I don’t hesitate and drive my elbow into his gut.
“Oof,” he grunts, laughing as he stumbles away.
Amy’s head snaps toward us. “This,” she announces, jabbing a finger at Frost. “Isexactlywhy I should be allowed to bring my bat.”
Frost just laughs harder.
“No,” I say quickly. “Absolutely not. Frost is joking. Mostly.”
“Mostly?” Amy echoes, horrified.
I sigh and cup her face, forcing her to look at me. “You don’t need the bat. There will be lights, music, security, and witnesses everywhere. We are going to drink, dance, embarrass ourselves, and come home without serving any jail time.”
She searches my face, jaw tight, then glances down at the bat one last time.
“She’s never let me down,” she whispers.
Chaos lifts his glass. “Honestly, I don’t know why you’re worried. There will be a whole pack of badass bikers around to protect you.”
Amy groans. “I hate you.”
Chaos grins wider. “You know I’m right.”
Glitch steps in beside her and leans down, whispering something I can’t hear.
Amy stiffens and sighs. After a long pause so dramatic it deserves an Oscar for the performance, she carefully slides the bat off her shoulder and hands it to Glitch.
“If anything happens,” she says, pointing at me. “This is on you.”
I smile and pull her into my arms. “Deal.”
Tomorrow morning, we head out for a weekend of celebration, and I, for one, am ready to cut loose and leave the stress of wedding planning behind. The weekend itinerary was planned with Amy, my parents, and the rest of the club brothers. Frost and I are along for the ride and will let the chips fall where they land.
Amy wraps her arm around my shoulders. “And who says I can’t beat someone’s ass in other creative ways if they fuck with my bestie?”
I palm my face. “Why do you always look for a fight?”
Amy grins. “Always be prepared. You know my motto.”
At least I don’t have to worry about Big Lil’ making an appearance.
CHAPTER 1
FROST
Vegas hits like a punch to the senses the second we step inside the casino.
The air smells like perfume, booze, and desperation, and the flashing neon lights are promises of terrible financial decisions. Slot machines scream for attention, and the carpet looks like it was designed by someone on a bender. The bright colors blend together, giving the illusion that time stands still.
Death’s Gambit floods the lobby in leather and ink, boots echoing off polished marble as tourists in flip-flops part like the Red Sea. Hope squeezes my hand and squeals with excitement as we head toward the reception desk. Amy stalks through the lobby like a woman who’s been personally wronged by security, still bitter about not being able to bring her bat. She glares at a decorative pillar like she’s considering using it as a weapon.
“Still don’t understand why I couldn’t bring Big Lil’,” she mutters.
I chuckle. “Based on the way you’re looking at the column over there, I think it’s safe to say we were right.”
Check-in is a mess of IDs, credit cards, and the front desk clerk’s smile slowly dies the longer she looks at us. Hawk takesin the poor woman’s frantic appearance and takes mercy on her. “Put it all on my card, sweetheart.”
The receptionist gives him a grateful smile and finishes checking us all in, and begins activating the key cards. Hawk swipes the plastic card off the counter and hands it to me.
