TWENTY FIVE
P oison drove into chaos as she entered her territory. Storefronts displayed hues of orange and red as flames licked out of the windows. Cars were flipped on their sides, and the whole block was in disarray. People scrambled in every direction, trying to get away from the chaos.
Between the masses, she could spot her crew members helping the Normals to safety and trying to control the damages.
She parked her bike in the middle of the street as Skel came running up to her.
“What the fuck is going on?” she yelled over the sound of the mayhem.
“It’s the Dune Demons!” he screamed, reaching her, blood, sweat, and grime covering his face.
“Where are they?” she demanded, searching the flame-tinged darkness.
“Down Fourth,” he said, pointing down the street. “Seems like they’re moving as a unit to cause havoc on the territory.”
“Has any other crew stepped in?” Her mind immediately went into strategizing mode as she and Skel rushed down the street.
“No,” he shook his head. “It seems like this is a singular crew attempt to gain territory.”
“And their leader?” she asked, fearing the answer.
Guilt tightened her chest. She had brought this to her people. It was her morally fucked up past that caused them suffering, and she’ll be damned if she didn’t do something about it.
“We got one locked up in a cage at The Grave Bar. They seemed to have skipped it entirely. It’s the only place they seemed to have skipped. But according to him, neither their leader nor second is with them.”
She nodded. Scorpion was a fucking coward for sending his crew without him.
“Who’s got eyes on the captive?”
“Cat, Marty, and his shotgun. He’s secured.”
Her mind raced as her heart pounded in her ears, but she forced herself to stay calm. She had to. She couldn’t lose her shit for the sake of her crew and her territory.
“How many are there?” she asked.
“They’re about twenty,” Skel answered, and she signaled her crew members she could spot to follow.
They all fell into step behind her as they marched down the street, ready to face the Dune Demons.
“We can take them, but we’ll need everyone. We can help the Normals once this shit is dealt with.”
Skel nodded and turned to face their crew, barking orders to find everyone in the chaos. Poison pulled out her phone and sent an alert to everyone through the encrypted app she coded for them. She was about to put her phone back into her pocket when a text message caught her eye.
I’m coming for you
“Son of a…” she mumbled and hit the call button.
He had gone too far. She needed to put an end to it once and for all.
The phone started ringing—once, twice, again, and again—but no one picked up. By the time the voicemail tone beeped, she was biting down venom.
“You absolute fucking coward!” she screamed. “Come at me if you fucking want, but leave my people the fuck alone. They did nothing to you.”
Shoving her phone back into her pocket, she took the last corner into the heart of the chaos. About twenty Dune Demons trashed everything down the street, leaving devastation in their wake. They cheered and howled as they set another building on fire, throwing a flaming bottle through the window.
“That’s enough!” she roared, coming to a stop with her whole crew behind her.
Every Dune Demon turned to her, sickening smiles contorting their faces. She could practically feel every spine behind her stiffening as they all braced themselves for the inevitable battle ahead.
One of them stepped forward, his oily hair plastered to his scalp, and his face reminded her of a ferret.
“It is enough when we say it’s enough,” he sneered, displaying a sinister smile with missing teeth.
He stuck a lighter to lit another Molotov cocktail.
“This is my territory,” she growled. “And you do not get to make the rules here,” she spat, watching the flames of the lighter move too close to the Molotov cocktail. “You think you can just waltz in and take what you want? Think again, sweetie.”
Poison’s jaw clenched. She refused to show any sign of fear in front of these thugs.
“I’m not here to negotiate. Leave now, or face the consequences,” she warned, her voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through her veins.
The Dune Demons chuckled menacingly, the ferret taking a step closer.
“You don’t scare us, little girl. We have our orders.”
He lit the fuse and threw the flaming bottle across the street, and Poison watched in horror as another building went up in flames.
“Orders from a coward of a leader who isn’t here to face me himself,” she snapped, knowing she was playing with fire as a literal growl erupted from the ferret’s chest.
“You do not get to speak about our leader with such disrespect. This territory is his now.”
“He’ll have to pry it from my cold, dead hands,” she warned, balancing her weight evenly on her feet.
She would press the wrong buttons any moment, and they’d come charging.
“That can be arranged,” the ferret sneered. “Our leader has special plans for you, bitch.”
“Tell him I’m waiting for him. If he is man enough to face me.”
The Dune Demons hissed in unison. They were restless, and she could see it. They shifted on their feet, waiting for the command to attack. The ferret turned back at the rest of the Demons, and with a sneer, he ordered: “Show ‘em hell.”
They charged, but Poison held back her crew. Let them come to them. Her muscles coiled as she crouched, waiting for the ferret to reach her, bracing for impact, but they stopped, the roar of an engine interrupting their cries.
A Kawasaki H2R skidded to a halt a mere arm’s length between Poison and the Dune Demons. Her heart
jumped to her throat, but it was silver, not black chrome.
Gunnar jumped off his bike and faced his crew. Poison stepped forward and flanked his right. After this, she would have to explain everything to her crew.
“Back the fuck up,” he growled, his voice thundering through the street.
Relief swelled in her chest, finally allowing her to breathe as the Demons seemed to simmer down.
“We have our orders,” the ferret barked.
