Chapter 4

Shadow POV This was taking too long. Damage should be here by now; he has never been late before. Something was wrong- maybe he got stuck doing club work. "I am going to phone Damage and find out where he is," Jugs stated, annoyed at a wasted night. I don't blame him; we have had information from this guy before, and he never let us down. His information has been solid so far. The phone rang out, so he dialled again. "Hello?" A woman answered, shy, timid. "Where's Damage?" Jugs demanded, not recognising the voice and not expecting to hear a woman's voice; I bet he thought Damage was with a girl instead of meeting up with us as promised. "If you mean a man, in a biker kutte? Around six feet, full beard, and a scar on his left cheek? Then you better come down the alley near the club and check out the dumpster." The phone went dead. Jugs swore and looked toward the alley where the men had come out. As we headed to the alley across the street where the four men had emerged, I saw a shadow move to the back of the alley, rise higher, I guess over a fence, and disappear; there went the girl on the phone. Jugs dialled the number again and followed the ringing to the dumpster the woman had mentioned. Damage's phone sat on the lid, vibrating as it rang against the metal top. Jugs reached out, took it with his gloved hand, and pocketed it before tentatively lifting the lid to look inside; we all could guess what we would find, but hoped we were wrong. Inside was the man we had been waiting for. Damage: he had a gunshot wound to his chest and a bloody mess of a face; he took a huge beating before being shot. "Geez, man, what a waste, and we were so close. Never heard a thing. Must have used a silencer." Riddler stated the obvious, but it was more like thinking out loud than informing us of anything we didn't already know. Damage knew the risks and took them; he paid the ultimate price. I would say they didn't get much out of him. "Who do you think that chick was? Maybe she witnessed the shooting, and if the shooters find out, she will be in danger. We need to find her, and fast. Take her to the clubhouse; it's the only place to keep her safe." I couldn't have agreed more; we do need her, and so does my d**k. She has my interest, and she doesn't even know it. "It was Pip. I recognised her voice. We need to find her; she's going to need our protection," I replied as I pulled out my phone. "Call the Prez; he's going to need to know about this," I ordered Jugs, as I dialled the police to inform them of the body in the dumpster. "Shadow! What you got for me?" He knows when I call, it's not good news. I was surprised to find his name in my contacts. The first time he answered, he knew it was me. Now, I would be shocked if he didn't. We have done a lot of business together, hiding witnesses. "Alley by the club, dumpster out back, found an informant of ours, beaten up and shot in the chest, might want to bring the coroner out here." "You touch anything?" Malcolm asked. I could hear shuffling; I guess he was moving. "Gloved up, keeping his phone might have information we need on it; will send it to you once we have downloaded the information" "You know I don't like it when you do that." He growled; we were already back out of the alley and climbing on our bikes. "Not sorry. We need that information and can't wait for you to share it. More lives are in danger. I will give you more information when I can; it's still in the early stages of the investigation, and it's bike club-related; you don't usually want to get in on club wars." "You're right; we don't just leave me a trail of bodies to clean up." Malcolm hung up, and I started up the bike, and we rode out. I wondered where Pip went, whether she made it home, and whether she was in bed sleeping. Or worse, sitting in the dark, crying in fear over what she'd just seen. The way she said where the body was, I knew she had witnessed the shooting. "Do we need to talk to the manager and get more information on Pip?" Roads asked as we moved down the road to the motel we were staying in. We needed sleep before we did anything else; I was dead on my feet. "Did you see Pip? She worked tirelessly and didn't interact with anyone, not even the staff. I would put money on it that she gave that manager little to no information, probably a cash-in-hand worker. Leaving little to no trail, that girl is on the run. I have seen people with that look before, and it usually meant they didn't want to be found." Spider replied. "Agreed, that girl was hiding before tonight's episode; bet she was packing right now and leaving town, but where to and how? We need more information than Pip as a name; was it even her real name?" Jugs added, we were talking through our headphones as we made it to the motel. The motel was shabby; the rooms needed a proper cleaning, but we'd been in worse, and when you are exhausted, any bed will do; we'd slept out under the stars often enough to find even the lumpyest bed comfortable. A late check-out suited us just fine. We had two rooms, three to a room; I took the single bed rather than sleep with Jugs or Jacks, both of whom toss and turn most of the night; it's the only way I would get any shuteye. Plus, it's embarrassing to wake up to one of them snuggled up to your side- gross. Jug's phone rang, waking us up way too early, but we still got at least five hours' sleep, which was good. "President wants us back at the clubhouse tonight if possible. Guess we are burning rubber; let's go." Begrudgingly, we all washed up, got dressed, grabbed a bite to eat, and hit the road hours early. The eight-hour ride went by in six; we did some low flying over the road, and the food was something we could eat quickly, already cooked and ready to go; we didn't stop for more than it took to put fuel in our tanks and bodies. After dark, our town came into view. Twenty minutes later, we were pulling into the clubhouse. Several bikes sat in the carpark; that in itself didn't catch my attention. It was whose bikes were here- not just our bosses, but some from a few other clubs- which made me wonder what was going on. "Good, the Presidents are waiting." My brother said as we arrived. "All of us?" Jugs asked, placing his helmet on his bike's mirror. "Yes, all of you." He didn't wait to see if we followed him. When the boss calls, you come; it's part of running the club. He demands respect and unquestioning loyalty, and everyone gives it. Even if he wasn't my father, he had proven himself over and over again. The bar staff were busy, the place full of visitors. We entered the conference room, crowded with so many presidents that it made me swallow; that's what the bar room was about: protecting their presidents; most never ride out to other clubs without at least twenty men for backup. We didn't take a seat; we stood at attention and waited to be acknowledged; non-management members weren't normally in the room for this meeting. I might be an enforcer with many powerful contacts outside the club, but inside the club, I was one of ten enforcers who often led missions, and I wasn't management; my older brother was the lead enforcer, who would one day be our new president when my father steps down. "Report!" The president ordered, and as mission lead, I had to reply. I informed him of the club, the no-show, the woman, and the four men who left the alley, before a woman answered his phone, told them where Damage's body was, informed the police, and returned here. "Sir, the woman has caught my interest. I wish to be permitted to track her down. She would be in danger if the killers find out. She saw the killing." Dad understood what I meant by "caught my interest." It meant more than just protection. It runs in our family; when the males find a woman, that catches their interest, and they pursue her till they make them their wife. We never cheat once we choose a woman.