Vance by Sandra R Neeley
Chapter 3
Connor watched as his guys arranged the bodies of the five men in the middle of the barroom. He doused them with gasoline, like he’d already done the rest of the room, then walked over to where Squeegee was standing. “I can do this,” he offered.
“I got it,” Squeegee said. He took out a book of matches and took one last look around the barroom. “Damn, I hate this,” he said.
“Me, too,” Connor agreed. He moved to the door to stand with his guys as Squeegee struck the match and tossed it onto the body of one of the males. “Rest in peace, Jared,” Squeegee whispered as the whole side of the room went up in flames thanks to the gasoline they’d flooded the first floor with.
“Let’s go!” Connor ordered urgently.
Squeegee turned and ran toward them, then all of them rushed out of the door, got on their bikes and rode away into the early morning sun that was just peeking over the horizon.
Squeegee looked into the small round mirror mounted on the outside edge of his handle-bars as they got further and further away from the bar. Though they were a fair distance away from it now, the thick plume of heavy, dark smoke was easily seen rising into the sky. Jared’s essence was in that smoke, along with all he’d worked to achieve since settling here. “They’re gonna pay,” Squeegee whispered, forcing himself to look away from the smoke they’d left behind them.
~~~
After they reached the clubhouse, they all sat around commiserating, talking about the unfairness of what had happened, and speculating on Kassidy’s location.
“I don’t know,” Connor said. “But I do know she wasn’t in that building. He managed to slip her out a side door or something and she’s long gone.”
“Had to have. Or maybe she ran while he was keeping them busy,” another answered.
“The whole thing is so fucked up,” Squeegee grumbled, draining the last of his chosen drink for the day from the bottle he gripped in one hand. “They were good people. They didn’t deserve this.”
“Being good people doesn’t guarantee you a good life,” Connor said soberly. “In fact, it’s usually the good that deal with more shit than those who have no problem taking advantage of the good.”
Squeegee closed his eyes and shook his head in frustration before getting up and walking out of the clubhouse. He waited a few minutes to be sure no one was coming out to join him, then took his phone out of his pocket and dialed the number Jared had made him memorize. His heart was pounding, and he was even starting to sweat from the apprehension coursing through him. Yeah, he ran with a fairly dangerous crowd. But he was well past his prime. All he wanted now was to drink his fill, kiss some nice ladies, and eat a good meal now and again. He didn’t want to be involved in all the bullshit that had just gone down, or in the bullshit yet to come. And he sure didn’t want to have to clean up the bodies of the fuckers that had harmed one of the nicest couples he’d ever met. They’d always been nice to him. Not just Kassidy, but Jared, too. Clenching his jaw against his emotions, he listened to the line ringing, waiting for somebody to answer his call.
“What?!” a male demanded on the other end of the line.
Squeegee swallowed, then forced his voice to work. “Idaho. 21947 Hwy 447. Just like your mom.”
“What?” the man asked again, less angrily than he’d answered.
“Jared’s gone. He said if something ever happened to him, to call you and give you the address and to say, ‘just like your mom’.” Squeegee ended the call, then dropped the phone to the ground and stomped it to pieces. He didn’t stop until there was nothing left of it that was larger than a dime.
The door opened and Connor stepped outside. “You good?”
“Yeah. Dropped my phone.”
Connor walked over and looked down at the phone on the ground. He looked up at Squeegee questioningly.
“I think I stepped on it,” Squeegee said.
“Repeatedly,” Connor added.
“Yeah.”
“You need to get some rest, Squeeg,” Connor said. He had a soft spot for the old man. He’d been an active member of his father’s club when Connor was a kid.
“I’m just not cut out for this kind of stuff anymore, Connor,” Squeegee said.
“I know. And none of us were prepared for this. Regardless of him alluding to it, we never thought it would happen. And he’s a friend, you know? That made it worse. But he knew the deal. Whatever caused it, he knew it was coming otherwise he wouldn’t have asked us to clean it all up if it ever happened.”
Squeegee nodded as he started back to the house. “I worry about Kassidy.”
“She’s not there. We set him ablaze with his men just like he asked, the very same ones that tried to oust him. They were all there, she wasn’t. We even checked the rest of the property.”
“I hope she’s safe.”
“We all do. We’ll keep an eye out for her in case she makes her way back. But one thing is for sure. She wasn’t there this morning.”
~~~
Jack Laighin sat at his usual spot at the kitchen table. He held his cards carefully in his right hand, guarded so that no one else could see them, and had a glass of bourbon sitting in front of him, as did most of those who sat around him. There were two bottles of Blanton’s Gold Edition Bourbon Whiskey on the table. Both about half gone. One of the males playing poker with him smoked a cigar, but no one else did.
“Call, and I raise you one-fifty,” Rance said.
Jack shook his head and counted out the money to add to the pile of cash in the middle of the table.
“Damn it, Rance, we’re just playing a game, not trying to make enough money to retire on,” Niko said.
