Then she stumbled her way to the bed, lying down with a whimper and reaching over to grab Chompers, her stuffed T-Rex, hugging him tight. He was the only one who could ever bring her any sort of comfort during these migraines.
She closed her eyes and tried to wipe her mind clear. Tried to forget that she was in a strange city, far away from home.
She’d never felt more alone.
* * *
“Now that we’re all here, let’s get down to business.” Reyes gave Ink a pointed look. The other man had arrived last. As usual. And as usual, he looked completely unrepentant and unimpressed at Reyes’ reprimand.
Reyes liked to run things with an almost-military command. Kind of at odds with who they were. But at the same time, it worked. The MC was now back in a good financial position and had cut most criminal ties since Reyes had kicked the old president out and taken over.
Most. Because there were some ties that couldn’t be severed.
“What business is that?” Ink drawled. “Some of us have better places to be you know.”
“Rub it in, why don’t ya, kid,” Razor teased. “Some of us don’t have a pretty Little waiting at home for us. We got no place better to be than hanging out here with you ugly fuckers.”
Razor was a big, dark-skinned man pushing fifty. While he looked intimidating, he had a softer side.
“Actually, Betsy insisted on coming with me,” Ink replied. “She’s out in the main bar with Sunny and Jewel.”
“That sounds like a recipe for disaster,” Razor commented.
Spike agreed. There were few people he trusted and most of them were in this room. Even his other brothers in the Iron Shadows hadn’t earned his full trust. And he wouldn’t leave his Little out in the main bar.
Nope, she’d be right by his side. All the time. And if he couldn’t be with her, he’d have someone watching over her. Not that it was an issue since he had no intentions of having a woman or a Little again.
“And Royal and Baron,” Ink added.
“You brought the twins with you?” Duke asked. “Are you crazy?”
Royal and Baron were Betsy’s stepsons. They were slightly wild. Until recently they’d been stuck in some boarding school in Texas. Where they’d nearly started a revolt.
Ink shrugged. “They’ve been wanting to come here. How much trouble can they get into?”
“Uh, this is Royal and Baron,” Duke said. “They drugged Matthieu, stole his car, drove halfway across the country, then took your truck and kidnapped Betsy. First week at their new school and Baron nearly blew up the science lab while Royal got into a fight with the quarterback over a girl.”
“The asshole kid was pushing his girl around and Royal stepped in to protect her,” Ink defended. “And Baron said that the fire in the lab was an accident.”
“Baron has a near genius IQ,” Reyes pointed out.
“Yeah, well, so they’re a handful. There’re dozens of people in the bar watching them. They’ll be fine.” Ink glanced over at the door as though wishing he was on the other side of it.
“So what are we here to talk about?” Spike asked.
Everyone turned to look at him. He didn’t speak much. Didn’t see the point of wasting his breath on useless words. But he had places to be.
“Couple of things, Razor?” Reyes prompted.
Razor sighed, growing serious. “You’ve all heard of the Devil’s Sinners? They run drugs out of Seattle and Washington. They’re an off-shoot of Devil’s Kings who’re mainly in Arizona and Texas.”
They all nodded.
“They’re making moves into Montana,” Razor told them. “Their foot soldiers have been hanging out in my neighborhood. Hassling the people that live there, selling drugs to kids. Made a few threats.”
“To you?” Ink asked.
Razor shook his head. “No, but they got one of my boys on his way home. Beat him up when he refused to join the gang.”
“Motherfuckers,” Spike said. Razor hired young ex-cons and helped them get a trade under their belts. He built custom bikes from scratch. People from all over the country came to him to have bikes built or to get special order paint jobs.
“You need some muscle?” Jason asked from where he stood leaning against the back wall, arms crossed over his massive chest. There were few people as big as Jason.
“I’ll let you know if it gets that far,” Razor told him. “Just wanted to give you all a head’s up to watch for these little pricks.”
