Dogs of War Episode 5 (4 page)

He smirked, his heart stopping eyes glinting with humor as he took another swig of his beer, “Yeah, something like that. But Red takes it a little more personal than most.”

“But why? I wouldn’t have taken him for a religious fanatic.”

“He’s not. He’s got some… personal issues with witches,” Demon was trying to be enigmatic and it wasn’t amusing her.

“So what’s that got to do with me?” her voice rose, frustration with Demon and with the situation leaking through.

“Like I said before, you need to talk to Red.”

She wanted to stomp her foot and demand answers, “I would if he were here to answer them, but he’s not. You are.”

“Listen, doll. You can get mad at me all you want to, but there ain’t a thing I can do about Red. He was this way before you and he’ll be this way a long time after you’re gone. Just the way it is.”

His eyes were hard, like he was just giving her some tough love, and to her horror she felt herself tearing up. “But why?” she asked softly, her voice wavering as the tears finally made their way down her face.  She put her hands up to her face, she didn’t want anyone to see her crying over Red, least of all Demon.

Demon moved off the barstool and with more gentleness than she’d though him capable of, took her in his arm.

The bolt of electricity flew through her again, just like it had when he’d touched her hand in the kitchen, and her breathe caught in her throat. Their eyes locked and she knew he was feeling it as well. She couldn’t focus, couldn’t grasp what was happening, everything began to sway and jumble in her mind.She was drowning in his impossibly green eyes, eyes that seemed to know everything about her, and strangely she felt like she knew all about him too.

She saw him, as a boy playing side by side with Red, as a teenager strumming an old beat up guitar and smiling at a girl with long blonde curls, as a young man arguing with an older man in a Dogs of War cut, Red standing by his side. She saw him a little older, his face bruised and bloody as he watched Red walk away from him… the visions were suddenly jerked away as Demon let her go.

She gasped, drawing in a shocked breath, “What the hell was that?”

He looked confused and lost, “Fuck if I know.” He was panting heavily as well.

“Did you see visions of me?” she could only hope that he hadn’t, she wanted to keep her pathetic life up until this point to herself.

“Yeah,” he looked away, gulping. “Jesus that was freaky.”

“That’s the second time. I felt it in the kitchen when you touched my hand before, remember?”

“Could you shut the fuck up, bitch.” Sidney looked at him wide eyed, not sure what had prompted him to talk to her like that, “Not you, not you. It’s this ghost that keeps following me around. Nevermind. Yeah I remember it. I thought it was just like, physical attraction or whatever.”

Sidney was confused, “Ghost?” she asked but didn’t give him time to answer, “Physical attraction? You know I’m with Red, or was with him at the time.” She’d tried to push the thought of that moment out of her mind, but if she were honest with herself she had thought it was some extreme form of instant attraction herself.

Demon seemed to be getting his composure back, and he smiled at her, a little sideways smile that made her want to either kiss him or smack him, “Oh Sids, you don’t have to hide how you feel about me. I mean come on, you’ve got to admit, as weird as it was, it was pretty hot?”

Sidney’s mouth opened and closed, wanting to deny it but knowing that she couldn’t. Her body still thrummed in response to just a simple hug, “Can you not be an ass just long enough for us to figure this out?”

He shook his head, “I doubt it, it’s genetic.”

“God, I can’t even deal with you right now. I’ll go get my own answers,” she huffed as she turned away and back again, “without you.”

“You do that, I’ll be anxiously waiting to hear what you find out,” he called to her.

“Maybe I’ll just keep it between me and,” she looked around, wishing there were more people around, and yelled, “THE WITCHES.” She wanted everyone to know who and what she was. Screw them if they couldn’t handle it.

“How much longer?” Squint shouted, the wind snatching the words away.

“What?” Red couldn’t hear anything over the roar of his bike and the rush of air pummeling him as they flew over the asphalt.

“How much longer?” Squint repeated.

“As long as it takes dipshit,” Red was tired of the damn complaints coming from Squint and Squirt. They should have been used to long rides by now, instead they were complaining about numb asses and hot legs. It was like riding with fucking toddlers. Part of that was the club’s fault, they should have made sure the prospects were getting enough road time. Evidently that hadn’t been big on Big Dogs list of priorities.

At least Tinker was riding in obliging silence. Red just wanted to feel the road and visualize Big Dogs face when he finally got to him and confronted him about his betrayal. He wanted to hear him try to talk his way out of it and think he was making a believable case. Then Red wanted to rip his goddamned throat out.

Just thinking about it left a deep feeling of satisfaction inside. Red had never enjoyed killing. Not the way that Demon did, relishing the blood and gore as he sliced through warm bodies. Red did it out of necessity, because he had to protect his people, his club, his family, not because he liked it. But this was going to be different. He was going to enjoy every second he spent dismembering Big Dog, Trainz, and BillCo. He was going to enjoy their screams, their cries for mercy, the feel of their warm blood gushing over his teeth. He was going to savor it all.

