Page 1 of Fighter


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Fighter

I stared at her, taking in the soft lines of her features. Her golden wolf eyes and fuck-me lips. The delicate curve of her jawline and the slender fingers that tucked her mane of long dark hair behind her elfish ears.

“Well?” Gauge’s rough voice cut through my concentration and I dropped the photo back onto the table. I glanced between him and Hardy, my expression neutral.

“You got it?” Hardy asked. As usual, his hard scowl was in place. His eyebrows pulled in so much they were almost connected, the deep lines of his face prominent and casting dark shadows and sharp angles. There was an ugly growing within him, and it was reflected on the outside. Brother was not himself lately. But this was work and who was I to question his leadership.

“What do you need?” I replied. Because of course I was in. I was always in. No matter the job. No matter the sacrifice. This club, these men, they were my family and I’d do whatever needed doing to protect my brothers, family, my president.

“Need you to pick her up and take her to the safe house. Keep her there until I say so,” Hardy gritted, stubbing out his cigarette in the ashtray. “Father’s been a pain in my ass for long enough. It’s time the Highwaymen put some heat on him to back the fuck off our territory.”

“Damn straight,” Gauge agreed. “That motherfucker’s seen us as the competition for the last time.”

“Competition?” I asked, cocking my head to one side. My gaze dropped to the picture of the woman again, wondering who she was exactly. The club didn’t normally involve civilians; they were out of bounds when it came to club business. The woman—no, girl—looked familiar. She was young, could barely be nineteen if I wasn’t mistaken, but there was something else about the girl in the photo that kept me dragging my hard gaze back to her.

Gauge pushed some papers toward me and I unfolded them and read the address on it, committing it to memory. “She’s the princess of the Vipers MC.”

Now it all made sense and I nodded, deep in thought.

The Vipers MC was run by Razuuk Benite, our biggest arms competitor and one serious motherfucker. He held serious weight with the Reverend, and other clubs, and had been trying to edge out the Highwaymen for the past two years. It seemed he’d taken it to a whole new level just recently, and Hardy wasn’t taking to it lightly.

“When can you get it done?” Hardy asked, his hands balled into fists on top of the table like he was on the verge of breaking something. Man seemed tense as hell. “We can’t have no fuckups with this one.”

I cocked an eyebrow. “Since when do I fuck up?”

He snorted out an angry sigh in response.

“Need a couple of days to check everything out,” I continued.

Hardy nodded and leaned back in his chair. Still seemed tense as fuck, but at least he didn’t look like he was about to dive out of his chair and start Hulk-smashing shit up.

“Let us know the time and day and I’ll make sure her father’s men are somewhat indisposed,” Gauge said with dark glee. “Casa will sort the cameras. Should be easy pickings.” He snorted on a laugh.

“She’ll be alone?” I asked, because it seemed crazy to me that a woman like that would be alone. Alone meant single, and women like her were never single.

“She’s normally followed by a couple of Vipers. Father has her under lock and key at all times,” Hardy said. “We’ll have it covered.”

Gauge laughed again. “That ain’t the half of it.” I cocked an eyebrow at him and he laughed again. “Bitch is feral. Don’t take shit from anyone. Black belt in karate or some shit too.”

“It’s yoga, you fuckin’ idiot,” Hardy snapped, and Gauge looked at him and shrugged.

“Same difference.”

Hardy glared at him. “Same difference? You been sampling the product again? Yoga ain’t nothin’ like karate,” Hardy barked, turning his attention back to me, his scowl deepening. “But she is a Beniz so that means sheisferal. I swear to God they must have spiked that bloodline with someone because they’re all fucked in the head.” He shook his head. “I trust you to get this done, Fighter. You’re the coldest motherfucker in this clubhouse. You’re good at keeping your mouth shut, your head down, and your hands bloody. And that’s exactly what I need right now. You know we don’t normally involve innocents, but this shit is important, and it’s the only damn way to hit this fucker where it hurts and show him who runs these streets. He’ll let anyone go to ground for him. He’s got no ties. He’s got unlimited resources, and worse, he’s got the Reverend in his pocket. So I need this done, with no fuckups, because this is the only way I can think of to get him to step in motherfucking line.”

I nodded and Hardy glanced across at Gauge.

“I know shit’s been hard without Battle, but we’ve got to move on.” Hardy looked back at me, his jaw twitching. “I told you I’d deal with the situation, and I will, but first things first.”

I felt my anger spike at the mention of Battle’s name.

He’d left with his woman a week after Ripped’s body was put in the ground and threats of vengeance had promised to follow him into the club if he didn’t get out of town. Shit was fucked up, but Gauge promised me it was being dealt with. Battle would be back here where he belonged, with his family, soon enough. We just had to be patient. But I’d been patient and so had Battle, and nothing had come of it yet.

“You listenin’ to me?” Hardy growled out, slamming his fist on the table in front of him, his anger resurfacing.

Man had always been a moody son of a bitch, but he’d taken it to a whole new level recently. Something was coming. I could feel it in my veins, and I was guessing that Hardy could feel it too.