Page 30 of Retribution
Cobra nodded then scanned the room for Breaker. When he was an active member, Breaker and he used to cause all kinds of trouble in the bars in Missoula. They had a blast shutting the smart-assed mouths of snot-nosed punks who thought they could take the two bikers on. The jerks always found out they couldn’t.
“Where’s Breaker?” he asked.
Boulder shook his head. “He’s in Omaha—his mom died.”
A jolt of sadness shot through Cobra. “Fuck, that’s tough. I didn’t know she was sick.” He remembered visiting Marjorie many times with and without Breaker. When Cobra had gone nomad, he’d make it a point to go through Omaha if he was in the area to stop in and see how she was doing. He’d always take her to a steakhouse, and she’d talk about it for days to Breaker. Cobra chuckled to himself when he recalled the time Breaker called him and told him to quit taking his mom to expensive steakhouses because it made him look bad. Cobra had joked that he couldn’t help it if Breaker’s idea of fine dining was Burger King.
Damn. I really liked Marjorie. She was a good sport.Breaker was so close to his mother that Cobra knew her death must be tearing him up something awful. For a split second he wondered if his mother was still alive, then he pushed the thought from his mind.
“Did you hear me?” Boulder asked, dragging Cobra out of his reflections.
“No, sorry, dude. I’m still reeling from learning about Marjorie.”
“Yeah. According to what Breaker told us, she had a massive heart attack. Julia found her when she went over the next day to drop off her kids. Can you imagine that?”
“Damn. Julia was real close to her mom, just like Breaker,” Hulk said.
“She was a damn fine woman,” Cobra said.
A few minutes of silence fell among the members as they empathized with the loss one of their brothers suffered.
Grinder cleared his throat. “We can continue the welcome home shit after church. Let’s get going.” He looked at the vice president. “Round everyone up.”
Sparky nodded then walked away.
Fifteen minutes later, Cobra sat on one of the folding chairs in the meeting room, and it felt as if he’d never left. The room was stuffy and hot, and the swamp cooler was a poor substitute for air conditioning. Cobra wiped the back of his neck, then reached over and opened a window. Despite the ventilation, the dank odor of sweat filled the room.
Grinder hit the gavel on the table and the scant rumble of conversation stopped; all eyes were on their president.
“We’re gonna make this short tonight since it’s hot as fuck in here and smells like ass.”
The membership chortled. “As you know, Cobra stumbled onto some shit in Philipsburg that we gotta put a stop to.” The brothers raised their voices, swearing and promising the offenders would die in evil ways. Grinder held up his hands. “There’s time afterwards to trash the motherfuckers, but right now Cobra’s gonna tell us what he knows, and we’re gonna figure out how to take Big Pat down.”
The members whooped, whistled, and pounded their fists on the table.
Cobra pushed the chair back and rose to his feet, waiting for the racket to die down. The gavel crashed down again on the table, and the guys looked back at the front of the room.
Cobra lifted his foot onto the edge of the chair and leaned forward. “Big Pat’s the one who’s distributing the drugs in the area. He picks real dipshits to do his dirty work—frat boys, teens, even strippers. He pays them ten percent of what they get and he takes the rest. The fucker’s dealing meth, GHB, and weed.”
“Asshole’s been warned before,” Iron said.
Cobra jerked his head at the member who leaned against the wall. He’d just come in a few minutes before and Cobra hadn’t seen him. Besides Breaker, Iron and Brute were some of the other brothers he was especially close to.
“We should’ve killed his fuckin’ ass when he did shit in Lolo. Good to see you, brother.” Iron raised his fist and Cobra returned the gesture.
“Iron’s right,” Hulk grumbled.
“We discussed this when we found out the fucker’s relation was a damn badge,” Sparky said.
“And we voted on it.” Grinder leaned back and crossed his arms.
“I didn’t vote for shit. I was against it.” Iron kicked his foot back against the wall.
“We know, and that’s in the damn past. We’re talking about what to donow, so unless you got something helpful to add, shut the fuck up.” Grinder glowered.
Cobra straightened up. “As I was saying, I don’t think this Big Pat asshole has got a hardcore, organized business going. He should be pretty easy to take down. I’m gonna find one of the guys who slipped Dak—uh … this girl some GHB and make him tell me where this dealer lives. I haven’t been able to find the douchebag, but I’m still looking.”
“And when we find him, he’s fuckin’ history,” Iron said, his eyes narrowed at Grinder and Sparky.
