Chapter 13

13

ROM

C ash wiped the blood off his knife before handing it to one of our prospects. He was one of Dash’s employees, so he’d been tasked with “cleaning” The Block.

"He doesn’t know where they’re holing up,” he grunted. “But he gave us all kinds of shit about the internal workings of the club.” His furious eyes met mine, and he jerked his head toward the room he’d just exited. “He’s all yours.”

Cash’s old lady, Karina—who happened to be the dirty judge’s daughter—had been the real target, so I’d given him first crack at our captive. However, since my woman was hit, it was my right to kill the fucker.

Mac leaned against the wall outside the room when I came back out half an hour later. His arms were folded over his chest, one ankle crossed over the other, and his face was blank. This was one of the reasons he was so intimidating to anyone besides our MC family. He was impossible to read, his expression giving nothing away. He looked relaxed when he was perfectly alert.

But his reputation for being ruthless and lethal was a reality. Even if Bridget was around when he was with someone besides a brother, she played the docile, subservient old lady, reinforcing his image. And everyone knew he expected the same of his ranks.

Which was why we rarely had another MC challenge us. It was a death sentence.

The Devil’s Jesters we’re either stupid as fuck to think they could take us on, or they had a death wish.

The prospect was also waiting in the hallway and disappeared into the room, shutting the door behind him.

Mac pushed away from the wall and jerked his head toward the open room at the front of the building, where several of my brothers gathered.

“Found ’em,” he said gruffly.

Dax was handing out clean—unregistered and wiped of evidence—weapons from a small armory to the left of the hallway entrance.

“They were laying low at one of their strip clubs.”

“But the prez controls their funds, and he had to come out of hiding to take a delivery of cash and pay on some of their debts,” Scout chimed in as he tucked a handgun in a holster under his cut.

“Debts?”

Grey’s grin was dark and anything but amused when he responded. “Fucker owes people who don’t fuck around with people who don’t pay. They’ll just kill you and go after your family or anyone connected to you who can pay. We take him and the VP out, the club will probably break up and scatter.”

“The men they owe won’t go after the members?” I asked as I accepted a couple of weapons from Dax.

“Nah. The only ones with access to the cash are the prez and VP. Even the treasurer was kept on a leash.”

I rolled my eyes and grunted, “Fuck of a brotherhood.”

“Not for long,” Mac growled.

Grey chuckled. “Besides, I already moved all their assets into an offshore account and sent the information to the guys they owe. Not gonna tell the patches that, though.”

“Scout, take Dax and Phantom and whoever else you need to open the clubhouse for us,” Mac ordered.

“Rom, you come with me, Patriot, Cash, Grey, and Knight. Once we’re in, other than handling any guards or anyone who gets in our way, we find the assholes in charge, take care of them, only them , and get out. Understood?”

Patriot grumbled a little but shut up when Mac tossed him a warning glance. I could understand why Patriot was unhappy with that order. The MC mistreated his old lady when she’d lived with her sister, who belonged to a Devil’s Jester.

“We’re cleanin’ up this fucking mess, not makin’ a new one,” Mac barked.

Patriot reluctantly nodded.

We all dispersed and headed to our bikes, ready to have this bullshit finished.

The Devil’s Jesters clubhouse was in an old five-story office building in a run-down part of their town. It looked unassuming, but it was heavily fortified.

However, once Grey took down the security system, Phantom slipped inside the back to do some recon while Scout set up on the roof of the building across the street. He couldn't see in the blacked-out windows, but he had thermal imaging goggles, and we each had a patch that Grey developed, putting off a glow in a different color so that Scout could distinguish between his brothers and the Jesters.

“Seems people are already jumping ship,” Phantom murmured in our earpieces. “It’s a fucking ghost town. Security is sparse. Two on the front, two on the back—strike that, none on the back, and a half dozen gathered on the top floor, in a room with a door to what I’m betting is the prez’s office.”

“Handle it.” Mac gestured for me to move in, so I knocked on the front door. When it swung open, I kicked the person in the stomach, sending them flying backward so I could move in. I needed to be out of sight before I raised my gun and put a bullet between their eyes.

A glance to my right showed Patriot twisting the other guard’s neck and dropping him on the ground.

The rest of the guys with us stepped inside, and Grey, who’d taken up the rear, shut it behind us. Phantom waited at the bottom of the stairs, and he gestured for us to follow him. His years as a spook had given him the ability to fade into the background, which made him perfect for recon. But he didn’t skip the action, so when we encountered a patch coming out of a bedroom on the second floor, his arm shot out, and the guy crumpled to the floor.

