Sugar (The Henchmen MC 12)

"And yet you didn't come back to the compound. Where the fuck did you go?" I asked, not one bit of this making any bit of sense.

"Went home."

"What home? The compound was your home," I said, shaking my head. It was all of our homes. Even though we didn't have as big of a compound as The Henchmen had, so most of us lived in a nearby apartment building. But no one had lives that took them away from the club. No real home to go to.

"I got a Ma same as you, Sug. Might not see her much, but she's there. She was there when I couldn't get up to make myself food or run my own errands. Not for nothing. You were my brothers. But you ain't never been fucking caretakers. You'd tell me to pour vodka on my wounds and quit bitching."

Well, he wasn't wrong there.

"'Sides, I figured the prez was dead. The road captain was dead. The vice was locked up, and so was the sergeant. What the fuck was left? Figured it was about to collapse. Why bother coming back? From the looks of it," he said, eyes slipping down the front of my chest to my new cut, my new badges, my new loyalty, "you jumped ship too. So what the fuck you on my case about it for?"

"Yet when we walked in here talking about the dead prez sending texts from the afterlife, you didn't look the least bit shocked," Virgin cut in, clearly wanting to cut through the bullshit.

"'Cause maybe I heard some shit."

"What kind of shit?" Virgin snapped.

"Forgot how fucking cranky your ass gets," D said, looking over at him, his smile genuine, and just for a moment, I remembered the brotherhood we used to have, all the nights out drinking and fucking and raising hell. We had a lot of years together for it to come to a standoff like this in a seedy bar. "What? Can't find any willing pussy down there in Jersey?"

"How'd you know we were in Jersey?" I asked, watching as he sighed.

"You ain't the only one who keeps tabs on things. Like how Leftie is getting out on good behavior next week. Don't have dick to come back to since his old lady shacked up with some two-bit pot dealer up in Pennsatucky. But he's getting out. And the Yeti is working for the Polish down in Brooklyn."

"And the prez ain't dead."

"The prez ain't dead," he agreed, nodding as he tapped the rim of his glass, needing more to get through this.

"Then why the fuck did he disappear?"

"Look, you're asking the wrong man."

"How did you know he's not dead?"

"You really don't keep up on the old crew at all, huh?" he asked, looking at Virgin, then at me.

"Got a new crew. No reason," I said, shrugging.

His eyes went a little dark at that, likely thinking like I had been a minute before about all the times we had shared over the years, maybe a bit put off at how we had replaced all that.

He gave me a nod, reached to drain his new glass, hissed, and told us. "Didn't hear then that the vice and sergeant both got shivved in the clink?"

"Shivved?" I asked, feeling a small gut punch at the information. It was one thing to know your old crew was locked up. Most of us had done some time here or there. That came with the territory. It wasn't a big deal. But knowing they got killed on the inside, these men who had been brothers to us? That still had impact, no matter what crew we ran with now.

"And the word is it was a paid job."

"You're saying the prez had them taken out," Virgin concluded, brows drawing together as he looked at me.

"Look, I only know what the whispers have been. Can't confirm shit myself."

"And what are the whispers saying?"

"That the prez was into some shit that the vice and serg were onto him. Planning to take him out and take over. Some whispers even say that crush at the meet was staged. That people like me, like Chuck-" our road captain - "were collateral damage. That there was some huge stash of money that none of us knew dick about."

"Then why the fuck is he texting me? If he's on the run, why is he contacting us now?"

"Can't fucking say for sure, Sug. All I know is that you got a text. And I 'spect so did Rip since he up and left his apartment. His girl called me shrieking about it."

"You think there's trouble?" I asked, wondering how much of what he was saying was true, and how much was simply speculation.

D took a deep breath, turned his head, and looked me right in the eye. "You think I'd be here fucking day drinking if I thought everything was par for the fucking course? If I was smart, I'd run like Rip did. But I got a Ma here. And some sisters. If shit hits the fan, and he is coming for us for abandoning ship... you know him. He'll go after our people, Sug. I can't leave 'em. You got a Ma and a half-brother. You know what I mean."