Reyes cleared his throat. “Right. The other thing I have to talk to you about . . . well, I’m gonna come right out with it.”
Spike stared at their president in interest. He wasn’t usually someone to sound so uncertain.
“We need to take out Jonathan Robins Senior.”
3
Millie looked up at the name of the bar.
Reaper’s.
“Well, that’s not ominous or anything, Mr. Fluffy,” she said to her handbag. Well, to her dog which was in her handbag. She wasn’t keen on leaving Mr. Fluffy in the motel room on his own. He might get lonely. Also, she was worried he’d bark and someone would complain to the manager.
Not that the manager ever paid attention to anything but the 24/7 porn that played on the TV behind his desk. But it would be just her luck that he’d care about Mr. Fluffy.
So she’d brought the dog with her. He fit perfectly into her bag anyway. And he was no bother. Such a quiet, sweet thing. She didn’t know what breed he was. He had a black face with a brown, fluffy body.
He was the perfect purse dog. Calm and small.
Pretending a bravado she really didn’t feel, she stepped up to the door and opened it. The noise hit her first, followed by the smell of tobacco, beer and leather.
Reminded her of home.
She walked forward, headed towards the bar that was at the back of the room. Several men wore cuts with Iron Shadows patches on them. None of them had their name on them.
That was unfortunate.
Still, how hard could it be to find a man called Spike?
She would have come last night, but it had taken her a while to recover from her migraine. Fortunately, when she’d finally been able to move without feeling like she was going to vomit, she’d found that Mr. Fluffy was pretty well toilet trained. He’d used the fliers, making clean up easy. And while he might have chewed his way through the spare pillow and a towel he’d managed to pull out of the bathroom, all-in-all she’d thought he was pretty well behaved.
Gradually, she became aware of all the noise around her stopping as people turned to stare at her.
Uh-oh.
This didn’t seem good. Despite the crowded bar, she had a small space around her. As though no one wanted to get close. Did she smell? She was certain she didn’t. Maybe she had some Danish on her face? It was probably a mistake to eat one for dinner, but they’d looked so good she’d been unable to resist.
“Hello.” A young man stepped in front of her. He was dressed in a nice button-down shirt and jeans. He smiled. “Are you lost?”
She studied him. He didn’t look old enough to be in a bar. Where were his parents?
“What makes you think she’s lost, brother?”
Another young man, his identical twin, stepped forward. He wore a ratty band t-shirt and ripped jeans and black boots.
“She’s obviously lost, Baron,” the first one said. “Look at the way she’s dressed.”
Millie had to resist the urge to stare down at herself. What was wrong with how she was dressed? Today she had a red dress that ended mid-calf. The skirt was full so when she twirled it swung around her. And she liked to twirl a lot. It was cinched in at the waist with a black belt and had a sweetheart neckline.
She’d worn a black cardigan for warmth and had black, shiny flats on her feet.
She thought she looked pretty good.
“What’s wrong with the way she’s dressed, Royal?” Baron asked with a frown.
“Does she look like a bike
r chick to you?” Royal asked.
“No, but Ma doesn’t look like a biker chick,” Baron stated.
“True,” Royal mused. “Neither does Sunny. Jewel does, though.”
This was a very strange conversation.
Both boys took a moment to study her.
“Um, hi,” she said. “I’m looking for someone. Excuse me.”
“Royal! Baron! Don’t be so rude.” A gorgeous woman with white-blonde hair, dressed in a pair of flowing black pants and a tight white top stepped up to them. She looked like she could have walked straight off the catwalk.
And they thought that Millie looked out of place in this bar?
The woman reached them and immediately Baron stepped half in front of her, blocking her.
“Baron, get out of the way,” she said with exasperated affection.
“Ink said we were in charge of looking after you,” Baron told the woman.
The woman groaned. “He said no such thing.”
“Pretty sure he did,” Royal agreed.
“We’re supposed to watch out for you,” Baron added.
