I knew it was a stupid idea. I knew it was a completely idiotic and stupid idea. But it didn’t take much searching for me to find a few pictures of their bikes and their red leather vests standing around a building that I recognized. On the other side of town, away from the ocean, was a string of abandoned buildings. One of those buildings had this stone-like facade with black window frames and moss growing around the edges of it. I set my sights on that building, wondering if maybe that was where this sorry excuse for a club had set up shop.
And when I pulled into the parking lot across from the building, I made sure to ease my way into the shadows.
While I watched those assholes lean all over their bikes while laughing their heads off.
I hadn’t gotten a look at any of their faces during the shootout, but I knew they had been involved. They laughed and reloaded the magazines of their guns, most likely to replenish the bullets they had discharged into the front of the homeless shelter. I wanted to slaughter them all. Did they not give a shit that innocent human beings had been in their way?
I pulled out my phone and snapped pictures through the windshield.
And as I snapped the very last picture, I noticed something.
I noticed that one of the members of their club looked dead at me through my god damn phone camera.
Fuck. I’ve been made.
SEVENTEEN
BENDER
“What the fuck!?”
“Seriously? A homeless shelter? Do they not have any class?”
“Who was the target? I want their head on a god damn spike!”
The guys were up in arms as we charged through the front door of our clubhouse. The guys yelled over top of one another, pointing fingers and slinging accusations.
Which was exactly what they wanted.
“You want to do it or should I?” Fangs asked.
I lifted my fingers to my lips and let out a piercing whistle that stopped everyone in their tracks.
“Hey!” I barked as I walked into the middle of the throng of men that were red-faced with anger. “I get that we’re pissed, but we aren’t pissed at one another. That’s the kind of shit they want. They want to tear us apart any way they can. So, if anything, your anger is directed at them.”
“Who the hell was the target? Do we know?” Reaper asked.
I raised my hand into the air. “Most likely, the target was me or Fangs. We were the ones coming out of the police precinct, so they’re probably thinking that we’re working with them somehow.”
Goose scoffed. “Shows you how much they know us.”
Fangs stepped to the forefront. “Which is why they won’t see it coming when we take the party to them.”
I turned to face him. “Say what?”
Fangs held his head high. “They’re so busy scaring us that it’s time we gave them a scare.”
“Yeah!” the guys exclaimed.
“Are you sure about this?” I murmured beneath my breath.
Fangs looked over at me. “You got any other ideas on how to get them off our backs for the time being?”
And as much as I wanted to come up with something, I had nothing. “Let’s be careful about this then.”
Fangs grinned. “Since when am I ever not careful?”
We rounded up all of the guys, rolling at least fifty strong as we crossed town. Twin Bays had four main roads that sort of blocked it in like a square. There was the ocean side, where we sat; the San Diego and L.A sides; and then there was their side. The Devil’s Rage side, the side that ventured out into the wasteland deserts of California.
