by Lilly Atlas
Viper attributed the changes in Sarge to frustrations over having to prospect a second time, and Cassie agreed, in part. The day the two men had found out about prospecting had seemed to be the catalyst for the change in demeanor, but she thought it was more. Sarge didn’t do well taking orders. He preferred to dish them out. In fact, rumor had it he left the army on less than honorable terms for that very reason.
Sarge wanted a clean and easy path to a high-ranking position in the club but the road was long, slow, and winding. Re-prospecting had prolonged his goals. Patience was a virtue the man didn’t possess.
“Just thinking about my weekend away with Viper,” she said, baring her teeth. “It’s gonna be sweet.” Sometimes their verbal sparring matches were fun. She’d probably feel that way all the time if his egging her on wasn’t constant.
He snorted. “Keep telling yourself that, princess.”
Ugh, the princess thing?
That had to freakin’ go.
“Thanks, darlin’,” he drawled to Cindy. “Don’t forget to keep ’em coming.”
“You got it, handsome.” With a wink and a sway of her hips, Cindy was off to the next table, half-full tray balancing as though it weighed nothing more than if it were empty.
Sarge cocked his head and leaned so far sideways, he nearly fell out of the booth. “Now that is an ass.”
“Takes one to know one,” Cassie muttered then bit her lower lip.
Shit, that had popped out without thought. Though it was quite on point.
Beside her, Viper snorted then burst out laughing. “She’s got you there, brother.” He stretched his arm across the booth until his hand cupped her bare shoulder.
“You know what, fuck you,” Sarge said to Viper. Then he looked to her and flipped her the bird. “And fuck you. Maybe if you had an ass like her you wouldn’t have been a virgin until Viper took pity on you and fucked you. Though I suppose you wouldn’t have been a virgin for long even if we hadn’t been there, huh?”
Cassie sucked in a breath.
“What the fuck, Sarge?” Viper said. His arm disappeared from her shoulder as he leaned forward and slammed his drink on the table. Liquid sloshed over the top of the glass. “Too far, brother. Back the fuck off.”
Or I’ll make you…
The words weren’t spoken, but the intention was clear as Viper vibrated with tension.
“Fuck.” Sarge broke the staring match first, shifting his gaze to the side as he ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry, Cas. Didn’t mean that shit. It was over the line…” He shrugged.
She caught Viper’s worried glance and gave what she hoped was a reassuring smile. Neither he nor Sarge could have known the man played right into her fears. “No worries. I started it.”
“Nah, what you said was funny. I’m just being a shit.” He shoved down the length of the booth then stood. I’m gonna take a leak. Get me another whiskey?”
Viper nodded.
So did Sarge, then he strode away from the table.
The second he was out of earshot, Cassie whispered, “Viper what the hell is going on?”
He sipped his whiskey, slung his arm across his shoulders again, and shook his head, looking casual as could be. “Not sure. But this is one of Vito’s bars. Pretty sure the bartender our waitress is dating is Marco, his number two.”
Her head spun as the implications of his words began to process. After flicking a glance toward the bar she spoke in Viper’s ear. “Vito, as in the mafia arms dealer the club would love to work with but who won’t give you the time of day?” To anyone looking on, it would appear that they were just having a personal chat.
“That’s the one.” Viper’s posture remained relaxed. “Vito’s all but told the club to fuck off. He’s getting pissed that Cutter keeps pushing to do business with him and last I heard he threatened to fuck with us if we didn’t back off. Not sure what message Cutter is passing along, or why he’s going about it this way.”
“Would Cutter send two prospects alone for something that could go bad?” She bit her lower lip. “What if Sarge is lying?”
Finally, Viper faced her, and the worry was plain on his face. “I don’t have a clue. Maybe you should tell him you’re not feeling well. See if you can either get him to leave with us or you can get a cab back to Townsend.”
She shook her head before he’d even finished the sentence. “No way. I’m not leaving you here. Come with me.”
