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“Who did this?” Shades asks the woman standing at the front door. He scans the first few rooms with a scowl on his face, waiting impatiently for her answer. “Well?”
“Iron Kings were here,” she says, mascara streaming down her cheeks. “Two of them, and they were young. Probably not even legal yet. They just came in, started fucking up the place, beat up a few of the customers and left. Quick.”
I don’t know all the women who work for the MC but this lady is older. I don’t recognize her.
“They didn’t say anything?”
She shakes her head, hands still trembling from the Iron Kings' visit. “Not really. Just whooping and yelling, thrilled as fuck they were messing up the place.”
I nod and get Ace on the phone, telling him what we know. “This place has cameras, right,” I ask in a whisper since there are still girls and customers all around.
“Yeah. Only the exits,” Ace confirms. “But it should be enough to identify them. And find them,” he adds, dropping his voice a no-nonsense octave. He ends the call after delivering his message, which I receive loud and clear.
Shades and I take a few minutes to go through each room to make sure everybody is safe. We can’t have some armed Kings waiting in the shadows ambush the place after we leave.
Yet after all of our surveillance, I say, “This doesn’t feel right, does it?”
Shades shakes his head. “Nope. Preacher says it’s the same at the Coconut Room. Just destruction for the sake of it.”
“You think it’s a set up so we come after them?” I fucking hope so because leaving Willow with my cock at half-mast is only worth it if I get to pound some asshole’s face into mush.
“We’ll find out soon enough,” he says.
The Gods must have been listening because less than two minutes later, Wild Man comes through with images of the guys we’re looking for. Shades and I spend most of the night hitting the streets searching for those fuckers.
By morning, we have one of them in The Chamber.
Chapter Eleven
Willow
It’s been eight fucking days since those asshole detectives carted Maven away. I feel as hopeless now as I did the first day, watching them take her, knowing there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.
Well, nothing other than drowning my sorrows in my hot pink vape filled with some delicious Gelato OG from one of the Reckless Souls dispensaries.
Without my weed and tequila, I’m not sure how I might handle all the excitement that has suddenly perked up my life. Okay, I asked for this excitement. Hell, I spent so much of my life dreaming about it, and now that it’s here, I don’t regret it, but I damn well need something to take the edge off.
Gelato OG is that something. I smile to myself and take another hit, enjoying the tingling sensation working its way through my arms and legs, finally relaxing my brain enough to stop worrying. And overthinking.
“All right if I join you?”
I’ve been around the clubhouse long enough to recognize Tank’s gruff voice. The man is as big as his name implies, and his deep voice could probably make any grown man shit himself. But something about him, maybe those soft gray eyes, makes him seem harmless to me.
I shrug and give him a friendly smile. “Sure, I’m just out here enjoying the sunshine and self-medicating,” I tell him and hold up the hot pink vape. “You too manly for a hit?”
“Nah,” he grins and accepts the little pink pen, taking a long pull before releasing a plume of smoke. “Thanks.”
“So, Tank, what’s your story?” All of these guys have stories, and I’m curious about all of them.
“Aren’t you Joaquin’s girl? Because I’m not trying to fuck a patched member’s ol’ lady.”
I laugh, but a dagger of warmth slithers through me at his assumption. “Not yet, but fingers crossed,” I assure him. “I’m not hitting on you. I’m genuinely curious.”
He stares at me for a minute as if he’s trying to figure out if I’m a shit starter or a real chick. I see his features soften, telling me he chooses to believe me. He says, “I spent some time in the Army and when I got out, I spent some time in jail. That’s how I met Dix.”
“Cool. Can I ask what you did?” My mom always says my nosiness is going to get me in trouble one day, but I prefer to think of it as curiosity.
“Nothing all that exciting. Some fucker was getting handsy with a chick who didn’t welcome his touch, and so I intervened. He fought back more than he should have, and then he barely lived to regret it.”
