Page 6 of Bad Luck, Hard Love
I stand too, my movements deliberate and controlled. The other members shift closer, their boots scuffing against the floor like wolves circling prey.
“Everything this chapter does is my concern. You wear our colors. You fly our banner. That makes it Raze's business, which makes it mine.”
Ace's laugh is harsh and bitter, “Your president's gotten soft, Thor. Peace and prosperity bullshit. But out here in the desert, we still remember what it means to be Heaven's Rejects.”
“And what's that supposed to mean?”
“It means we take what we want. We don't ask permission from some reformed biker playing house back in Upland. I think it’s time for you to leave, boy. Tell your president we don’t need his nose poking into our business.”
“I'm not going anywhere until I get answers.”
“You got your answers,” Ace snarls. “Now get the fuck out before we make you.”
Striker, Ace’s enforcer, cracks his knuckles with anticipation, a grin spreading across his face that tells me he's hoping I'll resist. Smart money says I should back down, ride out, and report to Raze. But smart money doesn't know shit about loyalty.
“You don't get it, do you?” Ace steps closer, his breath hot with whiskey and menace. “This isn't a negotiation. This isn't Church where you get a vote. This is me telling you to get the fuck out of my clubhouse before things get ugly.”
I take a slow breath, scanning the room. Five, no, six members have formed a tight circle around us. Each one towersover me, which says something considering I’m 6’4”. Striker's hand drifts to his waistband, where the outline of something heavy disrupts the leather of his cut. The odds aren't just bad—they're suicidal.
“I'll go. But this conversation isn't over.”
“Oh, I think it is.”
I back toward the door, careful to keep everyone in my line of sight. No sudden movements. No turning my back. The wooden floor creaks beneath my boots as I retreat, the sound impossibly loud in the tense silence.
“Smart choice,” Ace calls after me. “Tell Raze if he wants to know what's happening in Vegas, he can drag his ass out here himself.”
The night air hits me like a relief when I step outside. My bike sits where I left it, untouched but surrounded by their motorcycles. I swing my leg over the seat, the familiar leather offering little comfort as I kick the engine to life.
The rumble echoes off the clubhouse walls as I turn toward the gate. In my mirror, I catch Ace and his crew watching from the doorway, their silhouettes black against the yellow light.
Settling back on my bike, I pull away from the clubhouse and ride into the neon-soaked Vegas night. The city lights blur past as I navigate through the streets, my mind racing faster than the engine beneath me. Ace's words echo in my head—money is worth more than Raze's word. Whatever the Vegas chapter is into, it's big enough to risk breaking away from the mother chapter.
The hotel V had booked for me looms in the distance. The streets are bustling with people. Their colorful clothes and elaborate costumes catch in the flickering lights as I approach my hotel.
I follow the signs until I find a motorcycle spot in the parking garage. Collecting my things, I head inside and check in before heading to my room.
The room, it turns out, is a suite. V apparently didn’t skimp on the accommodations. A full kitchen sits just off the entrance, and a sitting room lies behind it. The separate bedroom with an ornate gold king-size bed consumes the left side of the suite. Depositing my saddlebag onto the bed, I retrieve my phone and call Raze. He answers on the second ring.
“Did you make contact?” I know that tone. It’s the one he uses when things are already halfway to hell.
“I did,” I say, exhaling as I sink into the armchair by the window. The Vegas skyline stretches out below, glittering and indifferent. “Went about as well as you figured. Not great.”
I can practically hear his grimace. The silence on the other end is thick before he speaks again.
“Yeah… I had a feeling,” he mutters. “Ace has never gone radio silent like this. Something’s wrong.”
“It’s more than wrong,” I drag a hand through my hair, tension prickling beneath my skin. “His crew’s neck-deep in something ugly. They’re not just ignoring us—they don’t want our interference at all.”
“You know who they’re in bed with?”
I stand up, restless energy driving me toward the small kitchen. The refrigerator hums softly as I pull it open for a beer, its cool glass sweating in my grip, “Not yet,” I admit after taking a sip, the bitterness matching my mood. “Ace was cagey—real tight-lipped about details. Whatever it is, it’s big money. A deal worth cutting the mother chapter out completely.
“A deal?” Raze echoes.
“Yeah,” I continue, leaning against the counter while my mind sifts through potential players. “That’s all he would say about it.”
Raze is silent for a moment. “Okay, keep digging. See if you can learn more about this deal and who is involved with it. We need to know what we’re up against.”
