“I have no say in this? I’m not running, just because he wants to have a pissing contest, Sting.” Huffing, Durty crossed her arms over her chest, looking out the window.
“Actually, no. You don’t have any say. That order came down from your president. If you want to argue with her, be my guest.”
“I don’t understand why some men can’t put their dicks away and let shit go.”
His bark of laughter was unexpected. “Maybe he wants to prove his cock is bigger than yours?”
“Oh, sweet Jesus.” Durty burst out laughing, waving her hand in front of her face, fanning herself, to try and get more air to breathe in. “Inferiority complex much?”
“Hey, you try and be a guy, having to try and stand up around a bunch of women who ride just as hard as men, and can box just as good, shoot right on target, and still be feminine and shit. That’s a tough act to follow.”
“Yeah, well. It’s not as easy as it looks. I wish he’d back off though. What he did today was unnecessary, and kind of rude as hell.”
“The Warriors aren’t known for playing nice, Durty.”
She stuck her tongue out at Sting, going back into pout-mode. “No shit, Sherlock. But it’s called tact and they’re in serious need of some.”
Chapter 32
I Stand Alone
It was a sweltering night in the Mojave Desert. The absence of wind wasn’t helping. The air was dense, making it difficult to breathe, let alone think.
This was one of those nights when Lace could feel something wasn’t copasetic. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but the knots in her stomach was an indication shit wasn’t right. Restless and irritable, she paced in front of Steel as they waited for the next fight to begin at the now aptly named KO Corral.
Situational awareness was heightened, knowing the other shoe was going to drop. Lace paused long enough to glare at Steel, before she stomped past him.
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know.” A bare shoulder rose up in affirmation to her answer.
Steel scratched lightly at the stubble on his cheek. “Something’s got your panties in a twist.”
Lace came to a stop, enjoying the circulation of air from one of the high velocity fans blowing in her direction. “I wish I knew what it was, but it’s like,” she turned her head to look at Steel. “It’s like I can feel something in the air. The very weight of it, almost like a warning something bad is going to happen.”
Lips puckered as Steel stared back at Lace, his hand finally dropping to pat the seat next to him. “I experienced that a couple of times.”
Lace’s brows shot up in surprise. Steel didn’t talk much about ‘gut instinct’. He didn’t believe in it, or so he said. He tended to call it being aware of your surroundings. Plopping down on the chair next to him, Lace let out a deep pent up breath. “Really?”
“Mmhmn.” He nodded, patting her thigh.
“And?” Lace trailed her fingers over the top of his hand, glancing around the warehouse then back to Steel. “Don’t leave a girl hanging.”
Steel chuckled, giving her thigh a squeeze before he answered. “It’s not that big of a deal really. I was having these really vivid dreams; unexplainable. For days. After a week of it, I finally went to a local psychic.”
“Why do I find that hard to believe?” Lace shoved him at his shoulder.
“Right. Think about it. A MC President goes to a psychologist? Rev would skin me alive. Psychic? He’d accept.” Brows furrowed, he looked back to Lace. “Do you want to hear this or not?”
“Yes.” Lace bit the inside of her lip to keep from laughing at how he was acting, though he did have a point about Rev.
“So, I went to go see this psychic and she asked me what my dreams were about. I explained I’d been dreaming about being a tepee one night, then a wigwam the next. This had been going on for a week. It was driving me crazy. And you know what she told me? That it was obvious that I was two tents.”
Lace stared at Steel.
She wasn’t sure if she wanted to smack him or kiss him after the bout of laughter that erupted from her. “That was a good one, Henny.” Rolling her bottom lip between her teeth, running her fingers through her pink spikes, hoping he didn’t catch the slip of his pet name she normally reserved for intimate moments with him. No, not the sexual intimate moments, but the sweet, cuddling, joking, just being Tilly and Hank moments.