“And I’m giving you new orders,” Gunnar thundered. “Step the fuck down and return home.”
His command was final, and even the most cold-hearted person would buckle under his stare, but the ferret didn’t retreat. Instead, he spat on the ground before Gunnar.
“Our orders come from Scorpion, not his second-in-command lap dog.”
Poison couldn’t help but stare in disbelief at the balls on that one. She would rip his throat out if he was in her crew and spoke to Skel that way. Hell, Skel would skin him alive himself.
Gunnar went as still as a statue, his breath metered for a moment. He blew out his breath in a long whistle, shaking his head before looking the ferret dead in the eyes.
“As your second lieutenant, I order you to leave this territory and return home. We have no quarrels with the Silver Serpents and do not wish to change that.”
Poison didn’t know who was more stunned, her or
the Dune Demons.
“Silver Serpents?” Sher heard a Demon whisper, and they scattered like startled deer.
She turned to her crew, looking at Skel, who had a question mark between his brows mirroring her own.
“Go and help the Normals. Call reinforcement if needed. All the Don needs to know is that someone tried to threaten my reign,” she ordered, but Skel hesitated.
“I’ll explain everything. I promise.” Skel nodded, taking one last look at the intruder beside her, putting the need of the Normals before his own questions. “First, get everyone to safety.”
Skel turned, signaling the crew to follow, and Poison waited for them to be out of earshot.
Turning to Gunner, she slammed her palms into his chest, knocking him backward.
“Second lieutenant?” Shock laced her tone. “You’re the fucking second lieutenant of the Japanese Mafia?”
She shoved him again, but he caught her wrists, and she recoiled from his touch. Pulling her hands from his, she stepped back.
“It’s not something we like to advertise,” he grunted, looking away.
For a moment, she imagined she saw hurt registering in his eyes, but she blinked, and it was gone.
“That means…” She couldn’t finish the thought,
but Gunnar nodded.
“Scorpion is first lieutenant,” he finished for her.
“Of the fucking Japanese Mafia?” She couldn’t believe it.
She dropped down on her haunches, rubbing a hand over her face. She had the first lieutenant of the Japanese Mafia out for her blood. She had killed the brother of the first lieutenant. Fuck. She was in so much shit. If the Don found out about this, she was done for. He’d see her as a traitor and deal with her accordingly.
Gunnar peered down at her, and she couldn’t stand the pity in his eyes.
“Did the boss sanction this attack?” she asked, fearing the answer, but to her surprise, Gunnar shook his head.
“No. Scorpion completely went off the books here. I didn’t even know this was going down until I tried to call a meeting after you brought him home,” he explained. “Who was that guy that was with you, by the way? Already got a rebound?”
She jumped to her feet. She wanted to punch him again, but fear gripped her throat as Reaper’s words echoed in her mind: ‘ Gavin is unavailable right now .’
“I need to go,” she blurted and turned away, but Gunnar grabbed her wrist.
“It’s not safe for you out there alone,” he murmured, and something in her heart tightened.
“I need to check up on a friend.” Her chin dipped as the all too familiar voices turned up their volume, threatening to consume her.
“Need me to come with you?”
She stared at the man before her, his hand on her wrist. And he dropped it to his side. It wasn’t Gunnar. It couldn’t be. She didn’t believe in conspiracy theories but was starting to believe in body doubles. Gone was the cold-hearted reptile. She shook her head. No, it was only an illusion casted by the dancing flames across his face. The reptile didn’t care what happened to her.
“Just keep your men out of my territory. We have enough damage as it is.”
“Can I get you some hands to help clean up?” he offered. “It’s the least I can do.”
Poison did a double take, she had to think it over for a moment. “Rather not,” She sighed. “I already told my second to get the Don involved. I don’t need the mob and Japanese to have a pissing contest in my territory.”
Gunnar chuckled and nodded. “I get it. But my offer stands.”
“Give me your phone,” she demanded, holding out the palm of her hand.
Looking up at him again, she wasn’t sure how to process the fact that the reptile knew how to smile. Was he drunk?
Without any sign of protest, he handed it over after unlocking it with his fingerprint. She punched in her number and waited for her phone to ring. She hung up and handed it back to him.
“In case I need to get a hold of you.” She shrugged
and pulled out her phone, saving his number.
She shoved her phone back into her pocket, her fingers grazing over the napkin Gavin had stuffed into her hand. Retrieving it, she stared at his number.
“Go check up on your friend,” Gunnar ushered.
“You might want to get your man from the Grave bar. I’ll let Marty know he can release him.”
Gunnar cocked a brow but thanked her. With a grateful smile, she turned on her heel and sprinted to her bike. She only stopped long enough at her bike to text Cat to release the captive and let Skel know she’ll be back in a bit. She was about to get onto her bike when she decided to call Gavin first, hoping Reaper was bluffing. She dialed the number, but it went straight to voicemail.
“Hi, Gav. This is Minke. Please let me know as soon as you get this.” She hung up and got on her bike.
The bike’s engine roared to life, and she sped away, heading back to the diner.
Her heart sank when she saw the khaki Jeep parked down the block. She hated herself for being so fixated on the drunk bastards that she hadn’t noticed it. Gavin had left the diner just after eleven. She checked her watch—that was four hours ago.