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“And you didn’t think to lead with that?” I snap, moving to the door. “Cam’s dying tonight, Magic. He can’t hurt Shiloh.”
“No shit, Sherlock,” he seethes as he strides past me and out into the parking lot.
Shaking my head, I let the door slam shut behind me and follow Magic to the group of Harleys at the far end of the lot. The neon lights of the motel sign flicker in the dark, as does the lone streetlamp illuminating our way. The place is rundown and should probably just call it quits, but it serves a purpose, I suppose.
Its only purpose is providing a bunch of bikers a place to lay their heads at night where they won’t be asked if their trip is for business or pleasure.
How do you explain to someone that we’re here to take a life so it’s both?
“What the fuck took so long?” Duck, our VP, demands when we reach the others.
Magic doesn’t respond, and I’m not about to throw him under the bus and say he wasn’t immediately forthcoming with his orders.
“Sorry,” I reply as I stuff my duffel into my saddlebag. “Was takin’ a shit.”
Magic’s eyes cut to mine, and I smirk. Yeah, fucker, I got you.
“For the love of…” Duck scowls. “No more doggie bags for you when we eat at a Mexican restaurant.”
“Can I help it that the fo—”
“Now isn’t the goddamn time to debate eating habits and dumps,” Snow snaps. “My son and nephew are in danger, and—”
“Prez, man, they’re safe,” Toga, our Sergeant at Arms, says. “They’re home and protected, and Slate’s here in Sante Fe, none the wiser about what’s coming for him.”
Snow glares at Toga, then swivels his gaze to encompass us all. “Let’s fucking ride.”
Twenty minutes later, we’re parking our Harleys on a street three blocks from Slate’s house. We’ve spent the last week obtaining as much information about the prick as we could, and Little Man, a prospect, has been tailing him, making sure he remains close to home.
“Everyone clear on the plan?” Snow asks as we make our way through the streets.
“Get in, kill him, get out,” Duck says with a shrug. “Pretty standard shit, Prez.”
“Watch it,” Snow snarls. “I’m not in the mood for your flippant bullshit.”
I roll my eyes at their exchange. Snow and Duck are best friends, have been for as long as I’ve known them. But that also means they can get under each other’s skin faster than anything.
“Let’s just get this done,” Snow says and glances over his shoulder at me. “Dip, you clear on your part in all this?”
“Crystal.”
As one of the only single members left in Satan’s Legacy left, it’s my job to distract Slate’s sister. I have to do whatever it takes to keep her from being witness to what they do to her brother. Normally, I’d flirt, even fuck the girl if necessary, but…
I shudder at the thought.
She’s hismucholder sister so it better not come to that.
If I fail at my job, she dies. We’re not about taking the lives of the innocent, especially when their only sin is sharing DNA with the guilty. Failure isn’t an option.
And not just for my cock’s sake.
When we reach the house, Snow leads the others around back, and I stroll right up to the front door to knock. It’s late, but not so late that no one will answer.
The door swings open, and Elouise Slate stands there in a faded yellow nightgown, looking every bit of her sixty years. She’s a sight, that’s for sure.
“Hello, ma’am,” I greet. “I’m sorry to bother you so late, but I’m the president of the neighborhood watch program, and I’ve received sev—”
“We have a neighborhood watch?”
