For Her Honor (16 page)

As the food sizzled on the grill, everyone began making plates of sides.
Karen had been introduced to everyone, and counted seven Skulls, not including the two prospects – one who was named Zippy. The youngest member, Wes, was chasing Kelly and Tanner’s son Louis around the yard while the toddler giggled uncontrollably. Everyone else was mellow and laid back, not the rowdy bunch of belching, cursing bikers most people would peg them as. She and Taz had kept distance between them as she busied herself with helping the women, but maintained eye contact.

She went inside to get more napkins when she ran smack into a woman walking in
from the dining room. “Hello?”

“Hi.”
Something about her was familiar to Karen. She’d seen her somewhere before, but couldn’t place it. Then it came to her.

“The bakery.”
The woman answered for her, pointing a well-manicured nail at her while a black satchel hung from her arm. “You must be the new girl working for Eva.”

She was around Janice’s age, but a little more high maintenance in the hair and fashion department.
She was tall, chic and sharply dressed in a celery-green, sleeveless dress and a silver chain belt which hung low on her hips. “Yes. Karen Hanson.”

“
Elle Connors.”

Elle.
The woman Tina was wrapping up all that pastry for the day she’d come to see Janice about a realtor. Dressed as she was, she was either coming from or heading to something else, because she was a bit overdressed for a cookout. She sure didn’t look like a biker’s wife. Then again, Eva and Kelly didn’t look like they belonged with bikers either. They were smart, decent women who led ordinary lives, just like her.

The kind Janice wanted
for her son.

“Everyone’s outside.”

“I can see that.”

“Hey
, Elle.” Janice had come through the slider looking Elle up and down. “Don’t tell me you’ve got some town shit today?”

“John Owens’ birthday. Little Italian place down in New Cumberland. Just need to find my husband first then go make an appearance.”

“Ho
w’s he doing?” Janice asked. “I heard his house got broken into.”

“He’s just fine, Janice.
”

“Do they know who…..”

“No,” Elle sharply answered. “Listen, I’m going to say hi to everyone, then I have to leave.” She cut Janice off then looked at Karen. “Nice meeting you.”

Both women watched Elle sashay through the kitchen and out the slider
, where she was met with open arms by Vic. Karen couldn’t help noticing the irked look on Janice’s face. “Something tells me you two don’t get along.”

Janice shrugged.
“Let’s just say that Elle is my Betsy.”

