Page 146 of Savior
He actually seems offended she didn’t mention anything to him. I relay what she told me about the check at the pub. The flowers from D. Again, no actual fucking proof it was him. Just another goddamned hunch. I can’t make a real move on him based on suspicion alone.
“This is fucking Legion.” I insist. “I was meant to chase this prick to the railyard. He meant to get me alone. Axel was the sacrificial lamb to get me there. Stalking Vanna tonight was just to let me know she’s within his fucking reach, whenever he damn well wants her to be. These fucking mind games. It’s Legion’s way of taunting me, that he’s the one deciding who lives and who dies.” That even despite the blow we dealt to a few of his whore houses, the show will go on...
Viking looks at me contemplatively. “Well, if Vanna is just a pawn in his psychological warfare, you’d have to be alive to suffer that mind fuck, right?”
I nod. “If that’s the case, true. Whatever he had planned for me at the railyard tonight, I was meant to live through… Unless, stalking her is his fucking way of wooing her.” I grind my teeth through the wave of jealousy washing over me at just the thought of that.
“Well, you’re not alone now.” Viking says. “Let’s see what we can find at the railyard. There ain’t shit here. Motherfucker is slick if this is all Legion’s doing.”
“He’s too fucking smart to leave any evidence behind.” Chopper says. “I mean, this fucking blood bath of a collision was bleach bombed clean. There ain’t even a quarter sized piece of purple plastic from that bike out here.”
“If mental warfare is what he’s playing at, there might be a message though. Something left behind in case I did realize that’s where they were leading me. Like the fucking Bible on Preacher’s desk. Like the business card he left Vanna, the innuendoes to let me know he saw us that night. And that night I broke up their little gang bang. These have all been fucking calling cards. I told you none of this was coincidence. He’s rubbing this shit in our faces. He’s poisoning our town right under our goddamn noses. He wanted to take over our MC through Preacher and corrupt us. It didn’t work. That’s why Preacher’s dead.”
“But why does he have such a hard-on for the Saviors MC?” Ruger asks.
“I really hate to say it, but I’m beginning to wonder, if it doesn’t have anything to do with the Saviors MC, at all… I think it’s got to do with me, specifically.”
“I thought you said you never met the guy?” Viking asks.
“Never laid eyes on the demonic fuck before that night in the lot at the Twisted Throttle. I don’t know who he is, or what his problem is. I never started any shit with the Chrome Demons MC. But this is really starting to look like a vendetta.”
“Well, if it’s you he’s after, that means this either boils down to a woman, or a family member.” Viking shrugs. “Nobody puts in this much effort to fuck with someone unless it’s really personal. Could he be related to someone you dealt a little… street justice to?”
“That’s a long fucking list.”
“Narrow it down. Arizona. Nevada. What did you do out West?” Viking presses.
“Again, that’s a long fucking list, bro.” Anxiety begins to take hold inside of me. Memories of all the collections I’ve done through connections I made in the underground circuits, flash through my mind. Though none happened anywhere near CDMC territory.
Fuck… Is this really coming back to bite me, now?
“And it’s been over seven fuckin’ years since I’ve even been out that way.” I add. After what went down that night, I never went back.
Viking looks at me with that contemplative expression again. “Jack Nero’s accomplice was from Arizona, wasn’t he?”
“Gila Bend.” I reply, but I narrow my eyes at Viking before he can say anything else, clamping my mouth shut as I give him the slightest shake of my head. Slight enough, that only Viking notices. He nods, picking up on my subtle que that I do not want to get into this right now. A whole lot of shit went down the last time I was in Gila Bend... A whole lot of shit that doesn’t carry a statute of limitations…
“Enough talk. If this site is scrubbed clean, so’s the fuckin’ railyard. Let’s just get back to the hospital for Viper and Axel.” Viking says, glaring at me before he heads back to his bike. I know he’s going to have a lot of questions for me, but Gila Bend isn’t all my story to tell.
“Hang on, there’s something here.” Chopper says, pulling our attention in his direction. He grabs a flashlight and walks back to the side of the road, shining it down into the ditch. Viking and I walk over to join him and Ruger.
“That’s a big fuckin’ pig.” Viking comments at the sight of the dead animal.
“Ain’t even throwin’ off a stench yet. Hasn’t been here long.” Ruger adds.
“Maybe the Demons staged this to cover for all the blood all over the road. A hog got plowed into.” Viking says.
“And knowing Legion, I’m sure it means something, too.” I mutter, thinking back to the passage Preacher’s Bible was open to again.
The tense feeling wrapping around my chest only intensifies as I make my way back to my bike. Gripping the handles of my motorcycle, I sling my leg over the seat. There are no coincidences. Aaron Hopper was helping Jack Nero, because Legion fucking arranged it. A man from Gila Bend. A detail of his psychological warfare I wasn’t meant to overlook. Another chess piece sliding across the board in a game I should have been paying closer attention to, from the beginning.
I may have never crossed paths with the man himself… But Legion is looking to avenge someone. Someone I left to rot in the desert that bloody night, seven years ago.
