Page 70 of The Devil's Conflict

The common room is pure chaos, men running and moving everywhere, people barking orders and bikes roaring to life outside. I see the women are staying out of the way. Well, other than Rose, who is moving around with a determination that is written all over her face. She’s barking orders right along with the men, telling them where to go and what to do. Clearly the men respect her because no one argues.

The moment we reach the bottom of the steps, Bullet is moving toward us. His gaze locks on to me. “Club business be damned, can you decode these?” he barks, showing me two journals. I nod and take them. “Good. Get them done and give them to Cryos when you’re done.” Then he looks at Sniper. “We’re leaving. You and I are taking our group to the security office, and Arson and Torque are heading for the shop.” Then he looks back at me. “We’re leaving your brother, the other Prospects, and a few of the Misfits here to watch over you and women, but I need you to be on alert too.”

“I will,” I promise.

He nods, before he turns and stalks away. Sniper looks down at me, face grim. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, baby girl,” he tells me in a low voice. Then he kisses me hard before moving away.

The man moving across the room isn’t the man who gave me a piece of himself in his room. No, he’s back to being the soldier that everyone fears, and if they plan on winning this war, Sniper is going to be a key player. I just have to hope it’s not going to send him back to being what they created, instead of the man that’s worming his way under my skin.

TWENTY-NINE

SNIPER

The tides are finally turning in our favor. All thanks to one ridiculously smart blonde that I don’t deserve, but plan on keeping for as long as I possibly can.

The security buildingis completely encased in flames when we pull up, with firefighters working to battle the blaze and keep horrified, and even some mesmerized, on-lookers back. The police let us through. I look at the building, and my anger burns.

“Fuck, that’s going to be expensive to fix,” Viper gripes, staring at it with a pain on his face. I get it, especially considering that he and Shadow built this place from the ground up.

“That’s what insurance is for, brother,” I remind him grimly, but he’s right. Insurance will probably delay paying out, so in the meantime we’ll have to foot the bill.

I turn and follow Bullet over to where a local cop is standing and talking to the Fire Chief. “Bullet,” Sergeant Peter Valdez saysas they shake hands. “Seems you have someone after you. First the bar, now this place and your garage?”

Bullet gives him a grim nod, even as he shakes the Fire Chief’s hand briskly. “Apparently so. Though the bar was a separate incident and had something to do with one of our patrons being involved in some shady dealings,” Bullet reminds him. “This…this is definitely personal.”

“You have any ideas?” Sergeant Valdez asks, his gaze almost friendly, but his dark eyes shrewd. The man won’t miss much. He’s been at this a long time, and while we’ve always had a good relationship with the police force here in town, that doesn’t mean he won’t immediately wonder if we’ve slipped back into old ways.

“No, I’m afraid not.” Bullet scowls, glaring at the burning building. “The only thing we can think is it’s an unhappy client. All our suppliers are paid, and Viper can get you a statement of that if you like,” he adds with a wave of his hand toward Viper, who is talking to Shadow, the two of them looking very pissed off.

“And have you had any unhappy clients recently?” Sergeant Valdez asks, pulling out his little notebook and pen.

“That’s Shadow and Viper’s department since they run this place,” Bullet tells him. He calls them over and repeats the Sergeant’s question to them.

“We haven’t had anything major lately, but we’ve had a few clients getting handsy with our newest guard,” Shadow answers grimly. “I fined them as per their contracts, and black-listed them. And then I called a few of our competitors and told them the same.”

“That would certainly piss someone off,” Sergeant Valdez agrees. “But enough to burn your businesses down?”

“Sergeant, you need to understand the people we guard fall into two categories,” Viper explains. “There’s the ones that thinktheir shit don’t stink and that they need protection because everyone is out to get them. Who think our team is there to do whatever they say, and they like to push the limits as far as they can. And when they don’t get their way, they flip the fuck out. The other knows it’s a business transaction and as long as we’re doing the job, they don’t give us another thought. It’s the first one that we run into more often than not.”

He nods, accepting that. “You got any names I can check? And you said that they were getting handsy with your new guard? I assume that means the new hire is a woman?”

I stiffen at that, not liking the thought that Thea had to deal with more than that one asshole. And I also don’t like that she, nor Shadow and Viper told me about it. But that’s a problem for another time.

Shadow rattles off a few different names, the last one being the one that I heard about. “It’s the last one that was the worst,” he explains. “Kid tried to pin her and kiss her, and spent the day harassing her. When I called to confront him, he tried to laugh it off, saying she was asking for it. He was majorly pissed when I told him of the additional fine and that he was no longer to call us for security. He spouted off a bunch of angry bullshit, threats, and that he hoped we burned down.” He glances back at the building. “Sounds to me like he might have taken that literally.”

I hide my satisfaction, knowing full well that Shadow is trying to make this kid pay by implicating him. It’s also handy to throw the cops off our trail.

“And why would he attack the mechanic shop?” Sergeant Valdez wonders, but he still jots the information down.

“Covering all his bases probably,” Viper replies. “I mean, it’s not hard to figure out what businesses we own. A simple google search and that information is on there for all to see. When you have money and get pissed off, you can pay people to do your dirty work.”

I see that does the trick and the Sergeant scribbles a few more notes, a slight frown pulling at his mouth.

“Anyone else?” he finally asks. “Could this be the work of another MC trying to hone in on your territory?”

“No,” I say with a firm shake of my head. “We’re not an outlaw club, Sergeant, you know that. And we’ve worked hard for years to establish good relationships with other clubs, including outlaw ones in other states.”

“Even the two closest?” he asks, not sounding convinced.

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