Resistance (The Chicago Defiance MC Series Book 1) Page 7
Picking up my gavel, I slam it hard on the table gaining everyone’s attention. The noise resonates through the medium-size room. “Church is in session.”
Lift pulls out his notepad and begins to jot down notes, being his designation is Secretary. His foray is maintaining business and keeping shit in order, so him being club secretary was the right call.
“So, as you all know by now, an attempt was made by the Andrettis on Neala. I don’t know what their end game is. Whether it was to take her, or…” I pause, glancing at Trax who shifts uncomfortably in his seat and grits his teeth, “… to kill her. But either way, we need to get to the bottom of it. And fucking fast. This shit doesn’t fly with me. And as much as I know Lala will hate it, she’s gonna be monitored twenty-four seven from now on. I want someone with her every minute of the fucking day. Don’t care where she goes. Fuck! I don’t want her leaving this compound till I know it’s safe. Got it?”
Everyone nods, and Trax sits forward, his hands fisted on the table. “What’s the play here, Torque? Ace’s not here for us to do any digital digging, and I can tell you now, I’m aching to get my hands a little dirty.”
Raising my brow in agreement, I nod. “Me, too, brother. Me, too. Enzo thinks he can start bullshit with our family over this ridiculous roid war? I don’t think so. Yeah, perhaps, with hindsight, your fucking ridiculous stunt was not in our best interests, but now he’s taken it too far.” I scrub my fingers through my hair and continue, “I think there’s two ways we play this. There’s the obvious way… brute force. We go into the Andretti house and light it up, end this fucking war we have going on. But, if we fuck it up, it could make shit worse...” I take a breath. “Or, we find Alfonso. He’s Enzo’s lackey. His go-to guy. He knows everything. We find him, we get the info on what they’re planning and if they have anything else up their damn sleeves. Then, we reassess. Figure out if we have bigger problems, or whether we can settle this by fucking some shit up or somehow settling debts. Either way, we gotta do something.”
Everyone nods, but Trax leans forward shaking his head. “We need to light it up, Torque. They were gonna kill our kid sister. You can’t say there’s any other option. If Tremor and Scratch weren’t there…” he stops talking and shakes his head, running his fingers through his hair as I gnaw on my bottom lip and look at Scratch.
“Scratch, you’re the only one here who saw what happened. The Andrettis… were they looking to hurt Lala or take her… in your opinion?”
He cracks his neck to the side and shifts uncomfortably. “Hard to say, Pres. Tremor was fighting them off when I got there. One of them had a hold of her. Looked like he was trying to drag her away to me, but the knife was being held to her throat. That’s when Tremor lunged. I got there in time to fend off the others while Tremor snatched Neala back, and the guy stabbed Tremor in the process. So… I don’t know. If Tremor hadn’t have gone for Neala, they might have sliced her throat, or they might have taken off with her. It’s fifty-fifty… I just… I don’t fucking know.”
Leaning back in my chair, I breathe harshly out of my nose as Trax clenches his fists tighter. I sense the rage in him burning hotter, and I know he’s out for blood. I want it too, but with no definitive answer I have to think like a President in this case. I have to think of the club, of my fellow brothers, and not like the blood brother of a blood sister who’s been attacked. I need to think logically, and not irrationally like I know Trax is currently. I have to think like my father would have, I need to make him proud.
Glancing to Surge, he gives me a subtle nod, letting me know what I need to do. I don’t want to fucking do it. But it’s what’s right if I want to keep the peace right now, and not start the mother of all wars in the streets of Chicago.
“Chains, Sensei… I need Alfonso. I don’t care how you get him, but I want him in one piece. Or at the very least able to talk—”
“You’ve got to be fucking me? Torque, she’s our sister, and you’re—”
“Back down, brother, before I put you down.” I glare at Trax and sit taller letting him know I’m not fucking about. I’m in charge, and he listens or else. He damn well shouldn’t be talking to me like that in front of the other brothers. He knows about respecting your president, even if he is my blood brother. His nostrils flare, and I know he wants to say more, but instead, he slumps into his seat like an errant child.
