Chapter 6 Chaos
Chaos
Soul stops at one side of me, Venom at the other. We pause in front of the motel, assessing the dilapidated building. Ghost has the three of us running down leads on the men my brother sent to find Willa, and this is by far the worst of the places we’ve been sent so far. It’s falling apart.
I’m getting tired of chasing them around the city.
I’m tired in general.
With Willa in my bed, I’ve barely slept. Lying there doesn’t do me any good when she’s so close, so I wander the clubhouse instead.
As if this mess with Willa isn’t enough to keep me on edge, there’s the Feds, peaking my irritation level.
They raided the strip club a few nights ago and temporarily shut us down on a bullshit oversight with our liquor license.
Monroe got it cleared up in a day, but the city dragged their feet giving us approval to reopen, so tonight is the first night we’ve been able to do so.
We’re bleeding cash, and with investigators breathing down our necks, we can’t touch any money we didn’t obtain legally.
I’m angry, exhausted, and itching to take out some aggression.
If all goes well here, I might finally get my chance.
“Five bucks says Venom is the one taking a bullet today.” Soul looks up at the crumbling motel.
Venom climbs off his bike. “I thought the goal was no bullets.”
“The goal is always no bullets, but it rarely happens,” I remind him. “I’m with Soul. Five bucks says you’re the one getting shot.”
“Why me?”
“It’s always you pulling the heroic shit.”
Venom laughs but doesn’t disagree. He patched in a little over a year ago, and in that time, he’s bled more than most of us. He’s taken bullets protecting old ladies. Knives to the gut. The guy is a fucking mess of scars and tattoos.
“How many of your nine lives have you burned through already?” I ask, reaching for my gun.
“Probably a few too many.”
“Well then.” Soul holds up his piece. “Let’s see if we can get through this without burning through a couple more.”
We head up the rickety motel stairs, drawing eyes from every direction.
A few guys hang on the railing on the third level. But when they take in our cuts, they disappear back into their rooms, not wanting any trouble. Most people in this city know to steer clear when they see a Twisted Kings patch.
Soul takes the lead, and I cover his back, keeping an eye on the parking lot for any trouble that might roll up. None of the plates are Texas, but that doesn’t mean they haven’t gotten smart and changed them.
When we reach the last door on the third level, Venom and I stay hidden around the corner so they can’t spot us through the window. Soul slaps a palm over the peephole, knocking with his other hand.
For a long moment, there’s no noise on the other side of the door. No movement from the windows and no footsteps. My annoyance grows at another dead end. But right as we’re about to give up, someone rustles in the motel room.
“Who is it?” they ask through the door with a raspy voice, like they just woke up.
“Your card got declined when we re-ran it for the night. Pay up or get out.”
“It what?” The man starts wrestling with the chain, and I can’t believe he’s buying this shit. “That card was good. What did—”
The second the door swings open, Soul points his gun at the motherfucker’s head. “Make a sound, and I pull the trigger.”
He throws his hands up and backs up a step to let us in.
His friend, who was still in bed, shoots to standing when he sees us. But Venom reaches him before he can grab his gun.
Venom clicks his tongue, shaking his head once as he aims the barrel between the guy’s eyes. “Don’t move.”
“What do you want?” His heavy southern accent hints that we’re in the right place, while the Ironside Ridge brand on their arms confirms it.
“You made a mess of my girl’s motel room the other day.” I pace, taking in the old takeout boxes and dirty clothes.
Soul’s eyes cut to me when I say my girl, and I know it’s a mistake. She’s not my girl; I shouldn’t have said it. But I don’t take it back either.
“We don’t want any problems with you,” the guy sitting on the bed says. “We were told to bring her back, that’s it. They didn’t say anything about her already having protection. You surprised us.”
“We surprised you?” I chuckle, stopping in front of him and winding my arm back.
I slam the butt of my gun into the side of his temple, and he falls back on the bed. But I grab his shirt and pull him up, so he’s forced to face me, blood spilling down the side of his face. Leaning closer, I shove the barrel against his temple.
“Maybe you aren’t clear who runs this fucking town. You’re in our territory, asshole. Everything and everyone in Vegas has our protection unless we say they don’t. And you’re not taking a damn thing that I’m not willing to give you. Do you understand?”
“Kincaid wants her back,” the guy near the door interrupts, and the sound of my brother’s name sets me off.
“Is that so?” My patience is thin as I walk over to him.
