Angel: Dark MC Romance: Iron Vikings MC 4

Chapter 10

Present

Tired of dealing with the same old shit, Angel yanked the zip tie tight around Paul’s wrists.

“You’re hurting me!” the prospect shouted over his shoulder from the grimy asphalt like Angel would give a fuck.

Four months after lockdown and the club still hadn’t exacted revenge for kidnapping Cat. Angel felt something brewing in the air. He just couldn’t pinpoint from what direction the Storm Riders would come at them next.

“I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t know all the rules!” Paul said.

Angel clocked the back of Paul’s head with his gun to shut him up. Since the pussy fell K.O. to his side in the dead-end alleyway behind the club’s tattoo parlor, Angel could spare a minute and answer his buzzing phone from the inside pocket of his cut.

“What?!” he barked into the receiver.

Fox’s boisterous laugh made Angel’s jaw tick.

“Ah, I guess you already went psycho on him?”

Clearly, his friend knew him all too well.

“If Paul’s smart, he’ll spread the word so slime like him will think twice about knocking on IVMC’s door,” Angel said.

After ridding the club of the old timers thinking rape was just another way to get their rocks off, they now had to deal with these assholes thinking prospecting with IVMC meant every girl should gobble their tiny dicks whenever it pleased them.

They patched in Squirrel a few weeks ago, but the club couldn’t seem to find a suited replacement to join the other two prospects, Evan and Green. It annoyed the fuck out of Angel, who already had a lot on his mind.

“Preachin’ to the choir, brother,” Fox said.

Fox had been through his share with his two cousins he’d considered his daughters. With a deadbeat drunk for a father and their mother overdosing, Fox had stepped up as a father figure when the twins were five years old and he was still a twenty-five-year-old punk.

Ever since his cousin Rosie had been attacked by an old school biker at an IVMC club party, Fox had made it his sole mission to rid this world of sexual predators. The rest of the newly voted in club officers backed his mission wholeheartedly, especially since their former Prez and VP had set up a sex trafficking ring with their new club, the Storm Riders.

“How are Rosie and Joelle?”

Fox snorted. “You only ask me about my cousins because Quiet One is staying with them.”

Angel didn’t bother denying it, and asked, “How far are you on those new gadgets?”

Fox had said he’d already taken care of the girls’ security, but Angel just couldn’t risk it and asked for tracking devices.

It had been too quiet around the Storm Riders lately, and it didn’t sit well with him.

Angel already checked on the girls multiple times a day, casing their apartment building and its surroundings like he would any other stake out.

A few weeks ago, he called Zeus thinking something was about to go down when a couple of unknown bikers held church in the Irish pub around the corner of the girls’ apartment.

Zeus and Wolf instantly rode out to help Angel with their guns blazing, only to find recreational riders discussing their next charity ride in the Irish family pub.

Since then, Wolf never shut the hell up about Angel being some kind of stalker, egging him on about how Brass Balls and Whirlwind will whoop his ass when they’ll find out how he’d monitored their sister.

He understood how people could misconstrue his meaning behind his actions, so keeping an eye out on Nora from a distance with a new app would be perfect.

Fox hesitated a moment before he said, “I talked to Z and he?—”

“Great. Now Z will bring this shit up at church.”

“I can’t spend thousands of dollars on security without givin’ our Prez a heads-up. Zeus already knows about your fixation on Nora, anyway.”

“And when will you install the new shit?” Angel asked, ignoring Fox baiting him for a response on Nora.

“I’ll be there around six.”

Angel checked the time on his phone. Good. That left him an hour to get rid of their former prospect lying on the ground before him.

“I’ll see you there,” Angel said before he hung up on Fox.

The backdoor to the club’s tattoo parlor opened before Buzz stuck out his head through the door opening. “Yo, Angel. You almost done here?”

“What do you fuckin’ care?”

“I’m closing early,” Buzz said as Angel watched him avoiding eye contact.

Angel raised a brow. Buzz never closed early.

“Why?”

“What do you fuckin’ care?” Buzz said, throwing Angel’s words back at him, before slamming the backdoor shut.

“All right, up you go,” Angel said, while hoisting Paul up on his arm as the asshole came to.

The backdoor opened again before Green walked into the alley and took over the former prospect from Angel.

“Take him to the bend and let him find his way back to Austin on his own. And make sure he gets the hint to steer clear of IVMC. You know what we talked about.”

The dutifully prospect nodded. The former linebacker would give the red-haired former prospect an ass beating before stripping him of his clothes and making him walk back home naked. Angel found it a fitting punishment for Paul since he tried to undress Gisele while she’d been knocked out from one too many shots on the couch in the bar.

Angel yanked the prospect cut from Paul’s back and handed it over to Evan, who’d also joined them.

“Give this to Zion, he knows what to do with it,” Angel said to Evan.

“Let’s go,” Green said before yanking Paul through the door into the club’s tattoo parlor as if the slightly wobbly Paul weighed nothing.

