Lake’s Legacy (Demon Dawgs MC: New Orleans #3)

Chapter Twenty-Seven Lake

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: LAKE

“What’s his problem?” Toff asks me.

“Probably just worried about Coyote,” I say, but I can’t fight the nagging feeling that there is more to it than that. To say Coyote and Crow have a tumultuous relationship doesn’t do it justice. Crow has always been jealous of Coyote and his position within the tribe. Growing up, I heard rumors that Crow had been in love with our mother before she married Dad. But no matter how often they clashed, Crow and Coyote always worked things out. Crow always has Coyote’s back. “He probably feels like he failed Coyote by not being there when he needed him.”

“I talked to the detective looking into the attack on Coyote,” Toff says. “He doesn’t have any leads, but he wanted to tell us that he’ll release Coyote’s house in the next few days. He has some of the paperwork bagged into evidence. I told him we might need access to it, depending upon what the lawyer needs for the petition.”

I’m unsure how I feel about the cops having Coyote’s documents. “Do you think we can trust them with those documents? They could make the paperwork disappear if they’re susceptible to bribes.”

Toff shrugs. “Nothing we can do about it. Hopefully, when I meet with the lawyer, she’ll tell me she has everything she needs to proceed.”

We’re returning to New Orleans so Toff can meet with the lawyer who was working with Coyote and so I can help interrogate the assholes who kidnapped Annette and Olivia. Hex has kept them chilling in The Farm. I have little doubt that Abra and Dixie have softened them up. However, before we return to New Orleans, we plan to stop at the hospital to check on Coyote.

“How is he?” I ask Danny, who is sitting outside Coyote’s room.

“Still unconscious.”

“Anyone come by to see him?”

“A few people. One claimed to be your uncle. Colin spoke to him and turned him away. He wasn’t happy about it. But we followed your orders. No one but the medical staff in or out.” He nods at Colin, who hands him a cup of coffee from the cafeteria.

“Should we let your uncle in to see him?” Colin asks as he takes a sip of his coffee.

I considered allowing him access but decided against it. After all, he specifically said not to do him any favors. “No. Keep it staff only. Better that no one has access than to take any chances.”

Toff eyes me but says nothing as we go into Coyote’s room. The sight of him in the hospital bed still feels unreal.

“You don’t trust Crow?”

“Honestly, I don’t trust anyone but you and Annette. Do I think Crow attacked Coyote? No. But what if I’m wrong?”

“I don’t think you’re wrong keeping him out,” Toff admits. “Honestly, Coyote and Crow have been arguing more and more lately. I don’t know why, except that Coyote has been more secretive. Now I know why. The only thing they seem to agree upon these days is you.”

“Me?”

“Becoming chief. Both want you to claim your legacy. They spent hours discussing how to convince you.”

I shake my head. “What a waste of time. I have no intention of becoming chief.”

Toff chuckles. “Remember, you are chief.”

“Temporary,” I growl.

Toff and I spend the next half hour talking to Coyote, hoping he’ll hear us and wake up. Toff even tells him about my filling in as chief. We’re interrupted by the same doctor who operated on Coyote.

“You’re dad’s doing better. His blood pressure is normal, and the wound is healing well. He isn’t showing any signs of infection, which is good.”

“Why hasn’t he woken up yet?” Toff asks.

“He had a traumatic experience. His mind may be protecting him from facing the reality that someone tried to kill him.”

Someone he knows and likely trusted, I silently add.

The ride to New Orleans gives me time to think. Zip and I follow Toff, who is in Annette’s car. I’m excited to see Olivia again, even though we’ve only been apart for a few hours. In all my years, I’ve managed to maintain a calm presence on the outside while chaos swirls internally. However, Olivia calms the internal upheaval. I simply feel more in control when I’m with her.

At the clubhouse, we find Pirate sitting at the bar, drinking a beer. Zip ducks behind the bar and grabs three beers.

“Where is everyone?” I ask.

Pirate smirks. “Hex, Abra, and Dixie are out back. Cleo and Delphine went to look at potential restaurant sites with Nora.”

