“Not like this,” Trev said.
“The crime scene…,” Miller shook his head. “I talked to them both. They cried like babies over it. They jumped Emilio after he escaped and stabbed him. They fucked everything. You put on the leather cut, patched in or prospect, and you know the fucking risks.”
“Aye,” Shay said. “Then we do what Trev said. Set it up.”
“Not Eight Under,” Gaige said. “Landon had a point about their weakness.”
“Coast Road,” Jace said.
“Those fucking meat neck fucks?” Blaine asked.
“Dump the bodies in the water,” Trev said. “Let the tide bring them in. It’ll be a message from us to them.”
“What message is that?” Miller asked.
“Whatever you want to tell Ethan. My advice? We approach Ethan and say that we have two prospects that took off. Went rogue after we confronted them talking to another crew.”
“That’s risky,” Gaige said.
“The bodies wash up and makes our story believable,” Trev said. “Best case, Ethan believes us. Worst case, he doesn’t, but at least the evidence is all gone.”
The table was silent.
Miller slowly sat down and grabbed the gavel. “It could send a clear message to the other prospects around this fucking place. The last couple years have really gutted us. We need to step up and put some fucking warriors in this clubhouse.”
“So we’re voting on it?” Blaine asked.
“What’s your rush?” Gaige asked. “Getting thirsty again?”
“I’m always thirsty,” Blaine said. “A beer in one hand, a tit in the other.”
“Just take the fucking the vote,” Nate said. “I can’t hear anymore talk about tit milk.”
“Let’s vote,” Gaige said. “We take out the prospects, dump them, talk to Ethan, and push this off our backs.”
“All in favor?” Miller asked.
Everyone gave a nod to it.
Nobody opposed the notion.
Miller smacked the gavel and Trev felt his stomach turn a little. Not because he just sealed the death of two guys, but because he was hungry for more of that bacon and sausage.
Nate opened the door to the conference room and Trev saw the women were all standing, looking scared. He reached for his gun and glanced at Blaine.
“Get to Jessa and your kid,” he said. “Protect them.”
“What the fuck is going on?” Miller yelled.
A prospect rushed from behind the bar. “Someone’s out there with a gun.”
“I’ll fucking kill him,” Trev said. “Everyone move.”
“You mean her.”
“What?”
“It’s a woman.”
“A woman with a gun?” Trev asked. He looked back. “Which one of you fucks pissed off the wrong woman?”
“It’s not that,” the prospect said.
“Then what the hell does she want?”
“She wants to talk to Griffin.”
Trev felt his heart sink a little. “Griffin? He’s…” - dead - “… why does she want to talk to Griffin?”
“She keeps saying Griffin is her father and he’s going to protect her.”
*
Trev tucked his gun away and walked across the lot. Sure as shit, there was a woman wielding a gun at the two prospects at the front gate to the compound. Sticking his fingers into his mouth, Trev let out a loud whistle, gaining attention to himself. When he did, one of the prospects tried to make a move and the woman moved quicker. She pulled the trigger and Trev flinched for a second.
When he saw the fear spread across the woman’s face he knew he was going to do just fine with her. She was scared and nothing else.
The bullet hadn’t smashed through the skull of the prospect but rather his right boot. He was jumping up and down calling the woman a bitch.
Trev got close enough and pointed to the gate. “How about we move this party inside here? Not draw attention to the police?”
“Fuck this bitch,” the other prospect said.
Trev swung his hand and cracked the prospect in the mouth. “I gave you a fucking order, prospect. Bring her ass inside here and then take your fucking friend inside the clubhouse to get patched up.” Trev looked at the woman. “You never shot a gun before, have you?”
She raised the gun and pointed at Trev. “Want to find out?”
Trev grinned. “Ah, sweetheart, I have two guns on me and I could have you dead in a second. For all you know, you’re on surveillance and there are snipers on the roof ready to take you out.”
She looked around, getting more nervous.
Trev noticed a mark on the right side of her face. He took out a smoke and lit it up. He exhaled and pointed to her face. “What happened to you?”
“Where’s my father?”
Trev saw the prospects walk away. He then reached for his gun and showed it to the woman. She stepped back and put her back to the gate.
“Please don’t hurt me.”
“I’m not,” Trev said. He took out the clip. “I’m just hanging out. I’d love to talk to you. Hard to concentrate and help you when a gun is being pointed at me. I don’t respond to that.”
“Then get me someone who will,” she said.