Page 40 of Roar & Lizzy: A Forever Kind of Love

Chapter 14

Roar shoved the magazinein the pistol and slid the weapon into the holster on the side of his boot. Pulling the leg of his jeans down, he straightened and adjusted his knife, unsnapping the leather strip at his side.

"Lagsturns has men planted three blocks out, surrounding us." Brage held a cell phone to his ear. "The others are off I-5 congregating under the Interstate bridge in the motel parking lot."

"The one on the right or left?" he asked.

Brage spoke into the phone, lifted his head, and said, "Left."

Knowing it was vacant and would have fewer people around, Roar's confidence in the situation grew. "Tell them to go ahead and have fun."

Roar walked out of the meeting room. There was always room for something to go wrong. That's what made what Slag Motorcycle Club do fun.

Each one of them lived for the opportunity to battle, to break the boredom, and to burn off some testosterone. The only thing that compared to fighting, and in which Nordic men went into passionately, was sex.

"Lagsturns brought a hundred members with them." Brage followed him down the stairs, relaying the messages from the Slag scouts. "Dennison's bringing fifteen men with him to the meeting."

"Make them wait ten minutes and then give them the okay. I want the gate opened at the same time." He pushed out the door and entered the alley.

He swept his gaze over the Slag members ready for some action. Manual labor would only distract them for so long. His men wanted to let loose some of the frustrations of moving, breaking off from the Seattle Chapter, and not having any outside excitement.

He fisted his hands at his sides, adrenaline pulsing through him. His men weren't alone. It'd been a few months since he'd shown anyone what the Slag Motorcycle Club was capable of.

The women were in the clubhouse. The bar was closed. Sunday traffic was at a minimum.

He motioned for Rune and Aron. The two men stepped out of line. Without speaking his needs, they knew their only job was to make sure no more Lagsturns than they could handle would get through the gates.

To the rest of the members, he said, "Slag."

"Slag," repeated his men.

He crossed his arms, nodded, and the gate came open. Ten Lagsturns' members rode down the alley, side by side.

"Close the gate." He kept his gaze on Dennison.

The president of Lagsturns was known to fight dirty. Roar welcomed him to try and shoot him in the back. He swept his gaze over the man's body. Before Dennison could pull the pistol tucked under the front of his belt, Roar would put a knife in his heart from twenty paces.

It wasn't the first time he'd dealt with Lagsturns Motorcycle Club. Slag often went head to head with the California based MC when they encroached on their territory.

Dennison threw his leg over his Harley and strode forward alone. Roar remained where he stood. He'd make the son of a bitch come to him.

The president of Lagsturns stopped two yards away, peered around without meeting Roar's gaze. "It looks like you've become part of the community, brother."

"I'm not your brother." Roar, aware of those in his peripheral vision moving in closer, remained calm at the insult.

"I had a lot of time to think while we rode up the 101 from California." Dennison reached inside his vest.

Roar's hand came up to his hip, and he wrapped his fingers around the hilt of his knife.

"Cigarette." Dennison held up the pack of smokes, showing no threat. "You don't mind?"

He refrained from commenting. Dennison could pretend the meeting was friendly, but he failed to hide the constant need to move with his nervousness. The exchange became fragile the moment their enemies rolled past the gate.

Dennison drew from the cigarette and blew the smoke out above his head. He knew Dennison had only led the Lagsturns MC for the last two years. Younger than Roar's forty-four years, he suspected Dennison was voted in as president because the old timers were overtaken by the younger members. There were too many rollovers, something Slag made sure never happened by only letting Norwegians prospect and join the family ties of relatives who've been in the MC in one form or another for over eighty years.

"There's talk going around that you're planning on going head to head with Moroad Motorcycle Club." Dennison held his cigarette between his lips. "Any truth to the rumor?"

"What if there was?"

---