by Jackson Kane
“Faggy Greek shit? Nah. I’m more of a Hustler man.” Lorenzo slicked his greasy, black hair back with a comb he kept in his breast pocket and shot me a sly smile. “But I read it for the articles.”
“You got here faster than I thought you would.”
“I’m not one to turn down some ass on tap.” Lorenzo swung around, no doubt searching for Star, assuming that she actually was one of the strippers. He quickly settled with the sights and smells of all the strippers that walked by instead. “As last meals go, though, you knocked it out of the fucking park.”
“Been a busy day for you, Lo. How’re the boys? Friend of mine ran into Rocks earlier.” I watched his smugness wither as I lit up my cigarette.
“That was quite the little stunt you pulled. Calling the cops on us.”
I smirked, wondering if he thought the Lobos being there was just a coincidence. For all his ruthless tenacity, Lorenzo only ever thought in straight lines. He was a lead pipe, slow and heavy.
I was a razorblade.
“I got a guy on the scanners this time. The cops so much as sneeze in this direction, my guys outside come in blasting. By the time the pigs get here, you’ll be dead and we’ll be nothing but taillights.”
“You still got guys? Looked like the cops and the Lobos were chewing you up when I left. Why even bother coming in? Restraint ain’t exactly your strong suit.” Purposely, I exhaled smoke in his face. Lorenzo was a smooth talker but angered easily. With his buttons pushed, he became careless.
“Call it professional courtesy.” He smiled though a growl and lit the cigarette I gave him. “We carved those wetback pussies up. Cops put up a fight, but we were ghosts before SWAT showed up.”
“Here’s your beers. You want me to add them to your tab?” the busty, blonde bartender asked me while slapping two frosted mugs down.
“My friend here’s got these.” I cocked my head over to Lorenzo before taking a big sip.
He soured and regarded me for a moment before reaching for his wallet.
“You want me to start a tab, hun?” she asked.
“No, thanks, doll. We won’t be staying long.” He strained a smile and handed her a fifty. She began to count out the change. “Keep it, but just make sure we’re not bothered again, huh, sweet cheeks?”
She winked at him and left.
“Gotta say, I’m surprised you called me. Never pegged the great Poet for a last-minute dealmaker.” He took a deep pull off the smoke I gave him and ashed it in my beer. “You know how we handle beggars and criers.”
“I know how worthless, garbage fucks like you handle them.” I took another hearty gulp despite the ash, all the while not breaking eye contact.
“Ya know, I never liked you.” Lorenzo leaned back to look me over fully. “You always had this way about you like your shit don’t stink. You always thought you were better than the rest of us.”
“Not everyone, Lo, just you. I am better than you.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “And the real reason you don’t like me is because you know it’s true.”
“Poet, the golden son. Not anymore, you self-righteous piece of shit. When Deadeye gave the go-ahead on you, I couldn’t jump on my bike fast enough. No homo—” He held out his hand that quivered with ecstasy. “—but I couldn’t stop thinking about you. The thought of you bloody, pleading for mercy…”
“You know why Deadeye always liked me better than you?”
Lorenzo’s eyes narrowed, but he kept quiet.
“Because I didn’t get off on the violence even though it was one of many resources at my disposal. You’re just a rabid dog that gets let off his leash occasionally. That’s why you’ll never make it onto the board or have your own chapter. I fought to have Deadeye let you rot in jail after what you did to the Hernandez family. Hell, I’d’ve killed you myself if they’d let me. You’re a stupid pet that only knows one trick.”
“Stupid or not, I found you.” He perked up into a smile at the mention of the Hernandez’s and raised his glass as if to toast. “And I will hear you grovel before I take you back to Deadeye in pieces. Count on that.”
I smiled, clinking his glass. “No, you stupid fuck. I brought you here. Did you forget where you are?” Laughter now poured out of me as I spotted Gino stepping out of his office. “I was biding my time.”
Lorenzo was taken aback at my outburst. Suspicious, his eyes shifted to scan the room, and the gears in his head ground together to figure out if he had missed anything or if I was just bluffing.
