Chapter 27

Rocky

"Rocky, Hawk, Maverick, you're coming with me." Diesel stood in the middle of the clubhouse looking like he was ready for battle.

I stood first and slapped my palms together. "Where are we going?"

"Slate found the Red Skulls and they're still in town, holed up at the Sunset Inn on the old strip."

I frowned. "Shouldn't they have fucked off safe and sound back on their own turf by now, after what they did? Do they seriously not expect us to retaliate?"

Diesel grinned. "That's what we're going to find out. Strap up and be prepared to kick some ass." It was the first bit of happiness he'd shown in weeks, aside from when he was with Ellie and Leo. The light was back, that fire that said the MC really needed a fucking win and today we would get it.

We hopped on our bikes and rode in a diamond formation towards where the old Vegas strip used to be full of life and people. It wasn't a complete ghost town these days, but it also wasn't where the action was anymore.

Sunset Inn was a shitty hole in the wall motel, and judging by the foot traffic, there were also rooms rented by the hour. Hookers milled around, trying to entice men to get their dicks wet for a cheap rate. Dealers loitered just outside the motel grounds, eyeballing us and our bikes as we rolled into the parking lot. We spotted seven bikes at the rear of the building, which told us fuck all about which rooms they'd rented.

"Maverick, go sweet talk the clerk into giving up a room number," Diesel called out.

"A key would be better," I added.

"And if the clerk is a dude?" His blue eyes sparkled with amusement.

"Bat those long lashes even harder?" I laughed when Maverick flipped me off as he headed to the front door. This area of the lot was empty, likely purposefully so, and loud music sounded from the second floor. "Wanna check it out?"

Diesel nodded. "Stay here," he ordered Hawk. "In case any of these fuckers try to make a run for it."

Hawk smiled wide and cracked his knuckles. "Give me a fucking reason."

I followed Diesel up the cement stairs, the music growing louder and louder until it was just a loud thumping sound, and we stepped between two rooms.

Diesel motioned for me to peek inside one window while he looked inside the other. "Music is on, but this room is empty." Anger radiated off his broad shoulders.

"They're all in here with booze and drugs. And girls." My hands flexed into fists as I got a clearer look at the girls.

"What did I miss?" Maverick appeared behind us, smiling when Diesel and I aimed our guns at him.

"Nothing much, yet," Diesel said. "Party."

"With young girls. Jailbait young," I clarified.

"Oh, fuck that." Maverick turned towards that door, one hand reaching for the gun at his hip. "We're going in, right? I got the key." He held up a keycard.

"Nice work." I plucked the card from Maverick's hand. "Whose dick did you have to suck?"

He rolled his eyes. "Your mom's."

"Ha-ha."

"Shut the fuck up, ladies," Diesel murmured as he stood back, gun at the ready.

"I'm going in first." I slipped the card quietly into the slot, knowing they couldn't hear shit over the loud music and laughter. I yanked the card out and kicked the door open like a crazy motherfucker, gun held deceptively lazily in my hand. "What the fuck do we have here?" I smiled as seven sets of pissed off biker eyeballs lasered in on me, and I waved my gun casually as I gestured at them all. "Did my invite get lost in the mail?"

An ugly motherfucker with no hair at the back of the room stood up. "Who the fuck are you?"

My gun immediately zeroed in on his forehead. "The name's Rocky. Wanna test me and see if I'm as good as my namesake?"

The others all jumped to their feet angrily, while the three young girls cowered into a corner.

"Good afternoon, assholes." An older dude with black hair and a president patch held up his hands to stop his men from advancing. "What can I help you with?"

I smiled my most charming smile and gave him a mocking bow. "President, what a pleasure to meet you. Shut the fuck up for a second while I talk to the tweens you've got here with you."

With my gun now firmly trained on the Red Skulls president, I turned to the wide-eyed teens in the corner. "You three, get the fuck out now, comprende?"

One of the girls let out a whimper, and the three of them scrambled to grab their things and bolt out the door. I stepped back when none of the Skulls boys did anything to stop them, and I let them pass me as Diesel walked in, and the rest of us fell in a defensive position beside him. We all held our guns, but only I had mine up and trained on the president.

Diesel towered over their president by nearly a foot. Without even trying, he was an imposing figure in the small room, his anger only amplified it.

"I'm Boomer," the man said, and although he was shorter and fatter than Diesel, he looked our prez straight in the eyes without expression. "You're Diesel."

"So you know who I am, that answers my first question." Diesel considered the man for a moment, before shoving his gun away stepping forward. "My next question is why the fuck did you shoot up my clubhouse?"

Boomer stepped back, but Diesel lunged forward and grabbed him by his cut, easily lifting him off his feet.

"Oh. That." Boomer looked calm, even with his toes barely scraping the ground. "Look, it wasn't personal."