I look to Chains and Sensei. “Bring me, Alfonso. Don’t care how. Rough him up if you need to. Just get him here. Watch your six. If you need backup, call. Don’t fucking hesitate, ya got me?”
They both nod. Chains grabs the chain strand he is holding in each hand and pulls it taut with tension preparing for his mission. I smirk, knowing Alfonso will probably be missing a few teeth when he arrives courtesy of Chains’ chains.
“I know it’s getting late, but I want us all on guard until Alfonso arrives. We don’t rest tonight until this shit is fixed… one way or another. We all agree?”
A resounding, “Aye,” rings around the room.
With a nod, I pick up my gavel and bang it down on the table. “Disperse,” I call out, and everyone stands. I nod to Chains and Sensei as they rush out of the room to grab our informant.
Trax stands abruptly from the table. His chair rolling back forcefully into the wall as he exits the room fast with apparent disapproval of my chosen method. I know he wants blood, and dependant on how talks go with Alfonso, he might very well get it. But for now, I need to make sure I’m not starting an unnecessary war just because I feel like bashing a few Andretti heads in. Not that I wouldn’t love to do that right now.
Shaking my head at Trax, Surge steps up to me and slaps my shoulder in support. “You did good. Took the high road. The smart road. It’s what Guinness would have done, too. You’re thinking more like your father every day, Torque. You’re made for that chair. Don’t ever doubt it. Don’t let Trax make you doubt it.”
“Thanks, Surge… I don’t know what to do about Trax. His blood thirst… it’s all-consuming. It’s gonna get him in trouble.”
Surge nods. “Trax was eighteen when Guinness died. He was just starting out in the club. Sure, he’d grown up in it like you, but he was finding his way.” He sighs. “I think with the loss of your father, the loss of Zoey, and the loss of his unborn nephew all at once, all while trying to make his mark on the club, it switched something in him. His innocence turned into something of rebellion, and so, instead of trying to sort out his grief, he’s turned it into anger. A thirst for blood. A thirst for violence. For vengeance. You dealt with your grief. You haven’t moved on, but you got on with life. I don’t think Trax ever has. Zoey was like a sister to him…” he pauses with a slight sniff, I don’t miss his eyes starting to glisten as a tightness envelops my chest thinking of my beautiful Zoey, “… and how losing her changed us all. Trax just won’t admit it, he’s a fucking stubborn prick that brother of yours.”
I nod with a small smile. “Don’t I know it.” I glance around and notice we’re alone in the room, everyone else has departed, and I sigh, looking down at the floor in a moment of weakness. “I miss her, Surge.” My chest heaves as memories of my wife and our unborn son cloud my mind. Closing my eyes for fear of seeming weak, I shake my head from the tension as Surge’s hand comes up to my shoulder and squeezes tight.
“I know. I do, too. Every damn day. But son, it’s time. It’s been six years.” He sighs. “She would want you to move on. To be happy. To live again. I don’t want you wasting away, living your time with club girls, never truly being happy. And I don’t want you to hold back when you find someone who takes your eye because you’re too damn fucking scared you’ll lose them. I know you, better than you know yourself. I know that’s what you’ll do. So if you find a girl worthy of you, you hold on, don’t let her go, and don’t hold back. Because you deserve to be happy, Torque. I’m talking as a father here, not a brother. Live son. Promise me?”
I glance up and look at him, his eyes glistening, thr
eatening with tears of the moment, but also shining with a light I haven’t seen in them for a long time. It makes me smile, and I nod. “Yeah, Surge. Sure. I promise,” I tell him.
“Good, lad. I know moving on is hard. I know living without them seems impossible. But son, there comes a time when you have to let go. It’s hard, excruciating even. I know, I’m right here with you in this…” He shakes his head, his eyes so glassy his lids are turning red, and I have to look away for fear of breaking down myself. “We all loved her, Torque, and that will never stop. But there’s room in your life to love another. You just have to be willing.”