The strip club owner spoke to the house mom, then made his way to the bar to meet an old friend.
“Oh, fuck!” Gino mirrored Lorenzo’s spontaneous utterance as they recognized each other. Then he immediately retreated back into his office.
“Bones gave management of Teasers over to Gino Ramirez four months ago. He renamed it Mama Loca.” I brought the gun out and rammed the barrel into Lorenzo’s crotch before he could get up and warn his guys. “Now, if I remember correctly, didn’t you botch a hit on Gino last year?”
Lorenzo’s glare at me turned from cold to arctic.
“A discrete assassination gone wrong. The Lobos president’s cousin not only survived, but ID’d you?” I shook my head and exhaled disappointedly. “Can’t imagine that’s made you too popular around here. Gino is probably calling his cousin, Bones, right now. This being the heart of Lobos’ turf and all, I’d put them out at about five, maybe ten, minutes away, max. And with you and the crew unarmed, it doesn’t look good for you, Lo.”
I looked for Star. She had her top off and was swatting greasy biker hands off her perky tits. Again, I had to remind myself that she asked to do this. I knew she wasn’t enjoying it, but she did what was necessary. As beautiful as Star was, those men wouldn’t be distracted long. I hated leaving her there with them, but I didn’t have a choice.
I forced down the jealous rage that threatened to hurdle me across the room and slaughter the fuckers for touching her and went to back to work.
Trust that she’ll be all right, I reminded myself. Follow the plan.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Remy
I roughly steered Lorenzo behind the bar then into and through the kitchen.
The underpaid cooks saw the gun and calmly got the hell out of our way. Considering the history of this establishment, they were probably used to seeing the Lobos have free reign of the place.
“What’s the plan here, Poet? You gonna kill me? You know Deadeye’ll just send more,” Lorenzo reminded me as we pushed through the back door.
I did a quick check for snipers. If there were any, he had them watching the wrong door. Or maybe his team was more cut to pieces than he let on. Either way, the back lot was clear.
“I don’t know if you know this, but Deadeye and I go way back,” Lorenzo continued. “We were in the same chapter back in the day. Hell, we even hunted Teach together. Deadeye listens to me. I can stop all this! The only guy to actually see who killed Rio was your buddy, Tee, and he’s kept his mouth shut about the whole thing. You let me call Deadeye, and I’ll say it was the girl who did it. We ice a hooker that looks like her, and you’re both free and clear. Everybody wins.”
“What were you saying about dealmakers, Lo? Pop the fucking trunk.” I parked us close when we got here because I figured time would be of the essence if we even made it this far.
“Don’t be stupid, Remy. We got our differences, but we’re both Steel Veins! That means something! Can you really do this to a brother?”
“My brother is buried in a field behind a bar because the Veins lost their way,” I hissed at him. “The Steel Veins were great once. We had a fucking purpose! We protected our community, not terrorized them. There was honor in what we did back before we let cancer like you and Rio into the ranks. Now we’re just greedy thugs. There was a time when we would have known better than to loan money to a compulsive gambler like Star’s uncle. There was no reason for us to have been there that night.”
“Yeah?�
�� Lorenzo incredulously asked. “And what the fuck do you think you can do about it, huh? Guys like me are everywhere in the Veins. It’s our club now!”
“No! Guys like you are weeds.” I spat the words through gritted teeth. “I’m going to tear every fucking one of you out.”
Rides roared in the distance. Those Lobos were fast. I should’ve expected as much. With all the shit that’s been going down today, Bones probably already had his guys out looking for trouble.
Ready to put out fires or light some of their own.
A backfiring engine foolishly caused my head to turn and look. In that split second, Lorenzo elbowed me in the jaw. It was a good hit that made me see spots.
As much as I thought the fuck was a Neanderthal, he knew how to capitalize on an opportunity. He led a kill team for a reason.
I deserved that—my fault for getting distracted. Lorenzo reached into the trunk and grabbed the cop’s shotgun. When my vision returned, I was staring down the bad end of it.
