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“Me, too, brother. Me, too.”
“Do a little damage for me, yeah?”
“Nah, man. I’ll do a lot of fucking damage to make sure they know how bad they fucked up.”
He grins. “Excellent. Be safe.”
“Always.” I get ready to leave and turn back to Gray. “You and Sage?”
“Just a friend.”
“Right. You really are dumber than you look.”
I laugh when he flips me off and go to the armory to strap up before we head to the outskirts of Two Pines. That’s where the Skull Crushers have their headquarters.
“Didn’t need to be stealthy, did we?” Ford smiles as we gather just outside the two-story brick structure with the Skull Crushers flag hanging in a top-floor window. “Fuckers are having a party.”
We hear the loud music the second we kill the bike engines. It’s so loud that we don’t need to whisper to set our plan of attack. Hell, we probably couldn’t hear each other if we try to whisper.
“Me and Wheeler are gonna set up over there.” Dad points to the building right across the street. “It’s empty and offers a good view inside the clubhouse.”
“Gonna go find a good spot,” Wheeler says, taking off with his rifle draped across his back. You’d never pick up on the fact he’s got a prosthetic leg the way he carries himself. The dude’s a straight-up beast.
I’m all for kicking the door in and shooting up the place, but the smart play is to see what we’re up against first. “We should take a look inside and see what’s going on. How many people are inside.”
“They are completely fucking out of it,” Saint says as he rejoins us out on the street. He points his thumb toward the clubhouse. “Lots of booze and drugs, tits out and girls everywhere. It’s easy pickings in there.”
“Good.” Dad nods, his gaze fixes on the front window of the clubhouse, where shadows move back and forth. “What do you think, Stone?”
I look back at the abandoned building and then at the clubhouse. The building has a few more stories, giving Wheeler the perfect view inside. “We need to lay some scatter fire that’ll send everyone running, minimize damage to the women and other civilians.”
My instinct says to kill everything that moves. Lay them all out for the simple act of being loyal to the Skull Crushers. But that’s not how we roll.
“When they come running out the front and back, we pick off the Skull Crushers.”
“Good plan,” Dad says. “Team up and cover all exits. Leave no fucking man behind. Got it?”
We all nod and disperse around the clubhouse, making sure we have every window and door covered.
“You good?” Saint asks as we make our way around to the back.
I look at him for a minute, and when it’s clear he’s genuinely asking, I nod. “Fuck yeah, I’m good.”
“No one would blame you for being a little nervous.”
He’s not wrong. My arms and legs are warm, and a tingle shoots up my spine as butterflies take flight in my belly. But it’s not nerves. It’s anxiety. It’s anticipation. “A few nerves is good going into shit like this. If you ain’t a little anxious,” he says, “then you’re not doing it right.”
I turn to Saint, and he grins.
“What?” I ask, confused for a second.
“You grew up, that’s all.”
“Five years will do that to ya.” And in that moment, I realize that I no longer hold any anger or resentment about being sent away. It was the exact right move for me and for the MC. I grew up. It’s why I’m here today to take this stand with my brothers at my side.
The first shot tears through the late-night air, and nothing happens. Four more shots land. A window breaks and a car alarm sounds. When the sixth shot lands, all fucking hell breaks loose.
The doors fly open and the music gets louder. Half-naked women rush out and run in all directions.
