Page 1 of Ruger

The doorsto the bar pushed open as Gruesome rushed inside. The scowl on his face made me pause from reading my newspaper. He rushed over to me and paced before he spoke.

"Them motherfuckas got my sister, Ru! Them pussy ass Blaze Burners got my sister held up somewhere. I swear to God I'm killing every last one of them bitches! On God!" he yelled, kicking one of the chairs in front of me.

I instantly felt myself about to grab this nigga by his neck and snap it. I understood his frustration, but it was Sunday. A day I weaved out of my week to relax, and here he was, disrupting my peace.

Before I could say anything, my brother Jax stood from the barstool and grabbed Gruesome by his vest.

"Aye. Cool the fuck down, my nigga," he advised through gritted teeth. Grue stood, nostrils flaring and eyes red. I didn't know if he had been crying or if he was just that pissed. "You cool?" Jax queried.

"Yeah, man, I'm cool."

"Good. Now, slow down and tell us what happened." Jax knew — actually, all of them knew I hated to be disturbed, and it didn't take long for me to go from zero to irrational in a millisecond.

Interlocking my fingers as I placed my elbows on the table, I looked at him, nodding for him to proceed.

"Yesterday, my sister called me, telling me one of those Blaze bitches cornered her at the store, harassing her and shit. So, I paid his ass a visit and handled his ass. Today I get a call with my sister crying in the background and them niggas telling me to pull up. I gotta get her back, Ru."

I sighed deeply and removed my glasses, pinching the bridge of my nose a few times before leaning back in my chair and staring at him. I could tell he knew he came in here all wrong because not only did the anger melt from his face, but it was now replaced with worry. I'm sure by now he understood where he had fucked up at with his sisterandwith me. For one, Motor City Rebels were not only a motorcycle club founded by me and my brother, but we were indeed a brotherhood. We operated out of loyalty, respect, and honor. If one of us had beef, we all had beef. However, we didn't start shit with people. If homie stepped to his sister in a disrespectful manner, we usually tried to settle the beef by talking it out, but if niggas wanted smoke, we lit the fire. Although I was an enforcer — the nigga with no heart or patience, they dubbed me — I still knew how to pick my battles. Knowing the man that Grue was, I knew his ass popped off without knowing the full extent of what happened. First mistake.The second was him not making sure she was securedafterhe crashed out on her behalf. This was the fuck shit I didn't like.

"First, go back out that door, and try this shit again."

"Ru—"

"If I have to repeat myself, it's going to be a problem."

Grue huffed, then turned and headed toward the exit. Once he walked back inside, he calmly walked over to me as a smile drew up on my face.

"Oh, what up, Gruesome? How's your day going?" He looked at me, confused, while some of our brothers lightly chuckled.

Grue nodded, understanding where I was going with this. "My apologies, Ruger. This shit got me hot, and I don't have a lot of time. I need to get my sister back."

"Pull up a chair and have a seat."

Grue pulled up the chair he had kicked across the room.

"Now, while I am sorry to hear about the opps having your sister in custody, I have to say, this isyourfault. My first instinct is to let you handle this shit on your own. I do get a burning feeling in my body when women or children get in the middle of beef that doesn't involve them. It's weak shit to go after people who are vulnerable and can't defend themselves.

"You fucked up by not keeping her out of sight until we handled them niggas together. I should make you take over Mina's job and have you clean this bar from top to bottom as punishment, but that's too easy for you. I have something better planned for you, though," I told him as I stood. "Rebels, let's roll."

I headed toward the entrance, walked outside, and climbed on my bike. The rest of the crew followed suit as Jax walked over to me.

"I say let him take the lead on this. It's his fuck up."

"And he will. However, let's try to avoid the bloodshed today. I'm serious about protecting my peace. If I have to let baby Ruger out to play, his ass gon' pay for the daycare fees."

"Type shit." We did our secret handshake, and he hopped on his Harley, which was parked next to mine.

"Grue, take the lead," I instructed. He nodded, got on his horse, and pulled out.

The engines of nineteen motorcycles lit the highway. Gruesome took the lead with Jax and me behind him, and our crew followed up, heading to Southwest Detroit — Blaze Burner's territory. We and their crew had a silent beef for years, so them harassing Gruesome's sister wasn't lost on me. The clowns hated us for unknown reasons, but I believed it was because we were the most respected out of the majority of the biker crews. That, and the fact that we ran them out of our hood.

Jax and I started the club because we had been fascinated with bikes since we were teens. My father, Honor, had us hooked the moment he taught us how to ride. As I said before, we didn't start shit, but our ability to finish it was unmatched. Our gunplay was lethal, and once you got on our bad side, it was best to move out of the country and never return. I didn't play that disrespectful shit, and clearly, these Blaze bitches were fluent in it. They hated us because we gave back to our community, flushed all the drug dealers out, and had the police in our back pockets. You couldn't move a bag of weed without us knowing about it.

Blaze Burners were like outlaws, one percenters. They were the one percent of the population who didn't abide by any rules. They were ruthless, but not more ruthless than us, and I washonestly getting sick of these bitch ass niggas coming for us. I had been lenient on them because I didn't promote violence, and these pussy niggas were trying me because I didn't. I was letting Grue take the lead on this. It was his sister and was the reason the niggas touched her, but they were going to hear my voice. Nino, the head of the BBs, was going to hear me. If the nigga jumped out of pocket, he was going tofeelme. That truce he made was going to be forgotten if I had to get ignorant.

Thirty minutes later, we pulled up to the block where Nino's warehouse was located. Several bikes were parked in the front of the building. We revved our engines to gain their attention when the door to the warehouse lifted. I sat coolly on my bike before turning off the engine, getting off, and walking over to Grue.

"Let me handle this."

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