Diesel slammed him in the jaw with a powerful hook, and the older man fell to the ground, but I could see that nothing was hurt, other than perhaps his pride.

One of Boomer's men took a step forward, as if I would let him lay one fucking finger on my prez, my brother.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" I turned my gun to aim at the dumbass who dared walk towards Diesel.

"Back off, Rascal," Boomer sighed, as he stood. "We're good." He looked at Diesel. "Right?"

"For now," Diesel said. "Let's start with some answers and see where that gets us."

"Answers, yeah. Okay." Boomer smoothed down the flaps on his vest. "Like I said, it was nothing personal. We got no beef with the Steel Demons. In fact, I respect what you got going on down here. We're just guns for hire on this one. Nothing more."

"If we wanted you dead," Rascal, a weedy looking thing who looked like a coked-out rat, said with a crooked smile, "then you and your bitches would be dead."

"Rascal," Boomer snapped. "I said back down."

"Who hired you to shoot up my clubhouse?" Diesel asked.

"Don't know. But—" Boomer raised both his hands at Diesel's growl of warning. "Consider this, we stayed right here on your turf, instead of scampering away. Don't you want to know why?"

"Well damn, Boomer, consider us interested," Maverick said, when a short silence followed his statement as Diesel only glared.

"You guys got a good thing going here," Boomer said. "You're strong, and we don't want to start a war. Someone dropped ten grand on our doorstep with a message to spook you. That's just what we did. But we hung around after, because I personally don't wanna start shit with Steel Demons. So we didn't hit nobody at your joint, and here I am waiting for you, in case you were looking to chat."

"Bullshit," Maverick said, but Diesel raised a hand, and he quieted.

"That's it?" Diesel said. "You risked us killing you on the spot for ten grand?"

"Well, that and they sent us some, uh, photos of the compromising nature, feel me?"

My gaze landed on Diesel, asking him silently what our next move was.

"Our tech guy said the pictures were routed through a VIP or some shit," Boomer motioned to one of his men, who handed a phone to him.

"VPN," I corrected.

Boomer shrugged as if he didn't give a fuck about the details as he tossed the phone to Diesel. "That's the burner he sent. I'm supposed to toss it when we head outta town."

"Thanks." Diesel nodded and whipped out his phone, to text Slate I was sure, telling him to get his ass down to the motel ASAP. "You advertise that you do this kinda shit?"

Boomer shook his head. "Fuck no. Somehow, they knew."

Diesel dropped the phone in his pocket and grabbed Boomer's t-shirt again, this time letting his feet remain planted on the floor. "Shoot up my fucking clubhouse again and I'll put a bullet up your asshole. Got it?"

Boomer grinned. "Kinky."

So of course, Diesel was obliged to square him right in the jaw again.

"Ow," the older man said as he slowly stood once more. "Yeah, man, I understand. Thanks for not being a dick."

Diesel snorted and turned to exit. I stayed put, my gun still trained on the men in the room until the last second.

"You believe him?" I asked as we headed out to the lot.

"Yeah," Diesel said, staring ahead with a glare, but Mav and I remained on watch with our guns in our hands, in case anyone came running out after us hot. "But not so much that Slate won't be looking into this shit and confirming."

"We coulda just offed them now and gotten it over with," Maverick grumbled, but I sighed.

"Red Skulls are pretty strong."

"And we don't need a war on our hands right now, if we can avoid it," Diesel continued for me. "If Boomer was telling the truth, it's best to let this end where it is."

"He did have a set of balls on him though, you've gotta admit," I said.

We got on our bikes without an issue, and switched locations to wait for Slate. There was no need to ask for trouble, after all.

As we waited, I pulled out my phone to check it. I'd turned off the ringer because I didn't need any distractions, since I didn't know what we were walking into with the Red Skulls. I needed my mind clear and focused.

I noticed a missed call and then a text message, both from Peyton. "Well, shit."

"What's going on?" Diesel looked up with a frown.

"That asshole Zachary who bumped into Peyton at the jail and creeped her out? He showed up at her friend's house asking about her."

"D'you think that could be the married fucker boning her roommate?" Hawk asked.

I shook my head. "I didn't get a look at him, but Peyton says he's in his twenties, not fifties."

"Then he's probably just some loser drooling after her in class. Don't stress."

"She did mention that he might go to her college…"

"After we figure out who the fuck hired the Red Skulls," Diesel said, giving me a comforting slap on the back, "we'll figure her shit out, brother. I promise."

"And hey, Slate sent all our info to the cops, too," Mav added. "With any luck, they'll actually do their job and figure this shit out first, like they're supposed to."

What could I do other than nod? Other than accept that was the way of things for the foreseeable future? I couldn't ask the MC to put the safety of one person before the safety of many. Even if that one person was someone I was beginning to suspect I wouldn't be able to live without.

I'd just have to make sure to do a good enough job of protecting her myself.