Page 78 of Dirty Salvation

Hawk was not known for his subtlety or having a rein on his temper if pushed, the man was a walking bad mood most of the time, but Rider couldn't give a fuck. He was pissed his VP had spoken that way about Zara.

Magical or not, her pussy wasHISbusiness, no fucker else's.

Both men glared before Hawk took the smart road less traveled...for the first time, ever and nodded his head in accord, his face hidden by his hair, eyes masked by coldness. He reached out and clapped Rider briefly on the shoulder as a somewhat unspoken apology to his lifelong friend, and strode across the garage.

Only then did the men breath again. A whoosh of noise.

"Holy mother Magdalena, who else just shit themselves?" Announced Capone with his unmistakable Hispanic accent. Rich chocolate eyes dancing with humor he threw a wrench up into the air and caught it on its down spin. "I mean, I would’ve put money on you, Prez, but Hawk ... maaaan, if looks could kill, Santa don't visit the funeral home,Hermano."

Guffaws joined the laughter, Rider smirked and got back to working on the '69 Fat Bob FXEFbrought in that morning. It was a thing of beauty, but unless he could find the part to fix it then she was good as a relic. He smoothed his hand over the chrome pipes admiring the old girl.

His boys were still flapping their jaws.

"I mean ... like ... Z-girl is hot, those eyes, man, but a magical Pu-----" Rider rose his head and pinned Capone the big mouth with a stare, an arch of his brow dared his Sergeant at arms with no vocal filter, to finish his sentence.Go ahead, I dare ya, bro.Fuck, Rider was a territorial motherfucker wanting to piss up Zara’s leg to make sure everyone knew she was taken. Theyknew, but still.

Capone in his busy manwhore life had the good fortunate to know when to quit while he was ahead of imminent death, the laugh stopping in his throat and he chose not to cap off what he'd been about to say about Rider's girl’s pussy.

Fucking clowns. Rider's boys were fucking clowns. Before a third fucking interruption happened, Maybe Snake wanted to belly dance or some shit, Rider got his hands dirty and back to work.

Only giving a passing thought of Zara's pussy he wanted to get into it.Magic. She was fucking magic to have him this wound tight. His Icy was a lot of things, but most of all she washis.

Now to persuadeherof that.

“Nice of her to drop by to see you,Presidente.” Teasing Capone commented. “Real nice. Notice we didn’t get a beer. I think she’s got herself a favorite.”

“Mmhm,” Rider said noncommittally, his mouth twitching.

He was fixing it so he was her favorite.

All in good time.

He worked on the hog to keep his hands busy. To keep them off Zara and her crazy friend’s idea, as clever as she was, she was pretty clueless to think they could ever be friends. Friends who fucked, he couldjustabout get on board that, even then he wanted more. No one who sticks their tongue in his mouth like she had wanted to be his fucking friend, now he'd convince her of that.

Stubborn girl.

He already had ideas in his dirty mind.

Between his dick issues with Zara, and the shit going down in his club, Rider wasn't sleeping much lately. His eyes were gritty and sore at the back of his skull, he'd slept last night in the cabin almost waking with hypothermia biting at his bones.

TheRebelbodies were taken care, the barn scrubbed clean by his prospects not even his mother would find a spec of DNA in there, and she was a good old fashioned southern woman who thought cleaning was a fine hobby to have.

And as satisfied as he was that there were no more Raging Rebel minions to deal with, the bigger issue of Hades was still pending. That cranked his fucking gut to think of him still alive somewhere. If death was ever designed for a sole person it was Hades; also, answers to dead man walking.

And Rider was determined to deliver it.

Two of his nomads were on a scouting mission, sending reports every night. The last Rider had heard there was not one sighting or whisper of him at any of his known haunts.

How could the man just up and disappear? Hades, what Rider knew of him and none of it was good, liked to gloat and showboat and for him not to hit back at Rider's club was unusual. He'd once swore out a full-scale war withApollo Kingsmen MCover a lousy bar-room pool bet. If he left Hades out in the wind, it gave that fuckstick time to regather nomads and men from other chapters. As it was, Rider and his club had sent a giant message to The Raging Rebels;Don't step on my patch. Not now, not ever. Rider wasn't gonna give Hades an inch to find his footing, to get back in the game.Not gonna happen. He was going to see to it that for his club's sake and more importantly, for Zara's sanity, that Hades was put to ground and soon.

Hawk liked blood on his hands like he was Cleo-fucking-patra bathing in ass’s milk, Lawless was a demon with a blade who got off on cutting up bodies until they resembled ground beef, his men could pick over the carcasses of any stragglerRebelswho would dare set foot in this territory again, but Rider himself wanted to deal with Hades.

Kyle fucking Williams. Such a normal boring name for a piece of shit President-wannabe. The name didn’t maketh the man, but the reputation sure as hell did.

Hades had driven his club into shit along with the members he’d taken on over the years. Talk about scraping the barrel to the bare bones.

Rider had seen maggots with better reputations.

The Raging Rebels were the kind of MC to give all outlaws a bad name. Hades was a president who didn’t care about his club only that he held the gavel and spat out the orders. Rider might be a one percenter, but he never shit where he ate. This was his town, his people and he loved every square inch of Armado Springs. He wouldn’t suck his town dry of all resources, that was just counterintuitive to his own businesses.

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