Outlaw's Wrath - An MC Brotherhood Romance Boxed Set (37 page)

Knight took in his breath and let it out. “So, as a member of this tribunal, I say no, I do not see a brother before me.”

It took a moment, and it obviously caused Ben some pain, but he said, “Nor I.”

Larry was quicker but just as distressed when he said, “Nor I.”

“Oh god, no,” whimpered Daphne, and Cyn held her tight, both of them in tears.

Knight nodded, and he looked at the men holding Derrick. “So be it. I feel that simple banishment is enough. Remove his patch and get him on his bike. Derrick, you have thirty days to move out of our territory since your apartment is in downtown Lakeside. The consequences will be harsh if you fail in this or if you return. Get him out of here.”

They dragged Derrick out of the door, and only the choked wails of Daphne followed him.

Knight turned his attention on her. “Daphne?”

She looked at him like a doe looks into the headlights of an oncoming truck.

Knight didn’t wait for a verbal response; it was obvious he had her attention. “If you leave with him now, it is too symbolic. I’m sorry; you’ll be banished with him. But I like you, and I can’t think of a single member who doesn’t. So, I’m asking: Let him leave alone. Anyone in this room will let you ride behind them to follow him home as soon as he hits the road, but please, let him leave alone.”

The sound of hits and angered pain came from outside through the glass as three men took Derrick’s colors, leaving him on the blacktop in the process. Then they hauled him to his feet and got him on his bike. Derrick’s bike started after another kidney shot to urge him on. He seemed to wait, though, even with the punches urging him to take off.

Daphne wailed and ran for the door, and then stopped and ran back to Cynthia’s arms. “Why am I staying?” she screamed, “
He
can’t come back here!”

Then Derrick’s bike roared to life and shot out of the parking lot and onto the road.

“Tell him that we held you back,” Cynthia whispered. “Tell him we said he had to leave alone. Now, come on. I’ll ride you home.”

She held Daphne close all the way outside as sobs wracked her body. Two other sisters came to her, telling her to call them, that they would come get her any time. They told her they could also help with the move if she wanted. They were honestly concerned.

Daphne got on the back of the Lowrider, and she held Cyn tight as she started the engine and left the club.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“Even after all of that,” Knight said, slightly amazed and after the door to his office was closed, “I almost couldn’t do it.”

Ben looked over at him as he leaned against the wall near Knight’s desk. “I know what you mean. It had to be done, but I know exactly what you mean.”

“That was the problem,” Knight replied. He showed his age as he slowly sat down in his chair. “It wasn’t called because Hank here wanted it called. It wasn’t pure. Derrick stumbled into our plans, and because of his own personality, he had to be removed. The tribunal was a sham, really. Derrick had to be discredited and put down so hard that no one would give what he said a second thought.” Knight nodded to himself and looked at Ben. “That’s why it feels so wrong.”

Ben grunted agreement and looked to Hank. “So, what now?”

Hank got more comfortable in the chair and said, “I’m back in there on Thursday. I’ll have more freedom of movement than I have had these last eight months. I’ll spend more nights at home, at least, and a few days. But really, it will be more of the same.”

“What do you see in Derrick’s future, shaman?” Knight asked Hank.

“I don’t know. We just took the last shreds of restraint from him. It had to be done, I agree, because of the public level of his actions. However, while we have controlled the fold, we have unleashed the wolf. The rumor will not spread, but Derrick has even more grist for his mill.”

“What can he do?” Ben said has he spat.

Knight looked at him. “He can go to Orlin Ruiz and tell him the story. He can name Hank as our man, and Hank’s life will be violently and very painfully ended.”

Ben was aghast by this possibility. “But, no, but how could he? Oh shit.” He looked at Hank. “How can you safeguard against this?”

“I don’t know if I can, but I am certainly in too far to stop now. They know where I live, who I see — I have to show up Thursday. There is no question about that, or all is lost anyway.”

“
Who you see
… yes,” Knight emphasized, with a sad smile. “Perhaps not the best timing there.” 

“In my experience, it has never been good timing,” Hank countered.

“In your experience, were cartel death squads involved?” Knight pressed.

“No, not so far. And I am praying I’ll be able to say that two weeks from now,” Hank admitted. “How goes the short list of men for the drop?” Hank asked, changing the subject.

“So far, it consists of Ben, James, Rick Walker, and Halo. That’s five. I need five more, if what you suggested was true.”

“Then you definitely need five more,” Hank assured him.

“Should we, like, I don’t know, keep an eye on Derrick? Or something? Realizing what he is capable of now really has me nervous about this whole thing,” Ben said. He looked at Hank. “I mean, hell, you and I have never been close, and you rub me the wrong way more often than not, but … shit. I wouldn’t wish this on Derrick, for crying out loud.”