“You were gonna throw me in a trunk with a fucking shotgun?” Lorenzo smiled. “Who’s the stupid fuck now?” He then pulled the trigger.
*Click!*
He pumped it, chambering the next round, and fired again.
Click!
Nothing.
I lunged and swatted the shotgun wide enough to pistol-whip him.
His nose broke and blood poured down his face as he stumbled backward. Lorenzo was no stranger to throwing down. Ignoring the pain, he swung the shotgun like a bat.
I wasn’t fast enough and caught it in the side, grunting loudly from the impact. My already-cracked ribs screamed in agony. My lungs were on fire. The pain was so all-encompassing, it threatened to drop me to my knees and have me projectile vomiting. One well-swung hit and I was almost out of this fight.
“Ribs are a little sore from that school bus, huh?” Lorenzo quickly picked up on my vulnerability. He wiped his broken nose with the back of his bloodied hand and stepped in with a much bigger swing. We both knew I couldn’t take another hit without a rib piercing my lung. And if that happened, that’d be the end of everything.
I narrowly ducked the massive swing. Popping back up, I drilled Lorenzo just below the chest with the butt of my pistol. There was a deadening crack, and his dull eyes went wide as he spiked in a painful burst of air. I quickly followed it with another strike in the same spot, and all the air rushed from his lungs like rats from a sinking ship. The force of the final blow toppled him into the open trunk.
“Did you really think I’d be stupid enough to give you a loaded shotgun?” I was immediately on top of him in the trunk, raining down blow after vicious blow. My aching body fought me every step of the way, but I was done making stupid decisions. When I had the upper hand in anything, I never let up, especially not with scum like him.
Lorenzo was a monster. Torture, terror, and murder were his favorite—and only—tools. What he would do to Star if given the chance.... What he’d done to so many people already…. It took incredible restraint to stop beating him when he was unconscious. If I had kept going, I would have killed him, but despite how much I wanted him dead, I needed him still breathing.
At least for now.
I straightened back up—bloody fists shaking, lungs breathing heavily, my ribs on fucking fire—and then tied Lorenzo up tight enough that if he did wake up, he wouldn’t be able to get far. After I slammed the trunk, I took a breath and reviewed what happened and what was still left to do. This whole thing was messy as hell, but the first part of the plan was a success. As soon as Star comes out we’ll regroup and—
Abrupt gunshots inside the club shattered my train of thought.
Star!
My adrenaline spiked as I hauled ass to the back door. The pain and fatigue were still there, but I had to push through it. I had to know she was okay. Star should’ve been out here way before any shooting happened. She was supposed to run outside when the Lobos showed up. Please let her be okay!
Just before reaching the back door, the Lobos pulled in, parking their bikes all around me with guns out and ready. They screamed at me in Spanish, but I wasn’t listening. I was counting.
Fuck the plan. I had just enough ammo. If I was lucky, I might be able to drop enough of them to duck inside before they killed me. It was a long shot, but I would get to Star.
I had to.
Never hesitate.
Just as I raised my gun to give them hell, the back door burst open, revealing Star with one of the Lobos painfully restraining her with a fistful of her hair as he shoved her outside. “Stop!” he yelled, then in Spanish, he told the rest of the bikers that Ginger said Star had come in with a man who was talking with Lorenzo. Turning back to me, he told me to drop the gun.
Star struggled but appeared unhurt. I swallowed the rock of anxiety lodged in my throat and inhaled some heavy breaths of relief. I dropped my gun as commanded. It wasn’t going to help us now anyway.
It dawned on me fully how much I cared for this girl. Everything was second to her. When I thought she was in trouble, getting to her was the only thing that mattered. I was willing to take on a firing squad just to get in that door.
Just to get to Star.
It had been so long since I was willing to die for someone.
“Who the fuck are you, asshole? And where’s Lorenzo?” One of the bikers switched to English, figuring we didn’t know Spanish.
I stood my ground as I zeroed my eyes on the speaker. “My name is Remy Daniels. I’m on the run from the Steel Veins. Take us to Bones; I have something he wants.”
