Page 53 of Red's Peril: Part 1

“None taken,” she says with a wink. “From your expression, at least I know I still have it.”

“Tiff,” Fox warningly growls, but he manages a smile with it. Guess he trusts her—well he patched her—so he must be sure of her.

“Anyone else taken?” I eye the two who do look like club girls who have just entered. They look young, barely legal.

Twister looks where my attention has settled and barks a laugh. “Nah, that’s Pixie and Angel, our club girls. We did have another…” As his voice trails off, Fox again growls, and this time distinctly with displeasure.

I don’t ask questions, just bank that for later. I’m sure all the club secrets will gradually come out.

“Just don’t come on to Rosa,” Fox warns me. “Unless you don’t value your balls. She’s prez’s.”

Twister gives a snort which I don’t immediately understand as two kids, both boys, come tearing into the room. They’re screaming and laughing, using the legs of one large, older biker, to hide behind. They’re quickly followed by a woman, who has to be at least forty.

“Tristan, Thomas. You come here right now.” She wiggles her finger. “And don’t think Titch will protect you.” She pauses and points a finger at the old man. “And don’t you encourage them.”

“Hey, Rosa,” the grey-haired and bearded biker holds up his hands. “I ain’t doing shit.” At her raised eyebrows he chooses another word. “Anything.” He rolls his eyes, and more quietly but equally audibly complains, “Fuck this watching my language.”

“Fuck! He said fuck!” 0ne of the boys who have to be twins they look so identical screams out, then covers his mouth with his hands before collapsing in giggles.

“Want a hand corralling the little f… devils?” Another biker steps up, grabbing the backs of each of the boys’ shirts. They wriggle but can’t get free.

“Thanks, Cobra,” the tired and frazzled woman replies. “They need their showers.”

“We don’t,” one says, obviously speaking for the other.

“Pooh.” Cobra bends down and sniffs. “I think you do. You don’t want to chase off the girls, do you?”

“A little less about girls, please, Cobra.” Rosa rolls her eyes. “Think I’ve got enough to worry about before we get to that problem.”

The boy who hadn’t as yet spoken wriggles out of Cobra’s grip, turns around and places his hands on his hips, then says, authoritatively, “Girls suck.”

I’m not the only one who can’t suppress a snort.Yeah they do, kid. If you ask them right.

With one boy in her grasp, and Cobra bringing the other who’s trying unsuccessfully to wriggle out from under his arm, the two walk over to the industrial metal staircase and drag their unwilling captives to the top.

Twister watches until they disappear from sight. “Guess you’ve now met Rosa, Brick’s ol’ lady, and their two obnoxious brats.” He says it in a friendly manner, with no malice. Especially when he adds, “Keep your eye on them, they get up to all manner of shit in the club.”

“How old are they?”

He answers with an expression between a grin and a grimace, “Four. Going on teenagers already.”

“Where is the prez?” I look around, not recalling seeing him since I got off my bike.

“In his office, I expect.” Fox frowns once again. “He’ll have shit to catch up on having been away for two days.”

At least he takes the club seriously. A part of me wonders whether we’ll see more of him once his two terrors are in bed.

Chapter Twenty

Two hours later, I’ve got a decent buzz on. My saddlebags are still at my feet, but I’ve spent the time socialising, and getting to know my new brothers. The Vegas club is smaller than Tucson, with ten members and two prospects as far as I can tell. The three that had gotten themselves arrested and locked up appear not to be spoken of, so I don’t ask.

Sometime back, I propped my ass on a bar stool, as I got into conversation with Titch. Brick, I’d place in his early fifties, and Titch probably a couple of years older. A real old-timer, I note him as someone to talk to if I want to learn more about the background of the club.

I spend a few minutes talking to Keys, their computer expert, immediately realising why Drummer thought Tse was a good find. Though more than half the talk of technology goes way over my head, the kind of shit he can do must come in useful at times.

Hammer, well he seems solid. It doesn’t take me that long to discover I’ve met most of the club, with the exception of the second prospect who’s already picked up a road name of Shadow, as he can creep up unawares on almost anybody. Inadvertently, he’d given me an example, and I’d nearly dropped my beer from my hand.

When there’s a natural lull in conversation, I ask where my room is as I’m well past needing a piss and a chance to freshen up.

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