Stung by Stealth: A Satan's Savages MC Novel #3 (4 page)

He huffs and rubs the back of his neck. “I have two lined up, brothers. But they’re pretty bad arse motherfuckers. They have tempers on them and like to hit motherfucken women. Not sure we want them to be honest.”

Mad Dog purses his lips and tilts his head. “Brothers worked out for us last time with Stealth and Sentinel. Bring them in so I can meet them. Women bashing isn’t that big of a deal. They probably deserved it… stupid bitches.”

Furrowing my brows at Mad Dog’s derogatory comments, I glance at Lookout, who’s also furrowing his brows. I look to Techie, and he has the same look on his face too. That bit of news doesn’t sit well with most of the guys here.

“So if that’s all we have to discuss, church is adjourned.” Mad Dog bangs his gavel, the crash of wood hitting wood, blasts like thunder through the room. Everyone stands up, so I follow suit and take a deep breath not liking how Mad Dog has changed since Steel’s departure.

The room quickly vacates. As I go to leave, I stride up to Lookout and nudge into his side. He looks at me and smiles wide.

“Hey, fucker.”

“Hey. Has Mad Dog always been okay with violence against women?”

Lookout frowns and shakes his head pursing his lips like he’s pissed off. “I don’t know. All I know is he better not touch any fucken woman I’m involved with.”

I smirk and raise an eyebrow. “You’re involved with women?” I tease.

He pulls back and then pushes me on my chest forcing me back a step as I chuckle. “Fuck off motherfucker. You’re an arsehole. You know what this motherfucker does to arseholes?”

I smile and shake my head shrugging, waiting for the inevitable answer.

“I pound ‘em so hard then I lick ‘em all better. Rub ‘em with some baby oil and slap ‘em again till their nice and red. How’d you like that, hey?” Lookout nods his head like he’s proud of his comeback, as I smirk at him. He strides off looking like a meathead with his arms out to his sides, strutting his stuff.

He really is a strange one.

He sure told me!

Chuckling to myself, I stroll back out to the bar to get a drink. I need one. My head is all over the place. I need to focus. Get my mind on the job. It’s just so hard when you love these guys, the brothers you ultimately have to bring down.

It’s the day after we voted Chops in as VP. To celebrate, Mad Dog has brought us all out to the local gun range for target practice. It’s an indoor range, and we’ve been here a couple of hours. The place is booked out to the club, and we’re in the indoor target area—all just hanging around after a set of shooting, talking and having a break before another round.

“I can’t believe I got so many right in the cock,” Crash says holding up his sheet of the man showing all the bullet holes which are right in the groin area. I chuckle to myself as the others punch him in the arm and rough him up a bit. Ryder grabs his earmuffs, which are wrapped around his neck, pulling on one side and letting it go forcing it to snap back quickly slapping his neck with a thud.

“Ouch! Fuck! You cock head!”

We all chuckle as he rubs his neck and shoves Ryder with his other hand. Techie smirks widely then looks back to Crash. “You know Crash, I’m not sure they have the proper ventilation where you’ve been standing.”

Crash furrows his brows and shakes his head. “What do you mean?”

Techie looks up to the ceiling. “Well, when a gun range has proper ventilation it pulls the smoke and lead particles away from the shooting line, and discharges them from the building to minimise the risk of lead poisoning.”

Crash shakes his head and pouts. “So?”

“Well, when the range lacks proper ventilation, you can be exposed to lead dust from bullets or cartridge primers. It can permeate the skin or clothing or worse, be inhaled. I think you might be getting lead poisoning, Crash.”

Crash’s face drops instantly to a pale white. “Oh, shit, really? I do feel a bit hotter than normal and my throat’s a bit dry. Shit!”

Shaking my head, I punch a smirking Techie in the arm. He chuckles and shakes his head. “Fuck, it sounds like a mild case of hypochondria. Hopefully, that’ll settle down given time.”

I burst out laughing as do the other guys around me, but Crash creases his eyebrows and shakes his head. “Why the fuck are you laughing? That sounds nasty?”

“Techie chuckles and nods. Only hurts for a while, but it’s worse for us, trust me.”

Crash furrows his brows and pouts. “What’s that fucking mean?”

“It’s hard watching you suffer,” Techie replies.

Chuckling at poor Crash, who’s oblivious to us teasing him, I bite my lip trying not to burst into fits of laughter.

“Okay, right.” Crash’s eyebrows scrunch together.

“You’ll be fine, you cockhead, I’m just fucking with you,” Techie replies making us all laugh that little bit harder.

