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She looks back at Cassidy.
I see Cassidy purse her lips and roll her eyes. “Okay, enough with the cloak and dagger. Nick wants to date you and—”
Now even Stacey is part of this whole thing! “Well, I didn’t use the word‘date’,” and like an idiot I actually do air quotes. “I mean, there’s nothing to do out here, so it’s not like I could take her to a fancy restaurant or something.”
Stacey’s brow hits the ceiling and she fights a smile.
“The point is,” Cassidy goes on ignoring me. “You both have my blessing. Go nuts.”
Lara has a huge smile on her face, but she doesn’t say anything. In fact, she outright ignores me as well. She takes a sip of her drink and asks Stacey, “Rottweilers?”
“Uh, sure,” Stacey’s gaze darts to me, then back to Lara…and they’re both trying to hide their smiles…but you can see it in their eyes—Unbridled amusement.
Now they’re just making fun of me!
I signal Stacey for four tequilas. A shot ought to reset conversation.
“Hey!” I hear Chase’s angry voice from behind me.
We all turn and I watch him stomping up to us like a pissed off greasy hulk. “What?”
“Where the hell is Dom? I’ve been calling and calling and he’s not answering.”
I slide off my stool, go to him and pull him to a secluded corner, “They’re heading south for some business. Why?”
“Fuck,” he shrugs out of my grasp and heads for the door.
Classic Chase—never an explanation.
Chapter Eleven
Dominic
We’ve been riding hard, each of us taking turns to set the pace. We only made one stop to stretch our legs. We can take it easy on the way back, but we need to get there while everyone is still awake.
The Devil’s Horde has a similar kind of a setup to ours with their clubhouse, but they build their own bikes and choppers, so most of their home base looks like a workshop.
They’re all Latinos…and they all have to make a kill to earn their patch.
Yeah…the price of admission is murder.
That’s not how we roll in the Twisted Reapers.
Sure, most of us have had to put someone down from time to time, but it’s not a prerequisite to getting a patch.
We kill when wehaveto.
They kill because theywantto. It’s the culture they’ve forged. It all began with the guy who started the Devil’s Horde over fifty years ago.
At first you could kill anyone to make your patch, but in the last twenty years, Nico, their president, changed things. Now it can’t be civilians and it can’t be friends of the club.
We’resupposed to befriends.
These guys run their club more like the mafia than an MC.
I see the flood lights in the distance…just like us, their spot is secluded and in the middle of nowhere—so no one can bother them.
I ride up next to Bret and signal him that I’ll take point from here. He nods and salutes me to move up.
