Page 23 of Toxic Biker

She sets her glass down on the low coffee table by the pool tables and plops down on the closest coach. “My father’s in politics, so he always wanted me protected. Now with Ripper…yeah, it’s a lost cause. Richardson lives his own club life, but whenever something comes up that needs his attention, then Richardson is left back to help protect me.”

My brows jump in surprise. I wasn’t expecting her to say all that. I’m guessing since she’s a part of the club, I can talk to her about what’s going on. “I’m losing my mind.” I attempt not to tear up. It’s hard though when I’m trying so flipping badly not to be angry, or worse, thinking Asher could end up dead in this mess along with Seth. Just considering the thought makes me want to puke my guts up. “They left me here with no information, not even a goodbye. They take my car so I can’t leave, and the guys here will tell me nothing. I overheard them talking last night about how my brother could be dead. They think it might be cartel related, and it’s taking everything in me to keep sipping this Wild Turkey and not completely lose my shit.”

She frowns, empathy in her stare as she stands and comes to me. In the next beat, she has her arms around me, holding me in a warm hug. She’s long and lean, while I’m kind of tall for a woman and very curvy, we couldn’t be more different, but I have a feeling we have more in common than I realize. “It’s not fair, at all, and I’m sorry you are dealing with this. Plague obviously cares about you a lot to go after these people and try to bring your brother back safely. My mother told me something when I was a little girl I’ve held on to. Is there anything you can do right in this very moment to change any of it?”

My lip wobbles as she draws back to look me in my eyes. I take a hefty swig, the cup nearly empty at this point. “The fucked-up thing…is I think the answer is no and I absolutely hate that.”

She nods. “It is fucked up, but in admitting that you’ve freed your shoulders from some of the guilt and grief you’re feeling right now. Would praying or drinking help you get through the day more?”

“Neither.”

“Pick one.”

“Let’s get drunk.”

“I think you and I are going to be good friends, Lacey,” she says with a kind smile and grabs my hand. She leads us behind the bar and glances at me with a new twinkle in her eye. “All this liquor. I think we can mix up some potions to make us feel a little better about being left behind here, then we’ll crank the music up and dance on the bar. You know why?”

I shake my head, wondering how she’s sucked me into this plan of hers so easily when I typically am not swayed as quickly.

“Because we can. No one’s here, so let’s take full advantage of having a biker bar full of neat stuff to our advantage.”

“Who are you?” I whisper.

“I’m the queen bitch around here, and I’ve just made you my new best friend. So buckle up, buttercup, because I’m about to make you forget about your troubles. At least for today,” she promises and grabs a giant fishbowl looking glass. “Now, what do we add first? Something to make us laugh and pass out,” she murmurs more to herself and reaches for the first bottle.

Chapter 11

If you feel like you’re losing everything, remember that trees lose their leaves every year and they still stand tall and wait for better days to come. - Japanese Legend

Plague

We left as soon as I received the address. Of course, the fuck sent it at four a.m. He probably thought I wouldn’t see it until mid-day and not have enough time to plan, but the jokes on him. I didn’t open the message, just screenshot the address in the small preview bubble that popped up on my phone. As far as he knows, I still haven’t read his text.

The guys and I got to Dallas; it took about two and a half hours from central Texas, but we made it. Rented a few hotel rooms so the brothers could take turns napping while those of us awake made sure we got everything we’d need. It gave us plenty of time to rent some vehicles and do an in-person recon on the club and the area surrounding it as well in preparation for nightfall.

Having Angel around has been an advantage for sure. He’s a scary fucker, especially with how easy he makes it all seem to garner the information we need. The night club is guarded all day. They make it appear like it’s closed for business with random employees around, but we see them for who they are. Mexican soldiers, watching one of their hot spots. I’d bet they have some drugs somewhere in that big ass building, along with women they’re selling. We should’ve brought in the Oath Keepers, as they’re the ones known for rescuing women, not us.

“Ready?” Ripper asks, glancing around the group of us.

