Danger replayed the footage, this time slowing it down. His eyes narrowed as the image blurred momentarily before sharpening just enough.
“No plates,” he confirmed; he wasn’t surprised.
Smoky nodded, equally unfazed. He knew no nigga was spinning on somebody while displaying plates.
Silence filled the room as Danger continued to replay the footage. He went over it at least ten times. His gut told him to be patient and keep assessing. And just as he thought, something eventually caught his eye.
“Wait. Hold up.” He leaned forward, rewinding the footage again before pausing it.
“What?” Smoky stepped closer to the monitor, trying to catch whatever he caught.
Danger smirked devilishly as he studied the Mustang. The streetlight caught the body just enough before it disappeared down the block.
Custom widebody conversion. Riveted fender flares. Vented hood. Aggressive front splitter. One-of-one work.
“I know who touched this muthafucka. It’s only one nigga in the Hills doing body work like that.”
Danger tapped the screen with the barrel of his gun; he knew because that same body shop had done work on his Hellcat. “I’ma find you, bitch ass nigga and when I do...it’s up.”
Chapter Thirteen
It was 2:45 in the morning by the time Smoky could escape the clubhouse. With Danger on one, he had to calm him down and remind him that body shops weren’t open at that hour. Instead of heading home, Smoky took a mini road trip. His bike roared through the cool air as a green sign appeared in the distance.
WELCOME TO MELROSE.
He sped past the sign without slowing down. His jaw stayed tight the entire ride, his mind all over the place. Rage. Stress. Fear. Guilt. That shit sat heavy on him tonight. A perfectly good night had gone to shit.
Smoky knew exactly who had shot up their clubhouse, yet he hadn’t uttered a word. His heart damn near dropped into his ass the second Danger noticed the custom work on the Mustang. Custom work that Smoky knew he had paid for as a gift for someone special in his life.
About twenty minutes later, he finally pulled into a neighborhood on the edge of town. Instead of parking in the driveway, he rode around back like he had done plenty of times before and killed the engine. The second he climbed off the bike, his eyes studied the backyard.
Two empty dog bowls still sat near the back steps, untouched. Titan’s old chain remained hanging loosely against the fence while Roxy’s favorite ball rested halfway in the grasswhere she left it. Smoky closed his eyes briefly and sighed deeply through his nose.
“Fuck…”
Guilt ate at him every single time he thought about that day. Crown had smoked both dogs and it wasn’t shit he could do about it. He knew why his brother had done it, but that didn’t make seeing the aftermath any easier.
With a heavy heart, Smoky removed his helmet and headed toward the back door before pulling a spare key from his pocket. When he stepped inside, he spotted Maino sitting on the couch fully dressed. Waiting. Waiting as if he knew he was coming.
The room was dark besides the television glow bouncing off the walls. Maino looked overly stressed. Bloodshot red eyes with a hood on and gloves still on his hands as if he had no plans on getting comfortable that night. But even through all that, his handsomeness couldn’t be denied. Rugged or not, he was a beautiful man. 6’0 even, rich peanut butter complexion, neat goatee and beautiful brown eyes that stayed on Smoky’s mind from the fourth time they crossed paths at that cigar lounge.
“Oh, now you wanna use your spare instead of breaking into my shit.” Maino said coldly. “Now you wanna come around? Crazy how a nigga gotta shoot up yo’ fuckin’ clubhouse just to get you back here.”
Smoky stood there clutching his helmet and biting down hard on his bottom lip. He didn’t know which way to play it. He wanted to sympathize with Maino, but he also was angry and wanted to blow a hole right in his fucking head for the treason he’d just committed. And if he was anyone else, he would have. No doubts about it.
“Have you lost yo’ muthafuckin mind?”
“Nah,” Maino replied, shaking his head.
“I found it. You got me fucked up. I’m done sitting here keeping quiet while you do whatever the fuck you wanna do. Did you forget you came into my shit and tried to fucking kill me?”
“You got yo’ rat ass cousin in the grave to thank for that. That wasn’t on me.Or did you forget?”Smoky spat, slamming his helmet down onto the table.
Maino finally grew quiet, rubbing his gloved hands together while staring toward the floor. He was pissed. Hurt. Angry as fuck with his Glock still resting on his lap.
“That may be,” he admitted lowly, knowing Boe started all this shit. “But once you found out it was me, you ain’t even try to intervene.”
Smoky kissed his teeth hard. “How the fuck you know I didn’t?”
