“I’ll walk you outside. Be right back, Mark.” Skittles put her arm around mine, and we went outside. “You better fucking come back. I don’t wanna ever have to explain to him why you didn’t.”

  “I want to tell you that’s not a problem, but I don’t know what we’re walking into. You got shit to do here. For starters, you need to find another dick house. Somewhere close to the pussy house would be best.” I climbed on my bike and started the engine. “You got nothing to worry about, babe. If Mark’s asleep when I get back, I expect those legs spread, knees high, and holes visible.”

  “Very romantic,” she said. “You just make sure that dick is hard and the tank is fully loaded.”

  “You got it.”

  We parked two blocks from The Rat Pack and started down a dimly lit back street. A dog came close to biting Watcher in the ass when he got too close to the dog’s fence. He barked at the dog while we all stood and watched.

  “Are you done?” I waved everyone forward, and we came up behind the bar, where three Messengers were out back smoking weed and hitting hard liquor. They could barely stand. “Three dead men,” I said. “None of them walks away.”

  I moved around the left with Slash, and the others came around on the right. I didn’t believe in hitting a man when he had his back turned, and I wasn’t about to start. I nodded at Slash, knowing he loved shit like this.

  “Assholes,” Slash said when we stepped from the shadows.

  The three men looked surprised. The one closest to the door tried to go inside, but Big Kentucky caught him before he had a hand on the door. BK hit the man so hard four teeth pinged off the door. Slash hit the second man and sent him spiraling into a dumpster. I grabbed the third guy, a man I recognized and had gone to high school with. After high school, he chose the wrong team.

  “Come on, Beast. You and I go way back.” He drew his gun, missing on the first shot. The others would be outside in seconds. “Sorry, Bart,” I said and hit him. He never got up. “Circle around and go through the front.”

  We made it around the front and entered the bar. The bartender, a man of seventy, went for his rifle.

  “Don’t do it, motherfucker.” Slash pointed his gun at the old man. “Ease your way back across the bar and have a seat. Say anything, and I spray your head against the glass.”

  “I would leave if I were you folks,” I said to the non-bikers, and they did as told. “Get to the back entrance. Shoot any man holding a gun. I’ll make sure Rip is unarmed. Leave him for me. Cinder, make sure this old douchebag stays behind the bar with his hands away from the gun he’s hiding.

  I went to the back with Slash, Big Kentucky, and Watcher.

  “I don’t give a fuck what you have to do, find the assholes who did it,” Rip told a club officer. “When they’re dead, we’ll go after their old ladies. Wear that pussy out.” He shut his mouth when I put my gun to his temple.

  “Keep walking,” I said. I didn’t worry about the others. I knew my Brothers had my back. Rip wasn’t as fortunate. “Pick a stool and sit your ass down.”

  Eight Hell’s Messengers sat on the stools at the bar. They were the ugliest bunch of assholes I’d ever seen—no wonder they had to sex traffic. That was all about to come to an end.

  I removed my kutte and laid it and my gun on a booth table at the far end of the bar. Things were about to get broken. “Leave it on or take it off,” I said to Rip, referring to his kutte. “I didn’t wanna get your blood on mine. You assholes, put your guns on the bar.” I turned to my guys. “Shoot anyone who acts stupid—a bullet in the head.”

  One Messenger did act stupid, and Slash put a bullet right between his eyes. He hit the floor with a loud thud. They were down to seven men.

  “Anybody else?” Slash asked. He wanted them all to move.

  “Seven on four,” Rip said. “Sure you want those odds?” His eyes told me he knew the odds were against him.

  “Get off the goddamn stool, Rip,” I said. He didn’t. I motioned at his club members. “Are you all pussies like your president?” I paced in front of the men like a drill sergeant waiting to rip new recruits.

  The biggest of the bikers slid from his stool. Good for him and his stupidity. He had brass knuckles around his right hand. I loved it when opponents went old school. “I ain’t no pussy and don’t give a flying fuck what they call you.”

