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"We heard there was a party?"
There was a general sound of a lot of women, that collective whooping of a gaggle of exciting, tipsy ladies that Lyle recognized only too well.
All men exchanged looks. They were still a bundle of bloody, confused bodies on the floor. None of them had dared to move after they’d all fallen down on the floor. But whatever was going on out there, they had a situation to deal with in here, too.
Diesel spoke first. “Fuck Prez,” he addressed Titan. “Did you shoot him? That wasn’t part of the plan, man…”
Titan seemed to blink, as if regaining his senses. “Nah, man, it was just a graze-” he said, but his face had gone deathly pale.
Colt started trying to push everyone off him with his good arm. “If a member of my MC has been shot because of your fucking stupidity-”
“He’s right, Colt, I’m okay, it’s just a flesh wound,” Lyle agreed. It was his arm. His bicep. Yeah there was blood, but he was fine, he felt fine.
All the men exchanged looks. Titan was clearly feeling guilty, shaken by how angry he had gotten. Diesel was now looking at his hot-headed Prez in a new light, one that didn’t show respect but doubt and disappointment. Colt was prepared to kill them both with his bare hands but didn’t want to risk all-out war and his shoulder hurt too much. And Lyle was doing his best to shrug it all off. Put a brave face on it.
There were voices from outside the room.
"The ladies are here!"
"Finally! Eagle must have got his act together and put the order in before he got wrecked."
Titan recovered first and grabbed Colt and Lyle roughly by the scruff of their cuts, and hauled them up, wanting to regain control over himself and the situation. "Everyone outside! Now you get to see what a real MC party looks like, clowns! Sex, drugs and rock’n’roll.”
Colt, with his shoulder hanging jauntily off his collarbone, could only roll his eyes. MC members rushed out into the forecourt, and a load of jeering hollers, wolf whistles and shouts could be heard.
Lyle’s arm stung like hell but he could only wince as he was hauled out. Hot blood oozed down his chest.
The men of the RRMC stormed outside, where a posse of scantily clad, heavily made up women stood. Great, a load of sweetbutts and hangers-on for some sort of party. Potential for distraction and cover but also potential for a whole heap of trouble and collateral.
Lyle did a double take and yanked up a taped-up hand to wipe his eyes with disbelief.
"Fucking hell," he muttered. No, his eyes were not deceiving him.
It washisgirls.
Penny, Sophie, April and Rita. Some of the strippers, Jessie & Greta. Ash was amongst them, wearing a ridiculous suit, looking like a sleazy pimp.
"Fuck me sideways," Lyle muttered to himself as his eyes snagged on a larger girl, in the middle of them all.
Phantom.
What the fuck had he done to his boobs? The mute assassin was wearing a corset covered in Barbie-pink sequins. His pecs were pushed up, squeezed together and formed a pretty convincing cleavage. His hair had been done, so it looked like a luscious cascade of chocolate curls. He was covered in make up, all smoky eyes, a sharp eye liner flick, face clean shaven and contoured, covered in shimmer, his cheek bones looking sharper than the throwing knifes Lyle hoped to fuck Phantom had hidden away somewhere underneath all the glamour.
Lyle couldn’t tear his eyes away as Phantom stood in the middle of the gaggle of women. His resting assassin facial expression was passing for a moody duck-face pout. The pink corset was an all in one thing, a cat suit of trousers. His bubble butt looked juicy as hell. Lyle had to mentally slap himself. He stood in a pair of black heels as if he'd done it all his life. Fuck, his toes even had matching pink nail polish on them.
The girls had gone to town on this, no mistake.
Lyle flashed a glance at Colt who looked like he had also seen a ghost. So Colt wasn’t in on whatever part of the plan this was, then. ‘Cause Lyle sure as hell hadn’t known about this risky gamble.
Sophie was wearing a barely there dress of shiny gold, her whole back on display, her Bambi legs out, tottering on five inch high slut heels. April wore Daisy Duke style denim hot pants with a large slice of prime ass cheek hanging out, a sexy purple silky top on that showed off her blossoming tits and hid her blooming tummy.
Lyle's heart gripped, Penny hadn't attempted to hide hers, she basically wore a tiny bikini top, barely covering her nipples, the swell of her boobs visible above, below and all around the tiny slither of bright orange material. She had a black leather miniskirt on that she wore under her bump, so that it very obviously bulged out, proud. Vulnerable. With fake diamonds cascading down on tassels from the bikini hem onto her bulge.
Ash held her hand. Lyle caught his eye and immediately nodded a thank you. Jessie and Greta wore what they normally wore, their work uniforms. The whole posse looked like a biker’s walking wet dream of fast, easy women up for a good time. Except they weren’t. They were the strongest people Lyle knew and they were about to unleash fury of Biblical proportions on the fuckers who had attempted to threaten their family.
Lyle hoped to fuck Nix, Jared, Sully and the others were poised, ready to pounce, nearby. With the women out here, exposed, literally, he felt so vulnerable. A nakedness that he had never felt in his life. Like he held his beating heart in the palm of his hand, exposed and tender and raw.
Diesel spoke first. "Hey sexy," he said leerily, staggering forward, the copious amount of blow and booze making him clumsy. "Sit down, bitches. You here to party with us?" He waved a hand at a pine picnic bench nearby.
