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“A parting gift from Uncle Frank,” I sighed and patted him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, kid. I got it covered.”
Dan growled low in his throat but didn’t curse my uncle out loud directly. He knew the history–it was a small town, after all–but Uncle Frank had been on the straight and narrow since my return. At least, until the bitter end.
“When it comes to that club, nobody has it covered,” he muttered darkly. The kid gripped my forearm, eyes burning with concern. “Be careful, Tess. Not everything is as it seems in Valhalla’s Pass. I really don’t want you to get mixed up with their sort. They’ll blow your world apart. And not in a good way.”
I felt my eyebrows slowly bunch into a confused frown. It sounded like the kid was talking from experience. “Do you have something you wanna tell me, Dan?”
“No, I don’t.” My soft-spoken employee looked like he’d sucked on a lemon. “But I’m serious, Tess. Whatever you gotta do to walk away from–whatever this is? You do it. Feel me? I heard the new Prez is even worse than the prick who came before. And he’ll do it all to you with a smile on his face, too.”
A tingle of fear arced through me, spurred on by his serious tone, while the clock struck the hour in solemn agreement. Then I shook off the sense of foreboding creeping over my bar and went for levity and offering up a sharp smile. “Don’t you worry about Axle Grinder. When he comes in here, swinging his dick around, I’ll introduce him to Berty. They’ll have a lovely chat.”
Dan didn’t even crack a smile at the jest–he’d seen me scare off plenty of unruly patrons with the help of Berty–and merely shuddered. His eyes were haunted and his words thick when he answered, “Guns won’t scare the likes of him, Tess. He’ll enjoy the challenge, though.” With a forlorn shake of his head, Dan pushed off from the bar beside me with a sigh. “Better get the tables cleared off before more bad company rolls in, then.”
As though on cue, the throaty hum of a group of bikes roaring up the road and pulling off into the front parking lot cut through the dim chatter. A few of the locals hunched further over their glasses, almost belligerent in their bowed defiance. However, more than a few took a last gulp and cleared out.
A strange sense of dread filled my belly.
When my cell vibrated in my pocket, I risked a quick peek, while my other hand reached with practiced ease for Berty.
Samantha: Hey babe, we’ll be there in about an hour. Sound good? I have a feeling once my boys catch sight of your heavenly rack–of liquor, you dirty thing–they won’t wanna leave anytime soon.
Shit,I thought as sweat collected on my brow.I really should have called Sam earlier. Told it to her straight.
Dan’s strange reaction to the bikers’ presence had really fucked with my chi. I wasn’t feeling quite as confident about my intended showdown with the new Prez as I had been a few minutes before.
Me: Can you make it any sooner? Trouble just rocked up and I need backup.
Samantha: What kinda trouble?
Me: Drakon Hunters.
Samantha: Don’t do anything stupid, Tess. Just hang tight. We’ll be there in twenty.
I shook my head at my friend. She must have caught hold of my jitters because they would have to be flying up the mountain to make it in twenty. Still, I felt a little better knowing she was on her way with a horde of hotties in tow. Surely, the Drakon Hunters couldn’t do too much damage to Last Chance Bar in twenty minutes, right?
The smell of rotten eggs filled the room as I looked up to meet the eyes of a weighted stare. Axle Grinder stood in the doorway of Last Chance Bar with a small smile curling his lips as he took in my defiant stance.
“Ah, you must be Tess.” The Prez of the Drakon Hunters MC took an unhurried look around, eating up the sight of my establishment with a greedy gleam in his eye which made everything it touched seem dirty. “I like what you’ve done with the place. Uncle Frank really hit the jackpot when you scurried back to help clean up his mess, didn’t he? Old man had no idea how good he had it. Am I right, boys?”
A chorus of grunts and growled agreement came up from all round the bar as one by one the motorcycle club members turned to stare at me. The same hungry gleam was mirrored in each of their eyes as that of their unsettling president. Only they weren’t looking at the bar, they were looking at me.
I swallowed down my bile and ignored every single one, keeping my gaze fixed on the ringleader and refusing to let my limbs shake with the sudden adrenaline flooding my system. The imposing biker had the grace of a man-eating lion who’d convinced everyone he was only the ringmaster of some family-friendly circus act… until he decided it was time for dinner. Then, it was clear, this man was gonna rip the once-breathless-now-terrified crowd to shreds.
When it returned to mine, Axle Grinder’s gaze was full of dark merriment as I slowly straightened in my place behind the bar, not bothering to hide the piece I’d just hauled out of its home.
“Let’s talk business, yeah?”
Not bothering with formalities, I brought up Berty–loading the shot with a well-oiled slide–and stared him down the barrel. “Yes, let’s. Our business is gonna go like this. You’re gonna fuck right off and I’m gonna let you.”
The Prez looked over to one of his goons. “You’re right, Claw. She’s a wildcat. Tell your brother to clear out and we’ll get down to brass tacks.”
“Clear out, Dan,” growled the muscle.
Claw and another goon cracked their knuckles as they rose from their table to fall in behind the advancing predator.
“No.” Dan wheezed, as though he’d been kicked in the stomach, but he quickly stepped up to my side, hands fisted again as he stared the President of the Drakon Hunters MC down. “I don’t answer to him. Or you. I’m sticking with Tess.”
“Suit yourself,” shrugged Axle. “I think tonight’s gonna make for a better party than I expected.”