The other woman rolled her eyes heavenward as though searching for patience. Then she aimed a smile at Millie. “I’m so sorry. I’m Betsy, these are my sons, Royal and Baron.”
Wow, she didn’t look old enough to be their mother. Millie wished she had her genes. And her looks. And that waistline.
“I apologize for my boys, they’re a bit overprotective.”
A bit?
Millie glanced around, her cheeks reddening as she noticed they still had an audience of rough looking bikers watching. Not one of them made a move towards them, though.
“That’s okay. I’m Millie.”
“Can I help you? Are you lost?” Two more women approached. The one who’d spoken was dressed in jeans and a bright pink hoodie with rhinestones down the arms.
“Ooh, I love your hoodie,” Millie told her. “Where did you get it?”
“Oh thanks, I bought it at Walmart and then just added rhinestones.”
“So cute. I must try that. My belt could totally use some rhinestones.”
“All right, enough,” the third woman said. Millie’s gaze landed on her then couldn’t look away. She was one of the most gorgeous, sexy women Millie had seen in her life. Long blue-black hair combined with a short denim skirt and a halter neck top that ended midriff, showcasing her small waist.
Wow.
“My goodness, you’re gorgeous.”
The woman blinked a few times and gave her a curious look. “What?”
“You’re absolutely beautiful,” Millie breathed out. She glanced around at the three woman who looked so different. From the elegant beauty of Betsy, to the second woman’s warmth, to the third woman’s edgy sexiness.
“Right, uh, who are you?” the sexy woman asked. “And where do you need to be, because it ain’t here.”
“Jewel,” the second woman said with a worried look at her friend. “She’s probably just lost.”
“This is Reaper’s bar, which is run by the Iron Shadows, yes?” Millie asked. Around them, everyone looked on. She wished they’d just go back to their conversations.
She really wasn’t that interesting.
“Uh, yes,” Betsy said, from where she was sandwiched between her sons.
Millie smiled. “Then I’m in the right place.”
“You are?” the woman in the pink hoodie asked.
“Yes. I’m looking for someone named Spike, do you know him?”
By the looks on everyone’s faces you’d have thought that she’d asked for an audience with the Pope. They ranged from shock to disbelief to glee on one of the twins’ faces. She wasn’t sure which one.
“You know Spike?” Jewel asked skeptically.
“Oh no, I don’t know him. I’ve come here to warn him. I think someone is going to try and kill him. Now, do you know where I can find him?”
4
Spike just stared at Reyes after his declaration. Along with everyone else.
“You want to take out Jonathan Robins Senior?” Ink finally spat out. “Have you gone fucking insane? He has more money and power than God.”
“And he uses that money and power to hide what a monster he is,” Reyes pointed out. “You’re the one who wanted to take the fuckers down for what they did to Betsy.”
Betsy’s husband had worked for Forrest. After his death, Forrest had taken Betsy and the boys to his home. And hadn’t let her leave. When she’d tried to escape with the twins, Forrest had sent the boys away as punishment.
“I wanted to take Forrest and his merry band of fuckers down,” Ink said in his usual way. “But why are we going after Senior? He’s no threat to us.”
“He could be if he finds out we have shit on him,” Spike said quietly, thinking it through. They’d stolen a file Forrest had on his father containing photos of him with a drug lord and a mob boss. Considering, the image he portrayed to the world was one of an upstanding citizen that wasn’t something he’d likely want leaking out. They’d used it as leverage to keep Betsy safe from Forrest.
“How would he know that?” Ink asked, but he was starting to look worried. “Forrest wouldn’t have told him.”
“Someone could have,” Reyes said.
“But we have no way of knowing that,” Duke added. “We really going to try and take on someone like Senior? It could be suicide.”
“He’s evil,” Reyes said. “He hides behind his money, but we know he’s involved with a cartel. He could be using his shipping company and warehouses to import drugs or girls or guns. Or he’s being paid to turn the other cheek. Are we going to let him get away with that?”