  “Here’s your chance to prove that shit.” I moved my neck from side to side and steadied my feet. “Bring it, asshole.” I took a few steps to the left, standing close to one of the ceiling supports. The brass knuckles would hurt like a motherfucker. But if he hit something solid, they would break his fingers. “Come on, bitch. Your momma’s waiting for you.”

  He charged forward and swung with his right hand, missing, though I felt the air around my head move. He hit the column square and cried out in pain. I glanced at his hand, and there was no fucking way the brass knuckles were coming off. He surprised me with his left hand, the punch glancing off my shoulder. I didn’t want to kill the man, so I hit him in the jaw instead of on the bridge of his nose. He dropped next to the dead guy, although he still breathed.

  “Don’t get up.” I pointed at Rip. “I just want you, Rip. I’m not interested in dropping all your men.” I waved him forward, and Rip smiled when the sirens started in the distance. I had to admit he was a resourceful asshole.

  “We need to go, Beast,” Big Kentucky said. “Come on. There’ll be another time.”

  “See you soon, Marcus,” Rip said.

  “Once a pussy, always a pussy, Rip.”

  We walked out of the bar, not having completed our mission. I’d underestimated Rip’s propensity to stay alive, though I enjoyed seeing the fear in his eyes. We passed two police cars on the road as we rode away. Rip would have his dead members taken behind the bar, away from the police. He was a poor leader of men, much less an MC. It wasn’t my intent to eliminate Hell’s Messenger. Rip was another story.

  Diesel and the Prospects were already back at the club when we arrived. He opened the van’s back doors and showed us the guns. They’d all been recovered. Diesel would no doubt be voted in.

  “Bunch of pussies didn’t give us a fight,” Diesel said. “They even loaded the shit for us. Told us all about their lakehouse. Said they were running weed through one of their businesses at the lake. I told them we’d be in touch about that.”

  “They gonna do it again?” Slash asked. “Once stupid, always stupid.”

  “We have an understanding now.” Diesel closed the doors. “In fact, they owe us a favor. We’ll be helping with their weed business.”

  “Rip dead?” TexMex asked. “Put that little bitch down?”

  I shook my head. “Four of his men are. Locals showed up before I could put him down. He’s back on the street, though a few men down.”

  “He’ll look for a way to strike back,” Cinder said. “I want Prospects around the property’s perimeter. I don’t think he will wait days to do it either.”

  “I want a prospect inside the empty storefronts at both ends of the street,” I said. “They see something, they say something. Tell them to stay off their phones.”

  “We’ve got all the families underground in building two,” Watcher said. We added the underground shelter in building two while I was in Varner. If another club were going to hit us, they’d strike the main building.

  “Roll out AKs to everyone who can handle one,” I said. “I know a few old ladies can handle a gun. Make sure they’re armed.”

  14

  Skittles

  “Where’s Wendy?” I would have guessed with Watcher, but he left with Marcus and the others an hour ago. Gigi and Carmen shared one of those glances that suggested Wendy was about to get in trouble and that we were all about to get into trouble. “Don’t tell me she left the club. Why didn’t you stop her?”

  Carmen shrugged and held up her hands in frustration. “We tried to tell her it was a bad idea, but she left anyway. She had some fabulous idea she just had to explore.”

  “How’d she get past the Prospects?” Pussy could get past any Prospect if it were used correctly. Wendy knew how. “Don’t answer that. Where did she go?”

  “The whore house,” Gigi said. “She went to see that girl she danced with last weekend. Daphne, I think.”

  “Nobody was supposed to be there,” I said. “Shit! We have to get her. Hell’s Messengers will hit that place if they think anyone is inside.”

  “Have Beast and Diesel do it,” Carmen said.

  “They went to take care of a problem.” What I was about to suggest would only make things worse for everyone if it didn’t go right. “Put on something black. We’re going out.”

  There was a back way out of the club that nobody was allowed to use. The exit was hidden, and security cameras wouldn’t see us if we tried not to be seen. Mark was playing video games with another boy his age and seemed engulfed. I hated using a screen as a babysitter, but we had to find Wendy.

