Page 31 of Beast
I climbed off my bike and pulled Diesel to the side, peeking in the window. “Four of them.”
“Then it sucks to be a Hell’s Messenger today.” Diesel opened the door, and we stepped inside.
“Assholes,” I said, and the four assholes turned. “Go to the back,” I told the young woman. Seated customers got up and left.
“We were just leaving,” a Messenger said.
“Not yet.” Diesel charged forward.
The four men went in different directions, but we managed to corral all four before they hit the door. Diesel hit the first guy so hard that he flew over the counter and smashed into a stack of plates. One of the assholes swung at me, missing wildly, and I put him next to the guy Diesel hit, leaving two assholes.
The asshole closest to me charged forward, raising a chair above his head. He swung and missed. I let him twirl back around and take another swing. The chair smashed into a display case, ruining dozens of desserts. He came at me again, and the uppercut I shared knocked his ass out.
Diesel grabbed the last guy by the neck and tossed him through the window replaced after our last fight at Lady Birds.
We’d made a mess of the place, and we’d pay to fix it. The young woman came out from the back and shook her head. She then grabbed two pastries and placed them on the only standing table.
“Beers?” she said, and we nodded.
Diesel watched her ass as she went to the back. “She’s gotta be eighteen, right?”
“Better ask,” I said.
Diesel shoved the entire pastry into his mouth.
“What are you, twelve?”
“No. But I’m going to hit that shit before we leave.”
“Ask her how old she is.”
The woman returned with two beers, and Diesel put his arm around her lower back.
“You old enough?”Diesel asked.
The waitress took out her notepad and wrote her phone number. Women loved biker dick.
We dragged the other three bikers outside in time for the Sheriff’s Department to show. They were in our pockets, but sometimes, we had to give them a win so the community would feel safe. The first deputy on the scene, a young man almost half my age and size, loaded us into the back of his cruiser. I’d never met him before, which meant he’d recently started the job.
“Disorderly conduct,” he said. “I’ll have someone else take the others in if they’re still alive. Might be a murder charge involved.”
That’s all I needed.
By the time we got to the county jail, Tamara, the club’s attorney, stood on the front steps waiting. She was a hot little piece of ass, but everyone knew she was off-limits. Kickstand made it clear years ago that his niece had no interest in being an old lady or someone’s one-night stand. We thought maybe she was interested and Kickstand was protecting her from the life.
“Bail’s posted,” Tamara said. “You have to go through the process, and then you can walk out.” She eyed Diesel as if he were a lollipop she wanted to suck on. “Owner refuses to press charges.”
“You free tonight?” Diesel asked. I assumed he figured Tamara was no longer off-limits since Kickstand was gone.
“You couldn’t handle this,” Tamara said, and Diesel and I laughed. She had no idea.
After processing, Tamara took us back to our bikes. The Messengers were gone.
“You’ve got feds sniffing around, Beast. I haven’t heard from them, but they’re here.” Tamara stepped in front of my bike. “Something you need to tell me? And you should vet your people in case of a rat problem.”
“We had a load of guns go missing,” I said. “We’re trying to track them down. Everything else is above board, but you’re the second person to suggest we have a rat in the club.”
Diesel climbed on his bike. “You know how to reach me. See you in a week.” He pulled away, leaving me behind with Tamara.
