King (Rogue Rebels MC 2)

The music continued in the background, while they all turned to look at us. We stood our ground at the door, just as a muscular, tattooed member stalked towards us. I stepped up in front, meeting his eye. We both had our teeth gritted at each other like wolves waiting to pounce.

“What the fuck are you assholes doing here?” he growled and my hand instinctively flew to the gun stuffed in my belt.

“At ease soldier, we’re here to have a chat,” I told him, and a smile flickered on my face. I was enjoying watching the Black Skulls squirm, knowing that they were powerless now. Besides, the truth was that the Black Skulls knew, just as well as we did, that messing with underage kids and using them as slave fighters; went against every code in the book. They were never going to be taken seriously by any MC if they continued doing this.

The bear growled and squared his shoulder, just as another, skinnier guy walked up to us. I recognized him immediately. They called him Razor, and he was high ranking in the Black Skulls order of command. He seemed calmer than the muscle man like he had already admitted defeat.

“What makes you think that we would want to have a chat with you boys?” Razor asked, looking calmly at my brothers and me.

“Because you wouldn’t want to be slaughtered by us again, would you?” Slade had stepped up towards Razor and was hissing at him angrily. I held up a hand at Slade, to stop him in his tracks before he did something stupid. Now was not the time to make a show of our power. Not when we were right in the Black Skulls’ lair.

“It would be in your best interest to just listen to what we have to say, and avoid trouble. We broke you guys up before, and we can do it again,” I said, glaring into Razor’s eyes. The man had his tattooed face scrunched up, which he eventually relaxed and then looked over his shoulder to check the expression on the faces of his MC members.

“What do you fucking want?” he growled, and I clenched my jaws.

“We know you were working with the Muerte Viviente gang,” I said, but Razor said nothing. He kept peering into my eyes, but he didn’t need to reply. We all knew they weren’t running the fighting ring alone.

“Give us information on the gang, and we just might leave you fellows alone,” I said, a smile tugging my lips.

Razor looked back at his group again. They were all hulking masses of muscle behind him, some armed and others armed with drinks. I could sense the tension in the room. We were all poised for a fight, which we knew could erupt at any second. One wrong move on one guy’s part could start a battle. There was no love lost between either of our MCs. However, this was the closest to a civil conversation that we could have right now; after we had just obliterated their entire fighting ring operation.

Razor looked back at me, and I checked over his shoulders to make sure that none of his men were about to make a stupid move. I knew my brothers were keeping an eye out as well.

“What kind of information are you looking for?” Razor finally said, and I nodded my head, the smile growing on my face. It hadn’t taken them long to decide to throw the Muerte Viviente gang under the bus.

“Give me a name. Someone to target,” I said and stroked the barrel of my gun unconsciously. Razor squared his shoulders again and clenched his jaws. He was pretending to struggle with giving away vital information…but we both knew what was going to happen. He was going to give me a name, just so that we could leave him and his MC alone. They needed more time to gather forces so they could retaliate against us. For the time being, they needed some space so they could lick their wounds in peace.

“Juan Castillo,” he said and my brows furrowed, my face turning rigid with confusion.

“What did you say?” I growled, and Razor shrugged his shoulders.

“Yeah, that’s his name. What a fucking loser,” Razor said, and some of his men joined him in a laugh like he had said something funny.

“Did you say, Juan Castillo?” I asked him, and Razor tilted his head to one side and smiled. He had noticed the wave of rage and confusion on my face.

“That name mean something to you, baby boy?” he asked, and Commando stepped in before things got out of hand. I had clenched my hand on the barrel of the gun, and I would have pulled it out and shot Razor right in the chest if Commando hadn’t interrupted us.

“Who is he? Why are you giving us his name?” Commando asked.

“He’s their leader. He’s the one who organized the whole thing for us, practically begged us to work with him. I tell ya, we did it because we felt sorry for him. Small time gang,” Razor said, with a smirk on his face.

“Yeah, sure, that’s what happened,” Commando rolled his eyes comically at Razor and turned to me, blocking my view of the man.

“Let’s get out of here and deal with this later, brother,” he said to me, and I realized that Commando had noticed the look of recognition on my face.

No more words were exchanged between us and the Black Skulls as we backed out of the bar. My mind was still reeling with the information. I could feel that familiar feeling of rage returning to my brain. Juan Castillo,

the name kept ringing in my head.

Once outside, we all strode towards our bikes and Commando followed me.

“You know this guy?” he asked as I jumped on my bike in a hurry. I needed some time to think things over. This was information that wasn’t going to settle down easily.

“Yeah, I know him,” I said to Commando who tapped his fingers on my bike.

“Who is he? He’s not Valentina’s father, that much I know,” Commando said, and I nodded my head.

“He was one of the kids,” I said, and he crossed his brows.