We arrive in Waco, Texas as the sun slides beneath the horizon. It’s Saturday night, which means a party, regardless of the aftermath of New Year’s Eve. The closer I get to the ranch the Devils call home, the angrier I become, and yet, the more focused.
I halt right outside the property line, and Savage does the same. I rip off my helmet and latch it to the side of the bike, but I don’t dismount. Again, Savage does the same.
“What’s the plan?”
“Find a good view of the property. I’ll be at the back of the clubhouse. If I die, kill Waters and Deleon. I’ll make sure you know who they are.”
“Better yet, let’s do it together. We’re like Thelma and Louise, road trip buddies.”
“Thelma and Louise died, and they were women.”
“Okay then, you picky-ass bitch,” he grumbles. “Name another movie.”
“I’m going in, Savage. And don’t fucking kill them. They tried to kill my brother and my woman. These are my kills.”
His lips press together. “Don’t die.”
I rev my engine and set the Ducati in motion. A mile up the road, the clubhouse is in view but there’s no guard on duty. Why would there be? What fool walks into a snake’s nest? The kind who doesn’t know how to avoid falling in the pit, I think, but I do.
Tonight is fight night, the club’s version of the UFC.
I park the bike and I’m off, focused, calm. I walk around the clubhouse to the left, and then to the back. At least thirty guys, and a dozen women, huddle around the fight circle with hard rock, booze, sex, and drugs lighting up the night more than the fire. At the head of that circle, I’ll find Waters, on a ridiculous throne, with Deleon by his side. I enter the mix as if I belong when I never belonged here, but not one of these fools even notices me. That is until I step into the circle. And that’s when I find Waters, on his throne, alive and well. He has a redheaded woman named Bella on his lap. He’s abused that woman for years of her life and today, I’ll take her with me when I leave. I’ll make sure she’s free.
As for Waters, he looks good, muscled up, healthy, a few new tats brightening up his right arm. I know everything about him. I spent years studying him. Learning him. Wanting to kill him.
For a moment, no one notices me, and then suddenly Waters’ eyes meet mine. He sets Bella aside and lifts a hand and shouts out a command of, “Silence!” The music cuts off. Everyone is silent.
“I was expecting you, Adrian,” Waters says. “Nice of you not to disappoint.”
“Bold of you,” I counter, “to wait for me here when you’re supposed to be dead.”
“I wanted to be sure you found me,” he says, his lips curved in amusement.
“Kind of you not to make me hunt you down and kill you. Instead, I can do it here.”
Deleon stands. “You’re the one who’s going to die tonight.”
The crowd starts chanting, “Fight, fight, fight.”
I step deeper into the circle. “Bring it. Unless you’re afraid, Deleon.”
He snorts. “Afraid of you? Never.”
“I seem to remember planting your face in the floor and tying you up the last time we met.”
Deleon, always easily provoked, folds his shoulders forward, and steps into the circle. “Piece of shit FBI agent. I’ll show you to hell.”
The chants continue and Waters lifts a hand. “Silence!”
The chants stop. “Fight to the death, Adrian.”
“If he dies, you fight me,” I say. “You prove you deserve to be King.”
His lips press together. “You’d like that.”
“I’d love that,” I assure him. “You wouldn’t. Deal?”
The crowd is watching and when the King is challenged, he must answer. That’s how the club works. “Deal,” he says. “But if I live, and you die, I promise you, Rafael and Priscilla will not survive my wrath as they did last night.”
Deleon lunges at me with a knife when the fight is supposed to be bare-handed. He was always a cheater. The crowd erupts.
And while I held back the last time I fought Deleon because Pri was watching, I’m not this time. In my mind’s eye, I see that explosion behind her and I know how easily she could be dead right now. I dodge Deleon’s lunge, come up behind him, knock the knife out of his hand, and shove him to the ground. By the time he scrambles around, face down to face up, I’m over the top of him. This fight shouldn’t be this easy—he and I have always been well-matched, but tonight, it is that easy. I slam the knife into his heart. And then he’s dead.
The crowd goes eerily silent.
Waters draws in a deep breath, his chin lifting slightly. He stands, a beast of a man, a killer, who unlike Deleon, will not die easily. He steps into the center of the circle and we stand toe-to-toe.