Page 38 of Ignite

Wolf’s mind had already moved beyond the ruined headshop and its dead owner. If it was the Slaggers, they’d upped their game. Someone was backing them, as there was no way their club could get the explosives needed to level a building. One of their larger allies? A bigger club? Drug cartel like Baghouse said?

If the Knights didn’t step up now, there might not be another chance. It also might be too late already.

He turned away from the sight. “You get any intel, feel free to share. I expect this isn’t the last building or business that’s gonna go down.”

Denny made a hum of confirmation and stayed in his spot as the two bikers walked down the street to the strip club.

Very few dancers worked during the day, but there were always a few patrons in the late afternoon. Portia was on the raised stage, but her performance was lackluster, as only three men were there, sipping beer and staring at her bare breasts. None of them gave a hint about tipping.

Scrap and Baghouse sat in their usual spots with a game of chess in front of them. Two of the crossover prospects swept the floors, and another one was manning the bar.

Wolf held his temper in check as he addressed the president. “We need a church meeting.”

Scrap moved a knight. “What the fuck for?”

“I just came from the head shop, or what was left of it. They had to scrape Ed off the floor. We can’t keep ignoring this shit.”

“What the fuck are we supposed to do about it? Just leave it.”

Wolf gestured to the new recruits. “Tower sent us his three best recruits. We need to use them for more than cleaning and serving drinks. We have to get more weapons and ammo stockpiled. Set up patrols around the perimeters. Make our colors stand out. If we find any Slaggers in our territory, we send a message that they need to stay away or else.”

“We do that, blood’s gonna be spilt.”

“Blood’s already been spilt.”

Scrap slammed his hand on the table, making the chess pieces fall and scatter. “Last time I looked, I was still the leader of this club. I said leave it!”

Wolf clamped down on his rising temper. “You can stick your head in the ground, but that doesn’t mean the world stops.” His tone sharpened, and his words spat out like verbal punches. “The Slaggers will come back, and when they do, they’ll bring more than bullets fired in the air. You own this building, but no one owns the club.”

Baghouse grumbled as he set the pieces up for another round. “He’s right. We gotta handle those fuckin’ jagoffs soon.”

“Fuck off and make your move,” Scrap grumbled. “We ain’t doing shit.”

Wolf felt the dismissal and fumed with suppressed fury. Quillon was at his forge and would be incommunicado for the day. Camshaft and Crossman were at the machine shop or sleeping, as both of them were on duty tonight. He had no backup other than Baghouse, and he was full of hot air most of the time. The man could spew all the attitude, but when it came down to making a decision or stepping up, he was absent.

Wolf stalked away from the stubborn leader. When did Scrap lose his balls? The club dysfunction worsened every damn day, and no one had the guts to fix it. Visions of Ed’s blackened corpse floated in his mind as he stormed down the short hall. He happened to glance in room two and stopped dead at the sight.

Candie wasn’t giving a blow job this time. She was bent over and taking it from behind as that fucker Leo pounded into her.

Rage filled Wolf, and this time, he let it loose. The doorknob embedded itself in the wall as he flung it open. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Leo squealed and fell back, tripping over the tangle of work pants around his knees.

Candie’s scream was more of outrage than embarrassment from getting caught. “What the hell, Wolf? You can’t come in here while I’ve got someone with me!”

“I’m sick of this shit, Candie. You know damn well not to bang your clients here. You want to make money whoring yourself, that’s your business, but it does not come in here.”

She remained bent over, not caring in the least that her bare pussy was showing wide open. The harsh words didn’t faze her. “Leo only gets thirty minutes on his lunch break, and that asshole at the motel charges by the hour.”

Wolf couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “So pay for the hour.”

She had the nerve to roll her eyes. “That makes no sense.” She stood up, unconcerned by her naked state nor Leo’s scrambling movements as he righted his clothes. “Why should he pay for a whole hour when my room here is just as good, and no one is around anyway?”

Wolf’s anger ratcheted higher. He pointed a thick finger at Leo. “Get out.” His growl was low, but the menace was unmistakable.

The man paled and didn’t bother to say anything to his girlfriend. He just turned tail and ran.

Wolf turned back to Candie, who had crossed her arms under her breasts, plumping them up even more. “That’s not the point and you know it. This is not your private room or your personal business to do whatever the fuck you want to do.” He pointed to the door. “Go get dressed, get your shit, and get the fuck out!”

---