Karen understood completely.
“So, what’s this about a house getting broken into?”

~~~***~~~

“Sorry about breaking the ‘no business on Sunday’ rule, gentlemen.” Vic cornered Taz and Aero after seeing his wife off. “Just got a call from Adamo’s number two. Needs emergency security detail at one of the rings over in Belmont - tonight. Action starts at nine, wraps up around three in the morning. Stay behind for the count, then escort the take.” He slapped them both on the backs. “You leave around seven-thirty, so get some rest.”

Vic left and Aero blew a breath out.
“Not the kind of restful Sunday night I had planned.”

“Me neither.”
Usually, Taz’s idea of ‘rest’ was heading back to the clubhouse and sandwiching himself between two honeys for the night. It’s how he ended most of his days - Saturday nights especially, when the club blew off steam with their own special kind of party. But ever since the Caprese business had begun bringing in good cash and Big Ben had gotten married, Saturday nights had become more mellow than mayhem. Oh, girls came from all over to earn a notch in their garter belt with an outlaw, but the entire Santagio mess – though settled – made them more laid back. They still partied, but not to the point where they didn’t keep their wits. And it was instances such as these last minute jobs that were the reason. They never knew when the
family
was going to phone in something the Skulls were in no position to turn down. Gaining favor with their new business associate, and the additional cash which came from it, was about establishing trust and cooperation. They didn’t want wayward actions jeopardizing their credibility.

And everyone seemed to be settling down along with the method.
But Taz had never thought giving up a carousel of pussy would have any effect on how he did his duty for the club. For over a decade his ma had been trying to keep his head from between some slut’s legs. He didn’t smoke or do drugs. Sex was the one vice he indulged in, which erased the other vices he performed for the club. He just never thought one woman was enough to wipe his messy blackboard clean. The fact he’d found himself at Karen’s on a party night, had woken up with her in the morning and brought her a club get-together on his bike was enough for him to realize that he was being sucked into this change.

It
had happened without him even realizing it.

He found himself next to her as he pulled a mini lemon tart off a tray and popped it in
to his mouth. “Need to leave soon. Gotta get some rest before headin’ out later.”

“Oh.”
He gauged her reaction and waited for it. “Okay. I was gonna stay and help Eva clean up. Maybe I can get a ride home with your mother.”

She didn’t ask questions
, and he wondered if that was a good or bad thing. Maybe his ma had given her what little background knowledge she could. He weighed the option and felt it was best for her stay. “A’ight.”

“Here.”
She searched for her purse hanging on the back of a folding chair, reached in and pulled out her keys. “I have a spare in my wallet.”

He shook his head. “Nah, sweetheart.
Gonna catch some shuteye at the clubhouse so me and Aero can head out together around seven-thirty.”

“Keep it.” She pulled it off the ring and slipped it in
to his cut pocket. “For when you come back.”

“Probably w
on’t be back until tomorrow mornin’.”

Now that earned a questioning
look. “Taz, what….?”

He gave her a q
uick kiss. “Shhh, not now. But we will.”

If he was going to do this, at some point, he’d have to be straight with her.
Having a civilian woman in his bed was one thing. Having her in his life was another. Wes had done a thorough search on both her and Preston Vine and nothing had come up with their names linked, so she wasn’t carrying any secret baggage which could come back to bite her – or the club. If she was going to be on board with this, he had to make sure where she stood. She’d already left a fiancé rotting in jail, only to wind up with one who’d already done time – and could very well possibly do it again if anything ever went south.

She swallowed hard and nodded.
“Is everything okay? Your mom was telling me about some town guy whose house got broken into.”

“Everything’s fine.
It’s just some last minute club business. Text me when you get home. Make sure everything’s locked up. We’ll talk.” He kissed her one more time before Aero flagged him down to leave. “I promise.”

It was when he started up
his bike that he realized he had just made a promise to a woman.

Holy shit, he was in deep.

Chapter Sixteen

Underground was an understatement.

One would think a mafia gambling ring would resemble some scene out of
Casino
. But the Caprese establishments were nondescript and well-hidden, mostly in various buildings owned by the family which operated cleanly by day. After-hours brought out anyone who could afford a five hundred dollar cover charge and keep their trap shut. Offerings of poker, craps, roulette and blackjack brought out blue-collar clientele who blew their paycheck looking to take a chance and strike it big.

Taz wrinkled his n
ose in the lower level of a dry cleaner’s in the industrial district of Belmont, Ohio. It reeked of chemicals, booze, sweat and cigar smoke. It was two a.m., and the barely two hours of choppy sleep he’d had earlier was beginning to take its toll. Maybe he should’ve gone to Karen’s to crash in her cool bedroom, but he’d thought better of it. These security details were huge deals, and he needed to keep his focus, even as he tossed and turned in the choking heat of his dorm at the clubhouse.

The Sunday night gambling scene wasn’t as big as the weekends, but there was a decent crowd.
The only guys in suits were the Caprese men who watched the dealers and possible card counters like hawks while he and Aero supplied the ‘muscle’ in case things got squirrely. Both Skulls took turns manning the stairwell leading from the main level where another Caprese worked the door, taking the cover fee and ridding entrants of their cell phones, keys or possible weapons, which were locked up. At the end of the night, they either squared with the house or they didn’t leave. Jackie Jones had taught them a hard lesson. He had been lucky to make it out of the rings at night and had almost made it out of the country.

The lights were dimmed as it was tim
e to wrap up the night. Players were either escorted to pay the house or upstairs to retrieve their belongings. Aero had a bit of a tussle with one guy who’d lost big and had literally pulled his last dollar out of his wallet before personally walking him up and out. Taz stayed below with the two Caprese men as they counted the take and prepared for the deposit transport while several younger men scurried about to clean and close up the gaming. By the time they departed around two-forty-five a.m., the place showed not a speck of evidence that several hours of hard, illegal gambling had just taken place.

The two Skulls then escorted a blacked
-out Mercedes SUV carrying the two Caprese men and the cash west on Interstate 70 for an exchange at the 77 intersection, with men who would further take it north. After that they would just retrace their steps east then back up to Tippitt. Taz had gotten a text earlier from Karen that she had arrived home safely and that everything was locked down tight. Whoever had broken into John Owens’ house most likely wouldn’t return to hit the same area twice, but it was better to be safe than sorry. The night was warm, and to climb between the cool sheets with her after a long ride back sounded like heaven. He knew she kept her phone by the bed, and he decided to text her as soon as the exchange was done and they were on their way back. The clubhouse had been his home in between pitstops at his ma’s house since he’d earned his patch, and here he was playing house with a woman who’d barely been in his life a month.

Taking up the back
, Taz coasted around 45 mph while Aero led up front – the SUV situated at a safe distance between them. The traffic was light and the ride smooth, as the night was slowly preparing to make its way towards dawn. This is what he loved, the call of the road and the freedom to answer it. It was the only answering he’d done since that prospect cut was put on his back.

But there had been a different air about the
club since last November. With the installation of new charters and the narcotics runs – taken back from the Santagio family – being handed over, the Tippitt Skulls were able to keep their outlaw business under wraps while keeping their honest business in the forefront. Guys like Ben, Aero – even Doug – were beginning to feel more at ease and attempted to establish more of a personal life outside the club. And how convenient that Miss Karen Hanson happened to be on his radar as this realization slowly came over him? Or was it coincidence? Right now, he saw it clear as day.

What he failed to see was
the white pickup truck coming out of nowhere.

Practically sideswiped, Taz careened his bike as he heard the first bulle
t fly. The SUV lost control before spinning to the shoulder. Aero narrowly escaped laying his bike down as he ducked before skidding to a stop. It all happened in a matter of seconds, but seemed as if it went on for minutes. The truck jumped the median and began to fire shots from the other side as it prepared to come back around. Aero and Taz had their guns pulled, while the two Caprese men exited the SUV from the other side so that they weren’t facing the road. Both had their guns drawn as well, as they waited for the pickup to make another pass. All four men aimed, spraying the truck with bullets as it barreled towards them. One of the Caprese men jumped out to get a clear shot through the windshield, while the other – along with Aero – aimed for the tires. Taz saw that it wasn’t the driver shooting, but someone huddled in the back of the cab area. He jumped out, stepping in front of the Caprese who had been focused on the unarmed driver, and aimed for the passenger in the back. As he did, the passenger got one shot out before the truck began to lose control. Full of bullet holes and riding on two rims, it tore down 70 as far as its mangled body could take it.

The two Caprese
s and Aero surveyed the damage to the SUV, which also consisted of a blown tire so they couldn’t follow. “We’ll go on our bikes,” Aero told them. “Taz!”

Taz barely heard his V.P.
In fact all the noises around him were muted before the draining blood caused by the bullet, which had torn through his shoulder and caused him to black out.