“Where’s Annette?” Toff asks.

“And Olivia?” I add, smacking Pirate on the back of the head. He knew who I was asking about. The fucker.

“Levi and Jack drove Annette and Olivia to the hospital,” Pirate supplies. “Don’t worry. They’ll make sure nothing happens to either of them. Did you see the news?”

“No, why?”

“They found the body of Olivia’s friend, Talia. I did some research and found that someone beat her death before tossing her into the river.”

“Shit. How’s Olivia holding up?”

“What do you think? She’s pissed off. Went to the hospital to find out who isn’t upset.”

I shake my head at his comment. Whoever killed the woman will know to hide their disregard. “Can you guys show Toff where Annette’s sleeping? I need to join Hex.”

Pirate nods before I leave the clubhouse and point myself toward The Farm. The Farm was once a fishing shack sitting at the bayou's edge. It had been in disrepair when Hex repurposed it into our kill shack. Trees and shrubs surround the building, shielding it from view. Even though the lagoon it sits on is well-hidden from the main waterway. Anyone floating through the bayou would pass right by the inlet without knowing it’s there. Hex tore down the wooden structure and replaced it with concrete blocks. The building is four times the size of the shack, so instead of just one room, The Farm boasts two cells, a bathroom with a shower, and a torture room.

Screams greet me when I open the door. Did I mention that The Farm is fully soundproof? Inside, I find a man hanging from a hook surrounded by Abra, Hex, and Dixie. He looks like a slab of meat in a butcher shop. The coppery smell of the blood dripping onto the floor adds to the ambiance. I assume the other two are either dead or back in the cells.

“You guys started without me?” I ask, just before Abra lands a punch to the guy’s kidney.

“Just softening him up. Don’t want you to have to waste time before getting your answers.” Abra grabs the guy’s hair and jerks his head so he’s looking at me. One eye is bloodshot and sporting a bruise that will last longer than he will. “See, that guy? He’s the chief of the tribe you’ve been hassling. Oh, and one of the women you kidnapped? Yeah, she belongs to him. If you’re smart, and I’ve got fifty bucks that says you aren’t, you’ll answer every question he has before he takes out his knife and scalps you.”

I smirk at Abra’s speech. I’ve never considered scalping as a way to get info out of someone, but the look of terror in the bastard’s eyes has me considering it. With the option in mind, I open the cupboard where Abra keeps his sharp instruments. Selecting an 8” knife with a bone handle, I move in front of him so he can see it. The blood drains from his face, making his bruises and cuts stand out more.

“Get that the fuck away from me,” he whines as he tries to shake off Abra’s hold.

“Let’s start with something easy. Why the fuck did you assholes kidnap the women?”

I wave at Abra to release the guy’s hair. He does so I can gather it in my fist. Placing the sharp edge of the blade against his skull, I press hard enough to create a line of blood that drips into his eyes. He screams and pisses himself.

“We were paid to grab them.”

“Who fucking paid you?” I demand, digging the knife deeper.

“Someone from your tribe. He wanted us to create a diversion by kidnapping that guy you were with, but Wyatt wanted us to take the women. He had a buyer for them.”

“Who’s the buyer?” Hex demands.

“Don’t know. Wyatt handles all that. He said they tried to grab the nurse once already, but she escaped.”

So, whoever this Wyatt guy is, he’s involved with the kidnappers.

“Where the fuck do we find Wyatt?” Hex demands.

“I don’t know. He’s working in New Orleans and moves around. Our job is to hassle the tribe.”

“Why?” I ask.

“It’s part of a plan. We’re here to run the fucking filth out of our country. We’re taking it back from the colored and reclaiming our birthright.”

I snort. “My people were here before the white man came, asshole. Maybe we should be the ones cleaning the filth out. Let’s start with the racist idiots like you.”

“Fuck you!”

“No, fuck you,” I say, slicing off a sliver of skin, complete with hair, and shoving it in his face as he screams. “Now, unless you want me to remove the rest of your scalp, you’ll tell me everything.”