Page 36 of Single Mom for the Bikers

“That’s my choice, not yours.”

Phoenix meets us on the way, frowning when he sees Shelby. “What’s she?—”

“Don’t look at me. I was outvoted,” I grumble.

“If they took Mia, I want to be there for this,” she snaps. “You have a problem with that?”

Phoenix raises his eyebrows, but all he says is, “Fair.”

Eagle-eye, King, the other officers and most of the rest of the Eagles are gathered in the courtyard. Just inside the gate are the Outlaw Sons. I don’t recognize most of them, but their prez, General, is hard to forget. He’s a big guy in his fifties with long dark hair streaked with gray. He has a massive mustache and two gold front teeth. Rumor has it that he took the name because that was his military rank before getting out, but I’ve also heard that it’s because he killed a General, so take your pick. Either way, he’s a force to be reckoned with.

Another I remember from the Burnout. The big-as-a-fucking-mountain guy we needed two guys to take down. He’s still got a bruise under his eye and an angry cut along his jaw. The way he’s standing next to General, he’s obviously a club officer, maybeeven the VP. His expression darkens when he sees us. If glares could kill, we'd be dead already.

“I think he remembers us,” I note dryly.

“Good.” Phoenix gives him the finger, and it doesn't exactly improve his mood. As we move closer, the two club presidents, Eagle-eye and General, are arguing animatedly and angrily.

“What the fuck do you want?” Eagle-eye snarls. He might only have one good eye left, the other one blind and milky white, but I dare any fucker to stare back into it and not know at least a little fear. Almost sixty, he’s more gray than color, but built like a fucking barrel of muscle that even I wouldn’t wanna fuck with.

General snarls right back. “Hand over the assholes who broke the peace and we’ll call it fucking even. I’ll even send them back breathing so long as they don’t do anything too stupid.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then I'm just gonna have to assume you’re looking for war. Is that what you fucking want?”

Eagle-eye's voice rumbles like a rockslide. “I'd watch what you're saying. You’ve never given us trouble before, and trust me, you don’t want to start now. I don’t fucking care how many connections you have, the only thing left of you would be ghosts. Ask the Pit Vipers.”

Both Phoenix and Shel's mouths thin at the mention of Dodger's old club, and they are far from the only ones.

One of the other officers, a lanky, straw-haired guy with two knives in his belt and a piece sticking very obviously out next to them, growls, but doesn't say anything. Something about himmakes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. He’s one bad decision from turning this into a bloodbath.

“Watch him,” Phoenix growls, pulling his jacket open for easy access to his iron and angling himself between trouble and Shelby.

“On it.”

Sledge and I very carefully do the same, making sure that if something were to happen, she’d have time to run.

General looks like he wants to put his fist straight through Eagle-eye, but out of frustration, not because he’s a loose cannon. “What the fuck is wrong with you? I heard you had a kid, but are you so fucking sleep deprived you’re losing your mind? We were minding our own fucking business when your boys came in and made a mess of the Burnout and yelling nonsense for no goddamn reason. We mind our damn business and you mind yours. That’s always been our deal.”

“No reason?” Phoenix takes a couple steps closer to get General’s attention. “You fuckers decided you wanted to redraw the borders and left me for fucking dead. You think we're just gonna take that sitting down?”

The straw-haired guy smirks. “Looking pretty good for a dead guy. They’re fucking lying.”

“Phoenix,” Eagle-eye warns, stopping him in his tracks before he does something stupid.

King, our VP, steps forward. “You accusing my old lady of lying, too? Because she helped fix him up when we got him home.”

Shadow, who was right there with us at the bar, nods. “And me? I heard the phone call come in when you assholes took credit for the attack and warned us off.”

Eagle-eye holds up a hand for silence. “Think, General. What the fuck would we have to gain from taking pot shots at your boys?”

The big officer at General’s side shrugs. “You’ve been shifting your operations around for the past few years, less anarchy, more business. Don’t think we haven’t noticed. So far you haven’t encroached on our trade, but maybe that’s changing.”

General nods. “Hellfire's got a point. Are we being made obsolete?”

Well, at least we've got a name for him now.

Eagle-eye shakes his head. “We’re not hurting for cash. I’ve got no fucking interest in weapons and even less in the mercenary shit you get up to.”

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