Saving Della Ray

“You know he’s a bit of a nut head,” Snake said mildly. “We’re still thinking of what w—”

“Let me help you there,” Vice cut in. “Take away his patch, and send him over to us. And we’ll settle the score of his offenses in our bar directly with him.”

“We can’t do that,” Tyler answered instantly, his voice warned them that the issue was not up for discussion or negotiation.

“Then how do you suggest we solve this then?” Vice asked, his voice low and threatening.

Just then, I heard a vehicle drive up and turned to see a pickup truck a few yards away from us. It was pulling into the arena. Four members of the rival club jumped out of it. Then the driver jumped out and began to put on leather gloves and I was instantly on guard. “What’s that bastard over there doing?” I asked.

We all saw the corners of the driver’s mouth lift in a sick smile. I could see that Tyler had also noted his gloves.

“Tell him to move away from that truck,” Snake said. “We want to see what’s behind him.”

“It’s no biggie,” Warden said. “Calm yourself, man.”

“If he makes one wrong move, this entire arena will turn into a grave site,” Tyler stated as a thick blue vein was already ticking on his temple. It was throbbing with the thirst for blood. He bared his teeth at the men around the truck in a humorless smile that rattled my bones.

“May I remind ya’all that this place is packed with cops? One wrong move and we’ll all be spending the next decade in jail,” Snake said.

“We definitely won’t be joining you.” Vice laughed. “Our support gear is bringing in quite the buck so the best attorney is not a problem. Your club however, I hear is still … struggling. How many of those shirts have you all been able to sell this month?”

Flash fast and before any of us could even react, Tyler’s fist swung into the air and smashed Vice squarely in the jaw.

The big man staggered backwards before falling heavily into the grass. It was as if the very earth under our feet quaked. In that moment, I could feel the entire air of the arena change as all eyes left the race and turned to us.

“The fuck.” Warden turned to us.

Snake also turned to Tyler. “Calm down,” he immediately intervened, his hands raised. “You both know how quickly this can get out of hand.”

Vice, red with embarrassment jumped to his feet, but before he could pull out whatever he had in his pocket, his president crashed into him to shake him to his senses.

I noted the moments as they passed, my hand was just within reach of the gun I had tucked into the back of my jeans. Come on. Don’t fucking do it.

“I’m gonna fucking kill him,” Vice roared out his anger. He was furious at being hit in front of all these people.

I noticed then that some top-ranking members of the Hells Angels, Durban brotherhood, and the Mongols began to approach us from every side. Vicious looking men, most with protruding bellies and wild beards, their glares hidden behind their small framed glasses. My attention shifted from the brawl in front of me to the president of the Mongols club as he approached along with the pack.

As I stared unblinkingly at him, whatever civility I had nursed through this entire debacle dissipated quickly and was replaced by the vicious thirst for blood that had driven me into this life in the first place. Two years ago, he had shot and killed Mace Herald the only true friend I had in this damn world. Barely an hour after I had spoken to him, he was gunned down by the monster who was now approaching me.

He held my gaze too, as he neared. No doubt, he was perplexed as to why I always had my gaze fixed on him anytime we came into contact. He didn’t look away and kept his equally unblinking gaze on me.

The Hells Angels President, Leroy Dawson spoke, “Y’all need to take this somewhere else. This whole place is crawling with bugs and they’re looking to take us all down. The war is not going to be between just you two anymore, if that happens.”

Snake stepped up to the Deaths Hand president. “One more time, what are you going to do about the boy who lost his legs through your attack?” He looked between the leaders and his still fuming sergeant of arms.

“We can’t solve this today,” Warden said. “Let’s tackle this another time.”

“He needs his medical fees covered.” I growled. “Today. What are you going to do about that?”

“You should have fucking restricted that dog you call a member to behave then. And we don’t fucking owe—”

My gun flew out at the speed of light and pressed right against his forehead.