Page 459 of Devil’s Disciples

I watched his likeness in the window until he grew flaccid and pulled himself free.

In my heightened state of bliss, I knew little about what my future held. One thing, however, was certain.

If Angel didn’t kill me, I was going to have a hell of a time quitting Reno.

168

Reno

The Devil’s Disciples clubhouse was in downtown San Diego, located in a three-story building that overlooked a bar district. The upper floor was the club president’s business office, the second floor was used as his residence, and the first floor was our clubhouse.

The top-floor office was as a front for the business that was used to launder the money we took in from robberies. The club president, Baker, was also the president of the LLC, which managed local carwashes. The men in the MC worked at the carwashes, and were paid through the LLC, making the income from the criminal acts we committed legal.

The club originally consisted of five men who were friends since childhood, and me. Ghost, our getaway driver; Goose, our weapons expert; Tito, our computer hacker; Cash, our hot-headed muscle; and me. After Ghost was killed by a drunken driver, we allowed a woman into the club. Goose’s Ol’ Lady, Ally, was a former race car driver, a safe cracker, and damned good at planning a robbery.

Now, with five men and a woman, the Devil’s Disciples were capable of planning and implementing any robbery imaginable.

It had been eighteen hours since the incident. Baker was sitting on a barstool facing the rest of the group, who were all seated together at the sectional.

Glassy-eyed and sleep deprived, he glanced at each of us. “I’m open for suggestions, people.”

“I say we kill the bitch,” Cash spouted.

I glanced to my right side and gave Cash a look. “Why would I expect anything less from you?”

“What else would we do?”

“We’re sure as fuck not going to kill her,” I said. “She didn’t do anything.”

He looked at me like I’d missed the point. “We kill her before she does anything.”

Cash was six-foot-six, weighed two-fifty, and was muscle from head to toe. His hot-headed temper often put him in sticky situations. His answer to most problems was to either beat his way out of them or shoot his way out of them.

Reasoning wasn’t his strong point.

“Hell, with that logic, we’d be walking around town shootin’ every motherfucker we bumped into.” I looked at Baker. “That’s not an option, is it? Killing her?”

“It’s an option,” Baker responded. “But not one I’m interested in. Not right now, at least.”

Ally leaned forward and peered in my direction. “The entire reason you shot the guys in the first place was because they were a threat to her, right?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“They were sent by this cartel guy? El whatever?”

“Alacrán,” I said. “El Alacrán.”

“And she used to see that guy? They were a couple, or whatever?”

“Sounds like it. Yeah.”

“He’s not going to give up, is he?” she asked. “No matter what happens with the drugs, he’s not going to stop pursuing her.”

“Probably not. Why?”

“I’m just wondering how to approach this,” she replied. “We’ve got two issues. One: the drugs. He’s going to come after them and whoever took them. And, two: he’s going to continue to pursue her. So, if you truly want to keep her safe, something will need to be done with him.”

I stood and faced her.