Page 53 of A Love Like Venom

"Follow me," I order Oak before adding, "there's a strip club called Fantasy."

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," Oak groans.

"Wish I was. Not much of a fantasy either. Don't get your hopes up," I quip.

"Wasn't planning on it. Honestly don't know how you grew up here."

"Me either, when you figure it out let me know."

Not long after that we both find ourselves in front of Fantasy. The place is worse for wear. The paint is literally chipping, the windows are cracked, and the neon signs are half lit. This place is a fucking joke, but it always was.

I remember when I was younger the other boys would come here after school. I always heard them talking about it in the high school cafeteria. Never interested me. I didn't have to go to a strip club and pay someone to get my dick wet.

Fantasy didn't care if you were a minor. As long as you had the money you were welcome. Same thing went for the strippers. Can't tell you how many times I heard this place was close to getting busted for hiring minors.

Fucking disgusting.

I'm about to tell Oak we should check somewhere else because we don't see any other motorcycles in sight when we hear a loud rumbling of noise.

Coming in a pack of seven the motorcycles come to a stop in front of Fantasy. They park their bikes across from us.

Even though there is seven of them and only two of us I'm not threatened. Matter of fact I'm still liking our odds.

Separated we can do some damage but together? When Oak and I fight alongside each other there's major destruction.

Oak and I stare all of them down waiting for them to come our way.

Fuck if we are going to make the first move. They can come to us.

And they do. How very shocking.

They all move fluidly with each other. Each of them wearing their precious leather MC cuts proudly.

What a fucking disgrace.

I can already see their smug faces from here. They think they have the upper hand. That's the problem when you're too cocky. You don't expect someone to swoop in and knock you down.

Well, here we are boys. And it's only the beginning for us.

When they come to a stop a few feet away from us a man in his mid-forties stands ahead of the rest followed by a young man in his late twenties.

The older one has dirty blonde hair and a face that looks weathered. His green eyes stare at the both of us harshly with his mouth in a firm line. He's not that tall, way shorter than me and not physically built.

But that's where the man next to him steps in.

The young man is about my height, maybe an inch or two shorter but not by much. He's built well and I can tell by his crooked nose that it's been broken one too many times. He looks at me with a mischievous glint in his eyes and an almost shit eating grin.

As I glance down at his patch, I see that it reads Vice President.

So, this is the man that has my little Alice filled with fear.

To an outsider it looks like it would be an even match. People would place their bets on the both of us to win. Too bad there's only one victor and that's going to be me.

I stare him down with a wide grin on my face.

Come at me motherfucker. I'd like to see you fucking try.

"You are aware you're on my territory, boys," the older one, who has a patch that says, President tells us not lightly.

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