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“Apparently, but let us get it under control, and I’ll get a complete report from the fire chief. We’ll get to the bottom of it, sir.”
I watched in horror as my hotel seemed to be eaten up by a starving monster. Everything I’d worked so hard for over the past year was going up in smoke. A heat built inside my body that rivaled the flames that greedily fed.
Minnie caught my attention when she reached my side. She held hands with Kenna. Then I saw Trigger and Brick as they scanned the crowd. Trigger locked eyes with me then chin-pointed at someone.
I drew in a deep breath as I saw the fucker. He stood next to a truck. A wild expression that resembled a grin was spread over his face as he studied the flames. Then he spotted me, and his face dropped. Everything in that moment told me he was responsible. In a split second, he disappeared into the crowd. The sound of a bike as it sped away found us, and Trigger smacked my shoulder for me to follow him.
“Back to the hotel,” I ordered Minnie and Kenna. I didn’t want them involved.
A few minutes later, we arrived at the spot where Trigger and Brick left their bikes. A familiar whistle, and Louis jumped from my bike and tugged off my helmet to toss it to me.
“Jesse called. He thought you might need her. Your bag’s ready to go too.” He threw me the keys, and I nodded my thanks at Jesse who had just appeared.
“Stay here, make sure the chief knows you’re my ears.” He nodded as I took off my jacket and dress shirt and changed into a white t-shirt. I couldn’t ride well in dress pants and designer shoes, so I made quick work of stripping down. If I was going to do this right, I couldn’t run the risk of being recognized.
“Hey,” Trigger called and pointed in the direction the shit must have gone. I grabbed my Devil’s Reach cut from the back of the bike and felt the thrill I always felt when it settled on my back. I pushed a pair of sunglasses under my helmet and fired up the bike. The roar of the engine made people jump. I kicked her into gear and blew past the chief of police. I wasted no time catching up with the others. This fucker was mine.
We split traffic and ran two reds with the knowledge the police were preoccupied with the fire. Switching the bike to fourth gear, I sped up to ride behind Trigger and Brick. Morgan and Rail popped out of nowhere and filed in on either side of me.
“If there’s blood to be had,” Morgan chuckled over the radio, “I’m not missin’ it.” I was glad he was there.
“Cooper said Niccola Capri’s in town,” Brick piped in a moment later. “Guess he came by the clubhouse then came here when he heard we were in Vegas.” Niccola and Vinni Capri were cousins to Elio Capri, who was the mafia king to most of Italy. “Word from their end is some Stripe Backs bragged about a job they got. Your name came up, so they figured it had to do with you. Not hard to figure what it was now.” I saw his bike swerve as he avoided a pile of sand on the road.
“That’s a start,” I grunted. My mind spun as we rode. The faces of anyone who might have been bold enough to burn down my hotel flashed before my eyes. The risk to the rest of the Strip was huge. I thought about then discarded a lot of people as I ran their names through my mind. They’d have too much to lose if the fire spread. A job like that would be a big risk.
“Up ahead.” Rail pointed. We gained on the guy, and he looked over his shoulder as we picked up speed.
“Where there’s one Stripe Back…” I didn’t need to say the rest. They traveled in packs, so we all knew this was a lure to take us down. With the pace Trigger set, I knew he didn’t care. No one touched what was his, and as a friend he’d feel the same way about what was mine. If either of us showed weakness or mercy, we wouldn’t be where we were today.
An eighteen-wheeler headed toward us in the distance, but still no sign of other bikers.
As we got closer to the biker, we formed a horseshoe around him. It was a scare tactic, but it also meant if anyone wanted to kill us, they’d risk him too. I pulled ahead, and Trigger allowed me to lead.
“Slow your bike or lose your head,” I shouted at him with my gun aimed at his face. I had a steady hold on my bike and was sure he couldn’t hear my words at this speed, but he’d get my meaning. We were close to seventy miles an hour and going higher. Morgan moved up and wove closer to his other side and tried to push him over to my lane as the truck came closer. The guy wavered but went right back to the center line.
The trucker started to blow his horn and began to brake. The guy on the bike looked at me then at Morgan, no doubt trying to weigh his options.
The horn got louder, and I kept my gun on him. Trigger shot a bullet over the guy’s shoulder as the horn blew again, and suddenly, he stepped on the gas and propelled his bike straight into the truck’s grill. In a blur, we flew past the truck then as a group circled back around. The brakes on the truck were all we could hear as we got off our bikes. Burnt tires and the smell of brakes forced their way into my senses.
Blood spattered the road along with bits and pieces of his body and bike. I saw part of his torso and searched for his wallet among its remains. I pulled out his ID, wiped it dry on my leg, glanced at it, then tucked it in my pocket.
Trigger and Brick were on their phones calling it in to their contacts here in Vegas. Rail lit a cigarette as he straddled his bike and admired the carnage around us.
“Hey.” I walked to the truck and circled it to check for body parts. I climbed up to pull on the handle of the trucker’s door, but it was locked. “Open the door!” The man stared straight ahead. He was in shock and probably terrified of what I’d do to him. He refused to look at me at first then seemed to zone in and began to desperately punch numbers into his phone. I pulled my gun and pointed it at him as I banged on his window. “Open or join him.”
“Okay, okay,” he stuttered and dropped his phone as he opened the door. He held his hands up.
“This is what you’re going to do.” I leaned into his cab and snapped a photo of his trucker’s ID. “Call 911, tell them you were driving, and a biker swerved into you. No one else was here.” I held up my phone to show him I had his information. “You say anything else, and I’ll come find you. Ben Anderson.”
“Yeah,” he nodded a bunch of times, “not a word.” I jumped down.
“We got company, boys.” Rail pointed back from the direction we’d come.
“They’re not here for you,” I assured the terrified man. “Make the call.”
“Lure them to Devil’s Breath?” Brick asked as he looked at Trigger. “Not a whole lot of other options.”
“Yeah.” Trigger nodded, and I jumped on my bike. We headed off toward the bar that only local bikers knew about.
