“I don’t know about any deal you made with Viper.” He holds up the USB stick. “Just came for this.”
I nod. Typical prospect answer. Patched members never shared privileged information with the underlings.
The kid turns and heads for the back lot with me following close behind. I can’t wait to get up to my room, burrow under the covers, and put this day and night behind me.
Two seconds later, a dark figure grabs the prospect by the shoulders and slams him up against the brick wall of the bar.
“Where the fuck you think you’re goin’?” The shadows shift, illuminating a face twisted in rage.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
SAMMIE
Ace grabs the prospect by the throat and squeezes. “What the fuck is goin’ on out here?” he snarls. “What did she give you?”
“I—I,” the kid chokes.
“Ace, please.” I reach for him with a shaky hand, but he pushes me off.
Ace’s glare shifts between me and the prospect. “You’re meeting up with a Dog.”
“No, I mean . . .”
“Quit lying, bitch,” Ace sneers. “Imagine my surprise when I’m checking the security cameras, and I see you talking to this fucker.”
My eyes dart above me. Of course, the new security system with cameras spaced every few feet.
I step closer. “You don’t understand.”
“Nah, bitch, I understand perfectly.”
“It’s not what it looks like.” The words even sound stupid to me.
“It’s exactly what it looks like. Exactly what I told Deuce. You’re nothing but a fuckin’ traitor for the Dogs.”
“No, no, that’s not true.”
"You’ve been selling us out all along, huh?”
Ace releases his chokehold and spins the kid around with his arm halfway up his back. Then he grabs my biceps and steers us both into the back door with unbelievable ease.
He stops at the door of their new meeting room, releases my arm, slips a keycard into the lock, and the door springs open. Without a word, he pushes us both inside. I stumble, only catching my balance on the back of one of the chairs.
The metal door slams shut behind Ace, and silence fills the room. The prospect’s eyes are wide and twitching while mine slide shut with sheer exhaustion. I pull out one of the chairs and sit for fear if I don’t, I’ll be face-planting on the new plank flooring.
After what seems like an eternity, the lock clicks, the door swings open, and when Ace, Fist, and then Deuce enter, the room seems to shrink. The air shifts, and my chest constricts like every breath is an effort.
Over the last month, I’ve seen these men working, bickering, teasing and razzing each other. I know deep down they’re outlaws who broke the law, but all that didn’t prepare me for the three sets of hard, dark eyes burning into me. Jaws set, menacing scowls, ready to throw down anyone who interferes with the Kings.
The most frightening is Deuce. His narrowed eyes sear into me like we we’re deadly enemies. Like we haven’t brought each other to multiple orgasms less than twenty-four hours ago. Like he’d have absolutely no trouble putting a gun against my temple and pulling the trigger.
Ace steps forward, spins the prospect toward the wall like he’s a rag doll, then frisks him until he comes up with the flash drive. He holds it close to the kid’s face. “Is this what she gave you?’
“Yesss,” he stutters, his head bobbing up and down.
Ace yanks him around and throws him to Fist. “Take him down to the basement. I’ll deal with him later.”
The kid digs in his heels like he knows what awaits him, but he’s no match for Fist’s bulk.