Being on the road, the vibration of his bike, the sound driving out everything else, the wind whipping his clothes, his hair, it usually calmed him. Not this time. The longer they rode, the more the tension mounted, the more he yearned to get there and get the job done. He had latched onto the idea that killing Big Dog would fix everything. Things would go back to being the way they had before. Without all the internal club drama, without worrying about someone trying to kill him, and without having his heart stepped on by a lying witch. He could pass off the job of president to someone else and sneak out of town without causing a fuss. Then he might be able to give Morgan the chance at a normal life. One that wasn’t constantly plagued with fear and worry, where her life wouldn’t ever again be put in danger by who and what he was.

Red slowed as they turned down a tree lined residential road. The homes on either side reminded him of something off of TV. Where over indulged teenagers had parties and got caught having sex and smoking pot. A life like that must be nice, your biggest fear getting caught by your parents with your pants down, humping some cheerleader in the garage. That had never been the kind of life Red had experienced. They’d always had enough to eat and clothes on their back, but everything extra went to the Club. He’d never had a fancy car or gone to eat at a five star restaurant. Hell, despite the fact that he could be considered ‘well-off’ now, he’d never even bought clothes that didn’t come from Wal-Mart. Scratch that, he had bought a thirty dollar pair of pants and a white shirt all folded up in a plastic bag from a department store once. For a funeral.

He didn’t feel like he’d missed anything though. All these big houses probably held a lot of lonely space. He’d take a small house full of laughter over that any day.

Finally the house that Demon had described came into view, he checked the street number against the one he’d memorized and confirmed he was in the right place. Red shook his head. He never would have guessed one of his own, the fucking president of the club and his two closest men, would have sold out. He might be planning to leave but he would never betray the club, the town, like that. He didn’t always agree with his orders, the direction the club took, or anything else, but he’d done his damn job. People depended on them, not just the club, the family with five kids who couldn’t buy groceries, the teenage girl who got knocked up by some asshole who left her, the old lady with no children and no way to pay the electric bill. That was who Big Dog had sold out, not just the guys in the club, the whole damn town.

Red pulled over to the side of the road a few houses down from the one the traitors were staying in and grinned, very soon Big Dog was going to pay for all of that and more. He knew they should probably wait until night, when the chances of them being seen was less, but he was too impatient. He just hoped some overly helpful human didn’t decide to call the cops. He didn’t want to kill any innocents, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t.

He climbed off his bike and started giving instructions almost before his feet hit the ground, “Alright, Tinker, you’re coming with me. Squint and Squirt, you’re going to plant your asses on either side of that driveway, out of sight, and if anything goes wrong, you’re going to hightail it out of here and tell the rest of the guys what happened. Ya got it?”

Both of the prospects nodded and moved to comply. Squirt grimaced as he turned to go. He was walking bowlegged, Red knew what was up and shook his head. Couldn’t be helped now, but Red bet he’d remember those burning thighs in the future and make sure to swab his happy ass down with diaper rash cream before he left on a long ride again. Not to mention a splash or two of baby powder on the taint.Monkey butt and swamp balls were no joke.

Red made his way as silently as he could to the edge of the house, Tinker followed.

He heard them in there. The TV was playing, someone was flushing a toilet, and someone was snoring. Good. He’d catch them while they were preoccupied.

Ducking below windows and skirting bushes they made their way to the back of the house, pausing by the back door to listen again. He didn’t want the three of them to get the heads up and have the jump on him and Tinker when they opened the door. But all seemed just as quiet as before so he gripped the door handle and turned it fast and hard. He heard the crunch and knew that he’d torn out the latch.

Silently they entered. Red motioned for Tinker to head upstairs, where they’d heard someone flushing the toilet, and he was going to take whoever was watching TV. He’d let whoever was taking a nap come to them when he felt like it.

He rounded a corner and saw Big Dog, kicked back in a recliner, his eyes shut. An afternoon nap did sound relaxing, too bad Red was going to fuck his up.

Red straightened and walked quietly to the end of the leather chair, waiting for Big Dog to notice. He looked older, his white hair wispy and thin, his skin sagging and yellowed from years of cigarette smoke, his body a lumpy mass under an expensive looking plush blanket.

He nudged his foot when it didn’t seem like he was going to wake up with a fright any time in the near future. Big Dog didn’t even move. Red nudged him again, still nothing.

Irritated, Red grabbed him by the collar and hauled him out the chair. That woke him up.

“Huh? What the..”

“What the fuck indeed Big Dog.”

“Red,” he saw recognition and fear enter Big Dog’s eyes at the same time. “Hey man, good to see you,” he stuttered, his voice gruff from sleep.

