Page 12 of Tico

“No word,” Cobra tells me and my jaw clenches.

Mierda(Shit). Where is that fucker?

“Wire got into the police reports. There are four missing person cases in town, all of them female. One is sixteen and the others are in their twenties. No clue if it’s Oasis or someone else,” Taco says as he hands me his phone, showing me the pictures of the missing women.

“Chingada vida(Fuck my life),” I mutter as I hand him back his phone. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I look down at it and frown. Still no fucking word from Daemon. “Keep me posted. I’m going for a ride,” I mutter and they both dip their chins as I stride out of the clubhouse.

Outside, I throw my leg over my baby. I bought it as a celebration when I got my President patch. It’s aFat Boy Gray Ghost Harley Davidson.Starting her up, I feel some of the tension in my shoulders ease as she rumbles to life. Not surprisingly, Taco comes up besides me and gives me a chin lift again before starting up his bike as well. The corner of my lips twitch, I should have known he was gonna have my back, even if we don’t suspect trouble.

Pulling out of the gates, I tip my chin to the Prospect, Jesse, and then take off for the back roads around town, needing a little wind therapy.

Our club is on the southwestern edge of Sheboygan Falls. Years ago, a farmer was getting out of the business andmi abuelo(my grandpa) and the club bought up all their land which included multiple large, wooded sections. Because they wanted room to grow, they built the clubhouse big and left room where it could be expanded if need be. It’s a three-story building and each brother has their own room with their own attached bathroom. The spaces have jokingly been referred to as ‘apartments’ as the years went on even though they aren’t full ones. Officers have larger apartments and Taco and I have the largest with a second, smaller attached room that we’ve each been using as private offices for the time being.

We also have spare bunk rooms for guests from other clubhouses—some of them sleeping two to a room, and others four to a room. Bunnies sleep four to a room and we allocate two rooms specifically for their uses. We only have two single guest rooms and those are reserved for visiting Presidents and Vice Presidents.

There’s a large garage on the property which houses all of our cages for discreet jobs or for when the weather gets to be too much for our bikes. And since we’re a bunch of single men, it also houses a few toys—snowmobiles, four wheelers, and dirt bikes. There is also space where we can work on our own vehicles as needed.

I head north and think ofmi hermana(my sister), Maria, or Xochitl [pronounced SOH-chee] as she’s known to her club. She’s the President of the Royal Harlots MC chapter. Their clubhouse is located not too far away from here in Kiel, which is about a half hour northwest of Sheboygan Falls.

Both of us were given road names that went with our heritage, which is mixed. We are mostly Hispanic, but there is some white as well as a lot of Aztec heritage. Both mymi hermana(my sister) and I followed innuestra abuela(our grandma’s) footsteps and learned about our cultures, especially the Aztec side. In the Aztec language, which is called Nahuatl, my sister’s road name Xochitl means ‘flower’. My road name, Tico, is believed to have come from the Nahuatl word of ‘tequihua’ which means ‘valiant warrior’ or ‘war captain’. A title I’ve strived to live up to, especially since becoming President.

As I wind through the roads, my mind goes back to the missing women Taco showed me. Is Oasis already here? Or is someone else responsible? But who?

Half an hour later, I find myself back in town and near Daemon’s tattoo parlor. We park and I look up at the building, frowning when I notice there are lights on in the parlor as wellas the apartment above it. It’s a Sunday, so the parlor is closed and last I knew, it wasn’t rented out to anyone. Daemon was just using it as storage since he has a room in the clubhouse. No one should be up there.

Signaling Taco, I swing my leg over my bike and quietly walk around to the back of the building with Taco at my back. Being President means I have keys to all of our businesses and if someone’s snooping around trying to steal from us, they’ll feel the wrath of the Royal Bastards rain down on them.

With my hand on my gun inside my cut, I peek around the corner, but I don’t see Daemon’s bike.

We inch toward the back door and I hear muffled voices coming from inside, but I don’t recognize them. One of the voices is feminine and fuck, that sultry, husky voice goes straight through me. My dick twitches in my jeans, but I force my head to stay in the game and not in the gutter. Since I’m in the lead, I get to the door first, frowning when I see it’s slightly ajar. Taco gives me a signal that he’s ready. I swing the door open and he steps in first, gun raised with me hot on his heels.

Chapter 8

Tico

“Whatthefuck?”thewoman with the sultry voice hisses as Taco rounds a corner and then I hear him curse.

I round the corner just in time to see the woman do some fancy handwork and she easily disarms Taco before pointing the gun at me since I still have mine raised.

“Who the fuck are you?” she demands.

Taco gives me a confused look but raises his hands in a placating gesture.

“My bad,” Taco drawls out.

I fight not to smile, and apparently, so does the mystery woman because the corner of her mouth twitches.

The woman is a small thing, probably barely over five feet tall with fiery red hair that’s pulled back into a long braid. She’s wearing a fitted t-shirt and shorts that show off her toned, muscular figure. Not muscular like a body builder, but it’s apparent she works out a shit ton. How was a little woman like her able to disarm Taco so quickly?

The woman has a myriad of tattoos decorating her skin, and the combination of the viper on her arm along with the scarring on her face gives me pause. I’m sure I’ve seen them both somewhere before.

However, it’s her eyes that stop me in my tracks. Blazing emerald-green eyes stare me down. Eyes that seem like they can see into my blackened soul and see how much blood is on my hands. Which, for the first time, I feel uneasy about someone knowing exactlyhowmuch blood is on my hands.

A little squeak of fear has me tearing my gaze off the mystery woman to the teenager behind her. The mystery woman shifts slightly as she widens her stance, shielding the young girl as much as she can. The teenager peeks over the first woman’s shoulder and her eyes widen in fear before she quickly ducks behind the woman again.

“Who. Thefuck. Are. You?” the woman demands again and I cock an eyebrow at her.

“Question is, Vicious, who are you? You’re on club property which means you are the trespasser here, not us.”