“What’d he say?” Pipe asked.
“Nothing, just that he’ll be sending me a video including his demands,” he said, diverting his eyes toward me. “Get a wire on that thing and get it done fast,” he ordered, before pushing back his chair and storming out of Chapel.
Everyone cleared out of the room and I grabbed the phone.
“Riggs,” Bones called from the door.
“Yeah?”
“Whatever happens…” his words trailed off.
“Stay safe,” I finished for him. “You too,” I added.
He nodded in agreement before taking off with Pipe. I hurried up the stairs to get my equipment and work at tapping Jack’s phone. Before I could even get started the message came through on his phone, missing the opportunity to trace it.
Strike one.
Shit.
I ran toward Jack’s room and pounded on the door.
“Come in,” he called as I opened the door.
“Message came through before I could get a tap,” I said, handing him over the phone.
The moment he hit play, the stakes in the game changed. I actually wished I wasn’t the only man in the room with him because I had no idea how to reel Jack in, but then again, he wasn’t Jack.
Jack died when he played that message.
A more vicious man emerged from the ashes.
Now, he was the Bulldog.
Heaven help us all.
“Bulldog…” I started, mesmerized by the transformation. “Jack, man, come on, don’t go there,” I said, gripping his shoulders and twisting his body around so we’d be eye to eye. “You can’t lose it, not now,” I reprimanded.
We needed a leader.
He brushed my hands from his shoulders and shoved me out of the way.
“Get your hands off me,” he bellowed, stalking out of the room.
I ran after him, fucking man was pushing forty but he was a goddamn machine. I needed to lay off the cigarettes…and the pot.
“Stop him!” I shouted, running down the stairs behind him. “Pipe! Wolf!”
“Get out of my way,” he demanded, as they barricaded the staircase.
Thank Christ.
“Jimmy sent the video,” I explained in a huff, trying to catch my fucking breath as I handed the phone to Pipe. Bianci switched places with Pipe, blocking Jack from making a move so Pipe could watch the video. The second Jimmy’s voice sounded, Jack lurched for the phone and I grabbed the back of his cut as Bianci leaned his weight on Jack and we held him back.
How’s that for teamwork?
“Jesus Christ,” Pipe said, as Jimmy’s voice sounded over the phone stating his demands and threats, a quarter of a million dollars in heroin or they die.
Ever see a bunch of bikers go into panic mode? Shit, ain’t pretty.
Thankfully, Pipe was able to hold his shit together and forced us to pull our heads out of our asses and drag them into the Chapel.
“We have twenty-four hours to give him what he wants,” Pipe informed everyone.
“We can’t get the drugs,” Jack hissed.
“I don’t follow, you just told us that was the plan from the beginning. You were going to supply him with the drugs and set him up. What’s the fucking problem?”
And there went Pipe, cracking at the seams. He was doing such a good job at holding it together…until this.
“The problem is that Blackie had the connection to the drugs with a club up north. He’s been controlling the deal with them. There isn’t enough time to go on a run, and even if there was, what are we supposed to carry the product in, our saddlebags?” Jack retorted.
There was no time.
No time and no drugs.
We were fucked.
Then I remembered my extracurricular activities and uncovering the Red Dragons’ stash house. Those naked bitches were cutting mounds of heroin. There was an easy three mill in product over there, if not more.
The fucking place was wired with surveillance.
Thanks to me.
Good job, Riggs.
I could probably cut the feed but that would take time and with all this back and forth at the table it seemed like we were stretching these twenty-four hours thin. We still needed to grab the dealers and get Jimmy away from wherever he was keeping Blackie and Reina. And then, there were the guns. The plan was go to Pops and dip into the shipment we were preparing for Wu.
Poor guy, had no idea how hard we were going to fuck him up the ass.
“That leaves the drugs,” Wolf said, and the room grew quiet again.
“I know where we can get the drugs,” I said, breaking the silence and locking eyes with my president. “But if we do this, we might as well sign our own death certificates,” I added, shoving the dildo up the Red Dragons’ ass with my words.
How’s that feel Wu?
“I’d rather sign my own death certificate than either of theirs,” Jack replied.
The words signed to the doctrine, contracting us to fucking kill the truce with the Red Dragons.
A creed of bloodshed.
A creed signed by yours truly.
Love, Riggs.
Chapter Sixteen