Chapter Eleven
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE RUMBLE OF our engines cut through the night as we rode down the desolate backroad, eyes scanning the shadows for any sign of Dragon Fire trash. The tension in the air was thick, like a storm waiting to break. We’d been hearing more rumblings about them creeping into our territory, and we weren’t about to let that slide. So here we were—me, Mystic, Spinner and Thunder—out here on a scouting run, looking for any sign that those bastards were making a move.
I wasn’t thrilled about how many hours this hunt was taking. There was shit going on at the clubhouse I needed to take care of. Fiona probably hated me, and I couldn’t blame her, but dammit, she was judging me too. But talking to her would have to wait because club business came first.
It always did.
Mystic rode up beside me, his face half-covered by his bandana, eyes narrowed as he scanned the horizon. “You think they’re stupid enough to show themselves out here?” he asked over the wind.
“If they are, they’re dumber than I thought,” I shouted, glancing at the tree line. “But somethin’ is giving them the balls to push into our territory.”
Mystic snorted. “We’ll cut those motherfucker’s balls off and shove ‘em down their lizard throats.”
The Dragon Fire weren’t brave, but they weren’t cowards either. They’d been encroaching more and more lately, testing our boundaries, and we’d had a few run-ins already. No one had died— yet —but we were on the edge of something, and if they kept pushing, blood was going to spill.
We took a sharp turn off the main highway, cutting through a dirt road in the woods, the sounds of our engines muffled by the thick canopy of trees. It was dark out here, the kind of dark that made you feel like anything could jump out at you from the shadows. But I wasn’t scared. Unlike Chain, it took a hell of a lot more than ghosts in the dark to scare me.
We slowed as we approached a clearing, all four of us moving in sync, years of riding together making us move without words. Mystic pulled up next to a large cluster of trees and cut his engine, raising his hand to signal us to stop. I followed suit, the quiet settling in around us like a weight.
Thunder and Spinner drifted in behind us, hopping off their bikes. “What do you see?” Spinner whispered.
Mystic motioned toward the edge of the clearing. “Tire tracks. Fresh.”
I climbed off my bike, moving toward where Mystic pointed. The dirt was churned up, the imprint of motorcycle tires clear in the orange clay. I crouched down, running my hand over the track. “Definitely not ours,” I said, standing up and looking around. “Looks like they came through here recently.”
Thunder swore under his breath. “Dragon Fire?”
“Who else?” I said, scanning the area. “They’ve been sniffin’ around here for weeks, getting bolder.”
Mystic pulled out his phone, snapping a few pictures of the tracks. “This is our territory. It’s almost like they’re beggin’ for trouble.”
“They’re asking for an ass kickin’,” Thunder growled, cracking his knuckles. “And if they’re trying to push us, we’ll give them exactly what they’re askin’ for, just like Drago’s dear ole grandaddy.”
I felt the familiar burn of anger flare up in my chest. I hated these scouting runs, but I hated even more that Dragon Fire thought they could make a move on us. They were cocky, and they thought they could muscle their way into our space without consequences. But The Devil’s House wouldn’t back down, and if like Devil suggested, and we had to call in backup, then so be it.
“We keep lookin’,” I said, heading back to my bike. “I want to know how far they’ve come into what don’t belong to them.”
Thunder and Mystic followed as I kicked my engine back to life, the roar breaking the stillness of the night. We rode deeper into the woods, following the trail of tracks that led us further into the dark. The tension was thick between us, all of us on edge, waiting for something to happen.
After a few more miles, the tracks veered off the path and disappeared into the thick underbrush. We stopped again, this time more cautiously. The trees closed in around us, the shadows darker than before.
Spinner scanned the area, his eyes sharp. “We’re close to that old, abandoned paper plant,” he said. “Think they’re hidin’ out there?”
“Only one way to find out,” I murmured.
