The Son of the Reaper ~ Sons of Anarchy

Chapter 12

Javier

The freedom of riding hit Javier differently than most people. It wasn't a sense of freedom Javier felt, it was almost euphoric. He could turn off his brain and ride, letting instinct take control and put himself in a happy state for a short amount of time.

Javier rode beside his brother, right behind his father. The Mayan cut on his back and his pitch-black Harley giving him respect he's earned, and the enforcer patch on his chest helped. Turning to his left, Javier saw his little brother, Esai, riding with a stern look on his face, clearly unhappy with who they were on their way to meet.

Esai was only recently made a member of the club, still green to what they did, but he was enough since their father took him with when they hit SAMCRO's gun warehouse. His father, Marcus Alvarez, was the founder of the Mayans Motorcycle Club. He was a hard ass, but he showed love to Javier and Esai in other ways.

They pulled up to the park rather easily. Looking around, there were no other Nords, which meant Javier wouldn't be getting a headache that day.

The three Alvarez's stepped off their bikes and took off their helmets. Javier looked into the side mirror to see his brown skin, piercing brown eyes and slicked back hair. He was short, like his father, but he held himself like he was seven feet tall.

"Wait here." Marcus ordered Esai, which also pissed the young man off since Javier followed their father to meet the racist bastard sitting at the picnic table alone. Darby, the leader of the Nords, was a nasty piece of work. He looked like white trash, smelled like white trash, and the tattooed swastika on his chest that he openly showed just put the final nail in the white trash coffin.

"I thought we agreed to meet alone." Darby said, looking at the two of them with a look of disgust. Javier hated that they were working with the old bastard, but he didn't get much of a say.

"My son Esai." Marcus nodded over to the bikes. "And this is Javier. I don't travel far from home without family."

"Well, hombre, you've got a lot of family." Darby snarked while pulling out a cigarette before sniffing the air and looking at Javier. "A brownie that smells like the field, how different."

"A white boy with shitty insults, how unique." Javier responded, making Darby huff a bitter laugh. "What do you want?"

"How's your beef going with the Niner's?" Darby asks Marcus. "You guys making any ground stepping on that heroin monopoly?" Marcus said nothing and sat down at the table while Javier stayed where he was standing, ready to kill the racist bastard if his father gave the signal. "Eh, it sucks when the competition's got all the big guns."

"You make me drive forty minutes to shit talk me, asshole?" Marcus asks.

"No." Darby said with a smirk. "Got something you might find interesting." Darby reached down next to him and pulled out a manila package.

"Hope it's your last will and testament." Javier spoke, earning a smile from his father and an annoyed look from Darby.

"No. It's part of an A. T. F. file on the Sons." Darby told them. That gained Marcus's attention. "How'd you like to take over SAMCRO's gun business? Niners can't buy guns, can't protect their heroin. Mayans win out on two fronts, horse trade and gun running." He reached into the file and pulled out a picture of Clay Morrow, the president of the Red Wood charter in Charming. He had his arm on the shoulders of a plump, balding man in a leather jacket. Javier didn't recognize that man, but he did recognize a man in the background. "Their Irish gun supplier." Darby told them as Javier snagged the photo from the table.

"Dad, this is him." Javier pointed to the man in the background, he was large with red hair and a stupid grin on his face. "He shot me in the neck."

Marcus grabbed the photo and looked to where Javier was pointing. Javier meanwhile was rubbing the scar on the right side of his neck where the fucker shot him. "Are you sure?"