Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 82930 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82930 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
For Fritz’s own safety, he wasn’t given a gun. He was a disaster in all fields, but he was loyal. Even when pressured by the cops, or even one of their own, he didn’t cave, and for that, Warden and the club were impressed. Where some of the hardest men had buckled under pressure, Fritz hadn’t.
Warden tested them all. The club needed to guarantee the loyalty of every brother, so there was no doubt who had their back and who didn’t.
Fritz was starved, humiliated, and beaten. All he had to do was recite the small secret on the piece of paper, and he would have been saved. There would have been no club, and he would have been tossed on his ass, but he didn’t cave.
It was Warden’s final test. The piece of paper simply had an insult about one of the club brothers that had pissed Warden off at the time. With Fritz, it had been his own son saying Colt had a little dick. As far as Dirty was aware, even now Fritz hadn’t uttered that single word.
Heading out to the warehouse, they each had a code. Again, the protection detail that Fritz had set up. The gates opened, and he and Colt parked their bikes.
Dirty didn’t like the feeling he was getting and as he climbed off his bike, he reached for his gun.
“You’ve got that feeling as well?” Colt asked.
“It hasn’t stopped.”
“I’m the same.”
They looked around, and there was nothing out of place.
“It’s because we know they’re close.”
“That has to be it,” Dirty said.
Neither of them stopped holding their gun as they made their way inside to where Fritz was in front of multiple computer screens. They had the clubhouse set up, the diner, and he was even hacked into the town’s main security feed. Ever since the Evil Fuckers MC had disappeared, Warden wanted sight of everything.
He couldn’t blame the man. Dirty had no doubt whoever was left would blame them for the death of their club. Technically, that was correct. Colt did kill Daemon, but it was Daemon that was already on a warpath with his own club for accidentally killing Gabrielle. There was no way this shit could even be written, yet that was the life he lived.
“Hey, guys,” Fritz said, spinning around to look at them. “What’s going on?”
It was rare for any of them to come to the warehouse, unless they had instructions from Warden.
“Warden sent us. We need you to access all the security footage for the last twenty-four to forty-eight hours,” Colt said.
“Any specific place?”
“Evil Fuckers MC compound.”
Fritz spun back around and began typing away at the computer. Within a matter of seconds of his mad typing, the screens in front of them began to change footage. Once he accessed the areas, he began to rewind the footage.
Dirty took a step closer. “Would you know if you were under surveillance?”
“What? Like this warehouse being watched?”
“Yeah.”
“I wouldn’t know unless they came into view. I’ve got security and shit, but nothing that can tell me if anyone is outside the perimeter lurking. I just have to look for something suspicious.”
“Have you seen anything suspicious?”
“Not recently. The only people who know about this place are the club. Even Kim doesn’t visit here.” Fritz began to hum and this was one of his methods of working. Humming as he worked.
Dirty didn’t know exactly what he was doing but then Fritz stopped humming and simply said, “Huh.”
“Huh?” Colt asked. “What is huh?”
“For one hour the cameras were covered. Look.” He pointed at the screen. They were not able to see who it was, but something black covered the camera. “Clearly they didn’t want us to see what they were doing.”
“No, but they were also watching us when we began to install the security cameras,” Dirty said.
Colt cursed and began to pace. “It’s them.”
“Go back,” Dirty said.
“What do you mean?”
“Just go back, slowly, so if there are shadows or reflections in stuff, check all the angles,” Dirty said.
He stared at the screens and tried to look in any reflective surface. Anything the Evil Fuckers MC hadn’t thought about that would give away their identity. They all knew who they were fighting, but now he wanted to know which members, if he could even see them.
Fritz moved the counter back, and they changed the angle.
Dirty’s eyes were getting tired from staring at the screen, and that was when he saw it.
“Stop,” he said.
A single car, but clear enough to see the group of men, and he noticed the delivery driver.
“There.”
Colt came to stand beside him. “Shit, how did you spot that?”
“They knew,” Dirty said. “They knew exactly where the cameras were, so they tried to evade them, but they didn’t know the direction they were staring at.”
“What does this have to do with anything?” Colt asked.
“Simple, we’ve got a dead body on our land. We’ve got proof that the body was dumped.”