Page 19 of Ruined By King

The warehouse on Route 10 is dark when we pull up, our bikes rumbling to a stop in the gravel lot. It's an old industrial building, abandoned for years, perfect for the kind of deals that don't show up on any paperwork.

We're early. That's the point.

I swing off my bike and nod to Rogue and Lock. We head inside, our footsteps echoing in the empty space. It's cold in here, the kind of cold that seeps into your bones, but I don't feel it. I'm too focused on what's coming.

We take our positions and we wait.

Twenty minutes later, I hear them. The rumble of engines in the distance, getting closer. Headlights sweep across the windows as bikes pull into the lot. I count the engines — twelve, just like Demi said.

The door creaks open. Chains steps inside first, Rocky right behind him, the rest of their guys filing in after. They're armed — I can see the bulges under their cuts — and they're expecting to find an empty warehouse.

Instead, they find us.

Three men. Standing in the middle of the room. Waiting.

Chains stops dead. The confusion on his face is almost worth everything.

His eyes narrow. Behind him, Rocky shifts, his hand drifting toward his piece.

"I wouldn't," Lock says quietly. It's not a threat. It's just a statement of fact. Rocky's hand stops moving.

"Here's the thing, Chains." I keep my voice conversational, almost friendly. "I know why you're here. I know how many men you brought. I know exactly what you were planning to do tonight."

The color drains from his face.

"Someone talked," I continue. "Someone in your club told us everything. The warehouse, the timing, the ambush." I smile. "Must be hard, knowing you can't trust your own people."

"You're bluffing."

"Am I?" I spread my hands. "Look around. Three of us walked in here. Just three. You think I'd do that if I didn't know exactly what was coming?" I let that sink in. "And if you're thinking about trying something anyway — my entire club is parked half a block away, waiting for my signal. So think carefully about your next move."

The Road Kings are exchanging glances now, suspicion rippling through their ranks. I can see it in their faces — the doubt, the paranoia. They're already wondering who the rat is. Already looking at each other differently.

Mission accomplished.

"Go home, Chains," I say. "Take your men, get on your bikes, and go home. Tonight's not going to go the way you planned."

"This isn't over," he growls.

"No. It's not." I hold his gaze. "But tonight, it is. Unless you want to start something right here, right now, knowing that my entire club is on alert and waiting for my call."

The threat hangs in the air between us. For a long moment, nobody moves.

Then Chains takes a step back.

"Let's go," he mutters to his men.

They file past us, mounting their bikes, their faces twisted with fury and humiliation. Rocky is the last to go, and he stops right in front of me, close enough that I can see the hatred burning in his eyes.

"I don't know who talked," he says quietly. "But when I find out, they're dead."

I don't react. Don't flinch. "Good luck with that."

He holds my stare for a beat longer, then turns and walks to his bike. A minute later, the Road Kings are gone, their taillights disappearing down the road.

Rogue lets out a breath. "Well. That was fun."

"It's not over," I say. "They'll regroup. Come back harder."