On the fourth level, I caught sight of someone in my peripheral vision and waited until they lunged to turn around, shoving his shoulder so he stumbled to the side. When his back was to me, I curled my arm around his neck and snapped his head to the side. After hearing the satisfying crack, I tossed him out of the way and followed the others up to the last level.

“Wait,” Scout said in our ears.

Then we heard the sound of breaking glass and several loud thumps.

“Clear,” he rumbled.

At the top of the staircase, I rolled my eyes when I saw the bodies littering the ground, each sporting a small hole in their forehead. “Show-off,” I grunted.

“Making sure I haven’t lost my touch,” he corrected smugly.

“That’s not what Cat says,” Knight drawled, making a few of us chuckle.

Before Scout could reply, Mac snarled, “Shut the fuck up and focus.”

I was surprised that the sound of the glass breaking hadn't brought the prez out of the room to investigate, but I shouldn’t have been. He pretended to be tough, but really, he was a scared little bitch.

A scream ripped through the quiet, coming from a closed door on the left side of the room. Cash stomped over to it, and with one kick, he splinted the wood and knocked it off its hinges.

Another scream rang out again, followed by several grunts, and Cash rolled his eyes.

Cash sighed and drawled, “Your acting needs work. Those fake screams aren’t fooling anybody. Now, stop bouncing on his tiny dick and get out.”

“What the fuck?” a deep voice roared.

Cash aimed his gun and snarled, “Now.”

Two seconds later, a naked woman came flying out of the room, and I stepped back to give her plenty of space to dart down the stairs.

Grey joined Cash and snorted as he looked into the room. “I thought you were joking about the tiny dick.” Then he shook his head. “Seriously, man. You really thought she wasn’t faking it? Dumbass.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Knight murmured. “You two want to stop gossiping about some asshole’s cock and focus on the fucking VP and prez?”

“Oh, right.” Cash jerked his chin toward the room. “Found number two.”

Patriot scowled and stomped over. “You wanna live, tell us where your president is.”

“Fuck you,” the man snapped.

“Not with that thing,” Grey snorted again. Patriot tossed an annoyed glare at Grey, but he just shrugged. “Make fun of him or kill him, you pick.”

Frustrated with the holdup, I crossed the room and shoved Patriot out of the way. Walking inside, I vaguely noted that Grey hadn’t been exaggerating but didn’t break my concentration from my goal. At the side of the bed, I raised my gun and aimed it at his stomach. “Every time I ask and you don’t give me the answer I want, gonna put a bullet in a part of your body that causes a fuck ton of pain but won’t kill you. That how you wanna die, asshole?”

The prick pressed his lips together and glanced around, seeing that he was clearly outnumbered. “You won’t kill me if I tell you?”

“Depends on whether the information is accurate. And cover that shit up, motherfucker. I don’t need to be staring at your junk.”

“He’s in the basement panic room,” he answered as he pulled the sheet over his lap. “The boys were guarding me and making it look like the prez was in his office.”

“The panic room need a combination to open it?” Grey asked.

The VP nodded. “I don’t know it. I swear.”

Grey didn’t respond, he whipped out his phone and disappeared.

Several sets of feet stomped down the stairs while Cash and I waited, our guns trained on the VP.

After a few minutes, Patriot murmured in our ears. “Done. Their prez won’t be a problem anymore.”

“Guess you weren’t lyin’,” I muttered. “Too bad.”

The VP’s gaze turned wary. “Why?”

I shrugged and smirked. “I was.”

There were two muffled sounds of a shot from a silencer, then the VP fell backward onto the bed, the holes in his forehead dribbling with blood.

“Let’s get the fuck out of this hellhole,” I grunted. “I need to get back to my woman.”

“Was it really that small?” Scout piped up.

I rolled my eyes as I made my way to the stairs, more than ready to go home.

Patch waited for me when I rolled into a parking spot in front of the garage. I dismounted quickly and tore my helmet off my head.

“What’s wrong? Did you find something? Fuck. I can’t lose her?—”

“Rom!” Patch growled, interrupting my runaway thoughts. “She’s fine. More than fine. Honestly, I already suspected what I found in her blood work.”

“Spit it out, bro,” I snarled.

He grinned, then clapped me on the shoulder, confusing me. “Congratulations, man. You knocked up your woman.”