My teeth clamp down on my bottom lip as he slaps my back. “Thanks, this means a lot. I know seeing me with another woman might be, well… weird for you—”
“Stop! It won’t be, Torque. All I want is for you to be happy. To see you in a relationship, a happy one again, that will fill me with pride, son. You’re like the son I never had. You’re family, and even though Zoey isn’t here, you’ll always be my son-in-law. No matter what, having another woman in your life won’t change that, Torque. It just means she will be a part of my life, too. Just don’t hold out on her, treat her like you did Zoey, and she’ll be one lucky son-of-a-bitch.”
I snort out a laugh while shaking my head and pull him in for a man hug. “You always did have a way with words, you old fool.”
He hugs me back, slapping me on the back like he always does. We both chuckle through our sadness as we pull back to look at each other.
“You know me, I have to keep you on your toes. But I mean it… get out there and live your life. No more holding back.”
I nod and smile. It immediately makes me want to tell him about Heeley. That she might be the one to break down my defenses. But I think bringing her up right now after talking about his daughter is shit timing. So I’m gonna keep Heeley on the down low until we have this little situation fixed and then maybe in the light of day when things are calmer, and I have a moment to myself to think about everything, I can have another talk with Surge. A real man-to-man and tell him all about my froyo dairy queen.
An image of her pops into my mind—the memory of our kiss. I try to hide my smile as Surge looks at me knowingly but says nothing as he turns and heads for the chapel door.
“Keep your mind focused tonight, Torque. Don’t get distracted. That’s the only advice I’m going to give you, son.” He exits, and I chuckle as I run my hand through my messy hair and let out a heavy sigh.
“Fuck,” I murmur, and slump back into my seat wondering just how epic this night is going to turn out.
TORQUE
It’s getting close to four in the morning as I sit back in the main room of the club, beer in hand not so patiently waiting for Chains and Sensei to deliver my package. They’ve been gone for hours, and I’m getting antsy. The entire club is awaiting their arrival while the club girls try to keep us entertained. Their dancing and showing off is doing absolutely nothing for me tonight as I sip on my brew thinking through my plan of action.
The squeal of the main door opens, and everyone turns to see Sensei walking in holding a battered-looking Alfonso. He limps into the clubhouse, his eyes swollen, his nose bleeding, and his lip cracked open. I smile as I slam my stein to the table in front of me, slide my chair back, the wooden feet scraping on the concrete, and I move faster than I thought possible while Chains closes the door behind them.
Trax and Surge are by my side instantly as we storm up to Alfonso and Sensei.
“Alfie, so good to see you again,” I mock as he stumbles forward, his wrists bound together.
He takes in the clubhouse and curls up his split lip. “I knew you liked to play on the edge, Torque, but I never pictured you as stupid,” Alfonso replies, and I raise my brow at him as Trax lets out a small chuckle.
Snorting, I ball my hand into a fist, and without hesitation, I slam it straight into his already bleeding nose. My knuckles sting as I make contact, and he lets out a muffled moan of pain as an obvious crack resounds through the room. He drops to his knees and blood ripples down over his lip from his nose. His hands come up to his face as he tries to tend to his broken nose.
I shake my head. “Don’t ever call me stupid, or next time I’ll do more than break your fucking crooked fucked-up nose.”
He looks up at me as Sensei grabs the hem of his shirt, and it’s only now I realize Alfie’s wearing expensive looking pajamas.
I raise my brow with a smirk. “Get ya out of bed, did we?”
Alfie spits out a ball of blood at my feet deciding not to answer.
I shrug. “Shame, you’ll probably need a good nap once we’re done with you.” I raise my eyes to Sensei. “Take him to the Chamber.”
Sensei nods, yanking Alfonso up by his collar and dragging him along toward the hall.
Trax smiles wide cracking his knuckles and glances to me like he’s finally happy for the first time in a long while. “You’re going to let me be in there, right?”
I hesitate for a moment. Typically, I wouldn’t have any qualms about Trax being my right-hand man for questioning, but he’s too close to this, and he could easily get carried away. But if I don’t let him in there, it could potentially lead to worse issues. Fuck. I glance to Surge, and he subtly nods. So I take a deep breath and quickly answer him as I watch Trax’s bright smile falter slightly at my hesitation. “Yeah, you’re in. But you follow my lead. Don’t act out. Ya got me?”