“We could go to the cops,” Ink said, looking doubtful even as he suggested it.
“And have him pay them off?” Reyes spat.
Ink dropped his head back. “Fuck.”
“How would we even take him on?” Duke asked. “There’s no way we could get close to him. He doesn’t even live here. And he’s bound to have plenty of security. We can’t get to him.”
“No, but the Fox could.”
They all gaped at Reyes.
“Have you lost your fucking mind?” Duke demanded, jumping to his feet.
Duke wasn’t given to outbursts. Not usually, anyway. But the Fox was a sore spot with Duke. He had a thing for Sunny, Duke’s woman. Spike didn’t think it was sexual. But the Fox was . . . different. An assassin for hire, it was clear he had few morals. Maybe he was even a psychopath, or was it sociopath? Spike didn’t know what the difference was. However, he cared about Sunny. Was protective of her. And he really enjoyed pissing Duke off.
Case in point, the pink motorcycle he’d sent Sunny for her birthday that Duke had yet to let her ride. Spike didn’t think he could hold out much longer. Not with Sunny begging him. Duke was fucking putty in her hands. One only had to look at the patch she’d sewn onto his cut that he was still wearing.
The glittery patch that had the words Property of Sunny on it and a picture of the sun.
Yeah, he couldn’t deny Sunny much.
Not that Spike blamed him. Sunny was a complete sweetheart and Duke loved her. But if she’d been Spike’s, she’d have been unable to sit for a week if she’d touched his cut.
Sometime soon, Sunny would be riding her pink motorcycle, wearing her pink riding gear that she’d covered in rhinestones.
Spike couldn’t wait.
“We’re not fucking hiring the Fox to assassinate Senior,” Duke practically hissed at Reyes. With his hands clenched into fists he leaned them on Reyes’ desk, getting right in his face. Duke was a good vice-president because he didn’t lose his head.
Right now, though, he looked like he’d happily rip Reyes’ head from his body.
Reyes looked up at him calmly. “Why not? It would be a quick way to take care of a problem and there would be zero risk to us.”
“What about how much the Fox would charge? How would we find the money for that?” Ink a
sked.
“He’d likely give us a discount,” Razor joked. “Especially if Duke invited him to Thanksgiving.”
“Fuck! This is not happening. We’re not dealing with the Fox,” Duke told them. “I already owe him for Sunny’s life. Ink owes him for Betsy’s. You don’t think that one day he’s going to want to cash in on those favors?”
Duke was likely right. Spike couldn’t see the Fox just forgiving or forgetting those debts.
“Look, none of this matters because we’re not hiring the Fox to assassinate Senior,” Duke told them. “Even if that was something I could stomach, we can’t afford his fee.”
Spike could. But he didn’t offer that tidbit. The state of his finances was something that was no one’s business. Not even his brothers. And he wasn’t sure that hiring the Fox to take out Senior was something he wanted to get behind. Not that Senior deserved to live. And if he did somehow find out what they knew about him . . .
Yeah, this was going to take some thinking about.
“We can’t go after Senior without good reason,” Duke stated firmly, ever the voice of reason. “I know he’s scum, I don’t like it anymore than the rest of you, but we have our own people to protect.”
Reyes scowled. “Fine. We’ll shelve that idea. For the moment.”
Spike knew Reyes wouldn’t give up. When he got an idea in his head, he couldn’t let it go. Hell, Spike didn’t like the idea of Senior continuing on, business as usual either. But Duke was right, it was too risky.
Reyes, for all his cold calculation, had a serious trigger when it came to women and children being abused. It made it hard for him to remain objective.
There was a knock on the door and Duke stormed over to open it. “Baron? What’s going on?”
Ink jumped to his feet. “Baron? Is Betsy all right?”
“Of course she is,” Baron stated, sounding offended. “Do you think we’d let anything happen to her?”
“Then what’s going on? Do the girls want to go home or something?” Duke asked.
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