The Biker's Fate Chapter 690

I raised my glass, and Warlock responded, raising his.

"To the beautiful Maggie and to peace," I said.

"Salud," Warlock replied, before taking a drink of his Vodka.

"Well? Does it pass inspection, or do I need to wait here while you go and kill the bartender?"

"We're good," he replied.

"Are we good?" I asked, motioning between the two of us.

"If you're asking if I enjoyed the basket full of weed, the answer is no. Another thing incarceration gave me was a way to kick meth. Once free from the grip of methamphetamines, I vowed to never touch drugs again."

"Glad to hear it and congratulations on your… ah… sobriety?" I said, formed as more of a question because I'm not sure his idea of sobriety was the same as mine.

During a recent all members meeting I told my guys that Warlock was unpredictable, and this was the kind of shit I was talking about. Here he was, trying to corner every drug market in northern Oregon while toasting to his own three years of prison house sobriety.

"Earlier I asked if you'd read, the Count of Monte Cristo by Dumas," Warlock said.

"Uh, yeah. Back in high school, I think. I don't remember much. It's about a French guy in prison, right?"

Warlock smiled. "It's about an innocent man who is unjustly sent to prison for six years, but escapes, amasses wealth and power then takes his revenge on those who benefited from his incarceration. Sounds a little familiar, don't you think?"

"You getting locked up had nothing to do with me," I said.

"Not the last few stretches, but back when we were kids, you left me holding the bag when you split San Diego for Portland. I got locked up for the first time right after you left. From then on, I was in and out of the pen for the next thirty years, bro."

"You can't possibly put any of that shit on me. You know why I had to come up to Portland, and I told you straight up that I was gonna join Crow's new club."

"We had a club. Me and you, down in Daygo. Remember? We were just starting to make a name for ourselves when you split."

"We were kids. We had five members and one of them didn't even have a bike."

"It was a start, but everything ended as soon as you left, and I had to start all over again without you."

"Everything ended when you fucked my wife," I snapped. "I could have ended you right then and there, but I didn't."

"You didn't kill me because you knew your marriage was already over and you didn't have the balls to call the time of death."

I scowled. "So, what? I'm supposed to thank you for betraying me?"

"I woke you the fuck up is what I did. And look at what happened after that. You started a club, found an old lady, got married and had kids. Now you're a club president and everybody seems to think you walk on fucking water."

"So, you're pissed off that I'm happy?"

Warlock shook his head. "I'm pissed that you did it all without me. After everything we'd been though, and you know what the fuck I'm talking about, you abandoned me. I went to prison, and you went to the penthouse. I showed you what a whore your old lady really was, and you were to damned self-righteous to see what a gift I'd given you. You tossed me out like a piece of trash and now I want some compensation."

"Jesus Christ, Warlock. I thought we were here to talk about the future, not dig up the past."

"All I have is the past. You had a future."

"What the fuck do you want from me?"

"I told you, already. I want your grow business."

"We gave you our answer. I can't afford to lose the grow op and Sundance doesn't want to do business with you. It's nothing personal. It's simply business. We run a clean and legal shop and don't need blood from the streets staining our reputation."

Warlock threw his hands up. "I get it. One hundred percent was greedy on my part. You can't blame a guy for trying though, can you? How about twenty percent? Does that sound better to you?"

"Even if I could get Sundance to agree, why the hell should I give you twenty percent?"

Warlock laughed. "Oh, shit. That's my bad, brother. No, I meant I'd settle for taking only eighty percent and giving you twenty, which would be mighty generous on my part to be honest. You get twenty percent of a lucrative business in which you need not lay a hand in and the peace of mind that the Dogs and their families can sleep well at night."

I stood up. "We're not brothers and I'm not afraid of you. We dealt with your predecessors and the Beast, and we can deal with you. I'm not sure what it is about my club that makes you all think you can fuck with us, but you'd be wise not to underestimate us. Do yourself and your club a favor. Stay in Gresham and forget you ever knew my name."

"I thought you'd be smarter than this Hatch. I hoped that after tonight you might even consider patching over to the Spiders. You and anyone else from your club. It's the smart move, man. We're growing and we could use guys like you."

I peeled a hundred off my money roll and threw it on the table. "That's for the drinks and a tip for Maggie. Now here's a tip for you. Stay the fuck away from my family, stay the fuck away from my club, and stay the fuck away from me, or I will make you dig your own grave before I put you in it."

Warlock jumped to his feet, pointing to a patch on his cut. "Can you read that, motherfucker? It says one percenter. I will put two in the back of your head without hesitation."

"Makes sense," I replied. "That's usually how a coward does it."

"You're lucky I respected you enough to come without fire power," Warlock seethed.

"Oh, yeah? I don't fuckin' respect you at all," I said before giving the signal.

A round from Trouble's rifle pierced through the window nearest our table and embedded itself into a nearby support column. Warlock looked like he didn't know whether to shit his pants or lunge at me across the table.

"Make a single, solitary move and the next bullet has your name on it," I said.

"If you think I'm just gonna let this slide—"

"I'd strongly advise that you walk the fuck away from the Dogs of Fire and our allies," I said. "Portland will never belong to the Spiders." I peeled off another five-hundred dollars, and dropped it on the table. "That's for the mess."

With that, I turned and walked away. Once I was on my bike and ready to roll, I gave Trouble another signal and smiled as I rode away to the sound of high-powered rounds ripping through Warlock's bike.