Page 64 of Ink

“We’re good, brother,” he answers, his stupid fucking smirk getting wider.

I see the challenge in his eyes. He’s baiting us. He’s itching for a fight that I’m not going to give him. The kid has the same look on his face. They both think they have the upper hand.

Karma’s going to make them her bitch one day. And that karma will be in the form of the Dirty Devils.

Rail spits on the ground, missing my boot by mere inches as he walks a couple steps backward before spinning on a heel.

“We’re not your fucking brother.” Hash grounds out before starting his bike. The roaring of his pipes drowns out Rail’s reply, but judging by his face, it isn’t a good one.

Mounting my bike, I follow suit. Revving the engine a few times before I peel out of the lot, leaving them covered in dust.

We take a different way back to the clubhouse from the way we usually take. This way takes an extra hour, but nothing about this night has been the same as past ones. It isn’t until we’re about twenty minutes out from the spot we met up at that I get this gnawing feeling to look behind me.

Glancing in my mirror, I see three lights off in the distance. They’re staying far enough back, making the lights look like little dots, but I know they’re bikes.

Motioning to Hash with my hands, I point over my shoulder to let him know that we have company.

We hit the gas; the lights getting further and further away until they’re nothing but a blur.

Hash and I arrive back to the clubhouse at the ass crack of dawn. I’m not surprised to find Cain waiting up for us. I figured he wouldn’t leave until he knew what was going on.

“How’d it go?” Cain asks, looking as irritated as I feel that we’re fucking up right now dealing with this bullshit.

“As good as you can expect it to go,” I answer as I take the bag of cash from Hash and follow Cain into church. “How were Sutton and Evan tonight?”

“Don’t know. I didn’t want to leave in case you guys needed something. I’m assuming everything’s good, considering I haven’t heard from her.”

Cain sits at the head of the table while Hash and I take seats on either side of him. No one says a word for a full thirty minutes, the time it takes me to count the money three times just to be sure I got it right.

“It’s short.” I slap the last stack of hundreds on the table.

Cain’s fist slams down on the table, making the piles of cash fly. “I’m done. They’re fucking with the wrong motherfucking people. Call church. Now.”

Hash gets up to go and get the rest of our brothers, leaving me with Cain.

“Were they acting shifty like last time?”

“Nope. They sent an enforcer and a prospect who were way too excited to be doin’ a basic ass drop like that.”

“What fucking pisses me off is they’re not only fucking with the club, but also our money. We agreed to help them out until their supplier can keep up and this is how they fucking repay us? Our club doesn’t even mess with coke, so this was a huge fucking favor on our end. I thought it took balls for their president to come to me to ask, but doing this is what took fucking balls,” Cain rants.

“We need to do somethin’. It took everything in me to not punch the smirk of his fuckin’ face.”

Cain’s brow lowers as he thinks about everything I just told him. “You said he only sent an enforcer and a prospect?”

I nod. “I’m assuming the kid is a prospect. He wasn’t patched in.”

Cain leans back in his chair, the expression on his face matches the one I had to mask—what the fuck?

The guys file in one by one behind Hash, who moves down a seat, leaving the one he was sitting in for Scotch, the VP.

“I’m assuming this shit went south if we’re all getting called in before I’ve taken my morning shit?” Cyrus asks, sounding as tired as I feel. He’s still in pajama pants for fuck’s sake.

“Hash and I got to the spot first, like we always do, so we could hear them comin’ in. This is where it gets fuckin’ shady. The closer they got, all of a sudden half the noise of pipes coming toward us cut out. I think they’re the same ones that followed us out.”

“They tailed you?” Scotch asks.

“Looked like it to me. Stayed far enough back and didn’t fuck with us, but the message was clear,” Hash answers, leaning back in his chair.