We rode in as quietly as we could, the sound of our bikes muffled as we moved through the trees, until the looming shape of the paper mill appeared in the distance. It was a decaying relic of a time long past, its rusted machinery and crumbling walls barely visible in the moonlight. But it was remote, hidden, the kind of place you’d go if you didn’t want to be found.
We stopped just outside the old factory, cutting our engines and listening. The night was quiet, too quiet.
I nodded to Mystic, Spinner and Thunder, motioning for them to follow me as we moved toward the mill on foot, our boots crunching softly in the leaves. My hand instinctively went to the gun under my cut, the familiar weight comforting as we crept closer. I didn’t know what we were about to walk into, but I wasn’t taking any chances.
We reached the edge of the building, pressing ourselves against the wall. Mystic peered around the corner, then pulled back, his expression grim. “They’re here. At least five bikes, maybe more inside.”
Thunder’s jaw clenched, his fingers itching for a fight. My brother loved to draw blood—maybe too much. “What’s the plan?”
I thought for a second, then nodded toward the bikes. “We disable their rides. Let them know they ain’t hidin’ shit. We don’t have the manpower for anything else.”
Mystic grinned, already pulling out a small blade. “I’d rather do bodily damage, but fuckin’ with their bikes will work.”
Our motorcycles were our babies, and to have it hurt, hit something deep and personal that only a biker would understand.
We moved quickly, slashing tires, mutilating paint jobs and cutting wires, our movements silent and efficient. By the time we were done, Dragon Fire wouldn’t be going anywhere fast.
As we worked, a flicker of movement caught my eye. I looked up, my pulse quickening as I saw one of their men standing in the doorway, his eyes widening as he spotted us.
“Shit,” I muttered. “We’ve been made.”
The asshole turned, yelling something back into the building, and within seconds, the sound of boots pounded from inside. Mystic, Spinner and Thunder tensed, ready for a fight, but I held up a hand. “No, it’s suicide. Devil would want us to back off.”
We backed away from the bikes, retreating into the shadows as more men poured out of the mill. Dragon Fire had more men inside than we thought, and we weren’t equipped for a full-on brawl. So my call was spot on and we continued to melt back into the darkness.
With adrenaline pounding, we slipped further into the shadows, keeping our steps light as we retreated, but my mind was anything but calm. Dragon Fire wasn’t just stepping into our territory; they were planting themselves right in our face, daring us to come after them. This was a message. They wanted us to know they were close, and they weren’t afraid of the heat it’d bring.
Thunder’s jaw was clenched tight, his fists white-knuckled with the frustration of a fight denied. “I hate runnin’,” he gritted out, voice barely a whisper as he followed me deeper into the trees.
I nodded, understanding his anger all too well. But Devil had made it clear—if we were going to retaliate, it needed to be on our terms, not theirs. I glanced back, watching the men still spilling out of the mill, their voices echoing into the night, rough laughter and jeers filling the silence we left behind.
As we reached the edge of the woods where our bikes waited, Spinner gave one last look over his shoulder. “They’ll come lookin’ for us. You know that, right?”
“Let them,” I replied, my voice low but cold with determination. “We’ve made our move. They’re gonna wake up tomorrow and realize they can’t roll through our territory without some kind of consequences.”
Spinner smirked. “They’ll be sittin’ on their asses with busted bikes and a pissed-off Prez breathing down their necks.”
Thunder’s frustration turned into a slow grin, and even Mystic managed a chuckle as we mounted our bikes. We might not have gotten the fight tonight, but Dragon Fire was going to feel our presence, hear our warning in the hiss of their tires and the silence of dead engines. Like Thunder, I wanted blood, but in this life, you had to learn to be smart or you got buried in a shallow grave.
As we roared back toward home, the fire in my chest was far from extinguished. This was just the beginning. We’d be ready for them, and they wouldn’t see us coming when the time was right.
The Devil’s House wasn’t a place for the weak, no fucking way. We walk away today so we can completely destroy them tomorrow.