Size Matters (Chaos and Carnage MC 1)

Bull stayed in the chair with his feet up on top of the counter even as he heard the sound of a car entering his garage.

It was a slow day.

He’d pissed off a load of customers, and people were giving him the space he needed, including his club.

The reception door opened, and he didn’t look to see who it was.

“Slow day?” Dylan asked. The sheriff was the last person he wanted to see.

“Fucking slow day,” he said. Lifting his head, he looked at Dylan. “What do you have for me?”

“Not a whole lot. Your boy at the gym, he’s clean.”

Putting his legs to the floor, Bull stood up. “No, that isn’t possible.”

“I’m afraid it is. There’s nothing on him. He’s a professional personal trainer. Has been for the past fifteen years. He’s well regarded and people travel miles to find him.”

“Why the fuck is he in Carnage?” he asked.

If someone was so damn good at what he did, why wasn’t he in the city?

Dylan pulled a file out of his jacket pocket. “He was a victim of a mad stalker a couple of years ago. The woman became obsessed with him. She began to hurt his clients. Men and women. In the end, she tried to kill him. He quit, packed up, and ended up taking a long vacation until he came here.”

Bull glanced through the file. The woman who was the stalker looked pretty. She had the weird eyes though. The mad stalker eyes.

“Okay.”

“He’s not your guy.”

“Anyone else in town?” Bull asked.

“I’ve checked the motels, the bed-and-breakfasts. Nothing. No one is staying in this town, or if they are, they are lying low.”

“What about any recent home purchases?” he asked.

“None. The last piece of land to be sold was the old field, and that’s coming up as a private contract.”

Bull slammed the file closed and handed it to Dylan.

“How bad are we looking for this to blowback on the people?”

“I don’t know,” Bull said. “They’re being smart, which is new.”

“I hate to say this, but when my old man was in charge, he would say that people didn’t need to be living for them to be moved in.”

“What do you mean?”

“The Vito Crew are mean sons of bitches, right?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s to say they haven’t killed someone and decided to move in?” Dylan sighed.

“That would require house calls,” Bull said.

They needed to do this on the down low.

“There’s a property about ten miles back. An old rundown ranch. No one has been in it for years. The place is practically condemned. Have you checked that out?”

“No,” Bull said, getting to his feet. “Do you want to take a little trip?”

“Only if you agree to do this my way,” Dylan said.

“Not a fucking chance. Let’s go.” Bull moved toward his bike and straddled his machine.

“Don’t you want to drive with me?” Dylan asked.

“I’d rather suck my own dick than ride in that thing.” He pulled out of his garage parking lot and took to the roads that led to the old rundown ranch. He knew the place. Even as a kid, the place had been a crumbling mess of ruin.

He’d been playing there when he was a teenager when one of the walls had fallen down. A couple of kids had gotten hurt, which was why the place had been locked up tight. This was just one of the barns.

Some kids used to break into the house at night, make out, have sex, smoke pot, do some drugs. It was a death trap of the highest order.

Bull slowed his bike down as he pulled up to the main gate and saw the bolts were on the floor, and the gate partially open.

Dylan was a few minutes behind him.

“It could be kids,” Dylan said.

“Yeah, I don’t think kids would leave the gate looking shut for any onlooker.” There was too much overgrown brush for him to see clearly. “Fuck.”

Dylan pulled his gun out of his back pocket.

Bull rolled his eyes.

“Don’t give me that shit. We both know you’re packing,” Dylan said.

Pulling his own gun out, he made sure it was loaded and ready. Together, they entered the gate. Bull didn’t wait for instructions because he was tired of always fucking waiting.

Dylan wasn’t too far behind him as they sped toward the house. When they were close, he slowed down to a stop, the good sheriff out of breath.

“You good?” Bull asked.

“Super.” The pants came in hard.

He glanced around the tree, and sure enough, he saw the evidence of a car.

“Someone’s here,” he said.

“You sure?”

“The car is in pristine condition.” He moved from his position and got close to the ranch.

It looked worse than the last time he saw it. One of the walls beneath the window had fallen down. The place was a mess, and that was putting it mildly.

“I’m going to check the back,” Bull said.