“Yeah, yeah,” he pulled on the cigarette. “Look, brother, she doesn’t need to know Zoya better than you and she’s probably not even trying.”
I glared at Vandal.
He laughed. “Zoya is easy to love so maybe she’s just really invested in helping her find her fucking voice again. You’re used to doing things your way, man. As a SEAL team leader, a biker, and an enforcer, it’s who you are, bossy to the very end.” He snorted out a laugh. “And you don’t like accepting help ortrusting people, two things this new arrangement is forcing you to do.”
He wasn’t fucking wrong. “Do you blame me? After everything with Trish,” I growled her name. “Bitch burned me twice and I’m not handing anyone that trust.” Not ever again.
“I get it, but this is for Zoya, not getting your dick wet. Again, the dick wetting would be the cherry.”
“Yeah,” I growled. “I got it.”
He laughed again, shaking his head, whatever he said after that was lost in the roar of motorcycle engines as Rocky, Diesel, Gio, and Sniper pulled into the parking lot. All conversation stopped at their arrival, and the air grew thick with tension at the dark looks each man wore.
“What’s up?” Hawk strolled out of the clubhouse with a frown.
“Found one,” Gio grunted before Diesel could. He looked wired and exhausted. Sniper stood beside him, hoodie covering his short dark hair, his eyes narrowed. “Got one of the assholes selling their poison inside the club. Says he doesn’t know anything other than Chaos Raiders MC got a new supplier.”
Diesel shook his head, expression deadly. “Chaos Raiders is a good fucking start. If they got a new supplier we need to find them too, but first find out if we have an unknown beef with the Raiders.” His expression landed on Hawk.
“I’ll grab Hollywood and T-Bone, and we’ll go have a chat with the Raiders,” he said with a mischievous grin.
“Good idea. We can’t have more fucking ODs in the club.” He shook his head, jaw clenched tight and his hands were balled into angry fists.
“That ain’t all,” Rocky said. “Just heard from Dagger that someone vandalized Steel City Ink. Again.”
“I’m on it,” I said too loud and too fucking fast, but I didn’t care. This was just what I needed, to fuck something—or someone—up. The Steel Demons MC ran on reputation and respect, and when someone fucked with our money, they showed a lack of both. It wasn’t a prank or a fucking joke, it was a threat.
Diesel nodded. “Take Rebel and Falcon with you. Find out who did this and clean it up. Quietly.”
“Understood.” This was exactly what I needed today, to get rid of some of this tension so I didn’t take it home with me. I tried to think about bustin’ skulls and kickin’ ass, basically anything other than Eliana humming in the kitchen, or the way she scraped the blender clean with her thumb, licking it off like it was the most natural thing in the world. Oblivious as fuck to the effect her innocent moves had on me.
Nope. Not Eliana, not now. Right now my focus was Steel City Ink.
***
Dagger’s angry scowl met us when we stepped inside the shop. He was red-faced and pissed off, scaring the fuck out of the scrawny asshole he held against a wall, his forearm pressed against the guy’s throat. “This dumb motherfucker and his friends thought they could fuck up my place,” Dagger snarled. “Look at it.” He jabbed a finger at the mural, black velvet withthe Steel Demons logo evolving over the years. Another finger pointed to a sleeve design Dagger had been working on for weeks. “Look what the fuck you did!”
The motherfucker, a kid no more than twenty it looked like close up, went pale at Dagger’s roar. He was scared as fuck, looking like he bit off more than he could chew. “Hey.”
The kid slammed his eyes shut, his breaths came out shaky and his forehead was drenched in sweat.
“Look at me,” I said my voice shot through with steel without raising my voice. “Yeah, that’s good,” I said in the same tone when his gaze met mine. “We just have a few questions.”
He nodded. “I don’t know shit, man. I swear.”
“Well, that’s too bad.” I nodded to Dagger, who dragged him to the back of the tattoo shop while Falcon and Rebel locked up the place. I got myself in the headspace of what I needed to do next. I wasn’t the club enforcer because I was naturally violent but because I knew that sometimes shit needed to be done. Ugly shit. Unforgettable shit that stuck with you for the long haul. But it was still necessary and I knew that. I understood it and I was willing to do it.
“You cost me money today, asshole.” Dagger was furious and ready to lose his shit on this guy.
I patted his shoulder and stood beside him. “Just tell us who paid you, because I can tell by looking at you that this wasn’t your idea.”
“It wasn’t,” he stammered insistently. “We got paid in cash, man. A full band, just to wreck this place.”
“Someone paid you ten thousand dollars to vandalize my shop?” Dagger grabbed the fucker by his hair and slammed his face against the wall.
“Ah, fuck!” The kid shook his head and spit out blood, right on the fucking carpet. “Yeah, man. Someone paid a fucking band each and the guy who gave us the money said to call him Psycho.”
“Psycho?” I repeated the name, jogging my memory for anybody with a name even vaguely familiar. The name didn’t ring any fucking bells, which pissed me off. “Anybody know a fuckin’ Psycho?”