“Just because you can’t play with the big boys is no reason to get your panties in a wad,” Rance said calmly, with his teeth clenching the cigar in his mouth.
“Fuck you!” Niko snapped, throwing down his hundred-fifty dollars to match Rance’s bet.
“Fuck all of you,” Draven announced, adding his own money to the pile, then laying out a royal flush.
“Sonofabitch!” Rance grouched, throwing his cards face down on the table, and reaching for his glass. He threw back the swallow of bourbon before pouring himself another.
“You’re a lucky bastard, or a cheating bastard! One of the two!” Niko announced.
“You saying I’m cheating?!” Draven asked, clearly offended.
“Hey! We all lost that hand. If you can’t play nice, children, don’t play at all,” Jack said calmly, the idea that one of them might not control themselves was not even a thought in his head. These were his most trusted males. They all lived under his rule, and supported him in all decisions he made — their loyalty unquestionable. They not only protected him, they saw to the inner workings of the Pride, carrying out his orders as he made them, without question, and handing them down to those they delegated to. He trusted them, as they trusted him.
“I’m out, boys,” Draven said, gathering his pile of money and scooting his chair back.
“Oh, hell no! Give us a chance to win our money back at least!” Niko said.
“I’m tired!” Draven said irritatedly.
“And I’m broke,” Niko said.
“Just deal the damn cards,” Rance said.
Jack’s phone rang, and they all stopped what they were doing and looked at the phone, waiting to see what whoever was on the other end wanted. No one ever called Jack just to say hello. Every damn time his phone rang, someone wanted or needed something. Even those Jack was wary of called for favors from time to time.
It rang two more times before Jack finally decided to answer it. He picked it up and looked at the screen. “Gotta be the wrong fucking number,” he grumbled. He swiped his finger across the screen and put it to his ear. “What?!” he shouted.
“Idaho. 21947 Hwy 447. Just like your mom.”
Jack sat up straighter in his chair, pressed the phone closer to his ear. “What did you say?” he asked, thinking surely, he’d heard wrong.
“Jared’s gone. He said if something ever happened to him, to call you and give you the address and to say, ‘just like your mom’.”
“Who the hell is this? Where’s Jared? Where’d you get this number?” Jack demanded, just as he heard the click of the call being disconnected.
Rance, Draven and Niko had all risen from their chairs, on alert, ready to do Jack’s bidding without hesitation. That was exactly why these three were his inner circle.
Jack looked at the phone in his hand, then up at his friends, and soldiers, if it came to it. Actually, more like lieutenants than soldiers — equally capable and deadly, all three.
“What’s happening?” Draven asked.
“I think Jared’s dead.”
“What?” Niko demanded.
“How?” Draven asked.
“Where is he?” Rance asked on a growl.
“Let’s go!” they all said together.
“When are we leaving?” Draven asked.
“Now. Man just gave me an address and said, ‘Jared’s gone’. Said Jared told him to call and tell me ‘just like your mom’.”
“I’ll get the car ready,” Niko said, not even waiting to hear the rest of the conversation.
“Who was it?” Rance asked.
“No idea. Never heard his voice before. Sounded old. Could hear the fear in his voice.”
“Maybe he did something to Jared,” Draven suggested.
“Then why would he still call with Jared’s coded message?” Jack asked.
“No clue,” Draven answered. “Either way, this stranger, or Jared, they want you there.”
“Yeah, well, they’re getting all of us, not just Jack. Where we headed?” Rance asked.
“Idaho,” Jack said as he stood and headed toward the door.
“Idaho? What the fuck is in Idaho?” Rance grouched as he followed Jack.
“Jared is apparently,” Draven said.
“Or he was,” Jack answered, his voice now cold and distant as he opened the front door and stepped out onto the porch.
“It’ll be alright. You know we’ll be there for you and him,” Draven said.
Jack didn’t answer, but he didn’t need to. They all knew they formed one cohesive unit and would die for each other if necessary.
“I’ll be right back. Don’t leave without me,” Rance said as he took off at a jog.
“You need help?” Draven called out.
“No, I got it,” Rance answered.
“If something has happened to Jared…” Draven said, leaving the sentence unfinished.
“We will have vengeance,” Jack growled, as he opened the door to the SUV that just came to a stop in front of him. He got in the backseat and closed the door behind himself as he started scrolling through screen after screen on his phone. He searched for any combination of Jared’s name or aliases he used to use in conjunction with the state of Idaho, but came up with nothing. Then he put in the address the unknown caller had given him, and it came up right away. “Arioch Bar.”
“What’s that?” Draven asked, turning around from the front passenger seat to see what Jack had found.
Jack showed his phone to Draven as he spoke to Niko. “That’s where we’re going. Drive around to Rance’s.”
“On it,” Niko said.
As they followed the road past the house and a few hundred feet beyond the expansive yard and foliage surrounding it, they saw Rance speaking to several other males. He finished his conversation as they drove up, then turned toward them, his stride sure as he made his way to the SUV.