He sighed and she knew what his answer would be. “Babe, I can’t just leave him without any kind of backup. I know it’ll cost a mint, but just get a cab home.” He toyed with her long ponytail where it hung down her back.
As annoying as Sarge had become, Viper was right. He couldn’t and wouldn’t ever leave a brother hanging. That core of loyalty was one of the characteristics that drew her to him. And made her wonder at times if he truly loved her or if he stayed with her out of responsibility since he’d not only saved her but brought her to Tennessee.
“Yeah, you’re right. But you’re crazy if you think I’m leaving here without you. All I’ll do at home is sit on the couch and freak the fuck out.”
Viper snickered and kissed her temple. “You gonna throwdown if shit goes south, baby?”
With a snort Cassie nodded. “Damn straight I am.”
Another warm press of his lips to her temple had her smiling. This time he lingered then moved those lips to her ear. “Love the fuck outta you, Cas. You were perfectly made just for me.”
Then he went and did something romantic like that, making her heart melt into a gooey puddle in her chest.
The man really did love her.
A mischievous thought had her smiling. “You know, when we get home tonight, let’s…wait a second.” She straightened.
Where the hell was Sarge?
Cassie looked around.
“Don’t leave me hanging,” Viper said, nuzzling her neck. “Finish that thought, babe.”
She batted him away. “Viper, stop.”
“Hey—”
She’d have laughed at the affronted tone any other time. This was too serious for laughter. “How long has Sarge been gone?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged and tried to snuggle in again. “Close to ten minutes? Why?” Then his eyes widened and he jerked back. “Oh, fuck me.”
“He couldn’t be, right?” She grabbed, Viper’s arm, giving a little shake as her gaze moved to the door of the men’s room. “Please tell me he has the runs or something and he isn’t in that disgusting bathroom screwing our waitress.”
A heavy sigh came from her man as he sagged against the booth. “Wish I could, baby. Wish I could.”
Cassie groaned though she wanted to gag. “Oh, gross.”
As they both stared at the men’s room door, a man in low hanging baggy jeans and a black wife beater tried to push the door open. She couldn’t make out what he was saying, but he slapped his palm on the door a few times before stomping off in a huff.
Yep, Sarge was in there banging the waitress.
“She had better wash her freakin’ hands before she comes back out here.”
“She’d better wash more than that,” Viper said with a snort.
Cassie shuddered.
A full ten minutes later, Sarge strolled out of the men’s room, running a hand through his tousled hair as Cindy slunk out behind him. She used Sarge’s body to hide her own until they’d moved close enough to the bar she could scurry behind it.
Her supposed boyfriend seemed completely oblivious. The bar had grown crowded since they’d arrived and he hopped from thirsty patron to thirsty patron. Cindy plastered a smile on her face, flirted with a customer, then picked up her next order. The woman didn’t miss a beat.
At the same moment, Sarge slipped back into the booth with a shit-eating grin on his face and a new, relaxed posture.
Man, it would feel so damn good to crack her palm across that egotistical smirk.
“You’re a fucking animal,” Viper said wi
th a disbelieving laugh as he shook his head.
Sarge shrugged, wagging his eyebrows. “Pretty sure that little lady agrees with you, brother.”
“Oh, vomit,” Cassie said. Why the hell had she made that stupid bet? Now it was time to pay the piper. With a sigh, she held out her hand. “All right. Let’s get this shit over with.” She curled her fingers. “Hand it over.”
“Babe, you don’t have to do Sarge’s dirty work for him,” Viper said, shooting a disapproving glare Sarge’s way.
Sarge shifted to pull the note from his back pocket. “Uh, she sure does. A bet is a bet. I’d have covered your runs if I lost.” He held the paper out and lowered it toward her hand. Just as she went to close her fingers around the paper, he jerked it back. “No reading it.”
“What? Come on. You said I could read it if I agreed and you won.”
“Nope. No reading.”
