Some motorcycle clubs held charity events and conducted poker runs to benefit their community. Those were the clubs who operated inside the law of the land, and then there were one-percenters. The outlaws and rebels of the motorcycle world. The guys that gave all the good gangs a bad name. As if there was such a thing as a good gang. Actually, I guessed there was, but a very small fraction. Lastly, there was one category left, the DLMC. Not only were we labeled as outcasts because we didn’t abide by the laws as the other ninety-nine percent did. We were a double threat to the world because, to them, we were mystical creatures who only existed in books and movies. Unbeknownst to society, we had been on this planet as long as they had.
We didn’t owe them an explanation now any more than we ever had, but humanity had the advantage. There were more of them than there were of us, so we hid in the best damn place one ever could. In plain sight. Basically, there were two types of people in the world, those of us in the DLMC and then the rest. Fuck the rest.
284
Trista
“You need to move, Trista. Someone is coming,” The liger cautioned me. I heard her words of advice and told my body to listen, but nothing moved. Not even one fucking finger lifted from the horrific blood bath around me.
“Don’t be stupid. We can run. There’s time.”
I shook my head. “If we run, we’ll never find her.” A tragic hush fell over our conversation. The liger was the best in situations when we needed physical protection, but she didn’t always make the best decisions when it came to the heart. We had just escaped the clutches of death, and I couldn’t even begin to predict how long we’d been held prisoner. The first thing I should have done was let her take over our body again and run as far away from this hellhole as she could. That would save us from the person who was here to take us away.
This was a situation where we could never be crowned as the victor or the loser. We were both. She had temporarily gotten us out of danger, but it was the precise position I had to put us in to find our sister. So, I understood why my muscles refused to move. I didn’t really want them to in the first place. If we were run, we would be chasing a future lacking purpose. An eternity of darkness without the slightest flicker of light.
“He’s here,” she reported in a defeated tone, neither of us happy nor said about his arrival. This would be the second man to take us, but this time it wouldn’t be against our will. I didn’t bother lifting my body from the crimson river to great him as his footsteps neared. In my opinion, he was as much as a piece of shit as the last man, maybe even more. No. The man approaching was of value, or at least I hoped he was. He might be the exact person who had Tatiana, our sister.
285
Loco
“Plan of the fucking century,” I complained, turning the doorknob, and holding the trashcan lid in front of my junk. “What do you propose I do? A helicopter to get the element of surprise and hope it works?”
“Quit bitching! This might not be an ideal situation, but let me remind you who refused to let me walk across the street.”
“It’s daylight, I think it would be a little more alarming to see a leopard crossing the street than a naked man.”
“Exactly. Shut the fuck up with the whining and get the job done.”
I huffed, ignoring him. There was no feasible answer for the situation, so we took the route with less risk. My brother, Snoop, would find some way to get me out of an indecent exposure ticket, but if I outed shifters, we were all fucked.
Soft sobs rattled through the house, and I listened closely to pinpoint the location. Dodger’s house had less furniture in it than Camo’s, and that was saying something. Camo spent more time at Chaotic Twister than at his place, so he really didn’t need much.
My eyes landed on a small door nestled between the fridge and stove.
“She’s down there. I hear her and smell the blood.”
“Her?”
“I’m surprised as you are,” he paused and deeply inhaled, “and she’s a shifter. But she’s in human form.”
Each step I took into the darkness, my heart pounded fiercer. This wouldn’t be the first time I handled a dumb bitch who fucked with us, but I wasn’t comfortable to be in this position. I didn’t know what happened. Was she forced to kill him? Was she even at fault, to begin with? I blamed it on the unexplainable strange mood I had been stuck in recently. I was off my game, and it had my head all fucked up. My head had never been so inquisitive this close to a fight. I always knew I was going in for one purpose. To win. Now, I didn’t have the first idea about what would happen once I was in the same room with her.
“Light switch is on the left,” my leopard said as I drug my palm down the wall, searching for exactly what he had pointed out.
“Thanks.”
“Get ready to fuck her up. We have a job to do.”
“I was born for this shit,” I nervously answered him, both of us seeing straight through the lie. Normally, it would be the truth, I loved a good fistfight.
Fighting was how Tyson and I met, actually. Years ago, I was known as “La Loco Uno” to the underground fighting community, which roughly translated to “The
