Chapter 25 Goose
GOOSE
Two hours.
That’s all we had left. One more final hour, and then, we could all call it a night.
I’d help the guys shut things down, and then, I’d be able to head over to Presley’s place.
Mine reeked of paint and floor stain, so we opted to stay at her place.
I didn’t care where I rested my head as long as she was lying there next to me.
Yeah, I was into her.
I didn’t even mind admitting it.
I hadn’t exactly planned on it happening.
Not even sure you can plan something like this, but little by little, I found myself wanting to be with her more and more.
I’d seen it happen to Memphis and Seven, but I never thought it would happen to me.
But there I stood, staring at the fucking clock, wishing the minutes away.
It hadn’t been a bad night. There was a steady crowd rolling in and out, and for the most part, things were going pretty well. It was just a smooth night where everyone was staying in their lane and not showing out.
I thought we might actually make it a whole night without any major catastrophes until Rusty scanned the room and announced, “Quiet night.”
Memphis, Seven, and I all turned on him at once. “What the fuck, man?”
“What?” he scoffed. “I just said it was quiet.”
“You don’t say that shit out loud,” Memphis groaned. “You just fucking jinxed us.”
“Ah, come on. You don’t buy that ol’ wives' tale bullshit, do you?”
“Yeah, actually we do,” Seven snapped. “And you just fucking cursed us.”
Rusty laughed as he said, “There’s no such…”
His words trailed off when one of the girls shouted down front. We all turned, and that’s when we spotted the drunk asshole who decided to climb on stage with Milly and give her a hand with her number. He was swaying back and forth, and the only thing keeping him standing was the damn pole.
Memphis didn’t say a word. He just glared at Rusty.
“Okay. Okay.” Rusty held up his hands in surrender. “My bad. I’ll take care of it.”
“Damn straight you will,” Seven grumbled. “And be quick about it. Don’t want anyone else getting any ideas.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m on it.”
We all stood back and watched as Rusty charged the stage. The second he took Milly’s dance partner by the arm, he jerked back and said, “I was dancing with the pretty lady.”
“The dance is over.”
“But I paid.”
“Don’t give a fuck, man. You’re done.”
He started protesting as Rusty dragged him towards the front door. Rusty pulled it open and shoved the guy out, and the night air swallowed his final complaints. The door closed behind him, and Memphis grumbled, “I can’t believe he pulled that dumb shit. Quiet night. Fuck me. What was he thinking?”
“He wasn’t thinking. Hell, he rarely does.”
Memphis and I continued to watch the floor, keeping an eye out for any other assholes who might decide to cut loose. Thankfully, things had settled back into a steady rhythm, and all seemed good. Memphis used the opportunity to ask, “You heard anything from Nikolai or Sergei?”
“Nothing lately. Haven’t really had the chance to go by and see ‘em. What about you?”
“I kept aiming to get by there, but time keeps getting away from me.”
“Same.” I shook my head. “I gotta say, I kind of miss the snarky fucker.”
“Yeah, me, too.” Memphis chuckled as he said, “The man talked like everything was a personal insult.”
“Attitude with an accent.”
“Exactly, and don’t get me started on his driving.”
“I remember your fondness of his driving skills. I think I remember you mentioning a few death scares.”
“Without a doubt. Hell, he almost killed me on multiple occasions.”
“He was just keeping you on your toes.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
“We should swing by the casino soon. Make sure they’re not running the place into the ground.”
“No way in hell Sergei would ever let that happen.”
“You’re right about that.” His smile faded as he leaned in and asked, “You heard any mention about us expanding?”
“Another strip club across town, and possibly a tattoo shop?”
“Yeah, what do you think?”
“I’m all for it. More business means more money, but we’re stretched thin as it is. We start adding new locations, we’re gonna need more help.”
“Prospects?”
“Or start hiring outside help, and that includes security detail and everything in between.”
“Dad said the same thing.”
“He’s right. Growth is good as long as you keep a handle on it.”
We stood there for a moment, letting the conversation sink in and the reality of what expansion really meant for us. More opportunities were always good, but the added responsibility could do us in. Memphis finished off his beer before saying, “Still.. a tattoo shop could be badass.”
“You’re just looking for an excuse for more ink.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
Before I could answer, the front door swung open, and Smitty strolled in like he owned the place. He strolled over to us with a big smirk on his face. “Do not fret, my brothers. The party has arrived.”
For a split second, none of us said a word.
We all just stood there, staring at our prospect with a mix of relief and concern. He’d had a hard time recovering from his injuries, and for a moment there, we all thought we might lose him. But the little asshole had too much fight in him for that.
I walked over to him and slung my arm over his shoulder. “Glad you decided to get back to the land of the living.”
“You missed me, didn’t ya?”
Smitty reached over to the bar and grabbed a beer, chugging it like it was just another Saturday. Seeing him standing upright and smiling hit me harder than I expected. As happy as I was that he’d come to give a hand, I didn’t want him to jeopardize his recovery. “Blade know you here?”
“Hell, no. But he cleared me for light activity.”
“Perfect,” Seven chuckled as he motioned his head toward the back. “Get after it.”