~~~***~~~

There were only sounds. Muffled voices. Ones Taz didn’t recognize, along with his surroundings. He wasn’t in the clubhouse or a hospital or even the fiery depths of Hades, where he was sure he’d wind up if he died. Instead he was comfortable. That’s it. It was all a dream. He was at Karen’s in her bed, and he forced his eyes open to turn towards her.

And the
n the pain wracked him.

“Easy, Mr. Morrell.
The Dilaudid’s beginning to wear off.”

“Huh?
Dildo…..what?”

He heard a deep, rumbled chuckle.
“Hydromorphone. For the pain. Just dug that bullet out of your shoulder and patched you up.”

Taz struggled to focus in his loopy condition at the man standing above him.
If Clemenza from
The Godfather
and Alfred Hitchcock had procreated, the result would be the black-suited, rotund man hovering over the bed. Blinking several times, he took in the room, which was ornately decorated with carved wood moldings, ceiling medallions, tasteful artwork and pedestaled statues. “Where am I?”

Alfred Clemenza peeled back a bandage on Taz’s ri
ght shoulder to take a look. “You’re in one of the Caprese estates. The two men you and your partner escorted earlier this morning called for transport. Hospital was out of the question.”

“You’re…..?”

“The family doctor.”

He rewrapped the wound as Taz struggled to get up.
“I gotta…..where’s…..where’s Aero?”

The doctor gently pushed him back down.
“Rest, Mr. Morrell. Mr. Sindell is waiting in the main house. Your club’s bringing transportation to bring you home. Just relax.” He retrieved a bottle of pills. “How’s the pain?”

Taz felt like someone
had taken a blow torch to his shoulder, but he needed to keep what consciousness he had. He hadn’t a fucking clue who this guy was, even if he had sewn him up. He needed to see Aero and make sure these weren’t some crazy-ass fucks who’d snatched them up from the side of the road. “No. No pills. Not yet. Aero. Lemme see him. Need to know he’s whole.”

“He’s fine.”

“Ain’t takin’ the word of someone I don’t know.”

