“Same fuckin’ ones, huh?”
Neither of us said a word, but the implications were understood. We’d had multiple clubs from out of town come and try and color us up to them. The message to them was clear each time. No, and next time, we just shoot you for annoying us.
“I mean, I’d be damned if there were two fucking clubs with the same name and they didn’t have beef with each other,” Sonny said. “I think I heard someone say the enemy was the Bandits or some shit.”
“Never fuckin’ heard of ‘em.”
“And never fucking will again after this.”
I stared at the TV a few more seconds. They showed the faces of the men apparently responsible for the attacks. The Bandits had a couple of Hispanic dudes, while the Black Reapers had two white guys, both of them somehow looking like surfer dudes. I knew better than to judge bikers by appearances and muscles alone since I’d seen too many “look like Tarzan, play like Jane” types, but something didn’t exactly strike me as them being as hard as the Devil’s Patriots.
“Well, if those fuckers try and come here, we’ll teach them the definition of annihilation,” I said, going back to work. “And—”
I heard the sound of another motorcycle. This one sounded completely unlike anything I’d heard; it sounded smoother, more expensive than the shit we rode.
I knew it, and judging by the look on Sonny’s face, so did he.
“Spawn didn’t pimp out his ride, did he?”
Sonny shook his head.Great. Fucking convoy.
“Guess it might be time to teach some assholes the definition of annihilation.”
“Or could just be a customer looking for an engine repair.”
I admired Sonny’s optimism, if you could call it that. In the pussy real world, he’d be considered a hard-nosed, mean motherfucker. Here, given he didn’t immediately resort to worst-case, survivor-based actions, he was an optimist.
But even he had to know that what he’d just said was hope beyond hope.
I looked at him sideways, nodded for him to step outside, and led the way. The chains on our clothes clinked, making wherever we went noticeable and impossible to ignore. It was my hope that if this rich asshole had thought he could impress us, everything about us, from our mandatory neck tattoos to the chains on our clothes, would suggest otherwise.
When we stepped outside, a man with spiked blond hair, a deep tan on his exposed skin, and a crown tattooed on his right hand got off his souped-up bike. I already hated the asshole.
“My name is Asher, and I’m from the King’s Men MC in Las Vegas,” he said in a dry tone. “There’s a war coming, and we need you guys to join us.”
I looked to Sonny. We both had the same immediate reaction. We burst out in apparently uncontrolled but very much controlled, condescending laughter.
“And I need the Cookie Monster to suck my cock while he stuffs my face, but fantasy shit ain’t happening,” I growled. “So, Asshole, I suggest that if you want to preserve your bones, you get the fuck out of here before we grind you to dust.”
“I was told not to return without you guys becoming a part of us.”
The laughter stopped. I sneered at him. Sonny circled around him.
“I’m in a particularly good mood today, so I’ll give you one last fucking shot,” I said. “You’re not the first fuckhead from Las Vegas to come this way and try and color us up. And I can assure you that our answer now is the same as the answer then. We didn’t get into this world so we could answer yes to some suited dipshit who likes to smoke cigars and have ladies in cocktail dresses around him. We got into it so we could do whatever the fucking hell we wanted. I don’t care if King promises us blow and blowjobs. The answer is no.”
Asher sighed. He didn’t look like he got told no very often. But he also had a sense of fear around him, and it was evident that he knew if he thought of himself as a tiger, he really was just a pussycat.
“I will not—”
Sonny immediately got him in a headlock. While Asshole tried to struggle free, I went over and dealt him a hard punch to the ribs that I knew on impact at least cracked a few, if not outright broke them. Sonny let him go to the ground, then delivered a swift kick to the back. Asher staggered around. I gave him a boot to the face. He was still conscious.
Barely.
I reached down, grabbed him by the collar, and lifted him up.
“I could fucking kill you right now, and you’d damn well deserve it after all the warnings I gave you. But instead, I’m going to do something much better to teach you a lesson.”
Sonny, though, was already two steps ahead of me. By the time I’d finished speaking, he’d slashed asshole’s tires and was dismantling the engine.