Even Jack smirked when they got a clearer look at him. He had two semi-automatic weapons hanging from straps over his shoulders. A pistol tucked in his waistband, a small duffel packed to the point of splitting with only Rance knew what, and two holsters gripped in one hand, both of which had weapons in them as well.
He walked around the back of the car and got in the back seat beside Jack.
“You expecting war?” Jack asked.
“You never can tell,” Rance said.
“What’s in the duffel?” Draven asked.
“Ammo,” Rance answered. “Spoke to Paxton, Dane and Tate. Told them to go to Vance with any problems while we’re gone.”
“You talk to Vance?” Jack asked.
“No, figured you would,” Rance answered. “I can call him, though.”
“No, I got it,” Jack answered.
“You want one of us to stay behind?” Draven asked, looking back at Jack.
Jack shook his head just enough to be noticed, as he pressed his phone to his ear and waited for Vance to answer his call.
Everyone was quiet as the vehicle carried them silently closer to the highway.
“Hey!” Jack said into his phone the second Vance answered. “We’re out for a few days. Something that can only be handled personally. You have this while I’m out?”
Jack nodded, not that Vance could see him… “Paxton, Dane and Tate have already been briefed. Take everything to alert status. Make sure everyone knows to be suspicious of anything and everything for the moment. Only emergencies in and out. Call me with anything at all. You know what I would and wouldn’t do if there’s any question.”
Jack listened as Vance spoke, then answered again. “No, I’ve got Draven, Niko, and Rance. Everybody else is on duty, or waiting for their shift. Schedules are all known, and they all know their jobs. I’ll send a group message to those on security momentarily to back up your announcements.”
Jack paused as he listened, then spoke again. “Alright. I’ll be in touch.” He ended the call and looked at Rance. “Vance says don’t fuck it up.”
“You know?” Rance asked, “I’m gonna kick his ass.”
“You can’t. He’s your brother,” Draven said.
“Which just means I’ve got more reason to kick his ass than anybody else,” Rance said.
“Vance is good at his job,” Jack said, staring out of the window as they continued toward the highway.
“Which is just another reason to kick his ass,” Rance said.
“You’re good at yours. He’s good at his. Two totally different approaches,” Jack said.
“Yeah, Rance blows motherfuckers away when they get in his way, Vance strategizes, anticipates most things before they even happen, and prevents them,” Draven said.
“And if they do happen, then he blows motherfuckers up,” Niko added helpfully.
“But only if he has to,” Rance finished.
~~~
Kassidy was beyond the panicking stage. She’d hit panic and surpassed it hours, possibly even days ago. She’d been alone in the safe room for so long that she wasn’t even sure what day it was. When she’d entered the safe room the battery operated lanterns Jared had installed were already on, and they still were. She knew she could get several days out of the lanterns before she’d have to change their batteries, and she hadn’t had to do that yet. She was at least comforted by the thought that since the lanterns were still illuminated, she hadn’t been there as long as she felt she had.
She hadn’t slept yet. Not at all. Hadn’t actually done much except sob intermittently, and throw up a time or two from anxiety. She couldn’t hear anything. Had no contact with the outside world, and had no idea of what was happening. She didn’t know if Jared was alive or not, and still had no idea of what exactly caused Jared to hide her away down here, except for the fact that he heard three engines approaching them. Why the sound of three engines caused him to think they were threatened she still didn’t know. But she trusted him, and he thought she needed to hide, so she was hiding.
She lay down on the cot once again, this time allowing her eyes to close. And thankfully, despite the steady trembling, she fell into a fitful sleep. It was when she awoke hours later that the problems began to occur. When she opened her eyes, she could see nothing. Everything was in pitch-black darkness.
“Hello?” she called out nervously. She squeezed her eyes shut, knowing when she opened them, she’d still basically be blind because there was no light in the safe room at all. The batteries had died while she slept. And now, she couldn’t see to change them out, hadn’t even bothered to get the batteries ready, and most likely couldn’t find them in the darkness.
Without light the walls started closing in, and she began to grow claustrophobic. After a few more hours of complete darkness and silence she started having panic attacks. She screamed, she cried, and her fear over so many things finally overwhelmed her, taking its toll. Near hysterics, she felt her way up the cement stairs to the exit door, gasping the now stale air, her fear making her believe she couldn’t get a deep breath. She clawed and beat against the door keeping her sealed inside. Her hands became bruised and blood began to drip from her broken and jagged nails. Her last conscious thought as she crouched at the top of the stairs begging to be let out, was that she’d die down here. Jared must already be dead, and whoever he thought would come for her, wasn’t coming. She’d die down here, alone in the dark, and no one would ever find her body to lay her to rest.
She sobbed as she rested her head against the rough cement of the stairs near the very top of the rough staircase. She opened her eyes and tried to make out anything at all in the darkness. There was nothing to see, she may as well have been blind. Or buried alive. She closed her eyes again sending tears spilling down her face. That’s exactly what this was — she’d been buried alive.