Making of Them (Beating the Biker 3)
“What the fuck you want, pendajo?” Pez growled.
“I’m wondering what design you want for your next prison tat,” Luke taunted.
Pez scoffed and made a dismissive wave of his hand. “Get your ugly ass off my property.”
Saks stepped forward, swinging the chain lightly from his hand. “Who the fuck hired those guys who shot me and Hawk?”
“How the hell do I know, cabrón? Look, I already talked to your buddy there, what’s his name?”
“Louis Anglotti?
“Yeah. I’ve got nothing more to say.”
Luke jumped over the railing of the porch and swung the chain in his hand. “I ain’t the police, and I have plenty of scores to settle with you pieces of crap. Spit out what you have, or you’ll be spitting your teeth out on the porch.”
Pez cocked an eyebrow at him. “Really, esé. After all, we’ve meant to each other?”
Saks had to admit it. Pez was one cocky mother, but that’s why he was the head of the Rojos in the state. “Hey, Pez. Eyes over here,” Saks called. “He’s just here backing me up. Your problem is with me.”
“I don’t think so, cabrón. The Rojos and the Hombres didn’t have anything to do with that clusterfuck. Do you think we’d pass up the chance to beat some gringo ass, especially you jotos, eh? Plus, we wouldn’t screw it up, either.”
“Pez, your language grows more colorful by the day,” Luke said. He spoke Spanish, so he understood the insult. Saks couldn’t care less. He was here for a purpose.
“Pez,” Saks al
lowed, “if what you say is true, why have you been hanging around wherever I am and giving me shit?”
The gang leader’s lips curled up. “Just to yank your chains. And look, you brought them.”
“Asshole,” Luke snarled.
“He has a point, Luke. Plus, these bastards are too cheap to hire help.”
The door behind Pez swung open on creaky hinges as other Rojos members shook the sleep from their eyes. Things were beginning to swing against Saks’ favor, and sticking around didn’t seem a good idea.
“Now, you pendajos,” Pez instructed, “get off my property before there’s a real beat-down. And I’m only letting you go because I owe you, pendajo, for helping us with winterizing our bikes. But I think we’re even now.”
“Luke,” Saks said, “we got what we came for.”
Luke snarled then hurled himself off the porch.
“You can call it even,” Luke spit, “for that. But you still owe for what you did to Saks and doing business with my uncle. Keep out of my way, because I’m not always this nice.”
“Yeah, I know, pendajo. You’re a real hard ass.” Pez snorted through his nose derisively. “Next time you decide to visit, call ahead.”
Pez jiggled his fingers, curled in the universal “call me” sign by his head, making his men laugh.
Luke and Saks jumped into the truck and rolled down the hill. “Fuckers,” Luke grumbled.
“I agree. But that’s one jelly packet down.”
“What?” Luke said.
“What Okie did in the diner—never mind. But for once, the asshole told the truth.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Chrissy’s throat clenched upon hearing her father’s question. It wasn’t a topic she wanted to discuss right now, or ever if she could help it.