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Chapter 8: GABRIEL

Author: Jordan Silver
last update Last Updated: 2024-10-29 19:42:56
I walked into the middle of the yard and waited and was just in time to see Wolf dragging in his prey. I guess he conveniently forgot that I told him not to bring him here. Most likely, he's doing it so the others can see and know fear. For someone who likes to live his life in the shadows, he can be a real showoff. I didn't show my exasperation at his tactics when he came to stand in front of me with his latest catch hogtied and fit to be tied. No pun intended.

"Hello, Sam!"

"I thought you told me to get out of town; I was on my way when this…" He looked at Wolf with a healthy amount of fear. I didn't bother asking what he'd done to him because I know my Wolf can do a lot in a matter of seconds.

"Wolf, did you drag him back here like that?" I looked at the rope he had tied around the older man's girth with its intricate knots that kept him pretty much from moving everything but his feet and head. He smiled at me in that way of his that I've grown used to.

"No, I kicked him part of the way because he wasn't moving fast enough."

"Fair enough, so you didn't take the car then? I thought I heard the engine."

"Too slow!" Only Wolf would think a car was too slow, but I got his meaning, what with traffic and all.

At least this place was a little isolated from everywhere else, but it's just the kind of place Wolf loves with the Rockies behind us and nothing but mountains and trees all around. It's the perfect spot for something like this, I will say. The biker compound, as I like to think of it, but I think it's wasted on this bunch.

"You know where to take him."

"What do you want with me?" Sam blustered while keeping a wary eye on Wolf and I.

"You'll find out." I headed across the yard in the opposite direction before any of the others could approach, leaving Wolf to take him away.

I heard some of the men whispering about what Sam could've done to be treated this way and speculating on what would happen next. None of them dared approach me with that shit, though. They'd all been keeping their distance since I showed up out of nowhere to take over.

I knew what they expected before I came, had done my own thing to listen in on a few conversations as soon as I'd decided to take the old man up on his offer. So I knew before I stepped foot on the place that they thought I was a soft educated idiot who would be easily lead by them. I have their taped voices saying that and so much more anytime they want to have a listen.

Because I had this firsthand knowledge, I came in hot and hard, sending a few of their pals packing and only kept the few around that seemed capable of being at least half-human. I needed to keep some undesirables around in the off chance that they could lead me somewhere with the case, but Billy might've done that today.

He's one of the ones who thought I was an easy mark and had even convinced some of the ousted that he could get them back in soon. Billy was one of the contenders for dad's old position, he and a few of the others that I'd kept around.

They hadn't liked that I'd stepped in. Didn't like a lot of things about me. Least of all, the fact that I was nothing like they'd expected. So for a while, in the beginning, they tested me. It's been weeks since they've tried their shit with me and failed.

They still don't know what hit them and are still trying to figure that shit out weeks later, but I'm not inclined to have a heart-to-heart with any of them. The only reason I was even deigning to spend time in this cesspit is because of the man who helped bring me into this world. But once I'm done cleaning his shit up, I'm outta here.

She crossed my mind just then, Silla, for no good reason, and I pushed her back out again as I made my way into the house that was a couple hundred yards from the clubhouse and separated by a wall. The old man had built the place just a few short years ago after living in the back of the clubhouse where apparently I was born.

I try not to think of him as I move around the rooms that still bore his presence in some way or another. Like the overstuffed recliner in the den that had been left in the leaning position the night they'd come to take him to the hospital. There was an ashtray with cigarette butts and ashes almost overflowing it on the coffee table next to the chair.

I hadn't allowed anyone in to clean this room, not yet. I figured since he'd spent so much time in here, there were things I might find to help me out with what it was he'd asked me to do. Luckily I'd shown up too soon for anyone else to break in and take shit away, but not soon enough for him to tell me what the hell was going on.

He'd only got as far as telling me what he suspected and what he'd started to do so far before he went into respiratory failure and then a coma, and that was the last time we spoke. I'd sat by his side the next couple of days while my team stood watch at the compound, letting no one in, which had caused a stir.

It's only after the funeral had been settled that I got to see the true size and scope of the operation he had going here, and some of the anger I'd felt towards him my whole life had started to dissipate bit by bit when I got the gist of what it was he was trying to do. Too bad someone he trusted had used his kindness for something much darker.

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