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“House is registered to an elderly woman. So something isn’t right. She doesn’t even live there. Grandson running drugs out of the house?”
“And you think Nick could be involved in this…”
“Things have a way to just showing themselves, Nova. I guess the reason I’m telling you this…”
Nova let it sink it. And it sank in hard. She handed Linc her coffee cup. Neither one wanted to speak the words.
If they find Nick there, they’re going to kill him, Nova thought to herself.
Then she added to herself, If they find out Nick is involved in this… they’re going to kill him…
Nova looked at Linc. She swallowed hard. Linc slid his hand to the back of her neck and pulled her toward him. Their foreheads touched.
No words needed to be spoken. It was understood by both. The outlaw life had a way of twisting and turning in just seconds. Nova learned that fast.
She preferred Linc’s cock in her mouth and between her legs. That was the reward. Before the reward came the risk.
Nova was terrified. For her brother’s life. And for Linc’s life. Nova was not going to just sit in a bedroom and do nothing. She assumed Linc knew that already. Linc did. The woman he loved was stubborn. She would spend the rest of her life giving Linc a headache and a hard cock.
What more could a man ask from a woman?
Chapter Twenty-Three
Begging From the Bad Guy
Linc stood at his motorcycle, strapped with two knives and three guns. Things were quickly set in motion. Cyrus, Linc, and Priest had all rode their motorcycles. Slade and Darrow followed in a beat-up junkyard truck with the you pick logo on the side. They were out back of the house. A normal looking house in a normal looking part of town.
There was space between all the houses. Lots of overgrowth too. Most of the people that lived around here were elderly. In all honesty it was the perfect spot to have a drug house. Nobody would suspect a thing. Keep the traffic very minimal. Don’t make noise. Linc hated the idea of something like that being right there in town.
Slade circled the block one last time and drove down the narrow, dirt alley to meet up with the others. He gave a nod to Linc. Linc looked at Cyrus.
The President’s face looked like stone and ice. Narrow eyes. A monster ready to attack. He gave the signal and they began to move toward the back door of the house. There were a few ways of entry to the house, the last one being actually breaking in. Kicking down a door or busting up a window.
Lucky for them when Linc reached for the back door knob, it turned with ease. Unlocked. Linc opened the door and began to step inside, gun drawn. Priest pulled Linc out of the way. A sign of respect. Priest knew his position in the club. If a bullet were to fly near Cyrus or Linc, it was Priest’s job to take that bullet for his Prez and VP.
They filed into a small kitchen that looked and reeked of an elderly woman. Old, cheap decorations on the walls. The fridge with plastic fruit shaped magnets. Linc took note that the calendar on the fridge was from four years ago, still on February. He opened the fridge and there were a few cans of beer and some bologna and bread.
Cyrus smelled the air. To him everything smelled clean. To Priest, everything seemed way off. Wrong. For a second he wondered if this was another setup. And that there was a bomb in the house and they were all going to explode.
He grabbed for Cyrus’s shoulder.
“I have a feeling,” Priest growled. “You and Linc leave. Let me clear the house. In case.”
“Fuck no,” Linc said.
He walked out of the kitchen, pissing Priest off. The dining room was unused. The living room looked the same. Priest let out whispering whistle and nodded to a door near the stairs.
Basement.
All three nodded. Priest opened the door and started his descent. The lights were on in the basement.
About halfway down the steps, the ceiling to the basement began. Priest crouched and looked. What he saw made him stick his right hand out, stopping Cyrus and Linc.
What the fuck is it? Linc thought.
Priest crept down two more steps.
“Hey, fuckhead, you awake or dead?” Priest called out.
