Royal and Baron were Betsy’s stepsons. They were slightly wild. Until recently they’d been stuck in some boarding school in Texas. Where they’d nearly started a revolt.
Ink shrugged. “They’ve been wanting to come here. How much trouble can they get into?”
“Uh, this is Royal and Baron,” Duke said. “They drugged Matthieu, stole his car, drove halfway across the country, then took your truck and kidnapped Betsy. First week at their new school and Baron nearly blew up the science lab while Royal got into a fight with the quarterback over a girl.”
“The asshole kid was pushing his girl around and Royal stepped in to protect her,” Ink defended. “And Baron said that the fire in the lab was an accident.”
“Baron has a near genius IQ,” Reyes pointed out.
“Yeah, well, so they’re a handful. There’re dozens of people in the bar watching them. They’ll be fine.” Ink glanced over at the door as though wishing he was on the other side of it.
“So what are we here to talk about?” Spike asked.
Everyone turned to look at him. He didn’t speak much. Didn’t see the point of wasting his breath on useless words. But he had places to be.
“Couple of things, Razor?” Reyes prompted.
Razor sighed, growing serious. “You’ve all heard of the Devil’s Sinners? They run drugs out of Seattle and Washington. They’re an off-shoot of Devil’s Kings who’re mainly in Arizona and Texas.”
They all nodded.
“They’re making moves into Montana,” Razor told them. “Their foot soldiers have been hanging out in my neighborhood. Hassling the people that live there, selling drugs to kids. Made a few threats.”
“To you?” Ink asked.
Razor shook his head. “No, but they got one of my boys on his way home. Beat him up when he refused to join the gang.”
“Motherfuckers,” Spike said. Razor hired young ex-cons and helped them get a trade under their belts. He built custom bikes from scratch. People from all over the country came to him to have bikes built or to get special order paint jobs.
“You need some muscle?” Jason asked from where he stood leaning against the back wall, arms crossed over his massive chest. There were few people as big as Jason.
“I’ll let you know if it gets that far,” Razor told him. “Just wanted to give you all a head’s up to watch for these little pricks.”
Reyes cleared his throat. “Right. The other thing I have to talk to you about . . . well, I’m gonna come right out with it.”
Spike stared at their president in interest. He wasn’t usually someone to sound so uncertain.
“We need to take out Jonathan Robins Senior.”
3
Millie looked up at the name of the bar.
Reaper’s.
“Well, that’s not ominous or anything, Mr. Fluffy,” she said to her handbag. Well, to her dog which was in her handbag. She wasn’t keen on leaving Mr. Fluffy in the motel room on his own. He might get lonely. Also, she was worried he’d bark and someone would complain to the manager.
Not that the manager ever paid attention to anything but the 24/7 porn that played on the TV behind his desk. But it would be just her luck that he’d care about Mr. Fluffy.
So she’d brought the dog with her. He fit perfectly into her bag anyway. And he was no bother. Such a quiet, sweet thing. She didn’t know what breed he was. He had a black face with a brown, fluffy body.
He was the perfect purse dog. Calm and small.
Pretending a bravado she really didn’t feel, she stepped up to the door and opened it. The noise hit her first, followed by the smell of tobacco, beer and leather.
Reminded her of home.
She walked forward, headed towards the bar that was at the back of the room. Several men wore cuts with Iron Shadows patches on them. None of them had their name on them.