I run my fingers through my short hair and turn to glare at my best friend, my brother Diablo.
Diablo and I are prospecting, but we’re getting extra training and demands since we’re going to be the next Prez and VP in the MC.
“Chill, we got this,” Diablo growls, pulling out the cigarette box from the inside pocket of his Cut.
“For reals, it’s not the time to take a break motherfucker,” I hiss, lowering my eyelids.
“Fuck! You’re a fucking pain,” Diablo huffs, putting the cigarettes back into his Cut.
“Killer, what the hell! Stop fucking around, and put the damn rifle back,” I yell.
“Okay, don’t get your boxers all twisted,” Killer huffs, dropping the rifle back in the box.
“We’re done,” Romeo says, stopping next to me.
“About fucking time, let’s get this shit show on the road.”
We exit the warehouse, and I lock it up. I look around the grounds and walk over to my bike. I get on, and my cell beeps. I pull my cell out of my Cut, swiping my finger over the screen.
Halo ~ Where are you?
Demon ~ On my way.
Halo ~ Muah.
The sound of the roar of the bikes turning on makes my heart start pumping. It’s never going to get old, this feeling of being part of the MC. I turn on my bike, revving the engine, and pull on my helmet and gloves. I ride across the parking lot and onto the street. My Brothers pull out behind me in perfect formation. Yeah, we have this down, and soon we will be patched in.
I can’t fucking wait.
A half-hour later, I ride into the Satan’s Warriors Clubhouse property, riding down to the other side of the building. The parking lot is packed; it’s Friday night, and that means lots of hangarounds are here. I turn off my bike, take off my helmet, and slide off. I set the helmet on my seat, running my fingers over my short hair, looking at the garage where we hang out. Yeah, I can go into the clubhouse, but the MC brats have been hanging in the garage forever.
“Let’s go into the clubhouse and get some pussy,” Diablo hums, lifting his chin.
“Hell yes,” Killer yells.
“Let’s go,” Romeo hums, moving his head up and down.
I watch my Brothers walk into the clubhouse, ready to party. I usually go inside with them, but tonight, I want to talk to Halo.
“Demon, let’s go inside,” Diablo hums, raising his right brow and tilting his head.
“I need to talk to the Prez, so I’ll see you at the lair,” I say, moving my head from side to side.
“Fuck! I’ll get the bottle of Whiskey and beers,” Diablo hums.
We walk to the clubhouse, and I walk down the hallway to the Prez’s office. Diablo walks to the main clubhouse, where the music, shouts, and noise are blaring. I stop in front of the wooden door and knock.
“Come in,” Prez yells.
I push open the door and walk inside, closing the door.
“The run went well; the ammo is in the warehouse,” I say, standing tall and pushing my shoulders back.
“Perfect, I’m pleased that run was good, and the motherfuckers Bratva didn’t fuck us. Now get the hell out of here, and enjoy the fucking club whores,” Prez hums, leaning back into his chair, crossing his beefy arms.
“Okay.”
I walk out of the office and close the door. I walk down the hallway to get the bottle of Whiskey and beer. I know that Diablo is hitting the club whores, so I need to get the drinks to take to the lair.
