Raven:Don’t mean 2.
Muerto:BS, but I love it. Can’t wait 2 see u.
Raven:We’ll have some fun. ;)
“Is church interfering with your phone time?” Steel’s hard voice broke through the lustful haze Muerto was in since he’d started texting.
Muerto:Gotta go. Later.
Slipping his phone in his pocket, he looked at the president. “Sorry. I got something going here.”That’s ambiguous enough.
“Like sexting your latest squeeze?” Goldie wiggled his eyebrows and the brothers roared. Eagle, Army, and Cue Ball made kissing noises while Brutus and Skull simulated hard fucking sounds.
Muerto glared until Steel hit the gavel for the third time, a smile on his face. “Keep your private time outta church.” Picking up a 7-Up, he drank deeply, then scanned the members. “We’re gonna shut these fuckers down. No MC puts a business in our territory, and no strip bar on our turf hires underage strippers.”
“I say we blow their fuckin’ club up,” Army said. Several members voiced their agreement.
“I was leaning in that direction,” Steel replied.
“We gotta do it soon,” Paco said.
“Are the badges gonna leave us be?” Skull asked.
“Wexler practically gave us carte blanche,” Muerto said. “We need to teach Satan’s Pistons that they can’t mess with us. The fuckers knew exactly what they were doing, and having a phony group of wannabe gangsters on all the paperwork is such a crock of shit that it’s insulting.” He shook his head. “I vote we torch the place.”
Paco put up his hands as the brothers excitedly agreed with Muerto. “I think we know how this is going, but we gotta take a vote. All in favor of blowing up the damn bar say ‘Aye.’”
A thunderous boom of “Ayes” filled the meeting room.
“All opposed say ‘Nay.’” Paco waited for a couple of seconds. “It’s unanimous. We’re gonna torch the damn place.”
Amid the applause, Steel pounded the gavel many times until some quiet was had. “We move fast on this. Army, I’m putting you in charge of the operation. Pick a few brothers to be on your team. Any questions?” Army shook his head. “Good. That wraps it up. Go relax and have a few beers. We’ve got a hellish week coming up.” Steel hit the gavel on the block, adjourning church.
In the main room, Muerto ambled to the bar, grateful for the double shot of Jack that waited for him. The cool liquid went down real smooth, lighting his throat with the type of fire that warmed a person all over.
“You’ve been gone the past several nights,” Goldie said as he sidled up to a barstool.
Muerto shrugged and took another gulp of whiskey.
“Where you been stayin’?” Skull asked as he grabbed the beer the prospect handed to him.
“How’s this your fuckin’ business?” Muerto growled. He wanted to look at the pictures Raven had sent him again, but he didn’t dare chance it. The brothers would have a heyday with that, and he didn’t want them to disrespect Raven that way.
“He likes the woman. I’m with Muerto on this,” Diablo’s deep voice fell over them.
Muerto jerked his chin at him, surprised the sergeant-at-arms threw in his two cents. Normally, Diablo minded his own business and didn’t get involved in any drama about the women the brothers fucked. Muerto rarely saw him with any of the club girls, and never with a hang-around. He rarely shared any information about himself; all Muerto knew for a fact was that the big guy was from Salt Lake City.
“He likes a lot of women,” Chains said, and the brothers around him laughed.
“Don’t we all?” Crow chuckled.
“Yeah, but our brother here”—Chains lightly tapped Muerto’s shoulder—“isn’t the type of guy who goes out with a chick for more than a night or two. And he never stays the night.”
“Is she teaching you some pool tips? Are you in training to be a hustler?” Eagle had come over and joined in on the ribbing.
“I’m hangin’ with her. What’s the big deal? Can’t you losers get anyone but the club girls?” He motioned for another whiskey.
“I could beat her ass any day in a pool game,” Army said as he leaned against the bar.
