Page 53 of One Last Rainy Day
Andre—the head of the Miami chapter—missed the window for our one-on-one. Which, in our club, is a blatant sign of disrespect. Meetups are more a guise for the deals that take place between the trees at the party. A time meant to set up the when and where to trade stolen goods of each chapter’s most recent takes—along with introducing any recruits. It’s one of the few secrets we share. “They’re not even hiding it anymore. Something’s up.”
“I’m pretty sure you made it clear you’re onto them,” he says, gesturing toward my hand. Knuckles still dripping, I have no regrets about disfiguring the fucking bastard charged with doing Andre and Matteo’s bidding.
We’ve always known Matteo and Andre were killers for hire—psychopaths who take pleasure in their work—which we utilized for our benefit until recently.
“I’ll switch cars and follow them back to the Florida state line,” Tyler offers, “and put some birds on patrol to make sure they all get the fuck out of our neighborhood.”
“That’s all fine and good, man, but you’re not hearing me. They took out another black-market contract yesterday—nondiscriminatory. They’ve switched to killing innocents for a higher paycheck. They’ve broken every rule of our club and are rubbing it in our faces with their presence tonight, with an added plan to weaken us.”
“How so?”
“I think they tried to take Sean out in the race.”
His eyes widen. “The. Fuck?” He tilts his head up as if summoning patience. “Before we act, Dom, you need to be sure.”
Clearing some of the haze, I replay it objectively. Sean’s car rounding the curve in the outside lane, one side mountain rock, thousands of feet of drop on the other. Florida’s headlights disappearing from my rearview to run alongside me before gunning straight for Sean. When I realized his intent, I gassed my Camaro just in time to cut him off, forcing him toward Tallahassee, who crashed into the rocky cliff just after we cleared the turn.
“Positive. He knew the road and had to have mapped it before the Meetup. There’s no other fucking way to interpret how it went down. If Miami had so much as tappedeitherof Sean’s bumpers, our brother would not be breathing right now. They need to be dealt with—swiftly.”
Tyler’s expression hardens as he glances around to ensure no nearby ears are privy to our convo. “Make the call to France and text me the verdict.”
I shake my head. “You can’t go at this alone. We don’t know the nature of the game they’re playing.”
“Don’t underestimate me,” Tyler snaps, warning lethal.
“I never have, brother. I’ll text you his decision but keep me updated.”
Eyes murderous, Tyler takes off in full executioner mode, and I know if granted permission, he’ll see it through—and make it painful.
Clearing the trees, I stalk toward my Camaro and am stopped by a brunette at my trunk, her nails raking up my chest. Annoyed, it takes a few seconds for me to recognize her.
“Hey, Dom,” Stephanie purrs, reeking of whisky and cigarettes. “Been awhile, and I’ve got a secret...I’ve been thinking a lot about you,” she drawls.
“Funny, I’ve been thinking about everythingbutyou.”
“Don’t be a dick,” she pouts before hitting her knees and reaching for my belt. “This time, I’ll let you come in my mouth.”
“Jesus Christ, Stephanie.” I bat her hands away before lifting her by the underarms to stand. “This isn’t a good time.”
“You didn’t mind it last time,” she slurs.
“That was what? Two, three fucking years ago?”
“I just wanted to play around a little and reminisce,” she stumbles in front of me, and I grip her elbow to study her.
“I think it’s time we both forget you have no lips and move the fuck on. Go find another babysitter to suck off. I don’t have time for this shit.” Using my grip on her elbow, I gently guide her out of my path.
She jerks her arm away, stumbling in the process, “Fuck you, Dom.”
“Not if I had a spare dick, Stephanie. Now would be a good time to remember who you’re talking to and tread more carefully,” I warn. “If I were you, I would get back to the bird you came with. This doesn’t look good on him.”
Just as I say it, her name is clipped out a few yards away. Her head snaps in that direction as I take a seat behind my wheel and pull my burner from my glove box to shoot off a text.
ROGUE BIRDS: This can’t wait.
My burner rings a second later as Stephanie is not-so-gently carted off by her bird, and I catch sight of Sean pulling off with Cecelia in tow as Tobias speaks up. “Talk to me.”
“Miami is full-on defecting,” I get straight to it. “They’re taking black-market contracts on innocents, Andre turnedhis back on me at the party, and they just tried to take Sean out.”