This was utterly ridiculous. “Whatever. I really don’t give a crap what it says. Just give it to me so I can be done with this. Wonder if that poor stupid girl knows she was nothing more than a bet.”
“Pretty sure with the way she was howling a few minutes ago, she doesn’t care one way or the other. Trust me when I tell you she got hers.” He dropped the paper in her open palm.
“Spare me the gory details, please.”
Viper stood from the booth, and she followed, sliding along the cracked vinyl. “Seriously, babe, this is a stupid bet you do not have to uphold.”
“Fuck you, V. When did you become such a pussy?” Sarge’s tone dripped with disgust.
Meanwhile, Cassie loved her man all the more for standing up for her. “It’s fine. I got this. All I’m doing is handing the man a note then walking back over here. No biggie.”
“I’ll come with you,” Viper said.
She shook her head once. “Nah, stay with Sarge.” She leaned in. “Find out what the note says.”
He cupped her face then laid a long sweet kiss on her. The sound of Sarge retching broke them apart. “I’ll be watching,” Viper said.
With a nod, Cassie was off, weaving her way through the crowd to get to the bar. As she stepped up to where the bartender stood, someone from the other end of the bar caught his attention. He darted down to take care of them, holding a finger up to her. She could just place the note down and walk back, but she wanted to give Viper a chance to talk to Sarge. So she waited, tapping the note in time with the music.
A quick peek over her shoulder showed Viper’s gaze on her, and Sarge drooling over Cindy who was once again serving drinks on the floor. Hopefully with cleaned hands.
With each passing second, Cassie’s curiosity grew until that damn note felt hot against her skin. “Screw it,” she whispered, unfolding the paper.
This biker just fucked your woman. If I’d go this far for pussy, you have no fucking idea what I’m willing to do for my club. Noon tomorrow. Bring Vito.
Cassie’s jaw dropped. From Cutter, my ass. Sarge was in so far over his head, he’d drown if Marco didn’t kill him first. Conducting unapproved club business as a prospect, making demands from men who’d made it clear they wanted nothing to do with the club, flaunting Marco’s girlfriend’s infidelity, and making Cassie deliver his inflammatory message.
With her hands clutching the open note on the bar, she peered over her shoulder and into Viper’s gaze across the room. He must have picked up on her oh shit vibes because he was out of the booth and marching in her direction before she’d blinked.
“That for me?” A rough, rumbling voice asked.
She whipped her head back around, then looked up, and up, and up. Shit, just how big was this guy? “What? Oh…uh…”
It didn’t matter what she said from there on out. Marco snatched the note from her clenched fingers with one hand while he clamped the other around her wrist.
“Wait—”
As he read Sarge’s words, his down-turned head hid his facial expression.
Until he finished and raised his head.
His murderous gaze collided with hers. Cassie swallowed hard. Her heart began a heavy thump.
Shit.
What the hell had Sarge gotten them into?
“I’m s-sorry,” she said, breath lodging in her throat.
Breathe. Remember to breathe.
“I didn’t know it said that.” The words came out in a rush. “It was…uh…” She might as well shut up. Any way she put it—the situation sucked. Even more for her than for him. “Sorry,” she said again as she stood and took one step back, tugging her wrist in his hold.
Where the hell was Viper?
She tried to turn, hoping momentum would free her wrist, only to be stopped by Marco’s giant hand grabbing the front of her shirt.
At the same time, the smacking sound of flesh striking flesh followed by a male grunt of pain reached her ears.
“Viper,” she whispered on a gasp. She jerked back, trying to break free of Marco, but the beast’s hold was like steel. He flexed his arm, yanking her forward.
Cassie’s ribs slammed against the bar. “Ahh,” she yelped.
Fuck, that hurt. She’d be sporting some serious purple bruising tomorrow. If she lived that long. As Marco continued to drag her forward, she clawed at his forearm. She managed to break some skin and elicit a hiss of pain from him, but it didn’t matter. He was too damn strong. Before she knew it, Cassie was being lifted up and hauled over the bar.