“I try.” He smiled, chucking her under her chin. “Nothing is going to happen. It just feels that way because it’s been quiet, except for the showboating Vader pulled yesterday. Durty,” he waved his hand at her Road Captain, who was currently on a makeshift stage, talking to their DJ. “is on edge because of her father’s funeral tomorrow which is putting you on edge as well. Cause and effect, babe.”
“I guess.” Lace sighed again, leaning forward to place her elbows on her knees, hands wringing together as she watched the people around her.
It was busier than normal; it’d seem word had got out about the last event. People were blood thirsty, and wanted a piece of that action tonight. It wasn’t every fight night you got to witness a melee happen. The betting was off the chain, just as Sting predicted it would be. The girls, along with Butcher, were in the concessions stand, selling their little hearts out. He was offering steak po’boys as well as pulled pork sandwiches. There was even a plate called Redneck Nachos, which consisted of some chips and pork ‘n beans concoction that was selling like hot cakes.
Steel had also dished out some cash to help spruce up the old barn, giving it a more professional feel, but still keeping the old rustic vibe the girls loved. Instead of having the DJ’s truck inside, he had a small stage built for the sound system and Durty to announce from. The bleachers weren’t only updated, but two more sets were added to the fray, allowing more of an audience to partake in the festivities.
Above all, Lace was glad to see the stronger presence of the Roja in the building. Steel had his crew there, not only bouncing, but manning the betting area as well. Ripcurl and Loco wandered around with Xander, who was on point with making sure the patrons were policed in a proper manner.
Sting hovered near Durty, which caused a snicker to pass Lace’s lips. “I never thought Durty would settle back down.”
“Hmm?” Steel glanced over to where Lace was pointing, Sting playfully pushing Durty. “Yeah, well, Sting seems to be very persuasive.”
“Guess what time it is,” Durty called out on the mic, capturing the spectators’ attention.
The roar of the crowd was near deafening when Durty paused. Lace nodded in appreciation of the spectacle before her. The guys drew some of the crowd in, as did the last event; but adding the betting was exactly what they seemed to have needed.
“It’s time for open challenges! Do we have any takers tonight?” Durty paused once more.
“I fucking knew it,” Lace growled through clenched teeth. Coming out of the crowd was a face she didn’t want to see—Vader.
“What the hell?” Steel sighed, pushing up from the chair he was sitting in.
Lace was quick to follow. There was no reason for him being here. He’d been warned about messing with them. Guess it was time for Jenny to get her memory back. She could see Durty’s face, confused as she glimpsed toward Lace in silent question.
Vader snatched the mic from Durty, hopping down from the stage, he swept his arm wide. “I’ve got a challenge. You see, the owner of this place has something of mine, and I want it back. Fuck the money, I want blood.”
“I’m going to kill him,” Lace spat out as Vader aired their dirty laundry for several hundred civilians to witness.
“Lace, calm down,” Steel’s voice held a warning to it she knew all too well.
“I’m done with being calm. No more fucking games. We end this. Tonight.”
Lace pushed through the crowd toward the hay bale ring, her anger to the boiling point. The heat was already making it diffi
cult to breathe, but add the shaking and extra breaths from the adrenaline? It was now ten times worse. All she saw was red, imagining her hands around Vader’s throat, choking the life out of him.
“That’s right Lace. Come on out, or are you chicken?”
Vader’s laughter echoed through the barn, setting Lace’s teeth on edge. She was going to kill the son of a bitch. He’d done enough damage, but no more. It was over.
“You have the balls to call me out like that? To show your face here?” Lace hissed, invading Vader’s personal space, keeping them nose to nose. Fists clenched at her side, unaware of the trickle of sweat that rolled down her back, emphasizing the heat index, in and outside the barn.
“What’s that? You refuse?” Vader smirked, stepping back from her.
“The fuck you say, I got your ass, Vader.” Lace snorted, rolling her eyes. “If you think—” Her voice was cut off from the mic when Steel yanked it out of Vader’s hand and turned it off. “You can come in here, on our turf and pull this shit? You’ve got another thing coming.”
“You’re right,” Vader conceded. “Let’s end this now. Club versus club. Fuck the money, fuck Chico’s bitch. Me and you. Right now.”
