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“Satan’s Angels are going to be a problem. Ghost told me their numbers have tripled. Made some calls and found out that chapters from Alabama, Georgia and Mississippi have descended to the area.”
“They are gearing up for a bloody takeover.”
“That’s what I’m thinking.”
“The Sons of Hell are closest. Call King and tell him it’s time to earn that marker. Then reach out to our neighboring clubs and tell them to get ready to ride. I want those sick fucks taken care of.”
“This is going to be bloody, Prez. Those Satan’s Angels won’t go quietly.”
“Nothing we haven’t dealt with before. When is Ghost expecting us?”
“He asked if we could come as soon as possible.”
Shit. That meant it was worse than he was letting on.
“Call for an emergency board meeting,” I said, getting to my feet.
Shit, this was bad timing.
I had enough crap to deal with, not including the Tessa situation. I hated leaving her and York, but I couldn’t ignore this situation. I had a club to run, and this wouldn’t be the first time I had to leave her and my son, nor would it be the last.
Walking over to my closet, I bent down and picked up a black bag I kept at the ready. Everything I would need was in there and more. Placing the bag on my desk, I started barking out orders, “Call the airport and have Eagle get the plane ready. Tell him we lift off in three hours. Then call the Bowling Green Chapter and have Razor and his crew meet us at the airport. They’re the closest. Tell him we’ll need rides and make sure they’re black. Then reach out to King and tell him I want intel by the time we land. I want to know exactly where those fuckers are hiding and how many we have to kill. If I’m leaving my woman and kid without protection, we’re taking no prisoners. Reach out to the local authorities and ask them nicely to look the other way for the next forty-eight hours. Tell them pest control is coming.”
Stripping out of my shirt, I discarded it, grabbing my solid black long-sleeve Henley. Putting it on, I reached into the bag again and grabbed my leather pants and black riding boots. Kicking off my shitkickers, I undid my jeans and slid them off. Shaking out my leathers, I stepped into them, tucked in my shirt and buttoned them up. Sitting behind my desk, I grabbed my black riding boots and put them on.
“What about Vicious? Linsey’s due any minute now.”
Standing, I reached into my bag for my black leather holster and put it on, securing it tight around my chest. “Sucks to be him. He knew the score before I branded him. He goes.”
Over the next hour, the clubhouse came alive as board members showed, each ready for war. Club brothers who milled around, talking and enjoying themselves, halted their merriment as board members arrived in all black.
It was nothing new for the club members to see us in all black.
They knew the Soulless Sinners were more than the average motorcycle club, but even I had to admit, we were a sight to see.
“Clear the club!” I roared loudly, as the patched brothers said their goodbyes, the last one closing the doors behind him.
“Silver.”
“On it, boss,” the club’s bartender rushed around the bar, locking the doors. When the security system was engaged, I turned to Silver. “Go on, girl. You’re done for the night.”
Silver rushed over, jumping into my arms, hugging me tight.
“Be safe, boss.”
Swatting her butt, I nodded, sending her on her way.
“Where are we going?” Payne asked, slamming a clip into his Glock.
“We are keeping a promise. Flight leaves in an hour. Gather your gear,” I said, checking my weapons. “Vicious?”
“Yeah.”
“You gonna be okay with this?”
“Not my club anymore, Prez.”
Nodding, I reached for my black leather jacket and donned it. “Let’s ride!”