Smitty nodded and made his way over to his post near the back bar, and one by one, we each took a moment to welcome him back. For some, it was a pat on the shoulder. For others, it was a knuckle scrub on top of the head or shared beer.
It was clear from the big smile plastered on his face that he was pleased to be back in the fold. Unfortunately, the smile wouldn’t last long. In fact, all the good vibes we were all feeling went flying out the window when we heard a loud bang coming from the back.
It sounded like metal on metal, and it was loud enough to rattle the walls. Before any of us could process what was happening, the front door blew open and four men filed in. Four more came in through the back.
“Nobody move!” one of the men shouted. “And that includes you Fury boys. You even think of doing something stupid, and I’ll end every fucking one of ya.”
I would’ve given anything to know who these assholes were, but they were masked and wearing all black, making it impossible to get a good look at them.
We’d faced a lot over the years. Rival clubs looking to make a statement.
Gangs thinking they were tougher than they were. Even a brush with the Russian mafia.
War was something I understood.
Eye for eye. Blood for blood.
Masked men with guns threatening our girls and our customers were more than your typical altercation.
This was a threat on a whole new level. I shot a look over at Memphis, and he nodded, confirming that he’d triggered the silent alarm that would signal to everyone at the clubhouse that there was trouble.
There was no doubt that they would come, armed and ready.
But it would take time—time I wasn’t sure we had.
The front pair moved fast. They had their weapons drawn and were sweeping the room with precision. The others circled the perimeter, securing all the exits.
Tight formation.
No wasted motion. This shit was rehearsed.
This was a hit. I just had no idea who was running the show.
My pulse steadied, but my brain was busy running every angle, every exit, and noting every face in the crowd. There was panic in everyone’s eyes. One wrong move, and this thing would turn into a massacre.
One of the men stepped on the stage. All eyes were on him as he aimed his weapon toward the ceiling and fired a single shot. Screams and shrills filled the room but quickly died when he fired a second shot and shouted, “Everyone on the floor. Keep your heads down, and nobody gets hurt.”
And just like that, the room folded in on itself.
Men slid out of their chairs and hit the floor, covering their heads with their arms and hands as they whispered pleading prayers. While some tried to put on a brave front, I could feel their fear radiating through the room.
The dancers clustered together near the corner of the stage. They’d abandoned their high heels and tassels, and they clung to each other as tears streamed down their faces.
I didn’t move.
None of the brothers did.
The asshole with the gun didn’t like that. He didn’t like it at all, so he aimed his gun at Memphis and shot three rounds at his feet. “I said on the fucking ground!”
Pissed, Memphis glanced over at me and Seven, and we gave him the nod, signaling to do what he said. It was degrading and angered me beyond anything I could imagine, but we had no choice.
So, we dropped to the floor with the others, kept our hands visible, and our mouths shut. Someone killed the music, and the silence that followed was deafening.
The Vault no longer felt like a strip club.
Instead, it was just a room full of people waiting to see who was going to survive the night. I wanted to believe that we’d all get through it, but I knew better.
This wasn’t the kind of attack where everyone left unscathed.
The lead gunman stepped forward, and his voice was muffled behind his mask as he said, “Now, everybody relax. Nobody’s gonna get hurt, unless someone tries to play hero and does something stupid.”
I glanced around the room, taking a moment to study each of the men. I searched for tattoos or any markings that might give some indication of who they might be. But they were too covered to pick up on anything.
They were literally doused in black, and I mean every inch of them.
Black shirts. Black pants. Black gloves. Black masks.
I started going through possible names in my head, starting with those who might have the balls to pull a stunt like this. There were countless gangs and MCs in the state. Some were rivals while others were considered allies. And out of all of them, there was one who stood out above all the others.
The Rebel Coyotes.
It made sense.
They were pissed at how we’d worked them over and left their bar in shambles. We’d gone there to send a message, and we sent it, loud and clear. We’d fucked them up pretty bad. Hell, it took them this long to get back on their feet, and now, they were out for revenge.
It would be just their style.
Hostile. Tactless. Public.
And this certainly checked all the marks.
One of the masked men hopped behind the bar. He handed Seven a bag and placed the barrel of his gun against his temple as he ordered, “Empty the registers.”
Every instinct I had screamed for me to move.
I wanted to jump these assholes and put an end to this bullshit before someone did something they couldn’t take back. But moving on impulse would get us all killed, so I stayed put, waiting for the right moment to make a move.
I wasn’t the only one watching and waiting. They were, too. They were watching us, waiting for one of us to try to stop them. We let them think they had all the control, but one of them would fuck up.
And when they did, we’d show them exactly who was in charge.
Seven opened the register and started shoving the cash into the bag. A second guy charged the second register, and he was shouting at Diamond to empty it as he waved his gun in her face. She was freaked out and crying, but she managed to comply.
One of the men in the back shouted, “Don’t forget the safe!”
The sound of his voice cut through the room like broken glass, and something about it sent a chill down my spine. It wasn’t what he said.
It was the tone
The cadence.
The familiarity of it settled heavy in my chest. I turned and watched him emerge from the hallway. A knot formed in my throat as I watched the sway of his shoulders and heard the thud of his heavy step.
And then, he stopped and scanned the crowd.
His stance. The way he held his head.
The twitch of his thumb against his index finger.
Motherfucker.