Page 89 of Smitty

“Got more… Heard from Stone earlier this morning, and Kansas is clear, too. Same with Gus and the Memphis chapter.”

One by one, every Fury chapter that had been dealing with bullshit from the Coyotes had put them in the ground or run them out of town.

Everyone except us.

Prez didn’t have to say it. We were all thinking it, and the silence around the table confirmed it. Creed finally said, “Time for us to do the same.”

“And we will, but first, we’ve gotta figure out who’s behind all this shit. Otherwise, we’ll just be chasing our own damn tail and not get anywhere.”

“What about this Raymond guy who took all the pictures?” Rusty asked. “Any chance he’s behind it all?”

“There’s always a chance.”

“But we won’t know until we find him.”

Rusty sounded surprised when he asked, “Still no luck finding him?”

“We’re working every lead we got,” Shep answered. “Memphis and Ghost searched the house, went to his work, and even checked some of the bars where he spends most of his paycheck. No sign of him.”

I thought about the kid sitting in the back room. He was probably shaking in his damn boots, but he might just be the answer to our problem. “What about the Benson kid?”

“What about him?”

“If his old man was a Coyote, he ought to know who he used to run with.” I shrugged. “Maybe he could tell us if this Raymond fella is just some asshole with a Fury fetish or if there’s a reason he’s been collecting intel on us.”

The thought sat heavy on my chest. The kid had been dragged into our mess because of a mix-up with his damn name, and now, I was offering him up like he might be the answer. I didn’t like it, but it might be worth trying.

The room fell quiet, and I figured they all had the same thought.

Maybe it was too much.

And then, Prez looked to Creed, and he gave him a subtle nod. Prez then turned his attention back to me and said, “Smart thinking, brother.”

“He might not know shit.”

“But if he does…” Prez turned his attention to Grim. “Take him a picture of Raymond and see what he knows.”

“I don’t know, Preach. I got him pretty rattled. You might wanna let someone else give it a go.”

“Who you got in mind?”

Grim turned to me, and I immediately shook my head. “Aw, hell no. I ain’t whooping up on no kid.”

“Just need you to talk to him, Smit. Not whoop up on him,” Grim chuckled. “Besides, you might get somewhere with him… You’re younger and less threatening.”

“That’s not exactly a compliment, brother.”

“Doesn’t make it any less true.”

“He’s right,” Prez agreed. “You could give a different take on this whole thing and get him to talking… Maybe even convince him that we can make this whole thing worth his while.”

The Coyotes were doing all they could to dismantle Fury. We’d all watched it happen. They figured the easiest way to break us would be taking out our presidents. They thought if they cut off the head, the rest of the club would fall apart, but they got it all wrong.

Losing a president would hurt.

Hell, losing any brother would hurt, but Fury wasn’t built on just one man. The second a brother was down, another would step in to fill in the gap. Vice presidents carried the weight until the president was back on their feet. Sergeants at Arms tightened security, enforcers took on extra patrols, and brothers picked up extra runs without question.

Prospects filled in wherever they could, handling anything from extra surveillance to taking on extra runs. Nobody waited to be told. We weren’t just a handful of guys wearing the same damn patch. We were family, and families don’t fold when things get hard.