  “When I open the door, stay low. There’s only one camera we have to avoid.”

  I opened the door and bent over as we left the clubhouse. Carmen and Gigi followed, bending as if they were hundred-year-old women.

  “Smells like piss out here,” Carmen said. “Don’t you guys ever clean this place?”

  The alley exit led to what was often frequented by the homeless. I’d come out several times to bring people food when I saw them on the security camera. I closed the door, hoping the Prospect assigned to security wasn’t watching the screen.

  We made it past garbage, a cat eating something it recently killed, and stepped over a sleeping man. The world could send people into space for fun but couldn’t feed the weak. Bravo.

  Once we were past the security camera’s view, we relaxed but stayed close to the single-story structures in the alley. At the alley’s end, I pointed across the street where a Ford Explorer sat beneath a street light.

  I stuck my hand under the back wheel well and found the key. “The club leaves it here for emergencies. I think this counts. There’s a gun under each front seat.”

  “I’m not killing anyone,” Gigi said.

  “You may have to.” I climbed into the driver's seat and shut the door. The others climbed in, Gigi in the backseat, Carmen next to me. “We aren’t dealing with normal people here. They won’t give a damn that we are women. It just means we’ll be raped before they kill us.”

  “This is not what I came here for,” Gigi said.

  I turned in the seat. “You came down to see Diesel, didn’t you?”

  “No!” Gigi stared out the window.

  “Well, if you did, this is what life would be like with him. This is the life of an old lady. Be prepared or be dead.”

  “Then I need to be back home. Charles is expecting me.”

  “Bullshit,” Carmen said.

  “What?” I could sense something was going on.

  “His ass had a piece of pussy on the side. Every time Gigi is out of town, he’s banging her.” Carmen shifted in her seat and put on her seatbelt.

  “He said he was sorry, and I accepted his apology.” Gigi stuck her nose in the air.

  “Did you tell him you got plowed by a big ass biker?” I asked.

  “Can we go, please?” To my surprise, Gigi reached under the front seat and returned with the Glock. She placed it on the seat next to her.

  I turned around and started the Explorer. We pulled from the curb and into a silent night. I was sure most of the sheriff’s and police department’s attention was on the front of the clubs, so I left the headlights off and rolled through town. Marcus would kill me if I didn’t make it back safely.

  Pine Bluff wasn’t much of a party town, especially not late at night. We reached within a block of the whore house, and I pulled to the curb. Outside the whore house, sitting on their bikes were two Hell’s Messengers.

  “Now what,” Gigi said.

  Carmen reached under her seat and removed the second Glock. She chambered a bullet. “Let’s go kick some ass.”

  “What’s up with you?” I asked.

  “Tired of sitting behind a desk every day, looking at a computer screen that offered nothing back. I need some excitement in my life.” She opened her door. “We gonna do this?”

  “You do understand that those two men will put a bullet in a woman just as fast as they would a man,” I said.

  The door behind me opened, and Gigi got out. “Quit screwing around and come on.” She held the Glock in a shaky hand. She would shoot herself in the foot before she could shoot a Messenger.

  “Wait. Both of you.” I got out and pulled them into the shadows. “This isn’t some television show. This shit is real, and so are those two men.”

  “I have an idea,” Carmen said. “She handed over the Glock, rolled her tee shirt up to just under her boobs, and rolled down her waistband a couple of notches. She looked like a hooker, which I assumed was her plan.

  “We’ll sneak around the side while you walk down the street,” I said. “Marcus would spank me until I was raw if he saw what was happening. Gigi handed over her Glock. She then proceeded to unbutton her blouse. She reached into her blouse and removed her bra. For a brief moment, I saw her tits and understood why Diesel wanted them so badly. “You two are going to get us killed.”

  Carmen smiled, having way too much fun. “We’ll distract them, and then you pop a cap in their asses.”

  “What?” I’d made a mistake, but it was too late to fix it. Carmen and Gigi started down the street together. It wouldn’t matter if I didn’t want my best friends in the biker world. They were fucking in it with no way of turning back.

