Page 25 of Raggedy Dan
Chapter Eight
Dan
Church was packed tighter than a dive bar on payday.Every chair around the scarred oak table was taken by full members, and the prospects lined the walls like silent sentinels, arms crossed, eyes sharp.The air smelled of coffee and cigarettes.Tinder banged the driveshaft once, their version of a gavel.The sound was sharp, and the room snapped to church quiet.The metal bar was used to gavel meetings open and closed, and had also been utilized as a commonsense knocker in the past too.
“Three HHMC remnants hit Ink & Iron this week.”Tinder started with no preamble, no bullshit.“They put hands on a civilian female.Dan handled it.”
A low, collective growl rolled around the table.Brothers shifted, knuckles whitening on chair arms.Good.His club was pissed on Riley’s behalf.That mattered more than words.
Denver leaned forward and flicked a remote.A grainy still from a traffic cam appeared on the wall-mounted screen: a man in a dark hoodie handing something to one of the three pricks from yesterday.His face was obscured by shadow and a low brim, but the posture, from the way he stood, with shoulders cocked like he owned the space, was too familiar.
“Betrayer?”Rocker asked, voice raw with anger.
“Likely,” Denver confirmed.“Signal pings put a known burner within twenty miles of the shop.Same burner pinged through to a store where the betrayer bought the phones we found in the HHMC assholes’ bags.Two days ago.Cash, no ID.Whoever it is, they’re coordinating.”
Viper, the sergeant-at-arms, cracked his knuckles.“We should’ve buried every last HHMC patch when we had the chance.This ghost is playing with fire.”
“Agreed,” Gunner said from the far end, arms folded.“But absorbing the few we patched over was Tinder’s call, and it was the right one then.Question is, do we keep the door cracked for any more of ‘em or slam it shut?”
Tinder’s gaze swept the table.“That’s why we’re here.Speak.”
Rocker went first.“I say no more.We took the ones who proved themselves with allegiance checks and blood in, blood out.Anyone still wearing Horde colors is either too stupid or too loyal to the wrong people.We don’t need that risk.”
Viper nodded.“Second.Every time we let one in, we roll the dice on another knife in the back.Look what happened last year.”
Gunner snorted.“We’re down to what, a dozen known survivors?If they’re organizing, they’re desperate, not organized.Starving dogs snap at anything.I say we hunt ’em, end ’em, and be done with ’em.”
“Guys yesterday claimed they were the final three,” Dan said.“Not that I believed them, but you should hear their words.”
Denver tapped the table.“Data says they’re scattered all over.We made sure there was no central leadership left.But that ghost?He’s the glue holding their anger together.When we find him, the rest will fall apart.”
Tinder looked at Dan.“You’ve got skin in this now.The woman, Riley Monroe, she’s yours?”
The room went still.Every eye turned to him.
Dan didn’t hesitate.Didn’t blink.He spoke confidently into the quiet.“Hell yeah.She’s mine.”
A beat of silence.Then nods rippled around the table, slow, deliberate, the kind that carried weight.No one questioned his declaration.When a Maniac claimed a woman as his old lady, that was law.Full stop.
Tinder’s mouth twitched, the barest hint of approval.“Then she gets full protection.Dan’s primary.I want two more on rotation.I say Viper, you, and Gunner take days.Denver keeps digging on the ghost.We find this motherfucker, and we end him.No loose ends.”His eyes swept the room once more.“Clear?”
“Clear,” the table answered as one, voices low and hard.