We nod, yanking the balaclava into place on our faces. The fabric against my skin in the heat paired with the black combat style attire instantly makes my balls sweat in this Texas heat. Even at nighttime it’s ridiculous and the heavy clothes don’t help one bit. Prez was insistent we had to wear this if we were going in guns blazing like I want to. We’ve got the black fatigue pants with each pocket filled with replacement magazines, knifes, zip ties, and other shit we might need. Each of us is in a thick bulletproof vest over our plain black T-shirts with ATF stamped on it in bold white, so no one knows who the fuck we really are and norms will hopefully have enough sense to get the hell out of the way when we’re coming through.

I shift the strap over my chest of the new-to-me Yugoslavian M70 AK-47, getting used to wearing the weight of the weapon across my back versus carrying it. I won’t need it until we’re out of the bulk of the club goers and facing off with the cartel soldiers. We managed to pick the AK-47s up on our last run. We were only able to get enough to outfit the fully-patched members in our chapter, but getting caught with any extras would possibly bring down a distribution charge in a hot minute versus us being a group of mere ‘collectors.’

He continues, “Remember, move in two’s and watch each other’s backs.”

We nod and shift over to our respective partners we’ll be branching off with. I’ll have Powerhouse with me, which I’ll gladly take as he knows his weapons and can easily beat a man to death with his fists if needed. Angel insisted he stick with Prez, which I get, because we need Ripper protected. Wrench got stuck with Lunatic, the prospect, since he’s the newest patched member aside from Richardson. Blow had to stay back with the rented vehicles, much to his irritation, but Ripper was adamant one of them stay back and since he’s the prez, the choice is his.

Once we’re in position, we’re moving, just as we’d discussed in the hotel room, following the plan to a T. Wrench shoves his crowbar in between a wooden picket while Lunatic, Powerhouse, and I do the same. With a nod from Wrench, we pop them at the same time, grabbing and yanking the wooden planks back, as one unit and tossing them out of our way. Angel ducks in first, and we all have to go in sideways or we won’t fit with our gear on.

Powerhouse gets stuck and has to shoulder his way through, cracking two additional boards in his path. The outdoor smoking area we determined to be the weakest link turned out to be the perfect spot as there are two couples making out and all of five people actually smoking. Everyone’s into that vape shit now, like it’s supposed to be any healthier for you. I know more people whose shit has exploded on their person than I do people catching themselves on fire from a cigarette.

As soon as they see us, I expect them to scream, but instead, they quietly cower in fear. The moment we pass them, they take off running and escape through the opening we just used to get inside. Angel walkies Blow, telling them to catch the people and warn them this is an undercover investigation or some shit, and to really sell it so they don’t call the local cops and fuck our chances up. It ultimately means our clock starts right now with everything, and the notion brings a sense of panic and peace over me all at once. I’m going to kill someone tonight. I may end up in prison for the rest of my life, or I may bring Seth home and get away with everything. I won’t know until this is over and we’re safely back on our bikes.

“Watch your fucking heads,” Ripper grits as we file in through the heavy door leading inside. We may have vests on and be loaded down with weapons, but we have nothing protecting from a headshot. If one of these soldiers has any idea of what they’re doing, it could be a one and done for us if we’re not vigilant. I won’t forgive myself if my brothers end up in a body bag because of me. I know this mission of vengeance was voluntary and all, but I’d have figured out a way to come by myself. I may’ve not gotten far, but they’d all stay alive at least. They wouldn’t let me go at it alone, which is the true depth of our brotherhood.

The first thing I notice as the crowd of people begins to part from us is a woman on a goddamn horse. She’s in the middle of the room, in a sheer white outfit, riding a white horse with a spotlight shining down on them. The horse’s eyes and ears are covered, keeping it calm. It’s probably drugged to be in its state, surrounded by bodies in a massive room eclipsed by loud as fuck music from a DJ on a platform. I instantly want to kill whoever put that poor animal in the position; it deserves to be in a peaceful pasture somewhere living a comfortable life.

More women in sheer white outfits hang from the roof suspended in oversized rings, spinning and moving around them, reminding me of puppets. It’d be sexy if it wasn’t so goddamn trippy. I can only imagine what this would all look and feel like if I’d popped something before coming in here. I can also understand why the place is this popular, I’ve never been anywhere like this before and people love that sort of shit.

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