AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Fucking parasites,” Shades growls.
Dix looks around with a groan. “How are they so well organized? It looks like they plan to sell some of this shit.”
I nod and look around with an exhausted sigh. “Looks like it’s Nogales’ exit strategy. Sell this shit for a mint and get the hell out of Dodge before we get our hands on him.” I shake my head. “It’s at least a few hundred grand worth of product to sell, never mind whatever else is inside the boxes and safes on the other floors.”
Dix claps me on the back with a wide smile. “Good job, Joaquin. Let me call Ace and see what he says.”
“It’ll feel good to get back at these assholes,” I grunt while Dix confers with Ace on the phone.
“Ace wants us back at the clubhouse for now,” Dix offers with a shrug and a grin. “We’ll come back tonight to take care of business. For now, we eat and drink and be merry, all that shit.” His smile is wide and bright.
I nod and take one last look around, checking the other door in search of another way inside that wouldn’t require me to scamper up the building like a goddamn squirrel. “Doesn’t look like there’s any electronic surveillance of this place,” I note as I open and close the door to see if there are any alarms. “Jack fucking shit.”
“Excellent. I guess that means we can leave it as is,” Shades says, looking around the quiet interior one last time. “Just make sure we can get in later tonight when we come back to destroy this place. We don’t want anyone suspecting anything.”
I nod and shove a piece of canvas inside the lock before opening the door to wave Shades and Dix out. “Until later,” I mumble under my breath and walk over to my bike.
Dix looks at the building one last time. “We need this gone by tonight,” he says, a hint of finality in his voice.
“We’ll do it,” I say confidently, kickstarting my bike. “Don’t worry about it. We got this.”
Shades grins and turns to Dix. “Ready for the fireworks?”
Dix laughs. “Hell yeah!”
Tonight was going to be one for the books.
Chapter Five
Willow
“Another shot of tequila, please.” I’m standing at the bar, eyeing the bottles of tequila that are calling my name. But I don’t want to get fucked up and celebrate. Tonight, I just want to get fucked up because I’m sad and afraid for Maven. Her teary eyes have haunted me all damn day, and I feel useless because there’s not a goddamn thing I can do to help her.
“Here ya go, hon,” says Stella, my favorite bartender.
“Thanks.” I raise my glass and take a sip before making my way over to the empty row of dartboards. Lockdown is still in effect, and one of the things I’ve noticed is that the Reckless Souls aren’t a big fan of darts. But tipsy and in the mood to be alone, I make my way to the wall and yank the darts from the board at the end.
I should be in a good mood. I should be fucking jovial as hell, locked inside with a bunch of sexy as fuck bikers, an endless supply of food, booze, and weed. What more could a girl like me ask for?
Her best friend, for one. Shit is so fucked up right now with Maven in jail that I can’t even enjoy my dream situation. But it’s not just Maven. I haven’t heard from my friend Sandee in weeks. Something is definitely wrong there. She’s a stripper, sure, but Sandee is not a flake. She keeps in touch with people who worry about her. People like me.
I pause in my limp-wristed dart-throwing and pull out my phone to try Sandee’s number again. Maybe she’s been on a bender with some rich prick, who’s promising her the world. I doubt it but hoping for it is better than the ideas drunkenly stumbling through my mind with every passing minute.
“We’re sorry. The voicemail box you have reached is full.”
I growl and squeeze the phone with all my might, but of course, it does nothing. “Of course, it’s fucking full.” She’s been gone for weeks, and I’ve left at least twenty messages myself.
In desperate need of another shot, I shove the phone in my back pocket and make my way back to the bar. “Hey, Stella, you think I can have that bottle of Cuervo?” I lay two twenty-dollar bills on the bar. I don’t want her to think I’m taking advantage of the MC’s generosity.
Instead of the Cuervo, she hands me a bottle of silver Patron with one hand and shoved the bills back at me with the other. “Looks like you need something better than that cheap-ass Cuervo, sugar.”
“Thanks, Stella.” I shove one of the twenty dollar bills back at her for a tip. The guys make sure the girls are taken care of, but every little bit helps.
“Feel better, hon, she says kindly.”
Feel better. I would love to feel better, and I will as soon as Maven is out of jail. As soon as Sandee shows up atFor Goodness Cakeswith a new tan and a bright smile, regaling me with tales of her lost month with a tech billionaire who likes to lick her toes or some other weird shit.
When the world is right again, I will feel better.
