Hard Ride (Filthy Dirty Desires)

It’s a little after ten p.m. when I pull up to the Cool Cactus and park my Harley near the front. I’ve been to this bar before, and never had too much trouble here. It’s run by a friend of the club so in essence, it’s our club.

I take a seat at the oak-covered bar and order a beer. “Busy here tonight,” I say to the bartender, Curly.

“Rowdy bunch of college kids playing darts at the far end,” he says back.

I look over in that direction and spot the kids he’s talking about right away. Like a fraternity that took a wrong turn and ended up here. They certainly don’t belong in a club like this, but it’s none of my business.

“They giving you trouble?”

Curly shakes his head. “Nah, I’m watering down the shit outta their drinks.”

I laugh as I sip my beer. “Smart move.”

I scan the crowd for Lewis, making sure I haven’t missed him. If he can help in any way to figure out who’s framing us, I’ll be forever grateful. “Lewis here?” I ask Curly, and he nods toward the rear of the club.

I glance in that direction, but something catches my attention as I do. Betty Hutton dancing near the college punks in a tiny black number that shows off entirely too much of her perfectly porcelain skin.

Damn.

I take a long pull of my beer as I watch her dance for some twenty-something college asshole who wouldn’t even know how to fuck her properly if he tried. She backs her ass up against him while he runs his hands over her hips.

I set my beer bottle down, wondering what on earth she’s doing. I’ve never seen her at this bar before. Hell, I’ve never even seen her out. She’s not the type of woman who does this sort of thing.

So, why in the fuck is she here tonight? In a skimpy tight dress for that matter. Is she looking to get wild?

Is living under her father’s thumb finally taking a toll on her?

The way she twists her body and moves those graceful hips, I can tell she’s wound up tight and needs a good fuck to relieve all of that tension. I watch as she plays along with the dirtbag who’s getting too close to her. He kisses her cheek, obviously getting a bit too flirty. My blood boils.

“Hey, Curly,” I say. “Do me a solid and turn the music off? Got a killer headache.”

He doesn’t push back, just drops his towel on the glossy bar and does what I asked. Betty and her jackass dance partner look puzzled for a moment but move along to the dart area in the back.

“Long time,” someone next to me says, breaking my attention from Betty.

I glance over and meet the hard blue eyes of my friend and owner of this club, Lewis Stockton. “Hey,” I mutter, my mind itching to turn its attention back on Betty and the college guys.

“Heard you were here looking for answers.”

I nod, spinning in my chair to where my back rests against the bar, and I can see Betty in my line of sight. I won’t be taking my eyes off of her again. She doesn’t belong in a club like this, hanging around boys like that. “Got anything?”

Lewis shakes his dirty-blond head. “I wish I did, man. Everyone’s been tight-lipped about this heist job. I don’t think it was anyone local.”

I rub at the stubble covering my chin. “We were thinking that too. There’s no way the Golden Snakes could master a plan as detailed as this one.”

Whoever did this knew exactly where to find the trucks and killed the guards with semi-automatics. They were in and out within a matter of minutes. The Golden Snakes are a rival MC, just outside of Vegas, and know better than to come anywhere near King’s City or it’ll cause a war between the clubs. Honestly, when we first heard about this heist, we thought maybe it was them, but there’s no way those inbreds could have pulled off something this clever.

“I have to get back, but I’ll ask around.”

I shake Lewis’ hand and say, “Somebody has to know something, because it wasn’t us.”

Lewis nods. “Yeah, it’s not your style. Besides, you guys wouldn’t have the distribution to offload a shipment that large.”

“That’s another thing that’s got me wondering. Whoever took it has to be running them somehow. I’m sure they can’t move a shipment that big on the back of their bikes.”

“This is definitely a well thought out job.”

“Yeah, that’s what worries me most. I don’t want to be goin’ down for someone else’s crime.”

“I’ll ask my man down in Vegas, see if he’s heard anything.”

Betty laughs, gaining the attention of the skater punk college boy with blond hair and a team jacket for the state college. She runs her hand along his shoulder, and I watch the guy lick his lips.