Smolder: Trojans MC (64 page)

Chapter Thirty

The former silence of the desolate street was destroyed as a dozen bikes roared to life. The rumbling of their engines echoed off the tall empty buildings around them making it sound like there were hundreds of bikes. The sky above them was grey and the sun’s light fought its way through the rain-heavy clouds above them.

The rain, of course it was threatening rain. Falcon had checked the news that morning and they promised it wouldn’t rain until nightfall. It never rained in L.A., so of course, on this day, when his life was hanging in the balance, the weather was refusing to cooperate. He refused to think about signs or omens. It was just the weather; it didn’t mean anything.

Falcon slipped his helmet over his head and leaned over his handlebars. He was ready to go. He was ready to get this over with. He accepted his fate as best he could. He knew he was going to have to leave Falcon Marks behind and in leaving his life he would have to leave his daughter. But Grace was right; it was the best option and it was the one he had decided to take. Now all he needed was to take the first step towards his new life and the rest would be decided for him.

Marco was only half a block away when a car came screaming down the street. It was going the wrong way down a one-way street, racing around the corner and going faster and faster. It was a jeep that Falcon knew belonged to the gang and he could recognize Rubio and another man in the backseat. They were gesturing wildly at Marco, and Falcon’s heart skipped as he saw them order Marco to turn around.

Shit. Stay cool, relax. Don’t give anything away. Shit. Something must be wrong. But what? Did they find out about the cops? Am I blown? Shit! Should I run? Should I stay? I can’t run, they’re all armed; they’ll shoot me before I’m ten feet away. Maybe being shot is preferable. Wait. Patience. They might not know anything. Shit! Just wait.

His thoughts were panicked and out of control. They were rushing over each other as each one overtook the other. But none of them really helped him. He couldn’t run; he wouldn’t get ten feet before he was shot. It might be nothing; he had gone this long without getting caught. He couldn’t panic now. His mind was racing but up front he kept a stern expression and his hands steady as he removed his helmet at watched the car come to a screeching halt in front of him.

Rubio jumped out of the car, surprisingly quick in his feet for such a large guy. He had his gun out and it was pointed right at Falcon. Falcon’s entire body tensed up, but his face remained an angry mask as he looked beyond the gun to the man holding it.

“The fuck, Rubio?” Falcon demanded. “You trying to steal the drugs? Is this a holdup? Because we kind of outnumber you.”

“The cops are fucking waiting for us. There was a shootout on the road. They know everything and the only way they could know is if you told them. You’re a fucking traitor, Falcon Marks.”

“What?” Falcon yelled. His stomach had dropped at Rubio’s accusation. He felt sick and he was shaking all over but his instincts had kicked in. His gut had spoken and it had told Falcon to lie about everything. He needed to protest his innocence no matter what they threw at him. “I’m not a fucking rat and fuck you for saying so. You think you can insult me like that?” Falcon threw down his helmet and jumped off his bike. And then a shot rang out, it hit the dirt right in front of his feet and Falcon was stopped dead in his tracks.

“Had to be you,” Rubio shouted. “There was only one person who knew everything, one person in charge of this operation. Do you think Ernie is stupid? Do you think he became the leader of the Screaming Eagles by luck? No! He got it because he is smarter than you. You’re the only one who knew all the details; there’s a rat in Screaming Eagles and it’s you.”

He felt every eye as they turned on him. He felt every glare from the men behind him as one by one they turned to stare at him. He could see hands as they reached for guns and he could see as they made eye contact with each other, each one silently talking with the other. They were thinking about how they could cut off any escape routes and deal with Falcon if he got violent.

“I’m not a rat! I swear it. This is bullshit. Somebody’s setting me up.” He searched the faces around him for some show of sympathy or anyone who could be on his side, but he was only met with anger and mistrust.

“First, there was the raid on the processing center, then the hit on the apartment, and now the cops are sitting on our route. What’s the one thing they all have in common, Falcon? It’s you. You were involved in all those operations and you somehow always managed to get away because you’ve been working with cops. Who knows for how long you’ve been ratting out your brothers. Take him.”

“Fuck off!” Falcon shouted, he pulled his gun out of his holster and pointed it at Rubio. “I’m not a traitor and I am not gonna let Ernie frame me for this shit.”

“Why would Ernie want to frame you; you barely exist to him.”

“That’s just it,” Falcon said. “I’m just like all of you. I’m a grunt. Ernie offered me this job, he promoted me, and it was all just a trick to frame me.”

“So what? Ernie’s the bad guy? The boss is ratting on his game. That don’t make no sense, Falcon. You ain’t getting away from this. So put your gun down and get in the car. We’re taking you home.”

