I nod and head toward the door, declaring this conversation over.
Rain falls, slapping me in the face as we ride toward the Howlerz. Lip rides past me, coming in behind Shadow and Bull. He better chill out, or he is going to get more than a graze from a bullet. He is out for blood, angry he ran like a bitch from Augustus, but I don’t blame him. He was out numbered and didn’t stand a chance. He was smart running.
We pull up to a little storefront that has the Howlerz logo printed on the glass in brown and white. That is how you know they haven’t been around long. No club with a record would throw their club colors on the front of a building. Not only does it attract law enforcement, but enemies as well.
I back my bike into a parking spot and cut the motor. Thunder erupts in the sky as the rain comes down harder. Bull gets off his bike, puts his helmet on the handlebars, and walks to the front door, opening it and walking in uninvited.
I follow in and shake my head back and forth, throwing off the rain droplets clinging to my hair.
“Well, well, well,” Bull chants, eyeing the shitty-looking club. I’ve seen crack houses in better shape than this place.
There’s a torn-up leather couch sitting in the center of the club, a stripper pole in the corner with a cougar dancing around it, and what I think is supposed to be a bar on the opposite side of the room. It’s small and made of brown tile, with hand built shelves holding cheap whiskey.
“What are you doing here?” one of the men asks, pulling himself off the ripped-up couch. He strides forward, his patch reading Leo as he glares at Bull.
“Where’s Bain?” Bull asks, resting his hand on his gun in his holster. Warning the fucker that if he tries anything, he will not hesitate to shoot him. Bain is the president of this poor establishment, and the one who has to explain his actions of crossing us.
“I don’t know,” Leo snaps, tilting his chin upward defensively.
“Maybe the Howlerz should trade your worthless ass in for a hot maid. This place is a dump,” I insult, kicking a loose floorboard with my boot.
“You insulting our colors, man?” Leo grits, pointing his dirty finger in my direction. The worst thing a brother could do is insult another club's patch, or colors. Did I just do that? Kind of.
“All right now, just find us Bain so we can be on our way,” Bull intervenes, pushing Leo in the chest, causing him to back up.
“What can I do for you, Bull?” I look around Leo and see Bain. He is about a foot shorter than me, with dark hair and one streak of gray sweeping right through the front. But he is buff as shit, and from what I hear, he practices that karate shit.
“I heard you’re doing business with someone else under the table. Is that true?” Bull asks, tilting his head to the side. A cute little blonde girl walks up behind Bain, tying the front of her blouse into a knot. She looks up, brushing her hair from her face and winks seductively at me. I smile and wink back.
“It wasn’t anything personal, Bull. He was just cheaper,” Bain explains, snapping his fingers at some young guy sitting behind the shitty bar. The guy bends down and brings out a dusty beer bottle, opening it with his teeth, and handing it to Bain.
“I thought we had an understanding. You buy from us, cut us in on profit, and you can stay in my territory,” Bull reminds him as he plucks a cigarette from his pack.
“I don’t remember signing anything,” Bain smarts arrogantly. Laughing as if the joke is on us, causing the rest of his men to laugh along with him. I start to laugh along, Bull and Shadow as well. I stop laughing and reach down, grabbing my pistol from its holster, aiming it right at Bain, Shadow and Bull doing the same.
The Howlerz stop laughing immediately, their faces pale.
“What’s wrong? Something not funny?” Bull asks, tilting his head to the side condescendingly, making me laugh.
The blonde woman licks her lips, eyeing me as I aim a weapon at the man she just came out of the back room with.
“Look, man, let’s just sit down and get some shit in writing. That’s all,” Bain remarks, giving a half laugh. A fire rings out, making the blonde jump and scream. The cougar dry humping the pole runs off into one of the doors behind her wailing.
Leo looks down at his leg, blood seeping through his jeans.
“I like to sign in blood,” Shadow clips, aiming his weapon back at Bain.
“You fucking shot me!” Leo shrieks, eyeing his leg like it might fall off.
I aim my gun at another of the men sitting at the bar.
“Should we negotiate terms? Sign some more? ‘Cause I have plenty of bullets,” I laugh.
“No, that’s enough. We won’t go anywhere else. You made your point,” Bain yells, placing his arms up in the air. He is clearly outnumbered; he’s smart to give in so easily.
“Good,” Bull remarks, placing his gun in his holster.
“If only signing the paperwork to a new bike were this easy,” I laugh, placing my gun in my holster.