𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛, 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚎𝚢𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚋.

𝐗𝐋𝐕

The Galindo Cartel had met the club in the gun warehouse.

"Where's Jackson?" Romeo queried, observing the club.

"Prison," Alison said, walking into the warehouse. "You'll be answering and talking to me and Chibs."

"Honestly? A woman?" Luis spoke dumbfoundedly. Romeo put his hand up to quiet his man.

"I'll ignore that remark, considering I'm the only one who'll take your shit."

"Alison," Chibs whispered into her ear. "Don't do something stupid, we're down a member."

"Who's missing?" She turned to him. "Fuck, Juice," Alison ran her fingers through her hair stressfully. "Okay, well he's not my top priority at the moment."

"Ali, I don't know where he is. I tried to call him but I didn't get anything." She looked at the two men from the cartel, then back at Chibs.

"Handle this for me. I'm taking Rat and Tig." She grabbed Tig's arm and dragged him outside with Rat following like a lost puppy. "Juice is gone."

"Maybe he's on a joyride?" Rat wondered.

"No, he never does it during shit like this." She said softly. Tig put his hand on her shoulder.

"I'll go check the weed shop, your house, and cruise around the highway. You and Rat do the violent shit."

"I'll keep an eye on her." Rat told Tig. Ali laughed softly and got in her car. She tried Juice's cell again, but there was no luck.

Rat and Alison went to the clubhouse. She ran into the TM office and Rat scoured clubhouse.

She looked around in the garage for anything that might point to where Juice wandered off to. She came across a card that was on the desk in the office. The card was stamped with a buisness logo. Lincoln Potter.

"Rat!" She ran into the clubhouse.

"What'd you find?" She handed him the card. "Lincoln Potter? I thought he disappeared after Stahl?" Alison shook her head.

"Come on, we have some people to meet."

-

"Where is he, Eli?" Ali demanded.

"I don't know, Alison!" He said in a pleading voice. He didn't want to admit it, but the little girl scared her more than any of the others.

"I'll find him myself then." She snapped, running down the hallway to all the holding cells. Rat looked through some of them, too.

"Alison!" Rat yelled. She ran to him and in one of the holding cells, there were drips of blood.

"What the fuck?"

"Potter went crazy on a kid." An officer spoke.

"Define kid." Alison hissed.

"Uh, looked young. Puerto Rican. And— oh shit, you're wearing the same thing he was when he got in here."

"ATF holding," Roosevelt said, walking down the hallway. "Probably where he took him."

-

Alison and Rat arrived at the holding. When she got out of the car, she tucked a gun into the front of her jeans.

"You're gonna get yourself arrested." Rat whispered as he caught up to her.

"I don't care," she dismissed and walked into the holding. Rat followed close behind. "Lincoln Potter, where is he?" She grabbed the nearest agent.

"Uh, with someone in holding." Alison ran down the hallways, being pursued by officers and evading other agents. She peered into each cell, not stopping until she spotted Juice. Potter was sitting in a chair watching her husband, who was slowly slipping away from a gunshot wound in his midsection.