Page 36 of Fox and Nitro
“We had an appointment with Jazz’s class to model, so we thought we’d make a good impression.”
He stares at us as if we’ve grown two heads. “I don’t give a shit what you’re wearing. Why are you both walking like you stepped out of the wild fucking west? Legs all fucked up.” He waves at our stances and I can’t argue.
My legs are killing me, and don’t get me started on my tender balls after Nitro fucking slipped and punched them.
“Those little snots got ya, huh?” Pops asks, beaming at our pain.
“You know what? I don’t give a shit. We’re leaving to go find the cock suckers who bugged the station.” Marx growls.
“Chewy got a hit on the address?”
“Yeah, so if you don’t want to ruin your fancy clothes, you might wanna get changed.” He stomps out the door barking more orders to the other brothers.
You don’t have to tell me twice. I head out the door, jumping down from the wrap around porch heading toward mine and Nitro’s trailer. We have a house planned, but until then we’re still in the trailer that was assigned to us when I was shot in the gut. I shake off those memories, the ones that remind me how fucking scared I was that I was going to die before I told Nitro how I felt about him. They don’t matter anymore. Not when I’m here living one half of my greatest fantasy, to fully be with my best friend. The other half of that fantasy is somewhere freaking out about going on a date with us, I’ll bet. Afriendsdate. But it’s still one, nonetheless.
“Babe, stop daydreaming, we gotta go,” Nitro says, patting me on the ass as he heads out the door in messy ripped jeans on stiff legs.
I shuck off my good jeans, replacing them with buttery soft jeans that have been broken in for years. I hobble out of the trailer, letting the door shut behind me. No need to lock anything when you live in an MC compound. I follow my man to our parked bikes, our brothers all mounted up waiting for us. Seems almost the whole club is riding out, apart from Niko who stands on the porch with his mom, along with Pops and Mad Dog. Someone needs to stay here and protect the women, even though I know for a fact they’re pretty fucking dangerous on their own.
I move to throw my leg over my bike and fuck me if it doesnt hurt like a bitch just trying to mount my girl. Goddamn! Darting my eyes to Nitro, I notice he’s not faring any better either, his jaw clenching in pain. Starting up my Harley Davidson Road Glide, I let the vibration rattle through me, soothing me and helping me forget the ache in my balls.
Marx circles his finger in the air, Judge nods once and we slowly pull out onto the road, in our usual formation, Nitro at my side. We ride out of town, headed toward the neighboring town where rich fucks like Roman live. Not too far from ours, only around a 20 minute ride, but the differences between the two are like night and day. Where Rose Grove is somewhat old fashioned and run down, Wexler is built on old money and new crime lords. Case in point: Roman.
Cruising down the main road it’s not hard to see the wealth. There are women in the street mincing around in their pencil skirts and high heels. Ana makes a helluva lot more sense to me now. I always thought she was out of place with the rest of the MC women in her fancy silk blouses and shit. But seeing these women and knowing Ana’s office is in this town, it all makes sense.
Rider catches my eye as he winks at a blonde in the street who blushes at him before catching herself and plastering a hoity toity look on her face. He laughs, shaking his head, following close behind Marx who takes a few turns before stopping in front of a jeweler.
“You sure this is the place?” Marx rasps, eyeing the fancy as hell font on the front window.
“Does Chewy ever make mistakes with this shit?” Rhodie raises a brow at his brother.
Marx tips his chin before swinging his leg over his bike. The rest of us dismount and I shake mine a little, limbering them up. I’ll need to if I need to chase down anyone I guess. I fall inline behind Tank and Nitro, following Marx and the rest of the officers as they walk through the front door, not giving a shit that guys like us don’t set foot in places like this.
“Don’t say a word, just point me to the backroom,” Marx growls at a rail thin blonde with too much Botox.
Before she can raise a red tipped finger in the direction a nerd comes running out from the back, headed for the door.
“I don’t think so,” I say, stepping in front of him.
He locks eyes with me through his thick as fuck glasses, something flickering in his eyes before he strikes me in the solar plexus, then the throat, kicking my leg out from under me, all before I can react.
I hit the ground, landing on my ass, coughing hard, trying to draw a breath. Fuck. Glasses really have it in for me today. I blink to stop the watering in my eyes, looking up to find Nitro with his gun pressed to the nerd’s head.
“You good?” Nitro asks, lips twitching.
I narrow my gaze at him, and accept Savage’s outstretched hand. I appreciate it, seeing as my legs are still locking up every so often.
Marx and Rhodie come storming out of the backroom with another geek. Marx corrals him to stand next to the one that kicked my ass, while Rhodie tips his head at Wire who makes his move to check out whatever set up these guys have. Hopefully the Computa’s will be able to work their magic.
“Lets ride out,” Marx growls, shoving the geeks toward the door.
“You didn’t see anything, sweetheart. Got me?” Rhodie says, staring down at the clerk who nods her head like a bobblehead as she huddles in the corner.
Stepping outside, I follow Nitro and the geek that put me on my ass, raising a brow when I notice Chewy’s murder van parked across the street, Niko in the driver’s seat.
“Thought he was guarding the women?” I tip my head in Niko’s direction.
“Chewy sent him. Had a feeling we’d need the extra transport,” Gus says, stepping up next to us with a briefcase of sorts in his hand.
