Page 50 of Dagger

“You lied to her?” Gio’s brows shot up and he shook his head, a small smile on his face. “That’s not a good way to start a new relationship.”

“It’s not a relationship,” I insisted.

“Relationship or situationship,” Gio shot back with a shrug. “Doesn’t matter. Women don’t like being lied to.”

I knew he was right, but seeing how worried Sinclair looked when I mentioned the Dead Ravens, I didn’t want her fretting, so I’d told her I had some club business to deal with.

I looked up at the roadside bar, a wooden shack you’d miss if you passed it on the highway. “Looks like they’re here,” I nodded to the group of about five bikes clustered on the other side of the entrance. One had the Dead Ravens logo on the gas tank. Diesel and Rocky had decided to show up along with Rebel, leaving the rest to hang back unless they were needed.

“Let’s go inside.” Diesel led the way. A few eyes landed on us as we entered, and most quickly turned back to their drinks or the music that blasted through the speakers.

“Over there.” I pointed to a corner table where five bikers sat around drinking beer and laughing. They wore black and purple colors, each patched with one dead raven clutched in the mouth of another. I wiped my palms on my jeans and took a few deep breaths to calm down. It wouldn’t do any fucking good tomake a scene from the get-go. I’d give them a chance to answer my questions first.

And then I’d kick their asses.

My hands balled into fists and then stretched out, again and again as we made our approach. They were oblivious, the dumb fucks, just laughing and shootin’ the shit over shots and beers. “Gentlemen,” I said, clapping the closest one on the back, scaring the fuck out of him in front of his club brothers.

He looked over his shoulder at me, after he gasped like a little bitch, and frowned. “Do I fuckin’ know you?”

“Not yet, but you’re about to. Real soon.”

He shook his body in an attempt to free my hand. “Then get your fuckin’ hands off me.”

“Of course,” I said with a friendly smile as I looked around the booth, taking in the details of the Dead Ravens. They never ranked much on our radar because they were too small to matter, but I could see they were young and eager, but they were also lazy. “As soon as we get a few things settled.”

One with pale blond hair stood and scowled. “We ain’t got shit to settle, so get the fuck outta here before you piss me off.”

Ah, there we are.

I flashed a smile and gripped his friend’s shoulder even tighter. “And what’s gonna happen if you get pissed off, Pee-Wee?”

“You don’t wanna find out, now get the fuck gone!”

“I’ll go when I’m ready. For now, me and my friends have a few questions for you.” I looked around again, taking in each man’s reaction, pegging the weak link. “We just have a few questions and then you can get on with your night.”

“What are you, a fucking undercover cop?”

I smirked. “Why, are you a snitch?” It was the insult to end all insults in this world, and I watched in amusement as he tried to keep his emotions in check. “If that’ll help you answer my questions, you can call me Detective Dagger.”

Gio and Rocky snickered, earning more scowls from the group.

The blond lunged forward, but a guy with a black buzz cut stopped him. “Ask your fuckin’ questions.”

“Why did you vandalize my shop?” It was an easy question, but how they answered would determine where we’d go from there.

They all laughed. They fucking laughed and my hands balled into fists so tight my knuckles ached.

“Okay, the hard way, then.” I pulled my arm back until my fist was right by my jaw and unleashed a jab that sent the asshole’s head flying back wildly. “Works for me.” I hit him again and then chaos reigned.

Fists flew and blood drops splattered on the fake leather booths, the sticky linoleum floors, and even the scratched wooden table. We fought with men half our age, bruising our knuckles until they were bloody.

“Get the fuck out!” The owner, a silver-haired dude who looked like an aging hippie, smacked an aluminum bat on the table to get our attention. “I don’t give a shit what you do to each other, but don’t do it inside my bar. Your drinks will be waiting when you get back.”

Forty long seconds later and we were out in the lot behind the bar staring each other down. “Hit me again, asshole, don’t just sucker punch.”

I stepped forward and sent a jab flying straight at his nose. “Is that better?”

He held his bloody nose and stared at me in shock, as if he couldn’t really believe I hit him. Again.

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