Page 8 of Brooks (Dirty Misfits MC 1)
Freedom.
The air smelled like freedom today.
“All right, so,” Porter said as his voice came alive in my ear, “we need to talk about Chops.”
I blinked. “All right. What’s going on with Chops.”
“How much do you know about how the club has changed since you’ve been gone?”
I shrugged. “Not much, especially since you asshats stopped visiting about a year ago.”
“Hey, not my fault this club went to shit. Had a relapse over it and everything.”
I peeked over at him. “Seriously? You started drinking again?”
“Once I tell you the story, you won’t be able to blame me one bit.”
I vowed to keep an eye on Porter to make sure he stayed on the wagon this time around. Because the last thing I needed was him sinking back into his old, destructive ways.
We almost lost him twice due to that nonsense.
“So, you know Hyde was killed, right?”
I almost ran my bike off the damn road. “Wait a second, what?”
He sighed. “Oh, boy. Okay, backing up even further. Remember when he got off on his charges with nothing but probation and an ankle monitor?”
“Uh, yeah. I was there for the sentencing.”
“Well, a couple of weeks later he’s helping out with a job, right? With a fucking ankle monitor on, because he’s an idiot. Well, he has Chops and me come to his house, we’re planning shit to transport a car, and boom! Police swarm. Chops and I got out just in time, but that’s only because Hyde started shooting.”
My jaw unhinged in shock. “You’re fucking kidding me.”
“Nope. Just shot as much as he could. And the police shot back. They riddled his body with bullets, man. It was insane.”
I shook my head. “That doesn’t make any sense. None whatsoever.”
“Trust me, I know. Oh, and get this: when they raided his house looking for things after killing him, they found a closet full of coke.”
I almost slammed on my brakes. “No. No way. Hyde was as clean and as good as they come. There’s no fucking way.”
“Right!? I wanted to fill you in on all of this because I don’t know what the hell’s happened to our club. But it’s not what you remember.”
We finally hopped onto the highway and headed for Santa Cruz. “Tell me everything.”
He pulled up next to me. “Well, Chops is President now, and he’s pushing us to get into shit I don’t agree with. We went from modding cars and helping with sales transport to running guns, man.”
I paused. “Guns? Seriously? After the stink Hyde kicked up seven years back when Chops even suggested it?”
“Yep. Want to know the juiciest part of all this?”
I looked over at him. “Spit it out, Porter.”
He clicked his tongue. “I caught wind a few weeks ago that Chops has been cherry-picking guys from the club to run drugs on the side. Only reason I know this is because I overheard a conversation in the back rooms I shouldn’t have heard.”
My mind raced back to the night of the bust. I thought about the drugs that had been in the trunk of the car, and the drugs that Porter says they found in Hyde’s house.
Did Chops know about any of this?
Was this Chops’ plan all along?
Fuck, I’ve been upset with the wrong man all these goddamn years.
“Why the hell didn’t you tell me this sooner?” I growled.
Porter chuckled in my ear. “What? You want me to strut my shit into a prison, start talking about illegal shit, and just walk right on out?”
I sighed. “Good point.”
“I kept you as updated as I could with the letters and shit. But all of this nonsense got to be too much for me. I’m sorry, man.”
I shook my head. “No apology necessary. I get it.”
“Do you—do you think Chops set up Hyde?”
I chewed on the inside of my cheek as the wind wrapped around my body. “I just can’t bring myself to think something like that. I mean the word of mouth is there, sure. But there’s no hard evidence. Chops and Hyde were best friends ever since childhood. It takes a lot to break that bond.”
“Like more money and more power.”
I swallowed hard, desperate to change the subject. “Have you heard from Raven at all since this shit took place?”
“Nah, and I can’t say I blame her.”
“Have you been checking on her? Making sure she’s got what she needs?”
He snickered. “From afar, sure. But the one time I knocked on her door, all she did was slap me across the cheek. She’s got a pretty decent back-hand, too.”
I chuckled. “Sounds about right.”
“However, I’ve been going and keeping tabs on her at work and her place once or twice a week. She seems to be doing all right. Works full-time at the daycare now. Renovated her townhouse a couple of years back.”
I nodded. “Good, good. Let’s make sure she stays okay and out of this bullshit until we can drill down to the meat of it.”
