I stubbed out my smoke, about to head back in to wrap up everything with Tasha and get something to eat while we were at a diner. But, I pulled up short when a familiar thunder reverberated all around me.
Motorcycles.
They came in hard and fast, surrounding me and my bike before I could do much of anything. Four of them. All wearing cuts with Strikers MC patches. Nik’s boys. Fuck.
They must’ve been lying in wait to show so fast without me hearing it. The engines weren’t exactly quiet. Shit. Nik had eyes on her in a major way. He was fucking good to get past me.
I shot a glance back at the diner. Tasha was on her feet, her eyes wide with worry. She took a step forward and I held up my hand, signaling her to stay back.
The crunch of motorcycle boots on the concrete had me snapping back to the welcoming party, my attention going to the first one who’d swung his leg over his Harley.
My blood ran cold. This was bad, real bad.
They weren’t just what I called poser muscle, prospects sent out to deliver a warning, or some shit. The guy I had my eye on had a V. President signifier on his three-piece patch. A big gun. A fucking club officer. The shocks kept on coming as something caught my eye when he reached up to take off his helmet, the right sleeve of his long-sleeve tee riding up and revealing a very familiar tattoo. A serpent in bright red and orange hues with a forked tongue lashing out. I knew firsthand that it stretched from his wrist all the way down to the center of his hand. And it wasn’t the tattoo itself that was specifically striking. There were a load of those kinds of designs around. Nah, it was the prominent scar right through the forked tongue.
A scar I’d inflicted.
He pulled off his helmet, putting it down on his saddle and smirked at me.
“Cole,” he ground out.
“Rick Vale in the scarred flesh.”
His eyes narrowed, those thick, weirdly pointed eyebrows of his, combined with his skinhead and all the piercings in his face, ears, and nose, projecting a fierce demeanor.
Of course, I knew the pussy behind the façade.
His three boys, one new enforcer and two prospects I didn’t recognize, came to join the party, flanking him. He flashed me a shit-eating grin, then thumbed the diner behind him. “Thought you two were on the outs, ‘til our scouts spotted you thick as thieves this last week. Nik ain’t happy.”
“Yeah?” I took a step forward. He flinched, un-fucking-mistakeably. “Still his little bitch, are you?” I gestured to his right hand. “Can you even ride like a real biker anymore with that thing?”
“It’s called physio, asshole. Months’ worth, thanks to you crucifying it with a fucking throwing knife, you goddamn maniac.”
I watched him clench it involuntarily, his rage getting the best of him, and it was clear he was bullshitting me. I was sure I’d fucked it beyond repair, the angle and everything I’d aimed for intended specifically to fuck him up permanently. It must’ve had something to do with the shakeup in the Strikers’ ranks. Rick had been an enforcer for years, getting promoted to a club officer and the role of VP, especially, was a big fucking deal. The way the Strikers handled their shit, I knew it meant he was seeing way less field time now. It had to be about the hand. Though, given he was here right now in the field and facing off with somebody as infamously dangerous as me, Nik had something fucked up in mind, something that was worth the risk of even his most prized bootlicker, Rick.
“You were on a mission to rough up my woman. I got there in time and blocked your path. You’re lucky you’re still breathing.”
“I owe Natasha for that. If she hadn’t shown up and put you on that leash of hers, it would’ve been me dead in that alley along with Mikhail.”
“Leash?” I seethed.
“That’s right.”
Motherfucker!
I took another step forward. “That prospect was a fucking animal. A goddamn rapist, a fucking ripper. I did everybody a favor. Even your psycho Prez couldn’t keep him in line. Would’ve been Nik putting him to ground if I hadn’t got there first.”
His eyes flashed, a look I couldn’t place forming on his features. It was gone so quickly, though, that I didn’t get a chance to figure it out. He shifted his weight, cleared his throat and went on, “Me owing Natasha one is the reason I’m here right now and not Nik.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“He needs something from her and I’ve been sent to ask her nicely.”
“You either turn back around now, or I’ll damn well make you.”
“You don’t get it, Cole. This is just Round One. The second won’t be so nice. Nik won’t stop. You know how he works.” He grinned slyly. “Especially when it comes to her.”
I’d had just about enough of the bullshit that’d come spewing from his mouth. The posturing. The threats. The insinuations that Nik could get to my woman anytime and anywhere. And, most of all, that there was still a powerful connection between them, that she was somehow his property. His!
The asshole went on, “You do something stupid here right now and don’t let us pass, then the Strikers will come down on you and your brothers hard. You’ll be starting something the Steel Titans won’t survive.”
I watched his three associates fan out, surrounding me quick, preparing themselves if I took things south.
Who the fuck did they think they were dealing with?
The insult fueled the rage that’d sparked in me long before Rick’s last threat.
I strode forward, right into the center of the circle that the four of them had formed around me. “You think this is enough to take me down?” I demanded, gesturing at each one of them