“You think I’m just gonna go back with you? I know what they’re gonna do to me in that clubhouse. I would rather die here in the street like a dog then go back and face that.” Falcon had his gun held in both hands and it was pointed at Rubio’s face. “I’m a good shot and you know it. I’ll take at least four of you with me when I go.”

“You’re good, Falcon. But not that good. You might fire one round off, but you’ll be riddled with bullets before you can fire a second time. But let’s be real here. You’re not gonna die in this street. You claim you’re innocent? Prove it. Come back with me to the clubhouse and prove that you’re not working with the cops and then no one has to die.”

“You really want one of us to go out with you, Falcon?” Marco asked. “I thought we were all the same, just a bunch of grunts on the bottom of the totem pole. You really want to kill one of us on your way out? Why don’t you do what Rubio says and go face Ernie. Don’t die here like this, don’t kill anyone. At least make your case first.”

Falcon’s jaw clenched as he continued to aim his gun at Rubio. He regretted picking the gun up. He should have called Grace instead. There could be a dozen squad cars racing their way to him right now. But he had made a mistake. The squad cars were waiting by the side of the road for a shipment that was never gonna come.

“Take the truck to the clubhouse, clear out the rest of the warehouse. We need to be cleared out in twenty. Go. Now!” Rubio said to the men who had been standing around and watching. “Me and Marco can handle the little bird here.”

So what was he going to do? Going back to the clubhouse was worse than a death sentence. Dying was preferable to what they had in store for him there. Besides, hadn’t he been ready to metaphorically die a few minutes ago? But there was a difference between leaving everything behind and leaving the earthly plane behind. Falcon wasn’t ready to die, he just wasn't. He hadn’t been ready when the cops had raided the processing center and he wasn’t ready now.

Grace. She’ll come for me. The shipment should have left by now. In twenty minutes she’ll know something’s up. Hell, she probably knows now after the shootout. She’s probably on her way right now.

“I didn’t do it,” Falcon said. He looked Marco right in the eye. He didn’t care that he was lying. His literal life was on the line. He would have lied to the Pope himself at that moment if it would have extended his life even a little bit. He lowered his gun and Marco ran over and snatched it from him. Falcon’s phone was in his back pocket; he hoped he could get ahold of Grace, but Marco was smarter than he looked and he took the phone, too.

How is this happening? I was so close.
He couldn’t believe this. He had been so close, ready to leave everything behind. But somewhere along the line he had fucked up and now he was done for. 

Numbness fell over Falcon as his hands were wrenched behind his back and handcuffs were tightened around his wrist. He had been so close and so confident and now it was all ruined. He was going to die, horribly, and he was going to deserve it.

Chapter Thirty-One

He had no phone, no gun, no knife and he was handcuffed in the back of black SUV. Falcon Marks was fucked. They were taking him back to the boss, back home where he would be punished regardless of guilt. He was guilty, he knew that, but he didn’t feel guilty; he felt pissed that he had been caught. He should have paid more attention, should have watched the boss and seen how he acted. He should have known Ernie would go above him. He should have known his boss was going to check up him.

He hadn’t done this well enough. He had been made an informant by the police and then thrown straight to the lions. Grace hadn’t told him how to do anything; she just told him to keep her informed. That was all. He had done that and now he was fucked. She hadn’t helped him prepare for this in any way. He had done all of the work and what was his reward supposed to be? Nothing. He was rewarded by a fake death and a new life he didn’t want.

He watched the desolate buildings disappear as they were replaced with more open spaces as they left the city behind and headed out into the outskirts. Hidden down a nameless road was the Screaming Eagle’s headquarters. It made sense that Falcon would die there. It would be a full circle; he hadn’t been born in the clubhouse, but he had become Falcon Marks there. That place had turned him from an angry teenager into a man and it made a sick sort of sense that it would be the last place he saw.

“What’s your phone’s password, Falcon?” Marco asked from the passenger seat.

“Fuck off,” Falcon said, still staring out the window. Where was Grace? Something had gone wrong and she was no where to be found. Wasn’t she going to come and get him? She had put him in this situation and she needed to be the one to get him out of it.

“That didn’t work. Is there a space between
fuck
and
off
?” Marco asked.

“
Fuck off
is not the password,” Rubio said with a sigh. “He’s telling you to fuck off.”

“Oh,” Marco said, his face falling a little. “Hey! You fuck off, Falcon. You’re the traitor, not me.”

“I’m not a traitor,” Falcon said quickly. He needed to keep that one thread alive. He was innocent; he didn't do it. He needed to say it enough until he believed it himself. He hoped the repetition of the lie would somehow make it a truth.

He felt like he was going to throw up. He felt sick and lightheaded and desperately wanted to be anywhere else. He kept going over every mistake he must have unwillingly made in the last few days. His mind reworked space and time so Falcon had never met Grace, had never been chased by her in the woods, arrested by her, turned informant by her. If only he had escaped that day in the woods. If only a million things would have been different, then Falcon might not be in the situation.

