Page 81 of Down & Dirty: Rage

Ash snagging the check looked like a viper strike. It was that quick.

She reached for her wallet. “How much is mine?”

He slid it out of her reach and made sure she couldn’t see the amounts. “Ain’t payin’. Invited you.”

“But I?—”

“Woman.” He tipped his head down and gave her a look that read:No lip. He yanked his chain wallet from his back pocket, scooped out some cash, and threw it on the table. “Ready?”

“You never gave me an answer.” At least not a direct one.

“Said I was payin’.”

“No, about…” She pulled in a breath, then frowned. “Never mind.”

He slid out of the booth, stood, and offered his hand to assist her in doing the same.

Once she was on her feet, he curled his long fingers around the back of her neck and steered her toward the exit.

“Thanks for breakfast,” she murmured as they headed out the door.

“Anythin’ for you, baby,” he murmured back.

“If only that was true,” she said under her breath.

If he heard her, he didn’t respond.

Between a full belly,the deep rumble of his straight pipes, and the vibration of his sled, Lyric’s eyes were getting heavy. Her bed was calling her name.

Her lonely bed in her parents’ house.

She swallowed a squeal when he took an unexpected sharp turn. She peeked around his broad body to see what the problem was.

Then she spotted exactly what he saw.

Four bikers riding in pairs, heading north toward Shadow Valley. In the same direction they were going.

Only, these weren’t just any bikers; all four wore Twisted Souls cuts. And one of the sleds had an empty side car attached.

The sudden turn took them on another path toward the tattoo shop. He was most likely following the theory that it was better to see your enemy before they saw you.

Ten minutes later, they were riding into the dark alley behind the shops where In the Shadows Ink was located. He pulled up next to her car and shut off his sled.

Before dismounting, she asked, “Do you think they were running drugs up to Pittsburgh?”

Even in the limited light, she could see how tense he still was. “This late at night, yeah.”

“If so, I’m surprised they’re wearing their cuts while trafficking an illegal substance.”

“Nobody said the Souls were fuckin’ smart, baby. But the cuts are for us. By wearin’ them in our territory, they’re pretty much givin’ us the finger and sayin’ they’re untouchable, remindin’ us that the mob got their fuckin’ back.”

“Do you think they purposely want to cause conflict?”

“My guess is they wanna do whatever the fuck they want in our territory. So they’re just provin’ that they can.”

But what the DAMC would do about it was the realquestion. She didn’t want to see the club get into a war with an outlaw club, or even the Mafia, but something needed to be done so the MC didn’t look weak.

If they allowed one MC to get away with it, others might try to do the same. Or even try to take over their territory.