Cash (The Henchmen MC 2)

“It should,” he said, shrugging like it didn't matter to him either way if it did or not.

“Right,” I said, laughing and reaching for the stereo.

“Oh god, man... not more of that shit,” he groaned, head on the rest, looking at the torn material on the ceiling.

“Shit?” I asked, one-handed connecting my ipod to his cassette tape adapter.

“That nineties and early two-thousands grunge, rock, alt shit,” Repo, a very loyal metal fan winced.

I felt myself grin as I clicked on Nirvana and cranked it up. “Kids these days,” I said, shaking my head at him despite there only being maybe a six or seven year difference in our ages.

We pulled up to Chaz's, the Mallick's bar, a few minutes later. Bikes were parked out front, Chaz's being for some reason a watering hole for the local weekend warriors. Apparently, a little bombing didn't shut down business.

“Are they as badass as their reputation?” Repo asked, looking at the bar, rocking back on his heels.

“I only know Shane and Reign knows him better than me, but... yeah,” I said, reaching for the door and letting myself in.

The inside was sleek, almost upscale with slate gray walls and floors stained so dark they were almost black which matched the bar to the right and all the tables and chairs inside. As I had expected, there was a table to the back with six black-haired (one with some whisps of gray) men with six sets of freakishly light blue eyes that belonged to the Mallick brothers : Ryan, Eli, Mark, Hunter, and Shane, as well as their father, Charles.

Beside me, I felt Repo stiffen when all their heads turned to us almost in unison.

“Henchmen?” I heard Hunter ask, brows drawing together. I knew him. He was the only Mallick son that wasn't in the business, wasn't a loanshark. He had gotten out a few years before, got himself hitched to some hellion named Fiona, had himself a couple of little girls, and worked with a tattoo gun. The rest though, still ruthless, calculating kneecap breakers.

“'Sup Cash?” Shane, the youngest and bulkiest of them asked, nodding his head at us and moving to stand.

“Just figured we would stop by and compare notes.”

“Reign ain't stopping by for that?” Shane asked, brows drawing together and I knew they had a bit of a friendship going on since right before Reign met Summer. Well, since he told us one of his clients was one of our men and that man turned out to be a snitch.

“Reign is over at Lyon's,” I said, shrugging. They knew the deal.

“We keep our noses out of other organizations around here, you know that,” Ryan, the oldest, the more professional of all of them reminded me.

“Know that. Know we all also have enemies. Just wanted to see if we had any in common.”

“You really think you, us, Hailstorm, Lyon, and Lex have a common enemy?” Chaz, their father asked and it took everything I had to keep the lazy grin on my face. He reminded me a lot of my father- fierce, commanding.

“Covering our bases. Talked to Hailstorm already. Came up with nothing.”

“Guys want a round?” Shane asked, already waving a hand at the bartender.

“Whiskey,” I answered.

“You?” Shane asked.

“Repo,” Repo supplied. “And sure... vodka is fine.”

“That your '82?” Mark asked, looking at me.

“His,” I said, jerking my chin. “He gets bored with them when they're pretty again so if you're looking for a car...”

“Keep that in mind,” Mark agreed, shutting up with a look from their father.

“You see Lex's?” Shane asked, leaning back in his chair.

“Not yet.”

“Fire completely gutted the place.”

I felt my brows drawing together, my smirk falling. I knew that his place got the worst of it, but I didn't think it was that bad. “Did the evil fuck make it out?”

Shane shrugged a big shoulder. “No one has any word on him. We know there were several casualties among his men, but no one knows or no one is talking about Lex's whereabouts.”

“So we got shit,” I said, throwing back my whiskey and handing the glass back to the waitress who brought it over, giving her a weak imitation of the smile I would normally give her, being all tits, ass, and long hair. She was so lush and, normally, I'd have been minutes away from burying deep in her pussy, no matter what was going on with the club. What the fuck was wrong with me?

“That about sums it up,” Chaz agreed, giving me a 'what can 'ya do' shrug.

“You'll keep us in the loop if you come up with anything?”

Chaz nodded.

“Tell Reign that Lea is dragging my ass to whatever dinner party shit Summer has planned.”

“Another fuckin' dinner party?” I asked, flat out grinning. “After the shitstorm that was her last one?” Shane sighed and I laughed. “You know, I never thought I'd see the day that two of the biggest dogs in town would be led around by their balls by some women.”

“Should be happy,” Shane said, smiling. “Got yourself less competition now. Just three of these fucks,” he said, waving at his brothers. “And... who? Breaker and Shooter?”

I laughed at that until Repo cleared his throat. “Break and Shoot took off last night.”

My smile died and I turned to Repo, eyes questioning. “What?”

“Shredder told me Rick told him that he saw them at Paine's shop, looking like they were sayin' goodbye then taking off with some dark-haired chick with a busted face.”

“And you were sitting on this shit because?” I asked, feeling anger, strange and unsettling, build up inside.

“You can't honestly fucking think Break or Shoot would be in on this,” Repo reasoned.

He was right. On a normal day, I would never think they would meddle in our, let alone everyone's, shit. Breaker and Shooter were contract muscle. They did jobs for whoever paid the right price. Breaker, well, he was good at breaking people. Shooter, well, was good at shooting. They were tight as brothers and generally kept to themselves business-wise. I'd shared more than a few nights of debauchery with Shooter- drinking too much, taking bets on which one of us would land the hottest chick in the room. I didn't know Breaker well, but Reign did. They were friends, as much as anyone outside of the club could be our friends. That being said, them taking off in the middle of the night when bombs were going off? That didn't sit right.