The room is already full as I enter.
I’ve just about got my ass on my seat as Bullseye bangs the gavel and announces, “Church is in session. Now shut the fuck up.” After letting a wide grin split his face, he slams his palms down on the table. “Revenge served cold, Brothers. Even better than when it’s served hot.”
There’s hollering, foot stamping, and hand slapping from all around. It had been seven months ago or thereabouts since the MDMC had attacked our club. Well, not the actual members, but an army of wannabe recruits that they’d assembled. They’d burned down the original bunkhouse and killed Heathen, our prospect. Of course, we’d wanted to hit them hard immediately, but Bullseye cautioned us to wait. The top priority was rebuilding so our brothers had a place to lay their heads. Now, apparently, we’ve gotten our vengeance.
“I’d love to have seen their fuckin’ faces.” Rattler smirks.
I’m lost. “You were a bit short on the details, Prez. Wanna fill me in now?”
His grin broadens. “We caused some damage and took some out…”
“They were so drunk it was like bowling at a full frame of Skittles,” Words gleefully remarks.
“And they went down just as hard.” Winchester exchanges fist bumps with him.
They quiet down at Prez’s glare. “Didn’t know or care who we were shooting, but I do have my doubts it was their officers. If it’s anything like when they attacked us, they probably sent out their cannon fodder. Still, we took a fair few of them out.”
“Bigfoot and his crew helped. The MDMC didn’t know where the shots were coming from. They were just firing back blindly.” Stalker chuckles.
Widening my eyes, I shake my head. “And you all came back without a scratch on you?”
Saint starts laughing so hard his shoulders vibrate. “Except for Smooth, the New Mexico road captain got a through and through to his shoulder.” He jerks his head toward Saint, who’s still chortling.
There are four of us who just look each other. It’s Tempest who asks, “Heard the headlines last night. What did you do to him?”
Saint continues, speaking through his own chuckles. “Yeah, sucked to be him, didn’t it? When the only available medic was the man whose wedding he ruined.”
“Let’s just say, I wasn’t too gentle. I got us payback.” He looks down the table, meeting Short’s eyes, and both men salute each other.
“He had it coming to him,” Piston observes. “But I hope you didn’t fuck him up. New Mexico have been good friends to us.”
“Nah, bro. Mainly I fucked with his head. Just let him believe for a moment, instead of stitching him up, I was going to put another bullet in him.”
And Saint can be particularly scary. He can easily rival my best enforcer face. He allows the laughter to continue for a moment, then he smirks as he raises his brow toward Bullseye. “You saving the best for last?”
“He fuckin’ is,” Rattler shouts out, then proceeds to steal Prez’s thunder. “We lobbed a couple of grenades straight into their bikes.”
As the room erupts in loud guffaws and belly splitting laughter, Prez doesn’t even seem to mind it wasn’t him delivering the punchline. My mouth drops open then I’m joining in.Oh yeah. Revenge has definitely been served.Payback is sweet. It was the same thing that they’d done to us.
After waiting for the various reactions to die down, Prez bangs the gavel again. He waits to speak until he’s got our attention. “Our mission was successful as you all know. We rescued Ace and Trixie.” He again has to wait for the stomping to die down.
“Nobody fucks with the Kings.” Tempest’s observation is followed by riotous applause and table thumping.
Prez starts banging the gavel and then repeats his action until silence falls. “Freak’s brought us back a problem.” He casts a chastening look my way.
“Yeah, why didn’t you just leave the bitch there?” Woody queries. “Or has she made her excuses and wrapped you around her finger again?”
I level my eyes at him in a glare that hopefully conveys, no fucking way.
“Never liked the bitch,” Paint puts in. “Something about her rubbed me the wrong way.”
“Surely there’s only one way to be rubbed? Up and down, down and up.” Rattler punctuates his words with a crude gesture.
“Shut the fuck up, Rat,” Tempest roars.
But as the other observations come in, I frown. Was it really only me who liked her? Or are their comments coloured by the benefit of hindsight. Whatever, it had been me who’d been taken in by her. As Ace had said, I’d been led by my dick.
Clearing my throat loudly, I tell them, “I admit it, Toni took me in. But after the stunt she pulled?” My hand slashes through the air. “Nah, I could never take her back again. She lied, she manipulated, and all to separate me from Ace. She was stupid enough to believe Candyman was her brother and delivered him to the MDMC gift wrapped with a fuckin’ bow. Even without that, I could never forgive her for wanting to take Ace away. Her reasoning that I was a bad father, simply for being in an MC was crap, and doesn’t hold water.”