He cracks his neck to the side, his smile back on his face. “Yeah, Pres, I got you.”
We turn and head down the hall past the sleeping quarters and Armory, then down the stairs toward the darkness of the dimly-lit Chamber. It’s always damp in here and smells of mold. Only top-ranking club members are allowed in this place and certainly no women.
This is the men’s room.
This is where shit gets done.
This is where men lose their minds to the madness of their demons, and their devils take hold. This is the Chamber, and this is carnage. This place holds the beast within, and we let them rage, we let them ravage. In the Chamber, all bets are off, and you don’t want to be the man sitting in that silver fucking chair. That man right now is Alfonso, and he’s going to wish he’d never crossed us.
Opening the heavy steel door, I walk in and a drop of water hits the top of my head as my foot drops from the bottom step into the dimly-lit room. The walls are all solid stone so no sound can escape. Moss grows through the cracks, and the smell is more than a little musty. The area is like an underground bunker of sorts.
Trax closes the solid metal door, while I move over to the silver chair now holding Alfonso. The industrial wall lamp flickers its amber hue through the room lighting Alfonso’s anxious face just enough to see the fear in his eyes. Although he’s trying hard to mask it.
Sensei, Trax, and I are the only ones in here, and that’s all the men I need to get my answers. I’ll do the talking. Trax will be used to scare the life out of Alfonso. And Sensei? He’s the one to bring a world of pain.
A trio of torture.
I squat down in front of Alfonso, his hands bound to the arms of the chair, his ankles tied to the legs. His swollen eyes follow my every move. Clearing my throat, I take a breath and begin, “So, my men obviously waited till you were sleeping like a baby to bring you in. Solid plan, I’m proud of them. By the looks of you, you didn’t come willingly, which can only mean…” I raise my eyes to the ceiling and then look back into his, “… you have something to hide. Right, Alfie?”
He tenses his muscles and shakes his head. “We had our words at your club tonight, Torque. I left without hesitation when you asked, politely. What more do you want from me?”
I let out a stifled laugh and shake my head. “Well, for starters, why were your men waiting out back for my sister?”
Alfie shrugs nonchalantly. “You have a sister?” But his voice breaks a little giving him away.
I look to Trax, and he smiles wide, stepping forward, and lo
oking down into Alfonso’s eyes. “You gonna play it this way, Alfie? Make it so we think you know nothing?”
Alfonso shrugs again. “I don’t know anything about no sister,” he pouts.
Trax nods his head and stands up straight turning his back to Alfonso and begins to pace in front of him while rubbing his chin. “So, if you didn’t know we have a sister, and you know nothing about what happened tonight, then I guess we have no real need for you then?”
Alfonso sits up a little taller, looking from Trax to me, all the while Sensei remains calm and collected—watching and waiting. Alfonso huffs and cracks his neck with the tension building up inside of him. “You know, if anything happens to me, Enzo will be on you.”
I nod and tilt my head. “Mmm… yeah. But you see… Enzo sent men after my sister while you distracted us inside the club. This not ringing any bells for you, yet?”
He turns up his nose, and I glance to Trax once more who smiles and takes the lead. “You know Sensei here…” he points to him, “… he’s trained in all manner of things. Meditation, jujitsu, the art of body modification—”
“You have a point here, pretty boy?” Alfonso blurts out.
Trax chuckles. “Oh yeah, I’m getting there. My point is… if we let him loose, I pretty damn sure his meditation techniques will not stop him. You know, bring him back into the Zen and all.”
Alfonso chuckles. “And this is what…” he pauses for dramatic effect, “… supposed to scare me? You think some little Asian with a bad hairdo is gonna make me talk? You don’t know Enzo. He’d kill me for talking out of turn.”
Trax smiles. “What makes you think we won’t do worse than kill you?”
He snorts. “What’s worse than a dishonorable death?”