Page 24 of Down & Dirty: Rage

“Look, get that this shit is fuckin’ crazy. But we can’t fuckin’ forget that they snagged our prez’s boy. They put our women—our fuckin’family—in the hospital. They expect to use our goddamn territory as their own. Ain’t gonna sit back and not do shit. ‘Down and dirty ’til dead.’ You assholes forget that? We ain’t ever been a club where we let shit slide ‘cause we’re pussy-ass pansies.” Rage glanced over at Zeke to see him grinding his hand against the back of his neck and wearing a grim expression.

He knew it would be difficult to convince his brothers to go after a criminal organization like the Sicilian mob, but he didn’t see any other way to go about it. Taking down the Mafia wasn’t going to be an easy task. War was always bloody and could result in some losses. They simply had to minimize the damage as much as possible.

Somehow.

But yeah, thinking about the bullshit the Warriors pulled all those years ago, and knowing this fight would be so much worse, did make his fucking asshole pucker. He’d be a fool if it didn’t.

“This is bigger than all of us,” Chill said. “Agree with goin’ after the organization fundin’ the Souls, but damn…”

“Got three fucking Shadows in our club. Got the whole damn team in our back pocket. Need to use them,” Cruz reminded them.

Chill nodded. “Could be four Shadows if Reaper wants to join us.”

“Won’t join ‘less he don’t gotta prospect,” Zeke grumbled.

It was no surprise when more grumbles could be heard around the table.

Despite being fourth generation DAMC, Rage had to prospect for a whole fucking year, just like someone off the street. Unlike Zeke, he never expected anything to be handed to him.

Did it suck? Sure as fuck did. He swore the OGs made it worse for their kids than outsiders when it came to being a club bitch. Then they laughed about it. A lot.

Why? Because all of them had to do the same. Nobody got a free ride no matter who you were. Because of that, he wasn’t sure about letting Reaper get a full set of patches without earning them. From the sound of it, nobody else was, either.

Including Zeke. And if anyone had felt entitled enough to not prospect, it would’ve been him.

“Know we talked to Vi and Reaper ‘bout pickin’ off the Souls one at a time, but maybe we should do a sit-down with all of the Shadows about changin’ our focus,” Zeke said.

Rage nodded. “Think it would be smart.”

In contrast, Cruz shook his head. “Smart would be not fucking with an organization with the capability of blowing up our shit, like our businesses.”

“Let’s not forget our women and families,” Chill added.

“No matter what we do, it’s gonna be a risk,” Wheels said. “But Rage is right. Can’t just let this shit go. Ain’t who we are.”

“Then we need to stop jawin’ about it and actually fuckin’ do somethin’,” Chaos growled. “They fucked up my sister.”

Rage’s chest immediately tightened and his teeth clenched when he thought about what the Souls had done.

Seeing Piper in that hospital bed…

Seeing Bri and Lyric with injuries…

He took a deep breath to keep his blood pressure from spiking.

Zeke rapped his knuckles on the table and turned his eyes to Rage. “All right, thinkin’ me and you should sit down with all the Shadows and let ‘em know who we wanna deal with first.”

“Need to let them assess the risk of goin’ after the Mafia, brother,” Chill warned Zeke. “If it’s too high, gotta think of another way.”

“Yeah, agree with that. They’re better at assessing threats than us, so if they say it’s fucking stupid, then it’s fucking stupid,” Cruz concluded.

Rage agreed with that, too, but he had a feeling he already knew the answer and, if he was right, they’d be back at square one.

For fuck’s sake.

For fuck’s sake,his asshole might not be itching, but his skin sure was where the touch-ups Lyric gave him a few days ago were healing.

He might not admit it out loud, but the reason he had so many tattoos was because being in her chair gave him hours at a time to spend with her.