“Yeah, I could say the same, but I won’t.”

Tinker came in dragging Trainz behind him, his hands tied with a drop cord.

“What the fuck is this about Red? And who is this big ugly fuck?” Trainz asked as Tinker jerked him forward, pushing him against the wall.

“I’m going to go get the other one,” Tinker said before heading back upstairs, Red nodded.

“I’ll wait until Tinker gets BillCo to explain what’s going to happen here. So while we wait how about you start telling me what the hell could convince you to turn traitor.”

Big Dog and Trainz exchanged a look and then Big Dog began the bullshit, just like Red had known he would. “You got this shit all wrong Red. I don’t know why you think we’ve done anything to consider us traitors but you can just forget that pile of shit. Ain’t one of us would betray the Club.” His voice was rife with indignant outrage, like a cheating husband explaining to his wife why his secretary just happened to be bobbing her head up and down under the desk.  To be sure she was just looking for a dropped pen.

“Uh huh, well you tell me about it man. Tell me how you came to be living in a house like this,” he waved his hand indicating all the furniture that clearly hadn’t come from Lowe’s, the pictures on the wall that looked like they belonged in a museum, the shelves and shelves of leather bound books that lent the room a rich musky odor. “Tell me about it, and while you’re at it tell me about why you haven’t answered your phone, why your daughter thinks you’re on a fishing trip, why you haven’t made contact with a single person in the club the entire time you’ve been gone.”

“Son, I know it looks bad, but let me explain,” Big Dog put his hand up, as if to stop the flow of accusations from coming any closer to him.

“I’m waiting,” Red sat down on the coffee table as if he had all the time in the world, but the killing edge was still on him and he knew that everyone in the room could feel it.

“This one wanted to fight,” Tinker came back in the room holding BillCo by the scruff of his neck, the old mans grey hair in disarray and a bloody gash decorated his eyebrow.

“Sit him beside that one,” he motioned to Trainz, “and let him watch the show. It’s going to be a good one. So you were saying?” He turned back to Big Dog.

“Look, we got kidnapped by the Hellhound’s and then they gave us over to some dude who threw us in here and told us not to leave.”

Red whistled, “Jesus, you must be doing something right if this is your cell. The other’s got storage units,” his voice became deadly, “including my daughter.”

“Ah Christ man, they took Morgan? Did you get her back?”

“I’ll pretend you don’t already know the answer to that. Yes, we got her back. While you and your two amigos over there were hiding out in this mini mansion, we shed blood to get her back. Her and Maria and Price.”

“I didn’t know I promise I didn’t know.”

“I don’t believe you, you lying sack of shit,” Red came up off the coffee table in an instant, his face close to Big Dog’s, “you did this, you betrayed us to the Hellhound’s. You plotted to have me murdered, you had my daughter locked up like an animal, and who the hell knows what balls you’ve had to lick to get here, but it doesn’t matter. You’re going to get to see the Reaper Moon to pay for these debts, and it’s going to be shinning for a long long time.”

“Watch out Red!”

Red turned his head toward Tinker’s voice, expecting to see Trainz or BillCo rushing him, but instead he got an insanely hard punch to the kidney from the other direction. He fell to the floor, unable to breath, but he rolled over in time to see who was attacking him and catch his foot before it landed a blow to the side.

Big, over muscled men in suits swarmed the room, five of them, all wearing a uniform of black pants and jacket with a white shirt, little cords coming from their ears. Who the fuck were these guys? The secret service? He sniffed the air. Humans. He wouldn’t have much trouble with these guys as long as the three traitors didn’t interfere. He readied his body to shift, feeling the energy building inside him until he was ready to burst.

But before he could complete the change the man who had punched him grabbed him and threw him into a wall. His focus lost, the change incomplete he laid there against the busted sheetrock wondering how the guy could be so strong.

“None of that shifty business now, just mind your manners and you won’t get hurt,” the large man said, not taking into account that Red probably already had a couple of broken ribs.

Red looked over to Tinker, hoping he was faring better, only to see him unconscious on the floor, three men talking over his prone body. The other one had pulled Big Dog to the side and was speaking to him quietly.

Two more men came through the door in the same uniform, pushing  the prospects in front of them. Squint and Squirt looked terrified. Shit, they were only kids.

In a flash of movement he lunged from the wall directly at the man in front of him, intending to use his muscle and momentum to tear his head off of his body, but it felt like he was met with a brick wall.

The man grabbed him with annoyance and threw him back to the floor where he proceeded to rain vicious kicks all over his body. Red felt his leg break as it was stomped under an unforgiving shiny black shoe, he felt his shoulder crack, then his sternum. Thankfully the next kick was aimed at his head and he drifted into merciful unconsciousness.