Page 12 of Sinful Need
“That's a good enough reason for me. We need to make sure they don’t harm her or anyone else again. Carracci sent his jet last night. It’s on standby waiting for our decision. What do you say?” Chainz brings it to a vote.
The club is unified in its decision, including me, despite my hesitation to return to Barlow. There’s nothing I want more than to take the Viper’s Den out.
“Then it’s final. Pack a bag, say your goodbyes and let's get in the air. The longer we wait the riskier it gets.” Chainz bangs the gavel drawing Church to a close.
Chapter 7
Fuel
I stare down at the lighter in my hand, rolling it through my fingers. The Viper’s Den insignia engraved on the casing has drudged up old memories best left forgotten. I spent years stomping on the trauma my past has caused. I sound like a pussy, I know, but back then that’s what I was. I was seventeen and not built for the life the Viper’s Den was offering. The bloodshed, the ruthlessness, the pure dog eat dog lifestyle that left every man for himself and the women with scars they’d never overcome. I didn’t deserve a patch, not that I wanted to wear that one anyway and I sure as hell didn’t deserve Rayne. I put miles underneath my tires, eating up the asphalt as I outran the memories.
I’m not a pussy anymore. It took thousands of miles running from coast to coast before I ended up with the Krymson Destroyers. That’s where I learned what a true brotherhood was. We have each other's backs through thick and thin. Broke down on the side of the road or facing a life threatening situation, we’ve learned to trust one another. We’re family even when we’re fighting. Prospecting with the Krymson Destroyers taughtme my strengths and showed me where I belonged. I fought hard, I worked hard and I earned my colors and my rank.
Stretching my legs out in front of me, I flip the lighter open and snap it closed again.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Tank and Cobra giving each other a look before flopping down on either side of me. “Put that fucking thing a way before you blow this sardine can out of the air.”
I shoot them both a side eye glance and slip the lighter in the pocket of my cut.
“You’ve been sitting here wallowing in misery since we left. Have a fucking beer.” Tank shoves an unopened bottle to my chest. I take it and pop off the cap, swallowing it down.
“I don’t like planes. It’s unnatural hovering above the ground at this altitude.” I shrug off their concern. I don’t want to admit that the closer we get to our destination the more I feel like I’m being dragged down into the cesspool I left behind.
“I hear that Brother, but a cross country trek wouldn’t have been a pleasant ride.” Tank takes a sip of his beer, stretching his oversized feet into the aisle.
“And there wouldn’t be stewardesses that look like that.” Cobra bolts from his seat, goosing the tall blonde in a tight black mini dress passing by on the ass.
She yelps, spinning around to clobber him but he grabs her wrist and whispers something in her ear. A grin spreads across her flushed cheeks and within seconds she’s leading him toward the back of the plane as quick as her four inch heels can carry her. Tank and I chuckle. Cobra has always been a man whore. There isn’t a pussy around he wouldn’t fuck as long as she has a nice rack.
“Sure beats flying commercial.”
“Carracci came through on this plane.” I take another swig of my beer, “What’s the plan when we land?”
“You tell me. You know these mother fuckers better than any of us. Is this a wild goose chase or is the Viper’s Den involved in this shit?”
It’s more than a question for Tank, he’s looking for a reaction. We’ve already had this conversation around the table in Church. All signs point to the Viper’s Den being involved, somehow, with the trafficking ring we took out recently. How else would Jules have found the lighter in the warehouse the girls were being held at? This is personal for Tank. His Ol’ Lady Dia was lucky we found her before anyone hurt her but Jules, Andrea and the other girls we rescued weren’t as lucky. A personal vendetta for one of us, is personal for all of us. Our club has made it our mission to take these fuckers down and the Viper’s Den will get what’s coming to them.
“I’ve been gone for a long time but if Hawk is still Prez, I would bet my left nut on it.”
Tank raises his eyebrow, “That’s a serious bet dude. Wanna talk about what went down there?’
“Nope.” I lean back against the plush leather seat, “I wanna get some shut eye.”
Tank nods his head and strides back to his own seat. With only eight of us on the plane, there’s plenty of room to space out. Chainz and Tank settled in the front two captain’s chairs across from each other, with Reaper sacked out on the bench seat opposite them. Crusher is sitting across the aisle from me studying maps on his computer to plan our routes and figure out where the hell eight over-sized bikers can stay and be inconspicuous. Hound and Freedom are sipping beers and watching a movie in the rear of the plane and Cobra is probably balls deep in the stewardess by now in the private bedroom in the far back.
Tensions are high and the sudden dip of the plane doesn’t help. Eight grown men, each known to be deadlywhen duty calls, grip their fists against the arms of the seat at the unexpected dip. The fasten seatbelt warning lights up overhead the cockpit door and the pilot’s voice comes through the overhead speakers, “We’ve started our descent. Please fasten your seatbelts while the cabin crew prepare for landing.”
We let out a collective breath of relief and my brothers waste no time busting jokes to release the tension.
“Damn, I was about to kiss my ass goodbye.”
“Good thing you can reach. No one else would put their lips on that thing.”
“Your momma wasn’t complaining when she had her tongue in it last night.”
Something goes spiraling through the air from the front of the plane, Crusher ducks and it soars over his head. “Damn what was that?”
“That’s what she said.”