Before she could agree, Steel stepped between Lace and Vader. “Challenge accepted. I’ve got more of a beef with you than the Angel’s do.”
“What the fuck?” Lace yelled at Steel, her heart sinking into her stomach.
“Lace, he’s actively hiding an ex-member of the Rojas that has an SOS on him. He knows it, and it’s a spit in our face. This is now the Rojas fight, not yours, back down.” Steel’s voice was firm, but gentle. “Even Santa Muerte would back me up on this.”
Well, that deflated Lace in so many ways. She was ready to serve up Vader’s head to Rev on a silver platter and now that moment was being yanked out from under her.
Vader smirked. “How gentlemanly of you, Steel, to fight her battles for her.”
Before she could retort, Steel’s hand slapped over her mouth, muffling her reply, his other hand on the back of her head, so she couldn’t move or retaliate. Narrowing her eyes at Steel, she was about to take a chunk out of his hand, when movement caught her attention.
Cobra was strolling up to the three of them, a smug look given. “This ought to be fun.”
Steel let Lace go, slightly blocking her with his body to keep her from lunging at the other two men.
Vader snatched back the mic back, turning it on. “We’ve got one hell of a match for you tonight! Are you ready?”
The crowd stood up with a giant roar, stomping and clapping in anticipation.
Lace took quick inventory of the clubs, spotting where every Roja and Angel was. Which was by no surprise, all at the edge of the ring, waiting for a single nod from either president indicating it was alright to kill the enemy.
“That’s right, get your bets in for the event of the night, Cobra,” Vader pointed to his Sergeant-at-Arms, “versus Steel,” and then pointed to Steel. One last wave of his arm had him pointing up to the ceiling. “In the cage! To the death!” Flipping off the mic, he tossed it to the ground with an arrogant sneer.
Lace was frozen where she stood, disbelief coursing through her as Vader walked out of the ring, leaving Cobra behind.
Cobra stepped closer to Steel, nearly nose to nose, and spoke just loud enough. “You’re dead.”
The empty look in Cobra’s eyes chilled Lace to the very core. She knew Cobra was lethal, and Vader had duped them. He never had any intention of fighting. Lace would’ve stood no chance in the ring with Cobra, and Vader had been counting on it. Now, he had Steel right where he wanted him.
Bile rose up in her throat, making her gag. They were so fucked. Yes, she had faith in Steel, but faith only carried so far when dealing with a killer like Cobra. Only one would walk, or crawl, out of that ring tonight. In normal fights, if you got knocked out, someone would interfere. In her cage rules, if you got knocked out, no one was there to stop the fight. You were either near dead or in a body bag when you exited the ring.
Lace let out a ragged breath and looked around as the Rojas and Angels started to flood the ring. She should’ve known Vader had something up his sleeve. He was never straight forward He was a snake in the grass—duplicitous with every ounce of his being. How many times had she dealt with him? How many times had he weaseled out of shit because of how he worded things? Now, she knew where that feeling was coming from.
“Two tents huh?” She snarled at Steel.
Steel snapped out of whatever trance he was in, focusing on her. “What?”
“What the fuck? Why would you do that?”
“Shut up for a second and think,” Steel barked at her.
“Don’t fucking tell me to shut up.” Lace pouted back at Steel, a hint of anger laced in her voice.
“Stop! What’s done is done. It’s not over yet. There’s something else he’s got up his sleeve. We need to move and think.”
Lace huffed and nodded, though she hated to agree. “Follow me into the office in the back, we’ll talk there. Durty, Sting, Stiletto. Come with us.”
Chaos and Steller nudged their way in front of Lace, who paused briefly to give them instructions. “Get everyone ready. Something isn’t right. Be on alert, just in case. Keep your eyes open for anything.”
Stepping past the two, the five made their way to the office behind the concession stand. It held a safe, a desk, and chair. That was it. Sparse, but efficient for what they needed.
