Devil's Sons M.C. (Manxman)

29.

Hunter

"Schedule stays the same as last week. So Bruiser, Mamba, Cross are on gun delivery, Capitan and O'Reilly are on drug run from Los Santos........." I let my thoughts drift away as Luke continues his rambling.

It's been five weeks since the whole fiasco of missing guns and shit, yeah we never found them. Vardan had gotten to know about the Cartel guys coming to Stockton and that didn't bode well with him.

The Armenians and the Mexican cartel have had a long standing feud, dating back to the 70's. The story says the Armenians had basically come and taken over the soliciting business which was on the Mexican turf.

As if that isn't enough, let's not get started on the massive elephant in the room, ever since JJ got de-patched from the club. It's like a forbidden topic to talk about even till now, especially with the circumstances in which everything went down.

I've never been one to regret things, never been my style mostly because before doing shit, I've thought it through a million times. However, I find that when it comes to the prospect, I tend to lose my logical sense and another equally strong sense takes over. I can't say what that sense is yet, mostly because I don't know how to describe it. But it's only wrapped around protecting JJ, and not the protect my guys instincts I have as VP. It's this extreme feeling of protection, care, like all he needs to do is ask and it shall be his for the taking.

"Where's mamba? He's not here yet." Cross says next to me, too close for my liking and still too fidgety for my taste. Who the hell patched this guy in?

"Don't know, he gonna be kicked out too?" I raise my eyebrow questioningly at the guy. If he had something to say about mamba then he was more than welcome to, I just don't guarantee his teeth remaining in his mouth after his words.

He sucks in his top lip, trapping it between his teeth deep in thought before eventually replying. "You know I'm the new guy here, some of the guys even still call me prospect but it also makes me the fresh set of eyes in this club. This silent war and rebellion on your side towards Luke is breaking the club. He runs most of his decisions past O'Reilly now instead of you and most of the guys are noticing that. We're falling apart even more so now that we're in war, our bond is broken, brother."

Rebellion? Rebellion? They think this me rebelling?

That has to be the most insane thing I've heard in my life.

This, all this is the evidence of my guilt eating me alive.

I could deny it all I want but it doesn't take away the fact that JJ was punished for both of our crimes. Everytime I step foot past that threshold into this clubhouse, the wave of guilt circles me again. This club is everything to me, it's my sense of identity, belonging. But lately it has always felt like I shouldn't even be here, like I'm punching a ticket that's not even mine. 

"Go round up the prospects and load the furniture into the van, prospect." I snarl at him. Turning around, I pull out my phone to call mamba and inquire where he is, but not without hearing Cross mumble under his breath.

"Cross, it's Cross. Who am I kidding, he's not gonna remember anyways." I roll my eyes at the guy.

I dial the number immediately, he picks up on the second ring. "Where are you?"

Little did I know that my day would only turn around for the worst.

"On my way to booking." A little vague which is why I proceed to ask why he was on his way to the county jail.

"Dickory and Chancellor were arrested today."

That bitch.

Extreme rage builds up in my body, my fist tightens, my brows furrow, sweat runs down my temple, all I see is spilled blood and it definitely isn't mine.