Velvet Ivy (The Nighthawks MC Book 1)
Page 9
“Will you still open the club?” asked Henry.
“He’s the one that convinced me to do it. He was more excited than I was, the last time we talked. I’ll do it for him.”
“He would have liked that,” said Henry. He rode with her back to the Palomino Ranch.
On Sunday at four am, Ivy packed what little she wanted to bring with her, got her last cash from Di, and headed off into the night. She had a reservation at a by-the-week place, —a place so vanilla and fake it bored Ivy to tears. She caught a full eight hours and met Ace for a very late breakfast at a pancake house. He barely said two words the entire meal.
Finally, he said, “I am so sorry I didn’t come down.”
“Couldn’t have made it any less horrible,” she said, “you could have called and told me he died, though.”
“No,” he said, “you needed your brothers and sisters around you. And you needed to not go off half-cocked. That fucking waste of human skin raises pit bulls and fights them.”
Ivy stared at him, “And no one felt the need to tell me this before? I would have taken him out for that alone.” She stared at him a moment.
“I know that look,” he said, “shit. You’ve got a plan.”
“I’m going to take all those fight-night fuckers down. And, put him away for that —what did you call him? Waste of human skin, Claw, down in such a way that it doesn’t blow back on any of us. But, we need to get Dirty Vegas ready to open first.”
“I’m not going to like this, am I?”
“Probably not,” said Ivy, “but I will. And, if this goes south, pin it on me. This can’t blow back on the club. Damia has a trust that can’t be broken.”
“Shut the fuck up!” said Ace, “we’re all in this together.”
Haze
The grief came in great, sucking waves. Ivy went through each day like a zombie, working on her checklists Ace had so carefully e-mailed to her just so she was so exhausted that she could sleep. Switching to working days was a pain in the ass.
Juan and Jorge got things together in record time. While they were waiting for the food and liquor licenses to go through, they went through everything. The great honking goblets that used to be used for couples’ drinks were saved for tip bowls. All the machinery worked. The cooks and some of their ex-coworkers were hired to come in and get rid of all the expired food and scrubbed every square millimeter to within an inch of its life. Juan built plinths for the dancing girls, wide enough so they wouldn’t fall, and heavy enough so that they wouldn’t move, even if they were knocked around by three-hundred-pound people or equipment. Ace and Ivy decided on the liquor they wanted, keeping the expensive bottles for VIPs or well-heeled tourists to sell and never replace.
Juan had already filled in the pit, and they had a lot more space for tables. They had a bitch of a time finding matching tables. Ivy eventually found high bar tables and put them in a circle around the dance floor. Juan and Jorge worked together, having the dance floor refinished.
Ivy found a music store that was going out of business in Reno; they rented a truck for the day and hauled back several guitars, a drum kit, several keyboards, a mixer, some great amps and speakers, and a hell of a lot of cables. They hired a guy to come down and install everything.
They found out when the next dogfight was. After they got their food license and just before their liquor license was due to clear, and while the etcher chased them out to do the windows. Then they took a ride out to get some waffles and bacon. They ate mechanically, going over checklists. They waited until they were in the parking lot to have their real talk.
“Opening night,” said Ivy, “is the night of the next dogfight.”
“How the fuck will we be two places at once?” asked Ace.
“We won’t. The dogfight is only the first step.”
“What the fuck?” asked Ace, “I was getting ready to get everyone in place for the dogfight. I thought we were trying to get him alone there.”
“He’s never alone, and he’ll have pit bulls there,” she said, “we may be able to get him alone in a john,” she said.
“Alright,” said Ace.
“But that makes it hard for me to be the one. And, I want it to be me. I want him to know exactly what is happening to him when it happens,” she smiled a deadly smile, “I will need some of us to appear to be in two places at once.”
“How the hell will we do that?” asked Ace, “woman, you’re not making sense. How, in the name of the gods of rock (that you’re having etched on the windows), are we to get from opening night to the dogfight in the middle of some pit in the middle of the fucking desert and back again without being missed?”
“You forget,” said Ivy, “I know a lot of people that know how to use wigs and makeup, and how to dress.”
“Hookers!” said Ace, “you know a lot of hookers.”
“We prefer the term ‘sex worker.’ Or ‘ladies of the evening.’
“Right.”
He glared at her as she spoke, “Most of my clients know my hair,” she said, “I doubt any of them know what color of eyes I have. And I just happen to know someone with my skin coloring, my height, and my hair color. If we want to get all exact, I can get her to use contacts and my makeup. And, she can be bought.”
Ace looked and listened intently. Ivy was simply amazing.
She smiled, and there was nothing nice in that shark's teeth grin, “I even gave her a hell of a lot of my clothes. I’m the one that taught her how to move, how to dance, how to dress, how to switch out drinks so that you don’t drink the booze. In the right light, (and this light will be all in neon blue), even you would mistake her for me!”
“What about me?” said Ace, “what’s my role?”
“You, my dear, are the ace in the hole. The lucky Ace!”
He glared at her, then smirked. “I always am,” he said.
Ivy’s eyes glared like steel. This was going to happen, come hell or high water. Non-fucking-negotiable.
“Keep going no matter what.”
Sweet Revenge Book 2
Ivy needs revenge on Claw. For taking down the love of her life, Arsenal. She's got the perfect plan... and it just needs to be executed at the prime time.
Gregory is in for a real shock. What kind of sadistic assholes do that stuff, anyway? Is it really possible for humanity to suck that damn much? When Gregory finds Elena and her daughter next door, the news is crimson-black. A black death would be better than what the guy did to them. He's decided he's going to be there no matter what.
Ivy and Ace continue to prosper at Dirty Rock, and Ace meets a new girl, the beautiful Lily. She's dark, stormy, and bites like a viper. She can sting like a bee too if he's not super-careful. He'll find that out... soon enough!
The Nighthawks have more than enough to deal with right now. Helping all the members out with one thing or another. Between organizing rides and working. But everyone's family, and that's how they roll, "Let the wind be always at your back; ride on and remember the fallen."
Sweet Revenge - The Nighthawks Motorcycle Club
About the Author
Bella Knight writes what she loves--romance, Bad Boy Bikers to Hot Rockstars to sexy Sports Romances love. She feels the love from her Las Vegas home from her rescue animals and her various love interests. She is constantly reading and writing, and she also leaves the animals with friends from time to time and hops on planes. She enjoys life to the fullest.
I adore my readers and love connecting with them socially.
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