Hank rubbed his temple with his right hand, “There’s no way we can have men watching Derrick’s movements without adding credence to his claim and starting up what we just finished putting down. Besides, he could just call. He doesn’t have to go over.”

“There’s got to be something we can do. This is too fucking important,” Ben said, crossing his thick arms and looking even more brutish than usual.

“There is,” Hank assured him. “There is, and we’ll come up with it. Probably not tonight, since not one of us is thinking as clearly as we should, but soon.”

“What is your biggest threat right now with the Ruiz situation, setting aside the possible workings of Derrick?” Knight asked.

“A man named Ernando Delvalle. He’s an enforcer who by blood is very close to Orlin. A cousin, if I read things right, by his mother’s sister. Ernando doesn’t like me. I scare him. He didn’t like my tricks of observation. I not only set him on edge. It gave him the unshakable belief that I was there to do harm to Orlin and the cartel. Nothing, not even Orlin ordering him to stop, has deterred him from digging further and further into my life.” Hank added, “I may require a sanction on him.”

Knight drummed his fingers. “A sanction to break the guidelines and kill him, you are saying.”

“Yes,” Hank told him calmly.

“Perhaps a red herring will work? Give him a scent to follow, and let him run until his heart bursts?” Knight asked.

“Possibly,” Hank agreed. “He was in Lakeside on Saturday morning, searching for me. As luck had it, he found me as well, at the farmers' market.”

“Wow, that’s some bad luck, bro.” Ben laughed softly in amazement.

“Extremely tenacious, then,” Knight mused.

“Extremely, with rather low intelligence. Dogged and literal. A dangerous combination to go up against with red herrings.”

Knight met his eyes and sighed. “I see your point, yes. It is difficult to tantalize the imagination of a man who has no imagination.”

“Daphne,” Hank suddenly sighed with a small smile.

“Yes? What about her?”

“She’s close with Cyn. In fact, I’m sure she gave Cyn the heads up about tonight just before I got over there. Cyn told me that Daphne caught her up on the Howey and Margaret story, and going over the short conversation, I believe she was attempting to reconcile me with the idea that I was working for Don Ruiz.”

“Really? And she came riding in here with you anyway?” Ben asked, duly impressed.

“Yes.” Hank smiled at him. “Apparently I passed the test, whatever it was. More importantly, I think Daphne will keep Cyn informed with what Derrick is up to. Cyn told me they talk every day on the phone, sometimes more.”

“That sounds promising. Yes,” Knight agreed. “At least we won’t be completely in the dark.”

“So,” Ben started hesitantly, “you’re thinking about bringing Cyn in a little on this? I mean, so far, how often has she relayed to you what she and Daphne and have girl-talked about?”

“Not at all, except for what I believe was a feeler earlier tonight. Cyn — well, I don’t think she’s the type to mix friend streams much, unless the friends in question do it as well. She’s not a gossip at all, I’m afraid.”

“But when she was given something like the Ruiz matter,” Knight said, “she talked to you about it. Yes, indirectly, and while keeping the faith with Daphne, but she did come to you. I think if she were told that Derrick was going to harm you or the club with actions Daphne witnessed, Cyn would tell you. On her own.”

“If it is the club, she may come directly to you. After all, I’m just her boyfriend; you’re her president,” Hank pointed out.

Knight explored that idea with a warm smile. “Did you see her? With Daphne while the tribunal was going on? I tried to give her a warning shot, a glare, to encourage her to distance herself from Daphne. She gave me one right back.” He chuckled. “She might as well have shouted at me that Daphne
did
have someone to stand by her, and that someone had a knife.”

Ben joined him with the humor. “She did look fierce, I’ll give her that.”

“I think there’s more than looks there, and Hank, I would give serious thought before cheating on her.” Knight laughed. “Very serious thought. Not saying anything, just pointing out some bloody obvious facts.”

“Thanks for the advice, but I’ve already been warned, more or less, by her.” Hank grinned.

“Have you noticed how she wears her knife?” Ben asked, more subdued.

“On the left, yes,” Knight agreed.

“My grandfather wore his like that,” Ben mused, “and the stories were that he was fucking merciless with that blade in combat. He was a merchant marine and fought against actual pirates more than a few times.”

“Well, I did get the impression that the knife wasn’t there as an accessory,” Knight agreed. “This is the first time I’ve seen her with it as well,” he pointed out thoughtfully.

Hank lifted an eyebrow. “You think she came in expecting it might be necessary to fight her way out?”