Unexpectedly, the lights all shut off, throwing the range into complete darkness. My heart rate spikes as I look around the room. The only light, a green emergency exit sign turns on, sending a dull hue over the area. We all grab for our weapons, pulling them out and wracking them. Lights don’t just turn off on a place full of club of bikers for no reason, trouble is coming, we just have to wait for it to walk through the door in its size eleven boots. Aiming our guns at the door the silence is deafening. I can only hear the heavy breathing of my brothers in the room, and the footsteps stepping toward the door from outside the room. I’m not sure what the protocol is here, shoot first ask questions later, or see who the intruders are first then shoot. I have no idea. I’ll follow Mad Dog’s lead on this one.

The door swings open with a creak and four men saunter in the room. They all appear to be Mexican in race, sporting black moustaches and ponytails, in contrast to their expensive designer suits. A cold shudder runs down my spine as I glance to Mad Dog, who’s furrowing his brows obviously wondering who these guys are just like the rest of us.

Chops points his gun right at their heads clicking off his safety. “Who the fuck are you?”

All four men raise their hands placing their weapons on the bench to the side. We all stiffen targeting our guns with precision aim. Taking some harsh deep breaths, I watch the guys at the back just to make sure they’re not hiding a weapon while everyone’s distracted with the guy at the front, who takes a step forward raising his hands in surrender and looks right at Mad Dog. The tension in the air is so thick you couldn’t even cut it with Wesley, Steel’s knife.

“We’re just here to talk,” the lead Mexican guy announces in his thick accent.

My heart’s racing. Last time something happened like this it was an all-out war with the 5113ers. Blood was spilled, lives were lost. Who knows what their game is?

“Why the dramatics with the power outage?” Techie asks.

The leader shrugs and smirks pointing to one of the other guys. “Manuel thought it’d give us mood lighting. Dramatic effect and all… he’s a romantic at heart, our Manuel.”

Manuel nods and shrugs as Chops brings the barrel of the Glock right up against the leader’s temple. “What. Do. You. Want? Whoever the fuck you are,” Chops enunciates.

The leader smirks and nods. “Name’s José. I’m here on behalf of my employer—”

“Who is?” Mad Dog interrupts. We all keep our Glocks aimed at the four Mexicans.

“All in good time, Amigo. We noticed you’re planning to distribute guns and drugs to the streets. We’d like to see that
doesn’t
happen. My employer kindly asks you cease distribution, and either take your business elsewhere, or you move your business to
other
avenues of profit.”

Mad Dog chuckles and shakes his head. “Kindly tell your employer to suck my giant fat hairy cock.”

I smirk as snickers filter through the room, but not from the Mexicans who are all frowning and shaking their heads. José leans over to the bench and picks up his gun. I tense the same as everyone else. We’re all aiming our guns, fingers on the trigger, waiting for him to make his move. He simply holsters his gun and raises his hands in surrender.

“My employer will be displeased. I’ll be seeing you again, Mad Dog.”

José turns around knocking Chops’ gun from his temple and saunters out the room with his minions following. Everyone looks around the room wondering what the fuck just went down. We have no idea who they were, where they came from, who their employer is, and more importantly, I haven’t seen them before at work, so they’re not known to the police. These guys could be dangerous. The lights turn on and I bring my gun down slowly, now that the tension seems to have left the room. I’m fairly sure the Mexicans are gone, but Ryder and Crash take off outside to make sure. They don’t even have to be told by Mad Dog.

“What the fuck?” Chops murmurs looking at the Prez.

“Techie?” Mad Dog questions as Techie pulls out his tablet and starts to run a search.

Shaking his head he huffs. “I can’t find anything. I really need more than just a first name and ethnicity. I, at least, need a full name, handle, location, place of employment, something to go by other than just a Mexican called José.”

“Puzzles are like clues, challenging to master, but easy,” Jigsaw says and we all look at him and I furrow my brows.

“But easy?” I ask wanting to know if there’s more to his riddle.

“Ja,” he simply replies smiling brightly and slapping my back hard.

“Okay, so we have nothing. Let’s get back to the clubhouse, we’re obviously not safe here. Pack up boys, let’s go,” Mad Dog announces. I take a deep breath wondering who the hell is gunning for the Virginia Satan’s Savages now.

We quickly pack up our stations then head back to the clubhouse. As I’m riding my Hog the wind brushing my face, I can’t help but be on guard. I’m watching the road, but also my flank and occasionally turning to check my six, just to make sure there’s no Mexican tail on our arses.

We pull up to the gates of the clubhouse. Sentinel opens the gates letting us ride through. He was majorly pissed he didn’t get to come to the range with us, but someone needed to stay and watch the clubhouse. Unfortunately, as always seems to happen, he drew the short straw along with Lookout.

