Maverick (Satan's Fury MC, #1)

“Ms. Gray, did you know that placing a false report is against the law,” he scolded with his voice deep and forceful.

“What? What are you talking about?” I asked defensively.

“We went to the location, and there was no sign of any disturbance. It’s the middle of the night, Ms. Gray. You wasted our time and the tax payers’ dollars.”

“That can’t be right. I saw them…. They shot him right in front of me! There had to be something… a body or blood?” I pleaded with him, trying to make him believe me.

“There was nothing. I don’t know what to tell you, Ms. Gray. We didn’t find anything. If there really was a shooting, they did one hell of a job of covering their tracks.”

“What am I supposed to do now?” I asked.

“We’ll go back and check things out again in the morning. I’ll contact you if we find anything,” he said flatly. From the sound of his voice, I could tell that he had no intention of going back. I was regretting calling them in the first place. Hopefully, the club would be able to figure out what the hell happened.





Chapter 5




Maverick

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My phone had been ringing for several minutes, before I managed to pull off the road to answer it. When I looked at the screen and saw that it was Guardrail, I immediately became uneasy. He wouldn’t be calling so early in the morning unless there was something wrong. When he told me that Cotton had called us all in to meet at church, I knew without a doubt that something was off. It was in his voice… he sounded shaken, and it wasn’t like him at all. Guardrail had been VP of Satan’s Fury for as long as I could remember, and it took a lot to rattle him. Whatever was going on, it wasn’t good.

When I drove through the gate, I was instantly overcome with a feeling of dread. The parking lot was filled with my brother’s bikes, but everything was still. No music from the bar, no talking or laughing… just an eerie silence that sent chills down my spine. As soon as I parked my bike, I headed straight for the meeting room. All of the brothers were sitting around the long oak table, their faces marked with grief. There were no words or expressions of greetings – this was not a typical call to church.

“Have a seat, Maverick,” Cotton ordered with a strained voice. “Been waiting on you to get started.”

As soon as I took my seat, I looked over to Guardrail, searching for some sign of what the hell was going on. His face was completely void of expression as he looked at the wall in front of him. Yeah, something was definitely wrong. My eyes wandered over to Stitch. His face was twisted with anguish, and the veins around his neck pulsed with rage. I could feel the anger vibrating off of him as he sat back in his chair with his fists clenched tight. He was the club Enforcer, and at 6’9”, he was not a man you wanted to tangle with. The hell that man was capable of inflicting would humble anyone. He’d never backed down from anything, and he had the scars to prove it, leaving no doubt how he got his road name. Looking at him, I could see the fury literally rolling off of him. Whoever had fucked up, Stitch was going to make them pay.

The tension in the room crackled around us as Cotton said, “As some of you already know, we lost one of our own last night.”

Stitch slammed his fist down on the table as he growled, “Someone was trying to send us a message with Skidrow’s death. Whoever the hell it was, they can consider the message fucking received!”

“There’s no doubt that they were trying to make a statement. One of the prospects found him this morning out by the main gate… tossed out like trash by the side of the road,” Cotton continued. Anger flashed through his eyes as he proceeded to explain everything that had happened. “His patch had been removed, and any sign of Satan’s Fury on his body had been burned.”

“Who do you think did this?” I asked, still trying to make sense of everything he’d just said. They hadn’t just killed one of our brothers… they had insulted our club to the highest degree by desecrating any and all signs of our club’s name on Skidrow’s body.

“Tony’s old crew wouldn’t have the balls to do something like this. It had to be someone else,” Guardrail scowled, as he looked over to me.

“I want every man on this. I want to know where he was… who he’s been talking to. Hell, I want to know what he had for dinner last night. Any fucking thing that might help us find out who did this.”

Everyone nodded in agreement. It would only be a matter of time before we were able to track down the motherfuckers that did this. Our club had eyes and ears in places no one would ever expect. Whoever had done this had fucked with the wrong club.

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