Tank shook his head. “Tanner didn’t know. She weren’t going back to Klan HQ, that’s for sure. Looks like it was a cash run. Came from outside. Someone wanted her and no doubt paid a shit ton for the Klan to carry out the dirty work. Whoever it was didn’t want us to know it was them.”
I stepped forward, quickly losing my last shred of patience. “We need a name, a location, something to go off. We don’t get it, I have fuck all problem going over to Klan Kunt with a motherfuckin’ flame thrower in hand and an arsenal of semi-automatics to tear the fuckin’ place apart.
Tank ran his hand over his shank scar, eyes to the ground as he thought shit through. I never broke my stare on the brother, thinking up some goddamn creative ways of slitting Nazi throats. Tank eventually lifted his head and addressed Styx.
“Tanner gets us this intel and he’s dead. We gotta give him our protection. Hell, we’re gonna have to keep him in hiding here. They’ll lynch him if he’s found out giving up their business, and knowing Landry, he will find out. I ain’t losing one of my best friends without doing everything in my power to cover his ass first.”
“He ride?” Bull asked.
“Like a motherfuckin’ bat outta hell,” Tank replied. “Strong bastard too and a fuckin’ genius. Can hack into anything, get intel on anyone, anytime. The brother got skills… skills we could use. We got more enemies piling up at our door than we can count. Tanner could be a fuckin’ golden asset.”
“Why the fuck’s someone like that in the Klan?” Smiler asked, the question I’m sure we all were asking.
Tank’s eyes narrowed as he looked at each brother. “His old man brought him up White Power and hating every fucker else. He’s rooted deep in Texas Klan, never known no different. Not sure you’re getting how fucked they’d all be if he left. He’s their motherfuckin’ golden child.”
“Who’s his old man, Hitler?” Vike tried to joke, but Tank’s jaw clenched and he shook his head.
“His family line ain’t public knowledge and that’s they way he likes it.”
Styx broke from his frozen position and walked forward, signing, “You’re a Hangmen first and this racist fuck’s friend second, so you better get to sharing. And brother, that ain’t a request.”
It was the first time I’d seen Tank pissed at Styx, but knowing Styx wasn’t up for bullshitting, he replied. “Sometimes you’re a fuckin’ cunt, Styx. A goddamn cunt! I swore I’d never tell! The guy did a shit ton for me when I wanted to get out of the Klan, and if it weren’t for him, I’d have been with the boatman and now burning in hell,” Tank hissed.
Styx remained stoic and crossed his arms over his chest, a hard, expectant expression on his face.
No one at the club fucked with the Hangmen Mute.
“Fuck! Fine! His old man is… Governor Ayers,” Tank spat icily.
“Governor Ayers is a Nazi?” I asked tightly, Styx’s eyes widening. That guy controlled all’a Texas. And we paid him a shit ton of green annually to overlook our businesses. Hell, we went to war with White Power, we got feds and cops suddenly coming our way from every fuckin’ angle.
“Fuckin’ Imperial Grand Wizard of all Texas,” Tank said. “The guy is one of the leaders for the whole US of A.”
“Fuck!” Vike spat, and Tank’s shoulders sagged.
“What?” I asked Tank.
“That’s not all.”
“Then fuckin’ speak!” Styx signed, all his patience gone, and I swore Tank was actually gonna try and send his prez to the boatman. Bull put his hand on Tank’s shoulder, holding him back as Styx smirked, taunting the brother to even try.
Some fucker wanted to kidnap Mae. Styx weren’t to be fucked with right now… and neither was I. I was with Styx all the way. Those Klan fuckers took my bitch.