We all duck walk our Hogs into their parks and Shogun greets Mad Dog happily waving his tail. We all jump off our bikes, placing our lids on our handlebars and start marching toward the clubhouse. The atmosphere is quiet. I think everyone’s reflecting on the events at the range. Stepping into the clubhouse through the black door,
‘Battery Acid’
by Queens Of The Stone Age plays loudly on the stereo. Noticing two guys standing with Lookout, I wonder who they are. Both tall. One with facial hair, but it’s all strange like he’s trying to grow it, but it’s all patchy like he’s going through puberty. He looks scruffy with his lanky posture and shaggy brown hair. The other is a darker brown, but he appears more masculine than the other with a full beard. He’s fuller in tone, but still lanky in all respects. These guys look kind of weird to me. I turn to Mad Dog and he furrows his brows looking at the two strangers who seem to have taken up residence in our clubhouse.

Strolling up to them, I tilt my head upward in a greeting and half-smile. “Hey.”

“You a brother here?” the really lanky, scruffy one asks.

Nodding, I smirk. “I am.”

“Stealth, this is the two prospects looking to join up. This motherfucker here is Blade…” Lookout points to the more normal looking one of the two, “…and this motherfucker is Acid.”

Opening my eyes wide, I nod. “You already have road names?”

They both stare at me blankly as Lookout smirks. “That’s their birth names, Stealth.”

Swallowing hard, I nod. “Oh.”

They glare at me. The one who looks more like a gutter rat than a human—Acid, I think—

curls his lip at me. “You have a problem with that?”

I shake my head. “Nope, not at all.”

Acid grits his teeth baring them to me like a rabid dog, and I wonder what the fuck this guy’s doing. I think he is
on
acid, not named after it.

“Okay motherfuckers, let’s go.” Lookout grabs Acid and Blade by their belt buckles and pulls them off toward Mad Dog. They both let their hands fall to their sides and their faces scrunch up in confusion as Lookout grabs them basically by their cocks and drags them away. Chuckling to myself, I turn to grab a much-needed beer. A tingle runs down my spine when I see Skye sitting down at the bar. I smile looking over at her beautiful face always feeling a pull toward her. I want to protect her from this life. She’s so sweet and beautiful—she doesn’t belong here.

Stepping up to the bar, I take a stool next to her and sit down. “Hey, gorgeous.”

“Hey handsome. Heard there was trouble at the range?”

I nod and sigh. “Yeah, not sure what the hell happened actually. My head’s still spinning from it.”

She leans forward and rests her hand on my knee. It sends a shockwave through my leg and straight up to my cock making it semi-stiffen. “You wanna talk about it?”

Puffing my cheeks up, I force the air out through a small hole in my mouth and shake my head. “Nah, let’s talk about your day instead.”

She smiles and nods. “Okay, burning tree?” she asks. I nod knowing that even though it’s the middle of February and it’s stinking hot outside, it will still be great to be out of the testosterone filled clubroom and have some alone time with Skye.

I stand up wrapping my arm around her tiny shoulders. She smells incredible as my nose rubs into her hair. She smells like… wait, I don’t even know what that smell is.

“Skye, what scent is your hair?”

She giggles looking up at me as we walk outside. “Well, I’m assuming it’s my shampoo. It’s a combination of things, watery cyclamen layered with leafy greens, blond woods, and airy metallic notes, but I think the main ingredient is jasmine. The bottle says it’s meant to smell beachy.”

Laughing at that ridiculous explanation—it sounds like she’s reciting an advertisement for shampoo—I pull her closer to me. “You’re so fucking cute. Jasmine, we’ll go with jasmine. It’s awesome, keep using it.”

She looks up at me and smiles. “Only ‘cause you want me too. Not ‘cause
I
like it or anything,” she teases poking me in the ribs.

I smirk as we make our way to a seat under the burning tree. I take my arm from around her shoulders and sit down in the comfortable chair. She follows me down sitting in my lap. Her arm wraps around my neck as she sits sideways. Her hand moves to the back of my hair and she starts to play with it.
I love it when she does that.
I don’t have time for any of the other club girls here, they’re too slutty. Lunar was always Steel’s girl until Willow came along, but she isn’t here as much now. She seems to be off with the rocker, Danger.

Jess, well she shoots ping pong balls out her pussy, enough said right there.

Aimie, well fuck me, she’s seventeen and I’ve tried so many times to talk her out of being here, but she’s adamant about staying. And the others, well they’re boring.

Skye is the only one who seems like a normal, non-Barbie-like slut in this place. Sure, she has the blonde hair and fake tits, but she has a brain and she isn’t stupid. Or doesn’t pretend to be. That’s what I like about her. I just wish I could stop thinking about Hannah because Skye’s amazing. Then maybe I could get over this sex drought I’m having. It’s been so long I’m sure my cock is going to fall off as a non-required appendage. They do say if you don’t use it, you lose it, let’s just hope that’s not true.