"I was gone for all those days. But I was not all alone. I made friends with a lot of people in the danger zone." - Alice Cooper, Ballad of Dwight Fry

Jacko

I sped down the interstate as the signs flicked by for the different cities. My untouched dinner sat between Rigs and me, as Sarin softly slumbered with her head across TinTin's lap in the backseat. A sharp dip in the roadway caused TinTin's head to bang against the window, and I smirked to myself as I thought about the payback the universe was giving him for earlier.

"I know you're silently laughing your ass off up there," TinTin grumbled as he rubbed the side of his head.

"No clue what you mean," I lied as I let the corner of my mouth tick up into a grin. Rigs tapped away at his phone, working his magic as he tried to get a line on the police activity at Axel's apartment. "Any word past vague shit?"

He looked over and shook his head. "Not much... Police responded to a welfare check," he frowned, "but that's the odd thing. Usually that's not done in this case."

"This case?" I pressed.

"Cops take those on when there's reports someone hasn't been heard from for a while. Like with the elderly or disabled," Rigs said.

"Axel's younger than my dad and he ain't disabled... And far as I know he's just got the one brother who ain't much older. Who would call in a welfare check on someone with no ties to anywhere?"

"And the mystery continues," Rigs admitted. "I think what we've got here is a case of someone wanting the cops to head over there and check things out without needing pesky things like warrants." He tapped away at his phone with his thumb and index finger as he searched more databases. "It's smart really..."

"How so?"

"Not many civilians are clued into the codes for a welfare check so if one went through on the scanner and you weren't monitoring for your address closely, you probably wouldn't catch it. Surprise! Cops are at your door," he admitted right as he let out a "Ah-ha!" A grin painted his face as he scrolled through something and I tried to keep my eyes on the road. "Got a preliminary report they just uploaded." His smile faded the more he read and my concern started to peak.

"We got a line on the dead body?"

Rigs nodded solemnly. "It's believed to be Axel's brother, Dutch."

I sighed. "I'm really sorry... I know you were close at one point while ridin' Nomad."

He nodded as he kept his composure. "We were. Dutch helped out a lot when Hannah was sick."

"You don't talk about her much," I said, as I reached over and patted his shoulder.

"What's there to say? I was married to the love of my life very briefly and she got sick and died. Shit rolled downhill quickly after and I needed a change of scenery from Florida and everything that had her attached to it."

I frowned. "Seems like that's what we're all good at." I glanced in the rearview mirror at a slumbering Sarin. "We run from shit the first chance we get."

"And the second. And the third..." TinTin piped up in a groggy voice from the backseat as he tried to lighten the dark mood. "So what's the plan? Are we bailing out Killswitch and then getting info or are we waiting till he's released to scoop him up?"

Rigs shrugged. "Either way is a gamble at this point. It's all going to boil down to the state of the body and whether they deem it accidental, natural, or homicide." He sighed as he looked down at the report again. "If he has to bail out it'll be risky to pick him up. I think we should play it by ear and connect with Sinner's guys. Maybe they can grease the wheels a bit more than we can."

"Think that's our only option at this point," I admitted as the twenty-six mile marker sign to Tallahassee swept by.

TinTin frowned. "Hate sitting on our asses waiting with a thumb up our butts."

"Well then don't put the thumb up your butt and problem solved," Rigs teased with a smirk. "No wonder you're uncomfortable." Rigs laughed, earning him a punch to the shoulder from TinTin. Rigs rubbed his sore shoulder with another laugh. "Hope that wasn't the finger up your butt, this is a clean shirt."

"Asshole." TinTin rolled his eyes and Rigs made a tally mark in a note file in his phone with the biggest grin.

The rest of the ride was filled with tense silence as we waited patiently for any other information to be uploaded online, and as I pulled into the small driveway outside the boxy Tallahassee clubhouse that my brother had helped found, I shut off the engine with a frown. A large truck blocked the view of the brown wooden siding of the building and as the behemoth circled it, I frowned even harder.

"To what do I owe this little tea party?" I stepped out of the truck and approached Sinner as he crossed his arms at his chest and leaned against the bed of his massive lifted truck. "I was under the impression we were just connectin' with your guys."

"Maybe I missed your ass and our fucking heartfelt bonding sessions." Sinner smirked. "I'm here cause your shit's spilled into my territory."

I leveled a glare at him. "Not sure how my money goin' missin' has anythin' to do with your territory."

"Normally it wouldn't but when my guys are tracking stray Burdens this way and they're camping out at your member's apartments... That then becomes my problem." A dumbfounded look formed and he snickered. "Oh, I really love when I'm the one with all the goodies. Burden scum by the name of Jeepers was picked up alive and well with Killswitch. They were camped the fuck out like they were having a summer gossip session, minus the tent and fireside s'mores."

I scowled and Sarin froze in her tracks as she approached, obviously catching the tail end of our conversation. Her mouth stood open in shock before she quickly closed it.

"Burdens?" Her fingers trembled as she tugged on the hem of her t-shirt.

