Page 101 of Lucky's Trouble

LUCKY

It’s evening by the time we close in on Jeremiah’s property. We could’ve been here a couple hours ago, but this kind of thing is best done in the dark, so we hid out at our Vegas brothers’ clubhouse to pass the time.

We stop five miles out at a rundown storage facility whose owner is a friend of the Vegas chapter. Dutch jumps off his bike and kicks the guy a grand to rent a large unit for a few hours to park our bikes in. Jeremiah and his men would hear us coming a mile away if we pulled up there on our bikes, and this needed to be a sneak attack if we had any hope of saving her.

We fill half the unit with our bikes before Tigger backs the van in next to us. Rigger tugs on the rope hanging from the pull-down door and closes us in away prying eyes. There isn’t much this far from the lights of Vegas, but we can’t be too careful.

“Here are your weapons, boys,” I say, opening the back of the van.

I stored everything from Glocks to long guns in hidden compartments on either side of the back of the van. Pulling out a small toolbox, I remove a couple stun grenades, offering those up as well. My brothers choose their weapons, making sure they have enough ammo.

“I can disable the cameras, but they’ll notice right away and be on alert, so I’ll wait to do that until you get close,” Satyr says, sitting down on the concrete floor and powering up his laptop. “Anyone want to take another look at the layout before you leave?”

“Raunchy and the Vegas crew are here.” Cy holds up his phone just as we hear the rumbling of more bikes. They left their clubhouse a few minutes after us so we didn’t grab the attention of any local law enforcement. We also left our cuts at their place so the most description anyone would have is a bunch of bikers. There are hundreds, if not thousands, of motorcycle clubs in the area, so that description is basically useless.

Raunchy takes a deep inhale. “Smells like a good day for trouble.”

“You ready, brother?” Shotgun asks Cy.

“Satyr, bring your laptop over,” Cy says.

Satyr walks over to the front of the van, showing them a picture of Jeremiah and the layout of the house, filling them in on what little we know about their security.

“Do you know where she is?” Disciple asks.

“No, so we’ll either be doin’ a full sweep or, better yet, find Jeremiah and cut his fingers off until he cracks.” Riot sheathes his fixed blade at his hip, sounding almost excited about the prospect of cutting through bone.

I know he’s pissed we’re sticking our necks out for Tinleigh, but once the decision was made, he tucked it away and stepped up to be here, the same way we all would for him.

“Sounds like a party.” Eazy claps his leather-gloved hands together.

“Pull on out, and we’ll get the rest of the bikes in here,” I say to Tigger.

Once the Vegas crews’ bikes are hidden, Mustang closes the roll-up door, shutting our bikes and Satyr inside. He’ll stay back to protect our shit and fix any tech problems we might run into.

“Let’s go,” I say, climbing into the back of the van. My brothers pile in after me until there’s not an inch of free space.

“You better not fart, Sweets,” Raunchy says once Tigger pulls out onto the road.

“Too late. You know I get stress gas.”

Everyone bursts out in laughter and horrified gasps as the smell of ass fills the van.

“Goddamn it,” Golden says. “Unroll the fuckin’ windows.”

Tigger and Cy, the only two not back here, quickly press the buttons to let in some fresh air.

“Sorry,” Sweets says through a bubble of laughter.

The lighthearted joking is exactly what I needed right now. Every muscle in my body has been tense to the point of pain since yesterday, and the distraction of having them here, knowing I’ll at least have more information by the time this is done, is helping to relax me.

Ten minutes later, we pull up to an iron gate that’s manned by one guard, and everyone goes silent.

“Hey, do you know where Sapphire Court is?” Tigger yells out to the guard.

“Not here. Turn around and go back out the way you came,” the man in the small booth says.

“Aw, come on, bro. I’m supposed to install some solar panels. Can you look at this map and show me where I’m at?” Tigger is young and, with his red hair and freckles, looks innocent and harmless as fuck.

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