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“This is not the time or place,” Reaper states. “We’re all on edge and in shitty moods from being cooped up in such close quarters for the last nine days. But we’ve got this one last meet to finish and then we’ll all go our separate ways.”
“We’re not going anywhere,” Demo barks, joining us. “We’re stuck here until Viking gets his own shit handled.”
“But they aren’t,” Reaper says, nodding at Trooper and his brothers, who are standing behind him, their bodies tense. “So, hold it together a bit longer.”
It’s not lost on me that I should be the one calming frayed nerves, easing tensions. I’m the damn president. My only excuse is that my head is so scrambled with this Makayla crap, it’s hard to focus on much else.
And excuses don’t solve anything.
“He’s right,” I say, injecting authority into my tone. “Besides, despite being of two different worlds, we’re brothers. And brothers have each other’s backs, no matter what.”
No one responds, but Trooper finally nods and relaxes his stance. Reaper lowers his arms, and Inferno takes a step back.
“Let’s get inside before the seller gets cold feet,” my human counterpart demands before turning on his heel and striding into the abandoned warehouse.
We all follow Trooper, our weapons at the ready, just in case. All of the runs and deals we’ve completed up until this point have been textbook, but we have to be prepared for anything.
When we enter the giant room of an old production floor, there are seven men standing in a line, arms at their sides, guns dangling from their hands. And that’s five men too many.
Like I said, we have to be prepared for anything.
“I was wondering if you were going to show up,” the man in the middle says in a thick accent.
“Valhalla Rising MC always shows up, Stavos,” Trooper says calmly.
“Yes, well, I would hope so. After all, we went through a lot to get thesesupplieshere.” He shifts his gaze from one man to the next until he’s taken us all in. “I take it you have the money.”
“It’s all here,” Mummy says, lifting the duffel he’s carrying.
“I’ll have to count it,” Stavos says. “You understand.”
“Of course,” Trooper agrees. “I’d expect nothing less. But first, the product. I’d like to see it.”
Stavos turns to the man on his right and nods. “Show them, Yani.”
Yani grins. “If you’ll come with me…”
He turns to walk to the back of the room where there are several crates stacked on top of each other.
“Follow him,” Trooper orders Doom, and when Doom complies, Trooper turns his attention back to Stavos. “As soon as my man verifies that you brought the good stuff, we’ll hand over the money.”
“Are you implying that I might not be holding up my end of the deal?”
Trooper tilts his head. “We’re criminals, Stavos. I have to consider every possibility. I know you understand that since you did the same by bringing more men than you originally indicated would be here.”
Stavos smirks. “Touché.”
“It looks good, Pres,” Doom calls from across the room.
“Time to pay up,” Stavos says.
“Give him the bag,” Trooper instructs Mummy.
Mummy breaks the line and strides to Stavos, unzipping the bag as he walks. When he reaches him, the man on Stavos’ left steps forward, raising his gun, and all hell breaks loose.
Gunfire erupts, and the shots ring out in the empty cavernous building. I charge forward, my ax raised above my head, and bring it down on Stavos’ head before he has a chance to pull the trigger of his own weapon.
He drops to the floor, and I grip my ax tight to release it from his skull as he falls. I don’t know how long the fighting lasts, but when it’s over and silence fills the space, Stavos and his men are dead while those of us in the VRMC are walking away, for the most part, unscathed.