"Nothing for you to be worried about, baby cousin." Sinner smirked. "We're paying the fine on his misdemeanor possession ticket and then he'll take a little ride back to Philly with us. I've been dying to have a candlelit date in my pit." He wiggled his eyebrows at the mention of torture down in his concrete basement and Sarin started to visibly relax.

"Was that the only surprise?" I glared at him again.

Sinner shrugged as Tomahawk sauntered out of the front door of the clubhouse. "No, but I do love the dramatics. I'll leave the other surprises secret for now. Let's call it a scavenger hunt of sorts. Need to pick that fuck up before he skirts out on the wind." He winked as he turned to face his Veep. "Are we ready to roll out and leave them to their church?"

Tomahawk's waist-length black hair skirted in the slight breeze as he nodded. "All ready. Apache is on scene with Mav."

Sarin stopped them as they turned to load up into the truck. "Wait!" She fidgeted with her shirt again and looked between Sinner and me. "Not to overstep but why not bring him back here and interrogate him? Less chance of issues driving that whole way home...and—"

"And?" Sinner raised an eyebrow in question.

"Aren't the swamps prime dumping grounds if it comes to that?" Her voice lowered a tad and she looked around for prying eyes.

"Smart girl," Sinner said and took a moment to contemplate her suggestion. "Gators gotta eat too."

"Speaking of food," Tomahawk said as he loaded into the passenger seat.

"Always fucking hungry. You and Apache got a tapeworm or some shit?" Sinner smirked as he easily stepped into his giant truck and pulled a U-turn across the front lawn of the clubhouse without another word, and Sarin fanned in front of her face to clear the small cloud of dust and lawn shavings his departure had kicked up.

I silently headed to the front door and Sarin placed a hand on my arm. "I'm sorry, I overstepped," she admitted and I shook my head.

"No. You were right to speak up." I cast her a reassuring smile before I headed inside. "This way Tin can be privy to the date in case any info slips. Who knows what's come up in conversation between Jeepers and the others while loaded."

Sarin nodded. "That's what I was thinking too. Lips get loose when you're trashed."

The inside of the clubhouse was highly unkempt and I scrunched my nose at the lack of respect in keeping their house tidy. Mounds of old alcohol bottles cluttered various corners and as Rigs stepped in behind us, he shook his head.

"It's gotten worse since I've been gone," he commented as he looked around at the discarded trash and pieces of dirty clothing that littered the main room.

"Fuckin' pigs." I shook my head as I slowly approached a small bar and attached kitchenette, maneuvering around a few toppled over tables that were full of cracks from roughhousing. Mad Max, the club's Secretary, sat hunched over a bottle at a small table. "Where's the rest of your club?" I demanded.

Mad Max looked over and shrugged, and his swollen potbelly tapped against the rim of the table with each heavy breath. "The ones that stuck around are waiting in church or passed out somewhere. People stopped caring when Swamp died..." The defeat was ever present in his green eyes and his shaggy grey hair was matted in places around his ears. He cast Rigs a sympathetic glance before he narrowed his gaze back on his drink.

I looked over at Sarin as a few lingering club girls started eyeing TinTin up with grins. I lowered my voice to a whisper as I leaned closer, "See what you can get out of them."

Sarin looked around the room once more and then at the girls. "The only thing anyone's getting from them is hepatitis."

TinTin laughed loudly and nudged a discarded take-out container aside with his boot. "I need penicillin just standing in this mess." He made a face when he had to scrape the remnants of food off the toe of his boot.

"You might be in luck. I saw a sign for a free clinic a few blocks away." Sarin smirked.

TinTin shot her a grin. "I'm sure they're giving out visit ten times and your eleventh is free cards around here."

I shook my head at their playful banter and looked back at Mad Max. "What I suggest you do is get your fuckin' ass off that seat and round up anyone who's not sittin' stewin' in a cold sweat inside church." I leveled a stern glare at him and he reluctantly nodded before he knocked his bottle and the rest of its contents onto the floor. The warm beer sloshed as it hit the concrete and pebbled across my boots, and I huffed as the anger built in my core. "Fuck this shit," I grumbled.

"Heads are about to fuckin' roll," TinTin commented as he followed behind me.

Stomping off to their church, I kicked the door open with my boot and a small group of heads snapped over. Fear coated a few eyes, and a few others were visibly relieved to see me.

"First and foremost," I snarled, "none of you deserve to wear my patch!" I roared. "Fuckin' pigs the whole lot of you and just as cowardly... I get that your asses are grievin' but it's no excuse for soilin' a patch that some of you've rode under''—I shook my head in anger—"since back when my grandfather ran shit."

TinTin stepped to the end of the table and assumed the position should the need to enforce arose. He crossed his arms at his chest with a stone-cold expression, refusing to look directly at any of the men in the room.

"Do we have a line on Axel?" I stood at the end of the short wooden table where this chapter held their church. The flimsy, cracked gavel near my hand disgusted me; further proof that this chapter had no pride in their colors.