Chapter Thirty
Remy
The yellow and red brick building loomed before us like a military base rather than an MC clubhouse. High walls, razor wire fencing, and a gate. Separate attached garage bays. The Lobos weren’t fucking around.
The Beaner Hotel, what the Veins called it, wasn’t always this fortified. They had been raided by the Feds five years ago. Since then, they’d beefed up the clubhouse, number of members, drug and gun running, public presence, everything. I’d seen pictures, of course, but seeing it in person was always different. Our clubhouse was a hell of a lot more inviting than this. At least, we didn’t have bars over the windows.
They were becoming a real threat to not only us, but the Angels too. How would I know? I didn’t just bury my head in books. I also stayed current with all the US clubs and their support clubs, especially the hostile ones. I knew the names of each club’s board members along with their various criminal histories.
I was as ready for this meeting as I possibly could be.
There was an incredible amount of bad blood between our MCs. The next part of the plan was going to be much harder than evading the kill team and kidnapping Lorenzo.
A few Lobos had to leave their bikes at Mama Loca to drive us over. They didn’t have any other passenger vehicles available, so they had to take ours. I was placed in the front seat and Star in the back. I strategically left out the fact that Lorenzo was unconscious in the trunk and that it was a stolen cop car they now had in their parking lot.
Might be able to use that little detail later if shit went tits up.
The front entrance had a giant, yellow wolf head with bloodred eyes painted on it. The doors in the wolf’s grinning mouth were jerked open, and we were led inside. With the smoke and noise that cascaded out to meet us, it was easy to imagine we’d been eaten by a great beast.
In a lot of ways, we had been.
Just inside was the bar, booths, pool tables, and a small army of Lobos. When Star walked in, wearing her short skirt and top of her stripper outfit, there was an explosion of catcalls and wolf whistling. The worst ones were in Spanish.
Rage bristled every hair on my body. Given half a chance, I’d grind them all into so much steaming meat.
Cut off their feet and see how well they stand. Bren’s words forced me back into control. There would be a time for reckoning, but this wasn’t it.
All noise fled fr
om the room like air escaping from an opened crypt when I vigilantly followed a few steps behind her. I deliberately locked eyes with every motherfucker in there before continuing on. My seething anger was palpable and oppressive while our heavy footfalls were a funeral march. But whose funeral it was hadn’t been decided yet.
Star glanced back at me, deep lines of concern wrinkling her soft, beautiful face.
I forced down the tide churning inside me to flash her a small, encouraging smile. Her tenseness lightened a bit which, in turn, allowed me to calm and focus on our situation. I had no idea how all this was going to shake out, but I made myself a promise. Whatever happened, come hell or high water, when this was all over, Star would be walking out those fucking doors alive.
In the next room was a large, flat-screen TV that was turned off. I slowed to a stop at a familiar black reflection of myself. It passively watched me through the darkened glass. I thought I’d killed that version of me in that Super 8 hotel room, but seeing the situation I’d put Star in now, it would cost me much more than a few ragged cuts on my knuckles and forearms to destroy that vast emptiness inside me. But until I did, this doppelgänger would tread along beside me everywhere I went.
From behind, I was shoved forward to catch up with the rest of the group. Shaking my head, I knew it was only my reflection, but I couldn’t help wondering what those hollow, gray eyes saw when they looked at me. It was only since meeting Star that I was developing these lofty dreams and hopes of things getting better.
Had I been a fool?
She shouldn’t be here at all. I was to supposed to have dropped her off at a motel before driving Lorenzo here alone. But when the fuck has anything gone exactly as planned? What the fuck was I thinking, allowing her to stay? I should have found another way to get Lorenzo here that didn’t put her in this much danger.
I selfishly didn’t want her to leave, and now she might pay the price for that.
They escorted us past several rooms—the kitchen, the hallway to the lodgings, a door to the basement I assumed. The few times I’ve been in situations like this, paying close attention to every detail was the only way I made it out alive. Seeing Star roughly shoved around in front of me was incredibly distracting, but for her sake, I had to put her out of my mind while I figured it all out. I didn’t have the luxury of wallowing over my past mistakes. I needed to focus.