14. Kevlar
Kevlar
Laundry Land, the laundromat that housed a casino in the basement, was the base of operations for the Dixie Mafia.
It lived within a strip mall, nestled between a beauty salon and a coffee shop that, if memory served him correctly, served the best pastries in Oklahoma City. He could go for a croissant.
“Kelsey,” an annoyed, gruff voice sounded to his left, and instinctively he turned toward it.
There she was, wearing jeans that hugged every one of her generous curves and a black T-shirt with a deep V, displaying her ample cleavage.
Her outfit wasn’t anything fancy, merely a run-of-the-mill ensemble, but holy hell, did it look good on her.
His mouth watered, and his dick sprang to attention.
Unfortunately, behind her was a pissed-off Scorpion.
His eye twitched.
As she approached, with a hint of fear in her crystal-blue eyes, he lifted his arm. “Kitten,” he greeted as she nestled into the sanctuary he offered.
She gave him a peck on his cheek. “I’m so sorry,” she murmured so only he could hear.
He curled his arm around her possessively and pulled her tighter against him before shifting his focus to the angry biker charging at them.
“Scorpion.” Kevlar acknowledged the man who stopped in front of his bike. “I thought we discussed this last night.”
The man with Yogi stitched on the patch of his cut glared. “Get your hands off her.”
“She seems to like them right where they are,” Kevlar taunted. He was fond of it as well. He’d be damned if this shit stain ordered him around.
“Don’t make this worse than it needs to be,” Yogi warned as he moved his cut to the side, revealing a Glock nestled in a hidden holster.
Was Kevlar supposed to be impressed? Intimidated? Either way, if shit was about to go down, he needed to get Kelsey out of the line of fire.
He smirked and shifted his attention to her. “Go get us some coffee, Kitten.”
Casting a cautious glance in Yogi’s direction, she nodded before she scurried around his bike. With hurried steps, she got to the door of the caffeine establishment and disappeared inside.
Kevlar’s attention returned to the Scorpion flashing his piece. He sighed and cracked his neck. “It’s cute that you think you can waltz into my hometown and claim it.”
“It’s done,” Yogi declared.
Kevlar glanced at his brother and then back at Yogi with a bit of a chuckle. Shaking his head, he sighed.
“Nah. OKC wants you as much as that woman does.” Kevlar gestured to the coffee shop. “And in case you’re a bit slow, she isn’t interested. Neither is this town.”
Yogi’s gaze shifted to where Kevlar had pointed and then back. A murderous grin spread across his face. “We’ll see about that.”
Kevlar clenched his jaw. Whether the Scorpion meant Kelsey or Oklahoma City, it didn’t matter. Both of them were off-limits. This town and that woman were the property of the Royal Bastards Motorcycle Club. Yogi and his band of merry misfits would do well to get that through their thick skulls.
Scuffing his boots on the concrete, Yogi turned and strolled back to his Harley-Davidson Nightster—which had definitely seen better days. A man who didn’t take care of his bike didn’t deserve to have it.
Like the jackass he was, Yogi revved the engine of the motorcycle repeatedly, as though that would somehow intimidate Kevlar, before he tore out of the parking lot. This problem wasn’t going away anytime soon. They needed numbers if they were going to stand a chance against the Scorpions.
Former brothers were in the area, but he didn’t have time to recruit them all with a territorial war breathing down his neck. He should’ve come home with more men than just his brother.
Or not. He had yet to see what the Bloody Scorpions had brought to town. So far, he’d only encountered Yogi. He could be alone.
The possibility that the Scorpions were at the same stage Kevlar was, scouting, was extremely likely.
Their setup could be as nonexistent as Kevlar’s.
Their numbers might be equal. Casting his attention down the line of stores, he settled on the laundromat.
If anyone had an idea how many Scorpions were in town, it would be another criminal syndicate.
Thankfully, he was there to talk to one of them.
Hopefully, he had more associates in town than the Bloody Scorpions did.
Considering the Dixie Mafia had both his sisters under their protection, he was willing to bet they’d be more ally than foe.
He could really use some friends right now.
The last thing he wanted was to concede his home turf to the Bloody Scorpions.
Going back to Jameson with his tail between his legs was not an option.
Turning toward his brother, he dismounted his bike. “You ready to do this?”
“Get coffee?” Kid asked.
He peered at him, confused. How the hell had his brother forgotten why they had come? The potent scent of freshly brewed caffeine blessed his nose as well, but they couldn’t let that distract them. They had bigger fish to fry.
“You told her…” Kid thumbed toward the coffee shop.
Oh. Right. Too bad he didn’t have time for Kelsey right now. Kevlar shook his head. “She’ll figure it out. We have a meeting to get to.”
Kid arched a brow as he got off his bike.
His brother appeared to have a bunch of thoughts he wasn’t verbalizing. Good. Kevlar didn’t want to hear them. They had much more pressing business to attend to. Kelsey and whatever Kid’s opinion about their situation could wait.
They needed to establish their alliance with the Dixie Mafia. They didn’t have numbers. If they wanted to claim this town and run the Bloody Scorpions out of it, they required allies.