting pissed at feeling this weak. Just give me a sec.” He took a deep breath and waited for the dizziness to pass. “Your old lady is taking good care of me. She’s a great girl. You’re a lucky man.”

Tiny grinned and switched on the TV. “Yeah, I am.”

Amy parked her truck and walked towards the house with a spring in her step. Finally, after months of waiting, Andy, the best looking boy in the school, had asked her out on a date. It would have been nice to go home a talk about it, but although she was sure Beth would be cool, she knew Joe would not. He was convinced that every boy that even as much as looked in her direction was planning on jumping her, and as a result, she was nearly seventeen and had never even been kissed. She loved him; in fact since he’d got back from Vegas they had been closer than ever, but he really was a pain in her ass sometimes.