Page 2 of Diablo
“What’s going on,” Demon yells, taking long strides across the room.
Demon stops next to me, resting his hands on his waist, looking at Crazy and the asshat.
“Prez, this stupid fucker disrespected Crazy, so Crazy has a minute to kick his ass,” I hum, raising my brow.
“Is that right? Fuck! Crazy, don’t kill him,” Demon hums, crossing his arms and spreading his legs.
“You’re fucking stupid coming in here with your fucking attitude! Listen up! Every son of bitch that wants to hang around at the clubhouse is only welcome on Friday nights! Period! Don’t fucking be stupid,” I hiss, looking around the room.
“That’s right, don’t fucking forget it! We don’t have fucking time to babysit you, so you’re not allowed to hang around the clubhouse! Only Friday night,” Demon yells.
“That stupid biker can’t kill me in a minute,” Bill huffs, rolling his eyes.
“You’re a fucking stupid fucker that doesn’t know when to shut his trap. You’re lucky that I’m not allowing Crazy to kill you because a minute is plenty,” I hiss, walking up to the asshat.
“Let’s get this over and kick out the hangarounds,” Demon grunts, rocking on his heels.
“Crazy, go at him,” I say, pressing the timer.
Crazy takes a couple of steps and grabs Bill by his long red hair. Crazy head-butts him and swings his big beefy fist, smashing Bill’s nose and knocking him out. Bill drops to the floor, and Crazy kicks him in his side a few times.
“Stop,” I yell.
The Brothers pull Crazy back, holding onto him.
“Crazy, you broke his nose and ribs,” Demon hums, looking at the asshat.
“Yeah, it felt good,” Crazy grunts.
“I bet! Now get the motherfucker out of here! All of you out,” I yell, snapping my fingers and looking at the rest of the hangarounds.
The other six hang-arounds run out of the clubhouse, and the Brothers carry Bill out. I know that they will throw him into his car and drive his ass far from here.
“Great call! I’m tired of seeing the fuckers here every night,” Demon hums, scrubbing his face.
“Damn straight! I need a cigarette,” I hum, walking to the bar.
Next day.
I walk into the Chapel for Church and head over to my black leather chair next to the Prez, fall onto the chair, lean back, and hold onto the armrests. I lower my eyelids, looking around the room at the Brothers.
“Listen up,” Demon yells, banging the gavel on the wood board. He holds onto the gavel, turning it in his hands.
The Brothers stop their chatter and look at the Prez. I rub my beard, waiting for the bomb to drop.
“Brothers, we have a mystery, more or less. I have a letter from a new MC in Vegas. The Prez wants to patch over, but he’s claiming that his father was one of the original Satan Warriors. He doesn’t know who, so we need to get him and his MC to visit us,” Demon hums, leaning his arms on the table and raising his brow to look at the brothers.
“That’s bullshit because Grizzly didn’t fuck around on Mama Bear,” Killer growls, slamming his fist on the table.
Killer is my blood brother, a year younger than me. Grizzly is our father, in the pen for life. Long story short, he killed the Wicked Warriors VP in retaliation for the Wicked Warriors Prez Crash killing our Prez. That’s why Demon and I stepped into our positions so soon.
Mama Bear is my mom. She has cooked for the MC since forever, when she became Dad’s Old Lady. She also takes care of feeding the Brothers.
“Calm the fuck down! We will have to take some DNA tests,” I huff, crossing my arms.
“Fuck! We might have a brother,” Lethal hums, rubbing his beard.
“Yeah, and a sister since he’s a twin. It appears that his Mom spent time with the Satan Warrior Brother and took off without telling him about the pregnancy. She didn’t give him a lot of details. His Mom couldn’t raise both kids, so she gave his sister up for adoption. Now he wants help to look for her and to patch over into the Satan Warriors MC since he’s a Satan Warrior brat,” Demon scoffs, sitting back in his chair and running his fingers through his short hair.