Knight gave that some thought, and said carefully, “I think that if Derrick’s witch hunt tonight had gone in the direction he planned, Derrick would have discovered he had bit off more than he could chew, yes. I suspect that it would have taken more than a strong word or threat to get her from your back. She rode in with you, and she intended to ride out with you.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Cynthia was sitting on the edge of her bed looking at her hands when Hank called her.

“Yes?” she said.

“I’ve got some fried, greasy chicken tenders, onion rings, shrimp, and cheese sticks here — enough for four, really. Feel like getting comfortable with some incredibly unhealthy food?”

She smiled. “Couldn’t you have just as easily asked for chicken Caesar salad?”

“Maybe, but I have a rep to protect, ya know? Besides, salad and saddle bags?”

She pictured this and agreed. “Probably not the best pairing. But more to the point, I would like you to be here. I’m feeling rather low at the moment. Daphne is really torn up, and there’s nothing I can do to help her.”

“I’m on my way then with comfortable food and intentions.”

“See you soon,” she said, and broke the connection.

That was nice,
she thought.
Really nice.

She hadn’t been sure she would occupy any space in his head tonight, with everything that was going on. She had nearly convinced herself that there were things afoot which would be far more important than her. It was good to know that wasn’t the case.

It was also good to know that going to Daphne didn’t make her one to be looked on with contempt. Not that anyone’s contempt mattered to her. Daphne had no one, and Cyn wasn’t going to let that happen. More than twenty women were in that bar tonight who should have been beside her as well, but that wasn’t something to hold against them, either.

Cyn chose her ground, chose who to ride in with and who to ride out of there with. She remained confident that those two decisions were well meant and well made.

Daphne hugged her for a long time before running up the stairs to her apartment and to Derrick. She had almost asked if Daphne wanted to stay the night with her.

She had told Daphne, “If you need me, no matter what time or what reason, just call. I’ll be here.”

More than an hour now, and no call. She wondered if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Would Derrick take this out on her? She had never mentioned Derrick being violent with her in the past. The urge to call Daphne was strong, just to get a feel for how it was going. Just to make sure she was alright.

Why Daphne loved Derrick, Cyn couldn’t guess, but she did. Cyn sort of envied that kind of
no-matter-what
love Daphne shared with him. Daphne had certainly showed the depth of her resolve by going to him tonight. It would be so nice to find out in the morning that her love was reciprocated. Something deep in her gut told her that if Derrick was the kind of man who could reciprocate that level of love, he would never have been in the position he was in tonight.

Laying back on her bed, t-shirt and panties still on but the rest draped over the bedroom chair, she thought about the process of the tribunal. She’d never witnessed anything like that before. The emotional tension in the room had been amazing. People were obviously torn. Hank was probably right when he suggested that most of those in attendance were called by Derrick and told it was finally Hank’s night to fall. They came to see Derrick’s victory, not Hank’s.

Did Hank think of it as a victory? Glancing at him on the way to the door with Daphne, he hadn’t appeared to be happy in the slightest. In fact, he had looked so morose, the urge to go to him had been intense. Maybe he was looking for comfort just as much as offering it to her.

By morning, no later than eight, she figured, the whole club would have heard the news. Would they keep silent about what Hank was asked to do, as Knight requested? She had the feeling they would. The Howey and Margaret wound held a lot of sway with these people.

Was this part of what Hank had been talking about in the farmer's market? He had told her that he was into some things which could not be discussed, or even hinted at. It was obvious to her at that time that at least one of those things was following him. She saw him searching for multiple watchers, but she knew a bird dog look when she saw one. Hank had spotted at least one watcher that he believed to be dangerous or important enough to let her know he was in some heavy shit. But that was all he could let her know.

“Six weeks, he said,” she told her ceiling. “For eight months, maybe, down to six weeks.” It made sense that whatever he was into would be growing more intense, not less, during these last six weeks. Countdowns were used most often for heralding explosions: rockets, bombs, lift-offs.

She heard his engine coming down the lonely road, and she got out of bed to meet him on the porch.

“With legs like that, you never need to be lonely, that’s for sure,” he said as he came up her stairs with two bags of grease-soaked food.

“Think that’s all it takes to find a good man? Flash some leg and reel him in?” she countered.

“Seems to be working on me rather well, but I guess we still need to figure out if I’m a good man or not,” he said, stepping through the door.

“Are you fishing for a complement? That feels so below you,” she told him, following him inside. She took the bags of food from him to the kitchen.

“Maybe I was a little, but, well, I wish I could discuss things with you that I can’t right now, and it makes me feel like I’m not being honest with you,” he said, taking off his jacket and then pulling off his chaps.

She came out with two plates and set them on her coffee table before going back for sauces. “Which you aren’t, and you’ve already told me you can’t be. You even said it would be better to wait a few weeks until whatever it was, was over. I declined then, and I decline now.”

