Dead-Eye Angels MC (Book #1)

⍲On The Bayou⍲

Nate's POV

The next morning, I use the tracking app to check on Mary's location. The little piece of the necklace wasn't cheap. Inside it has a GPS location that lets me know the exact location, courtesy of the ATF. It pays to have friends in high places.

The app points that Mary or the necklace is near a body of water. I hop into my inconspicuous, broken-down truck and drive to the location. After several turns and an almost near-miss with a damn gator, the app takes me to the Bayou. Louisiana's most poor and marginalized communities convene to get high and see clients. To not draw attention, I park the car half a mile away from the main shacks. I don't want to stick out like a sore thumb in this dump.

Climbing on the roof a hit, I catch sight of Mary with a dirty apron at the entrance of the Golden Claw compound. A young child grabs at her clothes, and she swats them away like she's beneath her. I knew she was a gold digger cunt. Just then, a phone call comes through my burner phone, and I spot Mary angling her phone to her ear.

"No way is this bitch calling me now." Pressing the ignore button countless times, I opt to turn off the phone. From my vantage point, Mary stomps her foot like a child throwing a tantrum. It's funny watching her squirm in despair. I'm definitely not into desperate, clingy women, especially whores. I've got Stacey, don't need another one.

Inspecting every corner of the warehouse, I spot a few vulnerable points. Two burly men dragging, woman by her hair grab my attention. It's Tammy. From the looks of it, she's cursing them out, including their dead grandmother. One of them must have stung because one of the men slaps the shit out of Tammy, stopping her on the spot. Sometimes my mother deserves it, but it still makes my body boil when a man lays a hand on a defenseless woman.

My grandpa taught me that you should put a woman in her place without laying a hand on her. However, some women, like Tammy, make it difficult to stick to that virtue. Nevertheless, I can't go down shooting like I'm in the Wild Wests. That's a sure way of getting six feet under.

"Guess I have to come at a later time, sorry, mom."

***

After cashing in several favors I finally, got a hold on someone who can help me get into the Golden Claw's compound.

"You sure this is how you wanna play this, Nate?" Billy Bob, a swamp tour guide, warns me.

"The last thing they're gonna expect is an attack from the water. Who in their right mind would jump in a swamp chock full with alligators and snakes?"

"If you say so. If I were you, I would leave your mom behind. She knew what she was getting into when she stiffed those Dinks." Billy Bob stops the airboat several yards away from the dock. Leaving me only with a knife, a silencer, and a magazine.

"Trust me. I want to, but Tammy is my mother. Grandpa would be rolling in his grave if I didn't help her. Soon enough, this will all be behind me, and I can get home." A smile spreads over my face when an image of a muddied Shanice crosses my mind.

Even though it's dark, the old man still can see it. "Who's got you smiling like a damn monkey scratching its butt?"

"Nothing, I just wanna get outta here and forget about this mess." I shake his hand and stand up. "Time to get this shit over with." I jump in the murky swamp water and swim to the deteriorated wooden dock without a second thought.

The place is in bad shape; wooden barrels and tons of fish crates decorate the area. But not only that, but Golden Claw members patrolling with AK-47s also add to the depressive decor.

At the dock's entrance, two members have a heavy discussion about God knows what until one of them gets pissed and walks away. He gives me the perfect opportunity to sneak behind his buddy and slit his throat with my hunter knife, and put his body in one of the empty barrels.