“His fucking stench of cheap cologne,” I replied with a snarl. “I can still smell it.”
Chrome whistled. “Okay. Why am I not smelling anything?” He appeared annoyed.
“Don’t know. Maybe it’s my Berserker.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah. I think you’re right.”
“It’s not far. He’s in Vegas.” We already knew that since he’d followed Nylah, Cam, and Mimi to the boutique. “A casino, maybe.”
“Then lead the way. I’ll follow you.”
We spent the next half hour riding through Vegas, following Tony’s scent as I tried to focus on the exact location. We passed by multiple casinos, and none of them was the right building. I was already pissed, and that just made it worse.
“Wait. Stop.” Chrome eased his bike off the road, and I joined him, idling as I wondered if he sensed something I hadn’t. “There’s a vibration.”
Yeah. Our motorcycles.
“I see that look. Fuck off. It’s not the bikes.” Chrome shut off the engine and rose from his seat. “It’s in the dirt and sand.” He crouched down, placing a palm on the earth. “I can feel it.”
I shut down my bike too, listening as if it would matter. “No shit? Because now that we’re not riding, I can sense it growing stronger.”
“Yeah.” He stayed still, closing his eyes as his Reaper took over. Even with them shut, his lids didn’t completely close. I saw a silvery hue that belonged to his Reaper. “Turn left.”
I slid off the seat of my Harley and turned to the left. “Fuck yeah!” The smell intensified.
Up ahead, maybe a hundred yards from our position, a strip club flashed neon lights. I would bet my left nut that Tony Brock was inside.
“He’s in there, Rael. I know it.”
I had texted Xenon and asked him to find a photo before we left the hospital, so I knew who the fuck I was looking for. If this guy was getting drunk, he didn’t pause to consider the consequences of his actions when he sent those fucking roses. Hell, he was a dead man as soon as he touched my ol’ lady without permission.
Spooking my Nylah? A death wish.
“Let’s go,” I ordered my brother, running to the front entrance and pushing through the double doors. I’d been in enough joints like this where tits and ass were on display, andmen salivated over pussy they couldn’t touch or fuck. It didn’t appeal to me.
The only exception to that was when I took Nylah to Linked, our BDSM club. Now that was fucking fun, but only because I got to sink my dick inside her and watch her become aroused by the sensual play all around us. Nothing wrong with a little visual to stimulate the senses.
But this shit? Nah. Didn’t do it for me.
Same for Chrome. He loved the sex club atmosphere, but not a dirty strip club where women took your money and pretended to like you. I’d much rather fuck my woman and know that when I made her come, she was loving every moment.
“I see him,” Chrome announced, lowering his voice so it barely registered above the thumping music playing far too loudly through the speakers. “At the pole on the far end of the room.”
“Yeah.”
We moved almost as if we were one mind, letting the Reapers push toward the surface enough that no one would try to stop us. They projected an aura that intimidated most men. But with my skull-themed face paint, few tried to fuck with me.
Tonight was no exception.
I approached Tony Brock, grabbed his shoulder, and hauled him to his feet. “Move.”
He stared at me, wide-eyed, before he blinked. “Oh, shit! It’s you.” A laugh tumbled from his lips.
I could smell the alcohol on his fucking breath.
“Walk to the door. Now,” my Berserker ordered, taking over as he seethed with renewed ire.
Tony flashed a grin. “Sure!”
