Tico (Royal Bastards MC: Sheboygan Falls, WI #1)

Chapter 1

Tico

Cheers and shouts surround us as Taco—my VP and best friend, Wire—the club’s tech guy and resident hacker, Daemon—my Enforcer, and I walk towards the back of the warehouse. In the pits, Draco, one of mis hermanos (my brothers) is currently beating the shit out of his opponent, Hammer.

But they aren’t my focus.

No, my focus is on another one of our fighters who thought he could double cross me.

Thought he could double cross the club.

If he were a brother, he’d be getting a much more serious punishment, but this cabrón (bastard) is a civilian.

I push through the private doors at the back of the room and stalk down the hallways towards the lower offices. Daemon opens a door and Marco jumps in his seat behind the desk. His face pales as he takes us in, his beady little eyes darting around, looking for an escape that isn’t there.

Daemon makes his way around the desk, clasping a heavy hand on Marco’s shoulder, keeping him in his seat. Marco winces as Daemon squeezes his shoulder tightly and leans down so that his mouth is right next to Marco’s ear.

“Looks like you done fucked up, Marco,” Daemon tells him, almost giddily, and Marco’s face pales further.

“I…I don’t know w-what you’re talking about,” he stutters out.

I chuckle darkly as I step forward, placing my hands on the desk and leaning forward. “Now, there’s where you’re wrong, güevón (asshole). See, Wire, here was recently looking into the books and tracing transactions because the numbers weren’t adding up right, and guess what we found?”

I own our gym and I oversee everything in regards to our legal fights as well as our underground fights.

However, I also have people under me that I trust to help me schedule and promote the fights.

Marco is one of those people. The fact that he has betrayed me has me wanting to close ranks even more.

A bead of sweat rolls down Marco’s temple as his gaze nervously bounces between the three of us before landing back on me. He licks his lips as he tries to portray that he isn’t scared shitless. “W-What did you find?”

“You’ve been a busy little snake, haven’t you, Marco?

” I push off the desk and slowly walk around him.

I rest my hand heavily on his other shoulder and he flinches when I get in his face.

“You created a fake alias in the ledger, an alias that eventually accumulated fifty grand in debts from betting on the fights. For the past three months, you tried to bury those debts and created a second fake alias to line your pockets.” I cock an eyebrow at him.

“Did you really think we wouldn’t notice you stealing from us, güevón (asshole)?

The only reason why it took so long to confront you was the fact that we had to make sure no one else was in on your little operation. ”

Marco opens and closes his mouth a couple of times, but nothing comes out all the while, his gaze never leaving mine.

Daemon uses his distraction to loop a rope around him, tying him to his chair.

Marco strains against the rope and I wrap my hand around his throat squeezing it just enough to prove his life is in my fucking hands.

He stills instantly, his eyes wide and frantic.

“Wire, exactly how much has Marco stolen from us?” I ask, my voice cold with a hard, deadly edge to it.

“In total, almost three hundred grand.”

Marco’s eyes widen as I squeeze his throat tighter. I pull a knife from my boot and tap the flat edge against Marco’s cheek. Daemon finishes tying Marco up and secures his arms and hands to the arm of his chair.

“Where is my money, Marco?” my voice is calm but cold as ice and as sharp as Daemon’s daggers.

“I…I didn’t take any money. I wouldn’t steal from you, Tico. Someone’s setting me up. You know I wouldn’t betray you.”

I make a tsking sound and slam the blade of my knife through his hand, piercing it to the arm rest. His cries of pain bounce off the walls of the office, but no one will hear him down here. Not with the fight going on.

“I really don’t like fucking liars, güevón (asshole),” I tell him as he catches his breath, tears streaming down his face. I look over Marco’s shoulder at Daemon, then at Taco, tilting my head slightly. Both of them grin darkly in response.

Stepping back, I pull my blade out of Marco’s hand, twisting it slightly, and he screams again. Then, Marco’s body visibly relaxes as I release his throat, but his relief is short lived as Taco grabs a fistful of his hair and places his own knife to Marco’s throat.

Daemon steps to the side of Marco and pulls a knife from his boot. It’s a wicked, sharp four-inch blade with serrations along the spine of the blade. Daemon makes a show of inspecting it which makes the light dance along the sharp edge. I sneer as a pathetic whimper escapes Marco’s lips.