“Then how
about the word of someone who saved your life?”

“Just….lemme…..”

“I said relax, Mr. Morrell, or you’ll bust these fine stitches.”

Why was this guy calling him by his surname?
Then he remembered. He had to be a Caprese. The late
don
Carmine knew each and every one of the Skulls’ real identities. He wasn’t about to propose business to anyone he hadn’t searched tooth and nail. He remembered the night Antonio Conti showed up at the club and addressed Aero as
Captain
Sindell - his Air Force rank. “Why so formal? Name’s Taz.” He just needed to talk to stay alert.

“No, your name is Gabriel
. Did you know it means
man of God
?”

Ha!
That made Taz snort. These Italian-Catholics and their religious meaning behind everything. “Don’t think my ma knew that, else she would’ve named me Lucifer.”

The doctor mad
e the sign of the cross. “
Gesu Cristo
.” He sounded appalled. “We all have good in us, no matter who we really are.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

“How appropriate the two of you were there tonight.
Christopher is Mr. Sindell’s given name.” The doctor paused to think. “Christopher and Gabriel - two of God’s favored angels.”

Taz gave up, the pain making it difficult to form words
to tell this guy to stop spewing his religious nonsense. A soft knock on the door was accompanied by a voice on the other end. “
Benedetto?”

The doctor opened the door as Taz lifted his head which felt like lead.
Vic came in, Aero right behind.
Thank Gesu Cristo
, he mimicked to himself. Aero nudged his foot at the bottom of the bed. “Ready for your carriage ride home, Cinderella?”

“Fuck you.”

Benedetto cleared his throat as he wrote something down. “I’m sure you gentleman won’t be taking him to a clinic for a follow-up. “Here.” He handed the paper to Vic. “These are instructions for cleaning the wound. His vitals are good and no fever, so no need to worry about infection. These,” he held up a bottle containing six pills,” are for the pain. When they’re gone, he’s on his own, so make them last. I don’t give out more than what’s needed. Any questions?”

Vic sho
ok his head and held out his hand. “I appreciate this,
amici
.”

Benedetto’s big belly jiggled with his l
augh as he shook Vic’s hand. “I see you’ve been brushing up on your Italian, Mr. Connors.” He then nodded to someone standing behind Vic before leaving the room. Vic turned around to see who it was, then looked as if he’d had to catch himself from reacting. Having dealt squarely with Antonio Conti since this pairing began, Taz barely recognized Adamo Caprese. The only time he’d seen the new
don
was the night they’d brought Eva to Carmine’s estate back in November. Adamo had reclaimed and strengthened the east coast heroin pipeline the Capreses had dominated for years, while sending a strong message to the Santagio family, who’d stupidly tried to muscle in on it while Carmine was on his deathbed.

“Victor.”
Adamo was late thirties with angular features, clean-cut olive complexion and wavy, black hair. Even with dawn beginning to break outside, he looked fresh and alert.

The Skulls president gave a respectful nod.
“Thank you for taking care of my man.”

Adamo swept a glance towards Taz
, who was fending off Aero trying to sit him up. “Because of him, my man is alive. Didn’t see the shooter in the back seat,” he jerked his head towards Taz, “but he did. Stepped in front of my guy and fired, but not before taking that bullet.” Adamo then put a bit of distance between them. “I will be honest with you, Victor. I wasn’t on board with my father employing a motorcycle club, no matter the connection to my half-sister. We rarely – if ever – go outside the family. But you proved me wrong.” He glanced at Taz, who walked over on shaky legs. “Things have been going well, so we didn’t have to test your dedication.”

“I gave Carmine my word,” Vic told him.
“And I value that word as much as I do the patch on my back.”

Adamo nodded.
“Can I have your word that you’ll track down who did this?”

“Without question.”
Vic turned to his two men. “What do we know?”

“White pickup
– Ford I think,” Aero answered.

“
With lotsa damage,” Taz added, biting back the pain.

Aero nodded.
“It had to be someone who was there last night. Someone who waited and saw us escorting the money out and followed us. We took two tires out. They peeled away practically on the rims. Don’t think they got too far. I’d say they couldn’t have gotten farther than the nearest exit.”

“Then the vehicle had to be dumped somewhere off there,” Adamo said.

“
A shot-up truck missing two tires – should be easy to find.” Vic rubbed his chin. “Unless they try to trash it. We’ve got brothers in Lakeland. If it has to do with a vehicle, they’ll know.”