As one of the smartest kids around and built like the club’s future Enforcer, Green had the most going for him to become their next fully patched member. If only it weren’t for his physical aversion to blood.

Turtle baptized him as Green during one of his first weeks at the club, after puking his guts out when Buzz kissed the asphalt in a quick getaway.

Normally, any other prospect would have been long gone, but Green convinced the brothers that he would do anything for the club, taking on any bloody chores without bitching and moaning. And thus far, he’d never let them down.

It also worked in Green’s favor that his oldest brother, Branko, is a highly respected Nomad. As a member of IVMC but not currently a member of any IVMC charter, Branko chose a solitary life as a Nomad after the club deteriorated under their former Prez, Annas.

Branko hated how Annas never listened to the younger generation and slowly turned the club to shit by giving the bad seeds in the club free rein. Angel wished Branko would come back to Austin, since they practically grew up together in this club and shared the same morals.

Branko would earn a seat at their table in a heartbeat, especially during this club war with the Storm Riders.

“How’s your oldest brother doin’?” Angel asked Green as he followed him through the back room and into the empty tattoo parlor.

Evan took over Paul from Green so he could answer Angel, but immediately struggled to open the door while supporting Paul and clutching the former prospect’s jacket with his other hand.

Buzz came around from the reception desk with his eyes rolling. He held the door for Evan, who pushed Paul outside.

Green scratched his head and said, “He’s somewhere up in Vegas. Dunno what he’s up to, really. I haven’t talked to Branko in weeks.”

“And your brothers? Did he contact them?” Angel asked.

Green shook his head. “I talked to Floryan, Dusan and Ivan last night. Only Dusan got a text from Branko last week.”

Angel had always admired the strong bond between the Croatian brutes and didn’t like the sound of Branko not checking in regularly with any of his four brothers.

“What kind of text?”

“Sretan ro?endan, ?upak!” Green said with a smile.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Happy Birthday, asshole!”

Angel flipped the prospect off before nudging his head towards the door. “Go help Evan. The little shit can’t even get Paul in the fuckin’ van.”

Before Green could open the door, it already opened.

Angel instantly recognized the dark-haired girl entering the parlor as Nora’s cousin, Mia.

“Is now a good time?” Mia asked Buzz as she pointed over her shoulder towards Paul hanging halfway out of the back of the van parked in front of the tattoo parlor.

“Just another day at Valhalla Ink, Babe. If you’re squeamish around this shit, you’d better twirl your pretty ass around and fuck off,” Buzz said.

Angel chuckled, witnessing a whole new side to one of the nicest IVMC members. Damn, even Quiet One felt at ease around this fucker. Nora wouldn’t believe her eyes if she saw Buzz standing there with his narrowed eyes directed at Angel, proverbial steam coming out of his ears.

“What the fuck are you laughin’ for?” Buzz spat at Angel.

Angel held up both hands. “Nothin’, brother.”

“I’ve brought my portfolio,” Mia said, placing a large folder on top of the reception desk while Green exited the shop to help Evan.

“You’re a tattoo artist?” Angel asked her, even though he already knew the answer. Angel had seen Mia multiple times at Nora’s apartment during his stake out in these past few weeks and he had Fox run a background check on her.

“Just because I have tits doesn’t mean I can’t tattoo like the best of them,” Mia said, raising her obstinate chin.

Buzz swallowed his laughter when Angel threw him a deadly look to shut him up.

“I never said you can’t. Just making conversation,” Angel said with a shrug.

Working at a tattoo parlor run by an outlaw motorcycle club wasn’t for everyone, but Mia Walker might be a perfect fit for Valhalla Ink. It still baffled Angel how in Nora’s group of four cousins who were also best friends, her twin sister Cat and cousin Mia, were the two snarkiest broads Angel ever met.

Both could put a brother straight without batting an eye, unlike Nora, who, after years of visiting IVMC’s family cookouts, still stuttered when spoken to by a brother. Angel liked that about Quiet One. Like a rare jewel, Nora’s innocence brightened the twilight zone he called life without even realizing it.

After leaving Buzz and Mia, he hopped on his chopper and switched on the ignition. The instant deafening rumble calmed the inner turmoil he felt at the prospect of seeing Nora again.

He’d spent weeks watching her from that coffee place across the street from her apartment. If he wasn’t such a sick bastard, he would have told Nora that she should close her curtains at night. He’d watched her sit in the middle of her bed and study or read one of her freaky vampire books while lying back under the covers.

He’d almost busted down her door a few weeks ago when he could have sworn that he saw her touching herself under the covers. He couldn’t be sure in the dark, and since he didn’t want Nora knowing he’d stalked her like some psycho, he sat frozen behind the coffee shop window, his eyes zeroed in on her comforter as her arm moved.

Angel only stopped for the red traffic light so he could shift on his chopper, since thinking about that night gave him an instant hard-on.

He revved the engine, not giving a fuck how many cars he had to overtake at high speed to finally see Jump Fire up close again.