“Knight was quite impressed by you tonight,” he said, changing the subject.

“Impressed?”

“By the way you stood by Daphne.”

“She’s my best friend. There was nothing else I could have done,” she said, sitting down beside him with a tray of various sauces. She noticed his slight dismay at the offering on the tray, and she told him, “I’m into dipping.”

“I can see that,” he said. “I don’t even know what some of these things are.”

“Best not to try them tonight, then. I plan on using you roughly, and I don’t want your stomach to suffer,” she announced.

“What if I was planning on sleeping in my bed tonight?”

“I’ll persuade you,” she answered.

“And if that doesn’t work?”

“Are you really going to push this to the point of handcuffs? I could probably produce a bear trap as well.”

“Sounds like I’m sleeping here, then,” he agreed.

“Yep. Just get comfortable and let nature take its course, big guy,” she agreed with a nod.

They ate together, dipping and smiling, and after a while Hank said, “That’s quite a knife you carried tonight.”

“Dagger,” she corrected.

“Ah, ok, dagger. Any good with it?”

“For ten years, my dad was a training officer for Recon marines at Camp Pendleton, specializing in knife and hand-to-hand combat. He started teaching me with that dagger when I was about twelve. So, yeah, I’m pretty good. So far I’ve been able to get out of situations that I didn’t want to be in with it. And that’s my only goal, really. Just be good enough to get out and go home.”

“Is that why you brought it tonight? Thinking you were going to have a rough way out of the door?” he asked.

She searched his eyes. “Daphne told me what Derrick planned — or rather, had planned for you, and she described the weight of it to me. She told me that I should distance myself, because it could be really ugly for me if I went there with you tonight.”

She finished an onion ring. “I wanted to tell you, but didn’t know how. We’re only a few days into each other, and it seemed like such an insulting thing to even bring up. The feeling I got from you, though, said that whatever Daphne and Derrick saw that day, it wasn’t what they believed it was. I didn’t believe that Daphne was lying to me, not at all, but I also didn’t believe it was the truth, either.”

“Hell of a risk, then, riding in with me like that,” he offered.

“Hence the knife,” she agreed.

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t need it,” he told her.

“So am I,” she told him. “Being gutted tends to stick in people’s minds, even as the years pass.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Well, yes, we’ve only been into each other for a few days, but I felt that withholding that from you carried the price of being at your back. And I planned on riding out of there with you, too.”

“What if it appeared that Derrick was right?”

“He wasn’t,” she answered flatly.

“And if—”

“
If’s
are sort of useless once you’ve made up your mind. I rode in with you and I was riding out with you, and I was only leaving you if I had the feeling that you were going to be alright. Which I did, and I felt that Daphne needed me more once things turned so horribly wrong for Derrick,” she told him, then turned to face him more fully.

“You’re feeling me out for something,” she told him, “which I normally wouldn’t mind, except you aren’t using your hands. So, what is it?”

Hank leaned back and studied his hands. “I guess I was trying to get a handle on your value system. It seems so cut and dry on the surface, which is reassuring.”

“But…” she pressed.

“I’m just going to drop it on the floor and let you decide how you will act. I believe, strongly, that your heart is in the right place, that you feel good about the club, and you love Daphne.”

“I feel strongly about you, too,” she offered.

He nodded. “It is reciprocated, I assure you, but you might not think so once you realize what I’m getting you into.”

She waited. There was nothing to say to that. He might be right, after all; he observed details like no one else she had ever known.

“What Knight said,” Hank began, “about not letting rumors out about what Derrick brought to the table tonight — it is true that that particular plan, that particular moment, was not a success. He didn’t lie. There are concerns, however…”

She had a sudden and alarming insight into where this conversation was going. “Derrick has no reason now to keep back names.”

Hank nodded, and he leaned forward to take up a shrimp. “You catch on fast. That will spare me from going through all of the details.”

“If Derrick tells the wrong people about what he saw that day, adding in that it was an operation condoned by the club and created by the president, it could mean war. Failed or not,” she reasoned.

“Yes, but certainly my death,” he added.

“How deep are you in?” she asked.

“Deep enough that I can’t talk about it, and if you press, I’ll have to leave,” he told her flatly.

“Alright. And so far you haven’t told me anything I didn’t already know, just pointed out a perspective,” she mused. “How can you safeguard against Derrick?” she asked, concerned now.

“I can’t.”

“Shit, and he would love to see you put down,” she said, worried, her heart racing.

“And then the club — we would have no warning about his actions, either,” he added.

It hit like a hammer, leaving a nice ringing sound in her ears after it struck. She sounded out the words carefully as she said, “Unless, of course, Daphne told me about what Derrick was doing and I breached trust with her to tell you.”

The words hung between them and tore at them both.