Page 57 of Property of Tacoma
They don’t need to know she’s in my bed right now, naked and thoroughly fucked.
Gator slides a beer across the table to me. “How was it?”
I pop the tab and take a long pull, considering my answer. Truth is, it was fucking mind-blowing, but I’ll be damned if I’m giving these assholes the satisfaction.
“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” I say instead.
The door swings open again, cutting off whatever smartass remark Bane was about to make.
My old man walks in with Red right behind him. The atmosphere in the room shifts immediately, the teasing grins fading as everyone straightens up.
Pop takes his seat at the other end of the table, his weathered face serious.
“Let’s get this shit started.” I meet my men’s eyes around the table. “We got problems that need sorting.”
Red settles into a chair near my father, his wild auburn hair and beard making him look like a Viking warrior despite his age. His piercing blue eyes lock onto mine. “Fill me in.”
I nod, setting my beer aside.
As much as I’d rather be back at my house, buried deep inside Foxy, we’ve got serious shit to deal with.
The rest of the officers file in—Story, Cyber, Banks, and Bishop—taking their usual spots around the table. Once everyone’s seated, I bang the gavel, officially starting church.
“We got ourselves in a clusterfuck of a situation,” I begin, looking around at my brothers. “Mayor Camden was found executed in the VIP room at Kitties. Shot point-blank in the head.”
“Motherfucker had it coming,” Gator mutters.
“Maybe so,” I concede. “But the timing is suspicious as fuck. Last week he’s demanding more money, threatening my family, and now he’s dead in our club.”
“There’s a new king in town,” Bash quotes the message left on the wall, his face grim.
I nod. “That ain’t fucking happening,” I growl before moving on to the other bullshit we’re dealing with, “And then a few hours later, Bane was jumped by Sinners in the alley beside Dave’s.” I turn to my brother. “Tell them what happened.”
Bane leans forward, wincing slightly as the movement pulls at his ribs. “Got off my bike and thought I saw someone peeking from behind the building.”
“You should have fucking said something before going back there,” I say, interrupting him. It was fucking stupid. I was right there. He should have let me know.
“Anyhow,” he says dramatically. “Three Sinners were waiting—Skid, Hammer, and some tattooed fuck I didn’t recognize.”
“They were waiting for you specifically?” Story asks, his brow furrowed.
“I don’t know. But I got the feeling they knew we would be there,” Bane says. “Said some shit about paying for what we did.”
“What the fuck did we do?” Banks asks, looking confused.
“Hell if I know,” Bane shrugs. “But they were pissed. Got the drop on me, and they were about to put a bullet in my head when Foxy showed up.”
A surge of pride hits me in the chest, and the grin I’ve been fighting breaks free. “Tell ‘em what she did.”
A slow smile spreads across Bane’s face, despite his split lip. “Man, you should’ve seen her. She came around the corner, guns drawn—both of them pink, by the way.” He chuckles. “These fuckers laughed at her. Then she charged Skid like a goddamn bullet, slid across the ground, and shot Hammer point-blank in the gut.”
“No shit?” Bank’s eyes widen.
“No shit,” Bane confirms. “Saved my ass.”
“She’s one hell of a woman,” I say before I can stop myself, getting knowing looks from around the table.
Pop clears his throat. “Roxy’s taken quite a shine to her. Says she’s got good energy.” He fixes me with a pointed look. “You better not fuck this up, son. That woman is a goddamn keeper.”