“You know, I really hate when people double cross the club,” Daemon says with exasperation but then he grins wickedly. “But that also means my little babies get to come out and play. And fuck are they excited to play today, Marco.”

Daemon stabs the blade through Marco’s hand, right where I’d stabbed him, but since his blade is bigger than mine, it cuts through more muscle and tissue.

Marco cries out, his body jerking from the pain.

Unfortunately for him, the movement causes Taco’s blade to cut slightly into his throat and a trickle of blood trails down his throat.

Daemon twists the knife, and Marco cries out again.

Pulling my brass knuckles that I always carry on me out of my pocket, I twirl them around my finger and Marco swallows thickly as his gaze fixates on them.

“As a fighter yourself in the pits, you should know the dangers of betting on other fights. Especially when you don’t have the funds to back up your bets.

Now, I want my money back, Marco. And if you can’t pay it, we’ll just have to find another way to get it back.

Either way, you’re fucked. We can’t let people think they can double cross the Royal Bastards now, can we?

And don’t try lying to me again—we know it was you because Wire traced it back to your bank accounts. All of them.”

Marco goes to shake his head but then winces when Taco’s knife cuts further into his throat.

“Now this is the last time I’m going to ask you this, güevón (asshole). Where is my money?”

Somehow, Marco’s face pales even further. “I… I don’t have it, Tico. I…I s-spent it.”

I growl in frustration, having already expected that answer even though I know it’s not entirely true.

Fucker’s got offshore accounts that will cover most of what he stole from me, but he had those in place before this fucking fiasco.

So why did he decide to double cross us?

And what all did he spend the money on after he cleared his debts?

Pulling back, Taco removes his blade from Marco’s neck and I slip on the brass knuckles before delivering a brutal punch to his jaw followed by a punch to his ribs and then his stomach.

Fury licks through my veins, but I rein it in.

I can’t have his jaw broken, or his ribs for that matter.

At least not yet. Straightening, I signal to Taco and Daemon before looking back down at Marco.

“Then everything of yours is now mine. You are now mine, güevón (asshole). You’ll fight in the pits until your debt is cleared.

And if you haven’t already figured it out, you’re fucking fired.

” My gaze flicks over to Daemon who gives me a chin lift.

“Teach our old friend, Marco, here a lesson but make sure he can still fight. His ass is Royal Bastards property now.”

He won’t fight well with his now damaged dominant hand, but I never said he was going to win said fights. And when he’s no longer of value to us, Daemon and Psyco, our Cleaner, will make him disappear without a trace.

Daemon grins wickedly in response to me and I turn, leaving the office.

Wire follows behind me. I look over at him as he shuts the door behind us, both of us ignoring Marco’s increasingly loud screams of pain.

Thankfully the roar of the crowd drowns out his cries.

Taco will stay behind with Daemon to help reinforce my orders on Marco.

“Take it all but find out where my money went. I want to know what that fucker was involved in and I don’t want it leading back to our door.”

“My programs are already tracing the money. I’ll let you know when I find out more, Prez,” he replies, clasping me on the shoulder before disappearing into the hallways.

He’ll use the back entrance since Wire’s never been one that’s comfortable in crowds.

I’m sure he’ll be heading back to his ‘cave’ after this as mis hermanos (my brothers) like to call the security hub he set up in the clubhouse.

Taking the stairs outside Marco’s office, I head towards my office on the second floor.

Taco’s and my offices are up here, each along a different wall, plus there’s a smaller room that we’ve just been using as storage for now.

There’s also a catwalk that goes around the perimeter of the building where we can watch the fights without being bothered by the crowds.

I pause outside my door and lean on the railing of the catwalk as I look down at the fight.

Draco’s fight is over and now Sandman, another of mis hermanos (my brothers), steps into the pits.

Normally mis hermanos (my brothers) don’t fight very often, but tensions have been high the past few months as we’ve been dealing with new threats to our supply lines, both legal and illegal.

There’s also the fact that I know we have another snake in our midst. Multiple books are off and Wire’s tracing everything to figure out who else is betraying us.

With a sigh, I unlock my office and head inside.

There’s been rumors circulating among the underground fighting circuit of some shady shit happening up north in the UP, meaning the upper peninsula of Michigan.

Normally I wouldn’t worry about a fighting ring out of state, but this one is just close enough that it’s worrisome.

Especially with the nature of the rumors that are tied to it.