Soul grabs the guy’s shoulder and shoves him into a chair at my approach, forcing him to sit.
“Well, I’ve got a message for my brother.”
“What are you—” The guy stops talking when Soul presses his gun to the back of his head.
“One more word, and it will be the last. Promise.” Wicked excitement plays in Soul’s eyes.
Soul is one of the most carefree people I know, but that’s only because it hides something much darker that lives inside him. A side that is terrifying if you’re on the wrong end of it.
I strip off my belt and shove it between the guy’s teeth, forcing the leather deeper as I tighten the belt around the back of his head.
“You’re going to need that.” I grin, smacking the side of his face hard enough that his head jolts to the side.
He tries to mumble something, but it’s muffled by the belt. Fear widens his eyes as I grab his hand and plant it on the table. He attempts to wiggle it free, but Soul taps his gun on the back of his head, reminding him not to move.
“I want you to tell my brother something for me.” I tuck my gun away and pull out a knife.
His face flushes with fear as he watches me spin it around in my hand.
“You tell Kincaid he took something from me once, and that’s the last time I’m going to let that happen. Now, I’m the one who is going to be doing the taking.”
In one swift move, I slice the blade down, cutting off two of his fingers and severing another.
When I release his wrist, he pulls his hand to his chest, crying out in pain while spit dribbles from his mouth and over the leather belt.
Tears flow from his eyes, and there’s something about watching him hurt that’s strangely calming.
The tension in my shoulders eases the slightest bit.
“Go back to Texas. If I see you again, I’ll keep cutting until you’ve got nothing left.”
With a jerk of the chin, I turn to leave. Soul and Venom follow. I’m not worried they’ll go to the cops or try to follow. We made our point.
When we shut the door behind us, an older woman a few doors down lifts off the railing. She draws her cigarette to her lips and takes a drag, scanning us over.
“Evening, fellas.” Smoke curls from her mouth with her words.
“Ma’am.” I nod.
A devious smirk crawls in the corner of her mouth as we walk past. Her eyes sweep the blood staining my T-shirt. But she doesn’t say anything about it or comment on the muffled screams coming from the room behind us. She nods at each of us as we walk by, taking another drag.
Her eyes stay on us the whole way down to our bikes.
“Gotta love Vegas.” I grab my helmet and swing my leg over my bike.
Venom looks up at the lady still watching us. She puts her cigarette out on the railing and winks at him before disappearing into her room.
“I think that was an invite.” I chuckle, and Venom flips me off.
Soul is too busy lost in his head to join in on the joke. He climbs onto his bike, eyeing me.
“What?”
“Your girl?” Soul’s eyebrow lifts. “You think I missed that?”
“It was a broad statement. My city. My girl. My shit that shouldn’t be fucked with in my territory.”
Venom chuckles, starting his bike.
“So you’re not still hung up on her?” Soul smirks.
“Fuck no,” I lie.
Soul rolls his eyes, not believing me for a second, but I refuse to acknowledge it. Willa made her choice. Made it perfectly clear where I stand. She wanted a boring life with the golden boy, and I was too much damn trouble.
It didn’t matter whether I’d shown her that’s not all I was. It didn’t matter that we’d been to hell and back, and I was the one at her side through the worst of it.
She chose him.
“Then strip club it is.” Venom grins.
Soul clears his throat and shakes his head. “Can’t. I’ve got some shit to do for Steel.”
“At two in the morning?” I challenge. “Fucking liar.”
“Guess that makes two of us.” He flips me off, not bothering to explain as he shoves his helmet on and peels away.
When he turns, his bike heads in the opposite direction from the clubhouse.
I could follow him and try to figure out where he’s going, but there’s no point.
Soul’s been acting weird since New Year’s.
To the point where I had Ghost track him once.
He’s been driving around the city, scouring every neighborhood for something.
But from what we can tell, he’s yet to meet up with anyone.
“And then there were two,” Venom says, watching Soul’s taillight disappear. “Unless you’re bailing as well?”
“Fuck it. I could use a shot or twelve.”
“I could use some tits in my face.” Venom grins, and I chuckle.
For the first time in a long time, the strip club is the last place I want to be right now. But maybe naked women are exactly what I need to take my mind off Willa. A few shots, a lap dance, anything to forget the dark-haired siren sleeping in my bed.
I’ve hung on her thread before, and she took a pair of scissors to it. I’m not doing that again.
“Incoming.” Kincaid knocks me in the shoulder, and I look up to see Willa walking toward us.