There was no changing anything. He could only move forward now. He was out of control. He had no say in what was about to happen. He needed to be smart and he needed to be patient. He needed to stay alive long enough for Grace to come and get him. She hadn’t come yet, which was troublesome and from the back seat he could see that his phone hadn’t rang or received a text. Maybe she was just being cautious. Maybe she knew he had been busted and she was trying to keep him from getting in even more trouble. Maybe she was planning a big rescue right at that moment.

Or maybe she had just written him off. The coffee he had drunk earlier was stirring about in his stomach as they pulled into the Screaming Eagles’ headquarters. It looked like it always did. A sturdy but rundown wooden building tucked away from the road, hidden from any prying eyes. But at that moment as the door was opened and Falcon was dragged out of the car, the building looked like something out of a horror movie. It was all dark windows and broken shutters. His body was fighting against going inside, his instincts screaming at him not to enter. But he had no choice.

The door was opened and Falcon faced down a room full of furious look Screaming Eagles. He realized then he would have to walk the gauntlet. The boss was nowhere to be seen, but the club was filled with members. As the door opened the members split down the middle making a path Falcon would have to traverse.

“Move, rat,” Rubio said as he pushed Falcon forward. His hands were still handcuffed behind his back as he stumbled into the clubhouse. He stood straight and marched down the makeshift aisle, but he didn’t get far before it started.

“Traitor!” someone yelled.

“Rat!”

“Burn the rat!”

“Kill the traitor!”

They were screaming at him. All of them and all at once. Like a flip had been switched and the members of the club had turned from friends to people who wanted to watch him burn. He didn’t stop, he didn’t hesitate, he marched down that makeshift aisle. People were grabbing at his clothes, shoving at him, and spitting on him and with every stumble, Rubio was there to shove him forward. He pushed forward but it was nearly impossible to get any momentum. People were trying to hold him back like they wanted to pull him back into the crowd where they could rip him to shreds.

It was a spontaneous act of group fury. Nothing like this had ever happened to the Screaming Eagles before. Falcon was depending on Rubio to get him to the boss’ office; he didn’t know what would happen if the crowd managed to grab him. So step by slow tortured step, Falcon pushed his way through the gauntlet. But there was only one place to go, one place that was worse. The boss’ office. Falcon had no idea what awaited him in there, but his imagination wasn’t short on ideas.

Marco opened the door and pushed Falcon through. He closed the door with him and Rubio on the other side. It was just Falcon and Ernie alone in the tiny, smoke-filled office. The boss looked at Falcon across his huge desk. His face was set into a deep frown and his eyes were filled with fury.

“You little piece of shit,” Ernie said. His voice was quiet, but it seethed with anger and hatred and frustration. It was worse than yelling. Yelling was the punishment; if the boss wasn’t yelling, the punishment hadn’t started yet.

“I’m not a rat,” Falcon said, his words tumbling over each other as he hurried to get them all out. He opened his mouth to speak again, but he didn’t know what to say and so his mouth hung open as Ernie continued to speak in that low and dangerous voice.

“Liar,” Ernie hissed. “You betray me and then you come to my office and you don’t even have the dignity to admit what you’ve done? Grow up, Falcon. Be a man for once in your life. You swore on your daughter’s life that you weren’t working with the cops. You swore on your child’s life. What kind of man does that?”

“Don’t touch Sophie,” Falcon said. His heart had stopped beating; he could barely breathe. Sweet innocent Sophie, how had he involved her in all of this? What had he been thinking.

“Suddenly you care about your daughter? Did you care when you gambled her life? You’re a bad father, Falcon, don’t try and make up for it now. It’s too late for that. You’re nothing. Do you understand that? You are nothing. You are a useless grunt who barely knows his asshole from a hole in the ground. Did you really think I was going to promote you? Did you think I would really put you in charge of anything? You’re an idiot and everybody knows it. No one in this gang had any faith in you. You could have changed that, Falcon. You could have made a name for yourself, but I guess they were right. You are useless, a stain on this organization. And a promise is a promise, Falcon. I’m going to make you pay for betraying me. I’m going to hurt you more than you’ve ever been hurt before and then I’m gonna hurt you some more. And when you finally come to me and beg me for death, I will be merciful and grant it.

“Marco!” The boss cried out. Marco quickly swung open the door and peered in. “Give Falcon to the crowd,” he continued with a lazy wave of his hand.

“Wait!” Falcon cried as Marco began to tug on his arms. “I’m innocent. I wasn't working with the cops. I swear it. You have to believe me, don’t do this!”

But it was too late, Marco and Rubio were pulling him out and the cuffs were digging in his wrists and he got one look at the angry faces waiting for him before he was thrown into the crowd and the world was rendered to nothing but violence and pain.