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I let myself drink him in for three seconds. His long hair piled up in a bun on his head, his T-shirt stretched to its limits, his grown-out beard. His gaze was down, observing the dance floor.
Three seconds.
Our gazes clashed, and I couldn’t control the snarl that marred my face. His lips ticked up into a small smile that I wanted to punch off his face.
Ten years. That’s how much time had passed since that night. I’d worked through my issues, dealt with the broken heart, but I still couldn’t control the visceral need to kick him in the nuts every time we were a hundred feet of each other.
Grabbing Adrienne, I spun us both around so my back was to Reaper and his club brothers. In an alternate universe, I would have run up and joined them, said hello, maybe even had a conversation.
But this was reality.
And in reality, they were all just a bunch of dicks.
ChapterFour
REAPER
Screams echoed in the warehouse,making me wish I’d brought earplugs.
I stared at the mid-level dealer—Drake something—slumped in the chair in front of me while I wiped his blood off my hands. I didn’t care what his name was, it didn’t matter. These waste-of-oxygen motherfuckers were a dime a dozen.
I pressed my thumb around the two-by-two square of missing skin on his chest, causing him to squeal like a pig. The missing skin would leave a hideous scar, a permanent and unmistakable warning from Redemption Motorcycle Club. The only warning the guy was going to get. We believed in second chances. That was why we marked them first. We lived by our code, no matter who we had to hand those chances out to.
Like so many others, this jizzstain had come onto our territory and tried to sell drugs barely twenty feet from our weed dispensary. We’d gone through too much red tape getting the place up and running to let Portland PD find any excuse to shut us down.
Assholes, every last one of ’em. Didn’t know when to leave well enough alone. Life would be so much simpler if they’d just get with the program—they stay out of our way, we stay out of theirs. Then they could put their considerable resources to good use, solving the actual problems facing this city. Like this little motherfucker here who thought it would be a good idea to push some hard shit on a bunch of high-school kids.
I’d spent a decade earning my title for Redemption. Head Enforcer. Had a nice ring to it, and it gave me the power to act as judge, jury, and executioner when the situation called for it. Mostly it meant dealing with people like Drake who were stupid enough to sell on our block. It wasn’t like our rules were a secret. Everyone in the Portland underground, from pimps to the fucking Mexican cartel, knew better than to sell skin or drugs within two square miles of Redemption property.
The dealer stared at me, like he was daring me to go further. And oh, I fucking wanted to. He deserved harsher punishment. I’d advocated for sending a stronger message. Wiping him off the planet, then going after his supplier. I was overruled.
My hand whipped out, quick as an adder snake, straight to the kid’s throat. His eyes bulged as I squeezed his windpipe and spoke in an even tone. “Let’s get one thing very fuckin’ clear. You get one chance at redemption. You screw up, break our rules one more time, you won’t be going back to your buddies to brag about your scars. By the time I’m done, not even your dental records will be enough for the coroner to identify you.” Pulling the kid out of his seat, I shook him by the throat. “Do you understand me?” The wannabe thug gave a small nod, and I shook him harder. “I want to hear you say it.”
“Yes. Got it,” he choked. I threw him back into the chair with such force that it toppled to the ground, and he lay at my feet, gagging.
Fucking weak-ass punk. He thought he could sell shit to kids that would get them hooked for life, but he couldn’t take the beating that came with it.
As I walked out of the warehouse, my eyes struggled to adjust to the sunlight while my body was engulfed in the late summer heat August always seemed to bring around. It was a quiet evening, although Drake’s pain-filled cries still rang in my ears, as if I should feel guilty for the beating I’d given him. Wasn’t going to happen. I had one thing that I was guilty of, and it had followed me around like a dark cloud for the last ten years.
It took me less than ten minutes to make it from the warehouse to the clubhouse, not nearly enough time on my bike to dispel the impatience still flooding my system, but it helped some.
I beelined toward the two old men—Wolf, the president, and my dad, the VP—leaning against the bar, both holding a beer.
“It’s done. Prospects are takin’ out the trash and cleaning up the mess.” I kept my voice low, not wanting anyone to overhear us.
Wolf eyed me. “Is this an issue? Third dealer in the last few weeks.”
I mulled the question over and shrugged. “Not sure. They all seemed to think they could get away with selling on our block. Like they could make their mark by challenging us and living to tell about it. I don’t think there’s anything more to it though.”
Dad and Wolf exchanged a look, having one of their unspoken conversations that I hated. “I can make a call.” Wolf reached for his phone but stopped at the glare I sent his way.
I rose to my full height and tried to control the surge of rage that had lived in me for the last ten years and no amount of fighting could release. “Don’t need you to. I got it covered.”
Wolf quirked one eyebrow. “You sure? Seems like this is starting to get out of hand and you need some help.”
I bit back a snarl, knowing better than to give the Prez attitude in front of the brothers. “I’m good. Would be better if the club hadn’t vetoed my idea of sending a harsher message.” Unable to keep the bite out of my tone, I ground my teeth together, then continued more calmly. “I’m sending Sweety and Joker out. They know where to get intel, if there’s anything to hear.”
I was proud of myself for not snatching the beer out of his hand and smashing it over his head. He’d make a fucking phone call.I knew who he’d call without him saying it. She left for eight years, then came back and acted like she didn’t know us.
