Gabriel - Jessie Cooke Page 0,27

for another. When he told her it wasn’t going to happen, she literally freaked out. He had to have her carried off the property...and that wasn’t the end of it. She broke in while he was sleeping one night and threatened him with a gun, she broke a whiskey bottle another night and cut his belly...he still had the scar to prove that one. Luckily, by the time Sal got back from college, Love had met Lear and it was a love story made in hell. They’d been together now for over thirty years and it was another reason Blackheart had no respect for the other man...anyone who could tolerate Love for thirty-plus years had to be the devil himself. He didn’t trust Love as far as he could pick her up and throw her so he reiterated again, “Seriously, make sure they know what a crazy, unpredictable bitch she is.” Most of his guys knew that already, but he didn’t want them underestimating her just because she was a woman. If she could, she’d run her own MC, and Blackheart didn’t doubt that she probably ran the Mad Men already, just from behind the scenes.

“Got it, boss,” Le Pirate said.

“Once the girls and kids are out, I’ll tell Lear and Newton how it’s going to be. We’re taking Gregor and I don’t want to see another Mad Men kutte anywhere in Jefferson Parish again because the next time Gregor won’t be the only one who bleeds.”

“You got it, boss,” Le Singe said; he was already motioning to Big Mickey and Le Pirate got on the phone to pass the plan on to their road captain Lowlife and the three prospects with him. Then they would wait, and once they got a text back that the shop was closed and the civilians were out of there, that’s when they’d roll again, right up to the front door of that club. Blackheart sat on his bike silently, thinking again about what Gregor and his friends had done to Sharon, feeling sick to his stomach with rage and realizing that although waiting to get his hands on him was hard, the hardest part would be stopping short of killing him when he did. Whether or not he succeeded at stopping short still remained to be seen.

10

By the time they got to the Mad Men’s little compound, the shop was closed up tight, just like the text from Lowlife told them it would be. The second they were close enough for their engines to be heard, Lowlife and the prospects entered from the back, guns drawn. Blackheart and the rest of the men rolled up out front in time to take the front door. A few of the Mad Men, Lear’s SAs and two of his enforcers, had their guns drawn as well, but no one had fired a shot...yet.

“What the fuck is this?” Lear asked, as soon as he saw Blackheart. Blackheart’s blue eyes scanned the room, landing on several young women and one little boy about nine years old. He looked at Lear and said:

“Big Mickey here is going to take your women and children up to the shop so we can talk. You’re welcome to send one of your men up with them...anyone but the one you call Gregor.” Blackheart hadn’t known what Gregor looked like, but as soon as he said the name he heard the sound of a glass being set down hard on top of the bar and suddenly he was looking at the piece of shit who had caused all of this trouble. He was mid-thirties, maybe. It was hard to tell because of all the hair on his face. His tats ran up from underneath his t-shirt and kutte to just under his chin and one side of his long hair was shaved and there was a tattoo on the side of his head, a cartoon man that looked like Yosemite Sam, the Mad Men logo.

“This is my house,” Lear said. “Who the fuck you Cajun bastards think you are, rolling up in here giving orders?”

“We can do this without clearing out the women and kids, if that’s what you want,” Blackheart said. Lear glanced around the room. One of the girls had stepped up behind the boy and had her arms around him. The poor kid looked scared, and Blackheart’s chest hurt looking at the little boy’s wide, brown eyes. He was banking on Lear being human, and suddenly worrying that he’d made a