E isn’t wasting any time living up to his nickname. The guy is pure evil. Getting Buck to kill his own father … fuck. Guess that’s one way to prove which family his loyalty is with. Dumb kid barely got his colours and Pure E told him that if he did what he was ordered to, Pure E might assign him to the three-three. Lance thought at the time it was a bad idea, that it would raise some eyebrows — including Taggart’s. Lance’s thoughts didn’t matter. Pure E was not a man who accepted criticism.
Lance neared the meeting and saw Whiskey Jake ambling away from a concession stand while munching on a hot dog. His hair, a mix of black and grey, was pulled back in a ponytail and his beer belly hung over his belt. He usually had a beard, but following his latest divorce, he’d shaved it off. He’d told Lance he thought being clean-shaven would make him more appealing to younger women.
What they find appealing about you, Lance thought, is when you leave.
Behind Whiskey Jake at the concession stand were two long-time members of the three-three team — Floyd Hackman and Vic Trapp. Hackman was assigned to Lance’s Westside chapter while Trapp belonged to the Eastside.
Lance looked around. The two other members of the hit team, Pasquale Bazzoli and Nick Crowe, were not present. They also belonged to Whiskey Jake’s Eastside chapter, although Bazzoli was currently living in Kelowna. His current assignment was to discreetly check and see if it would suit their interests to open a chapter there.
Whiskey Jake spotted him and they met at a nearby picnic table. Once seated, Lance raised an eyebrow questioningly.
“It’s done,” Whiskey Jake replied abruptly.
“Buck?” Lance asked.
“Yup.” Whiskey Jake used his hand to simulate shooting a pistol. “One through the head. Our lawyer called Taggart to tell ’im we knew Damien was the rat and Taggart immediately called Damien to warn him. It went down exactly like Pure E predicted.” Whiskey Jake uttered a hoarse chuckle. “I bet Taggart shit himself when Pure E answered Damien’s phone.”
“This ain’t nothin’ to laugh at,” Lance stated.
After a few moments, Whiskey Jake nodded. “You’re right. What the fuck would everyone think if they knew Damien ratted? We’d all lose respect.”
That’s not what I meant. Damien was my friend. “How’s Buck doing?”
“Fuck. When it came to poppin’ his old man, they said he was as cold as ice. Gotta give Damien credit for that. He raised the kid right.”
“Pure E took a chance being there,” Lance noted.
“Not really. All four of the team were there. If Buck even thought of tryin’ to rescue his old man, he woulda been wasted.”
“I’m not talking about Buck changing his mind or trying to save Damien. Pure E put himself at the scene and then threw shit in Taggart’s face by answering Damien’s phone. Same for the farmhouse last night when Neal was offed. It was bad enough torturin’ his brother and sister-in-law to death first, but to leave Taggart a fuckin’ message on the wall … that’s insane.”
“I was there when you tried to talk Pure E out of it. All he did was get pissed off at you and say things are gonna be different.”
“Different? Is that what you call it? He’s been national prez all of five days and we’ve taken out four people. Two who weren’t necessary. When Damien ran things, we tried to maintain the peace. We hadn’t whacked anyone for a couple years.”
Whiskey Jake shrugged. “Pure E won the vote. Nothing we can do. You saw how pissed off he got when you tried to offer some advice.”
“I know he was voted in, but we’ve done too much recruitin’ over the last few years. Lots of young blood in the club. They’re not smart enough to think of the future. We should have a rule that they can’t vote until they got ten years under their belt.”
Whiskey Jake rolled his eyes. “Yeah, try and bring that in and you’ll find yourself starin’ up at the grass.”
Lance scowled. “I’m almost afraid to ask, but why the fuck did you send word to meet again? Where’s Bazzoli, Crowe, and Buck?”
“Bazzoli and Crowe are disposin’ of Damien. Buck’s around — he went to the shitter.” Whiskey Jake gave a nod of his head. “There he is.”
Lance glanced over his shoulder and saw Buck heading over to where Hackman and Trapp were waiting. The men knew to watch their club presidents from a respectful distance and wouldn’t approach within earshot unless invited.
Whiskey Jake cleared his throat, then turned his head and spit before answering. “Why I called the meetin’ is because of Damien’s old lady.”
“Vicki? Buck was supposed to tell her that Damien split the country to keep himself out of jail. What changed?”
“He told her all right — but she knows.”
Lance leaned across the table. “Whaddaya mean, she knows?”
“She knows. It wasn’t her lawyer’s secretary who called our lawyer askin’ about the charges being dropped against Buck because Damien ratted. It was Vicki pretendin’ to be the secretary. She set Damien up.”
Lance’s mouth flopped open and he sat back in shock.
“Buck met with her a couple hours ago. Earlier she told him she was going out, but she lied. She stayed home and was upstairs. She heard when Buck talked to Damien and watched when the guys came in and took him away.”
“She wanted us to kill him? But why?”
“She was pissed that he wouldn’t save Buck from bein’ charged when he beat that dealer to death. She also blamed him for Buck getting involved in the club.”
“But didn’t she try to kill Taggart last week when they searched the house?”
“Yup. That’s what tipped the scales for Damien. He made a deal with Taggart to let Vicki and Buck off.”
“So he saves her ass and she responds by setting him up? That evil fucking bitch!”
“Yeah, evil.” Whiskey Jake smirked. “Maybe she should marry Pure E now that she’s single.”
Lance’s face must have shown his anger, for Whiskey Jack said, “Hey, lighten up, I’m only jokin’. That’s why I called a meeting. It’s to let Pure E know and find out what he wants done.”
“Maybe he’ll want Buck to go back and do her,” Lance suggested. “Make a clean sweep of both his parents.”
“Yeah, welcome to the club Buck-o-boy.”
Lance shook his head. “This new management style — I’m gettin’ too old for this shit. It’s makin’ me think it’s time to retire.”
“Movin’ down to the Caymans?”
“Maybe for six months of the year. My kids are established here and now that we’ve got a grandson, things have changed. I’d still keep a place here.”
“Well