Memories of another night when she’d been taken from a bar pummeled her until she felt paralyzed with fear.
With nothing to steady herself on, she plowed face first into Marco’s face. Her nose mashed against a gawdy diamond studded cross hanging from his neck. Yeah, this guy was the picture of Christianity.
He didn’t give her time to register the pain in her nose before he was spinning her around. He grabbed her long ponytail, winding it around his fist. Her entire scalp burned to the point of tears and she reached up to release her hair. The more she tried to dislodge him, the harder he pulled until she was dancing on tiptoe and begging him to stop.
“Shut the fuck up, bitch,” he yelled over the noise in the bar. Cassie forced herself to give up fighting him and breathed through the discomfort while still balancing on the tips of her toes.
The whole bar was in a state of utter chaos. Men roared, fists flew, tables crashed, and women shrieked in the corner or shouted obscenities at whoever was closest.
In the middle of it all, Viper and Sarge traded punches with men twice their size. Marco’s lackeys, no doubt. As she dangled helpless by her hair, she had a perfect view of Viper. He threw a punch, connecting with some thug’s jaw.
Her heart hammered a stampeding rhythm. Next to him, Sarge dodged a flying fist, but missed landing one of his own.
Marco shouted orders to men in the bar, but she barely heard them. Her entire focus was on Viper. Another large man shoved through the crowd, hooking his arms under Viper’s.
“No!” She screamed, lurching forward on instinct. With a cry, she reached for her head and panted through the pain.
Viper struggled and shouted what had to be vulgar obscenities, but his words were cut off by a brutal punch to the stomach. When he doubled over, the man holding him jerked him upright just in time for him to be hit in the face. Blood poured from Viper’s nose and lip. He struck out with his feet but couldn’t make contact.
“No!” She shouted. “Stop this. You have to make this stop. Please!”
Instead of doing something, anything to end the riot, Marco just laughed above her. “Why the fuck would I do that?” he asked.
“Because the Handlers have a deal for you that you don’t want to miss out on.”
“A deal?”
“Yes.”
“Give me the basics?”
The basics?
Well, shit, time to bluff in the most important poker game of her life.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
1983 - TENNESSEE
If the three of them made it out of
this shit-fest alive, Viper would personally see to it Sarge died a painful death.
The fucking ape behind him wrenched his shoulders back until it felt like the balls of the joints would pop straight through his skin.
Another fist plowed into his stomach. He sagged forward as far as the fucker holding him would allow, coughing, and trying to let in some air. That guy might as well have been swinging a baseball bat for all the power behind his punches. Fucking goliaths, all of Vito’s guys.
Viper may be down, but he was far from out. Now that his enemies thought he couldn’t hold his own and was an easy conquest, he had a bit of an advantage. This time, as the brute swung his fist toward Viper’s face yet again, he used the thug holding him in place for leverage. With a silent prayer of thanks to all those crunches he did nightly, Viper wrenched his legs up and kicked straight out like a pissed off stallion. His heavy motorcycle boots connected with the stocky thug’s chest with a sickening crunch, propelling the man backward with a whoosh of painfully expelled air. The guy went crashing down on his ass, arms flailing like an upended bug. The moment he hit the ground he curled into a ball, clutching his side and groaning.
One down.
His buddy’s failure was enough to distract the beast behind Viper. “Shit,” he yelled, slackening his hold.
Viper dropped to a half squat, and with a roar, thrust his upper body forward. Hard. The man squealed as he flipped over Viper’s back, sailing through the air and landing in a heap on the floor. Though Sarge could probably use his help, Viper didn’t spare his brother a second. Dodging a large man hurtling in his direction, he barreled toward the bar.
Marco held Cassie by the hair. By the fucking hair. Her hands were up, grasping at the piece of shit’s wrist. She swayed, probably trying to balance on her tip toes to relieve the pressure. Her mouth twisted in a grimace as she tried to find relief. A trickle of bright red blood ran down her nose and a purple ring had already bloomed beneath her right eye.