  I went around the building and headed toward the two bikers, staying in the darkness. I could still see Gigi and Carmen. They were walking like they had more issues than being hookers.

  The bikers got off their bikes and faced the two women. They were still thirty feet away from each other when Carmen and Gigi stopped. I went ahead and took up a position behind a car.

  “New street meat?” One of the bikers asked. He grabbed his crotch. “Why don’t you suck my dick? For free.”

  “I’m going to bend this cunt over my bike,” the other Messenger said. “Stick it in her asshole.”

  Carmen had too much fun and would worsen things if I let her. “I don’t think you two limp dicks have what it takes to satisfy women like us.” Carmen turned and looked back at the bikers. She glanced at me and then edged her shorts down over her ass.

  The Messengers tossed their cigarettes and started forward. I ran from behind the car and pointed both Glocks. “Stop douchebags.”

  The two men stopped and turned.

  “Who the fuck are you?” the Road Captain said. I didn’t recognize him or the Prospect he was with. “You being a woman, I doubt you have the balls to pull a trigger.”

  “Wanna try me?”

  Gigi and Carmen joined me. Gigi took one of the guns.

  “I do,” Gigi said, grabbing her crotch, which looked really badass wearing Khaki shorts. “Wanna try me?” It wasn’t working for her, and the two men laughed.

  I jumped when the gun went off. The Road Captain yelled and grabbed his knee.

  “Oh, shit!” Gigi said. She dropped the gun, and the Prospect darted forward. I had no choice. Marcus taught me to use deadly force that a bullet to the leg or arm could miss, allowing my attacker more time. I shot the prospect in the chest, and he dropped in front of me.

  The Road Captain tried to hobble away, but Carmen wouldn’t allow it. She grabbed the man by the hair and jerked him back.

  It all seemed brutal, the way we were acting. But I knew what would happen if the Messengers had the advantage. They would have had us bent over their bikes, giving it to us in a way that didn’t feel good. If they found out who I was, they would have killed us.

  “What do we do with him?” Carmen asked. “Shoot him?”

  “You’re Beast’s old lady,” he said. “Fucking cunt. You know what I’m gonna do with you? Stick my dick in your mouth and down your throat.”

  “I doubt it’s bigger than her tongue,” Carmen said and shot the man.

  The three of us stood motionless. Carmen had killed a man, and Gigi had shot another. It seemed too easy.

  “You two okay?” I asked. I knew what it was like. There’s a feeling in the pit of your stomach that you were going to hell if you believed in that sort of thing. You’d ended someone’s life and written The End after the final chapter of their book.

  “I’m okay, I think,” Carmen said. They would have killed us. She stuck the gun in her waistband and headed toward the whore house.

  “There’s no turning back from this, is there?” Gigi said. “We’re part of this.”

  “In the morning, all three of you should go home and never return. This is what life in an outlaw biker club is like. It’s kill or be killed. One day, you’ll end up on the wrong side of that equation.”

  Gigi nodded. “I know.”

  The whore house front entrance opened, and Wendy stood there with Daphne, the two barely dressed. I saw a shadow behind them, and Brainiac appeared, wearing only boxer briefs.

  “Shit, Brainiac, what’re you doing? Marcus will be pissed.” I moved inside and locked the door when everyone else joined. “Two Messengers were sitting outside waiting on you three.”

  “Did you shoot them?” Wendy asked.

  Carmen handed me the Glock. “I had to.”

  “This is not fucking good,” Wendy said.

  “You leaving the clubhouse without telling us is not fucking good.” I went to the window. “Oh, fuck.” The others joined me.

  “Who is that?” Gigi asked. She’d finally stopped shaking.

  “Damnit. That’s Rip Ingles. The club president.” I stepped away from the window. “Where’s your bike, Brainiac?”

  “Out back.” He drew his gun and started to open the front door. He wasn’t like the other club members and officers. He was still wet behind the ears regarding the brutal side of club business. No fucking way I was letting him go outside.