Closing the door behind them, Lace wanted to explode, but the bile was choking her once more. She couldn’t lose Steel. She’d known him since high school, and they had gone through way too much together to watch this happen.
“What the hell were you thinking, H?” Lace was able to choke out, desperately needing a bottle of water.
Everyone started speaking at once, unintelligible.
“Enough,” Steel roared, shutting everyone up. “Look, neither Lace nor I thought this through when Vader challenged us. What’s done is done. We’ve got to figure out what the next surprise is. We all know he won’t stop at just this.”
Chewing on her tongue ring, her nose wrinkled, fighting back the tears that threatened to consume her. She wasn’t one to cry, but all bets were off when it came to her best friend and the man she secretly loved. “We need to call Rev. Vader openly challenging us like this is an open declaration of war. He wouldn’t do that unless he had an Ace hidden somewhere or thought this completely through.”
“The last two weeks, we’ve thought he stopped, calmed down. In other words, while we relaxed, he plotted and caught us with our pants down,” Sting grumbled, running both hands through his hair in exasperation.
Stiletto leaned her thin frame against the edge of the desk, sliding out one of her throwing knives to fidget with. Taking in a deep breath, she lifted her pale blues up, to gaze at them all from under her near white eyebrows. “Mother fucker! I’m going to slit that snake’s throat from ear to ear.”
Steel half-heartedly chuckled with a shake of his head. “The only way to kill a snake, is to cut off its head.” Dropping to a more somber tone, Steel sniffed and drew in a deep breath. “Which means he’s already planned Lace and I are to die tonight.”
That was the ‘oh, shit’ moment. The room became silent as each one battled with their own emotions at the thought of Steel and Lace dying.
Lace slumped against the door while the realization sunk in that this was it. There was a very good chance Steel, nor herself, was going to come out of this situation alive. There had to be a way out of this. Were they missing something? A small loophole that could stop this war from happening? This town would never recover, especially if the Santa Muerte boys rolled into town. Shadow Falls, California would be wiped off the maps.
She had to call Rev and she was definitely not looking forward to that conversation. They had about twenty minutes before the match was to start. That was enough time t
o call Rev and fill him in.
Pulling out for phone, she sighed and muttered, “I’ll call Rev now.”
Before she could even unlock her phone, she was flying to the floor, feeling like she had been hit by a train.
Everything happened in slow motion. The adrenaline hit when the door she was leaning against felt like it had been kicked in, sending her skidding across the floor as her breath left her. Ignoring the pain in her right shoulder, she rolled onto her side, pulling out her gun and aiming for the body that was filling the doorway.
Not only had she drawn her weapon, but Durty, Sting, and Steel had joined her. Stiletto had somehow launched herself from the desk, whisking herself behind the intruder, her knife against his throat, her other hand around his forehead, keeping them at a complete standstill.
“Are you fucking trying to get yourself killed?” Steel yelled, holstering his pistol.
“Seriously? Xander, I swear to God!” Durty joined in, yelling at the wide-eyed male Stiletto had yet to release.
Struggling to get up, Lace almost—almost laughed. Xander was frozen in place, his eyes wide with fear and the realization he just fucked up. His hands were splayed out in front of him, visibly shaking, in a form of submission, not daring to move a muscle.
Stiletto hissed in his ear, her eyes locking with Lace’s. “Can I kill him?”
Lace knew everyone was going to have an itchy trigger finger at this point, any little wrong movement, would get someone killed.
“Wait,” Xander choked out, waving his hands slightly. “They—” he gasped, afraid to even speak. “They have Viper.”
Stiletto tightened her grip on Xander, pressing her knife into his flesh. A tiny bead of blood formed on the blade of steel. “You had best get to explaining before I allow Stiletto to wear your testicles as earrings.”
“Fuck that noise, I’ll kill this piece of shit anyway.” Stiletto was a bomb ready to go off and Lace knew it. If Vader had Viper, there was going to be no stopping her twin from massacring anyone who got in her way.
Policy of Truth (Sacred Heart Continuum Series Book 1) Page 22
