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I took a long drag and exhaled, flicking ash from my cigarette. “I’ll have to let my pops know. He’ll want to see him.”
“You know it. We’ll organize this place soon so Tinman can join us. We’ll have a big barbecue to celebrate.”
My father’s road name was Tinman, and almost everyone knew him by that name. They never called him anything else.
“Sounds good to me. My old man would love it.”
I finished the smoke and tossed it, crushing the butt with my boot. “I need some air, pres.”
He nodded. “I can see it. You get that crazy fucking look in your eyes.”
He meant it as a joke, but we both remembered how things changed during the summer when we turned thirteen.
“I’m gonna go for a ride.”
He ticked his chin toward the road. “Go, but don’t be out late. I got my ol’ lady comin’, and I want you to meet her.”
“I’ll be here,” I promised, taking a seat on my bike.
I rolled out of the lot and hooked a left, riding past the shady part of town and heading toward the Strip. The loud, flashy appeal of Las Vegas never got me hot and bothered. I’d seen naked women and porn since I was a kid. With a father in an MC, I got introduced to shit way too young, but it wasn’t any different than Maddog or most of the biker brats we knew.
At the next intersection, I hit a red light and idled, waiting for the light to turn green. Even with the high bells and bubbly sounds of slot machines, I caught something that sounded off. Maybe it was my new instincts that Lucifer mentioned.
We need to go.
Check it out.
I swerved my bike to the right and took the road, cutting off a car in my haste. The driver slammed on the brakes and screamed at me through their window, but I smiled and waved, lifting my finger to give them the bird as I hauled ass toward a parking lot. Most of the cars were owned by employees of various shops and casinos, so the paid lot had a closed gate.
The great thing about a bike? You could ride a Harley almost anywhere. Not much hindered you.
I squeezed through the opening and rode through the rows of cars, speeding up when I heard a woman scream. The kind of cry that rustled the back of my neck because it meant she was being hurt in the worst way.
A snarl curled my lip as I turned down the next row, finding the three assholes holding down a lady in scrubs. They were tearing at her clothes in broad daylight, right in the middle of the fucking afternoon. She fought them, but they were bigger and stronger. One lifted his fist and punched her in the face.
Fuck!
I slammed on the brakes, kicked down the stand, and rushed toward them. “Hey!”
I whipped my gun out of my cut, aiming for the first guy as he tried to get his hand down her pants. A bullet hit his thigh, and he howled in pain, rolling off her. The second one ran toward me while the first tore at the woman’s clothes.
They were like wild fucking animals.
My gaze slid over the cuts they wore, and I grinned. Son of a bitch.
Drake wanted a piece of him.
The guy reached me and swung his fist, but I caught it, rearing back before I jutted forward and rammed my head into his skull. There was a loud crack, and he collapsed, holding his nose. I fucking broke it.
My boot lifted, and I kicked him in the ribs. Twice.
The woman in the scrubs screamed, and I turned, catching the exposed flesh on her lower half. No!
I reached the guy so fast I wasn’t sure how it happened. He had his dick out, ready to penetrate her, when I grabbed him from behind. My hands wrapped around his skull, and I yanked, throwing him into the nearest vehicle. His body hit with a crash and busted the headlights before he fell, bending his leg at an awkward angle. I heard the bone snap as he cried out. Blood dripped from his face where the glass had sliced his skin.
None of the three would-be rapists moved as I turned to the woman. She was pushing her legs through her scrub bottoms, crying hysterically, and shaking as a sob escaped her mouth. I tried not to look at her until she was dressed, turning back to glance at her face. When I did, I froze.
Phyllis.