Their bare walls made the space feel unwelcome, and as my eyes searched the sparse space, I noted that there was nothing that made this clubhouse feel like a home. It wasn't a place to thrive. Just a space for clandestine meetings, shrouded in the false sense of brotherhood—and because of that, it wouldn't hurt me one bit to watch it all burn to the ground.

"No," a member piped up from the corner. "Axel took off two days before they found Swamp. Left his old lady behind too."

"Old lady..." Rigs's brow furrowed. "Axel has an old lady? Since when?"

"Few months prior. She swept into town and that was that. Don't know shit about her but she's still hanging around. Not sure she has anywhere else to go," he responded with a small shrug and proceeded to pick at an invisible thread on his soil-kneed jeans.

"Round her up then," I ordered. "I wanna have a chat with Mrs. Axel soon as possible."

"Sure thing but not really sure what you're going to get out of her," he countered.

"No bitch is completely stupid," TinTin growled. "She might have some insight on where he could be and not even know it."

The member nodded and pulled out his phone. "It's your wasted time," he said under his breath as he sent a text.

I slammed my hands down on the table. "Send the text and stuff the commentary far up your ass!" I looked around the room and then over at Rigs. "Let's get this vote on while we wait." I took a seat and frowned when a slight stickiness on the edge of the chair greeted me.

Rigs pulled out a piece of paper from his cut and read the first name as he took a seat in a vacant chair. He smoothed the paper down on the wooden table. "Blaze Murphy is requesting a transfer to the Phoenix chapter. So is a Goober Dodson." He looked up as two older men raised their hands.

I eyed them up and noted their lack of officer patches. "Granted. Signed your paperwork this mornin' so pack your shit up and hit the road."

"We're ready to blow town. Appreciate the consideration," Goober said in a thick Texas accent before he nodded to Blaze.

"Next is Lucky Strike Phillips. Requesting a transfer to the Tacoma chapter to accept their rotating Tail Gunner position," Rigs stated matter-of-factly. "Lucky's been the Tail Gunner since we rode Nomad, and Ramrod from Tacoma sent over his okay."

"Then grant it," I responded as I tapped my knuckles against the hardwood.

Rigs nodded as he moved down the list. "Trench Faulk is requesting a patch transfer up to the Mother Chapter in Northridge."

Rigs pointed to a built man, who was just a couple inches shorter than I was. His almost platinum blonde hair was shaved into a mohawk and the thick strands that rested in the strip tickled the back of his neck. Trench raised a heavily tattooed hand, coated from shoulder to knuckles in traditionally classic ink, before he ran a hand over his shaggy full beard.

I leaned back in my seat as I took him in and the resemblance was uncanny. Fuck, he looks a helluva lot like Bluebeard... Minus the long hair and long beard. I glanced at TinTin, who refused to look at him and could almost imagine the mixture of rage and grief that bubbled inside when he finally looked at his half-brother.

"You've been vouched for by Rigs," I started, "but truth is that there's some shit happenin' down here that makes me weary to grant your request."

Trench paled as he listened but he bit his tongue and didn't protest. He merely shook his head. "I get it, Prez, but I wasn't party to the things they're saying that happened. I was grieving my sister's death," —he cast a sympathetic glance at Rigs— "but if you don't feel you can trust me in your house, I respect that. I'd ask that you give me a chance to prove myself and if I need to wear a prospect patch till I do, I will... Or let me go Nomad again till I can find a chapter that's a good fit."

I tilted my head side to side as I weighed the request. Now that's an honor move if I've ever seen one. Don't argue that you're trustworthy cause words are just words. Prove that shit with actions. "Gotta say... Any man who was willin' to suffer as a prospect again just to prove themselves needs consideration." I looked at Rigs who nodded. "I respect that request. We'll vote on your ass right now. Mother Chapter, all those in favor of Trench Faulk transferring up to Northridge, say yay."

"Yay," Rigs responded.

TinTin remained silent as he stared at me. Finally he sighed. "Yay."

"Anyone opposed from the Tallahassee chapter?" I prompted, but everyone remained silent. Beating my fist down on the table like my own makeshift gavel, I nodded. "Transfer granted."

Trench visibly relaxed in his seat and a small content smile quirked the side of his mouth. TinTin rolled his eyes but maintained his usual emotionally distanced demeanor.

"We'll make arrangements to load your stuff up for the ride back," I offered, before we moved on to the last few names on the list. After granting transfers, essentially leaving the Tallahassee chapter with an undesirable skeleton crew, I left some parting advice with a snarl, "Get your house in order... Elect a new Prez and clean this shithole up or the next trip I make down here, I'll burn the whole fuckin' thing to the ground!" Several heads nodded in response and I rapped my knuckles on the table. "Alert me when Axel's old lady is brought in."

The member from before checked his phone. "She should be in the main room when you're ready."

"Then church is dismissed."

I stood from the table and without another care for any of the Florida men in that room, I went to search out Sarin and see what information she had gathered before I addressed the leftover elephant in the room—a missing Veep's old lady.

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A/N:

Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Please don't forget to vote and leave any comments

Ami