Regret filled me, but I didn’t have time for that shit. Instead, I pulled out the handgun I had strapped to my calf and the knife that was tucked in my back pocket.
I felt a little like John Wayne in a western, but I moved to stand in the middle of the road, intent on staring the fuckers down.
Three bikers came to a halt within scant inches from me, and Jump roared around my back, stopping at my side, silently telling me that he was with me, not them.
And when I said them, I meant the fuckers who were definitely no longer Sinners but still wore our motherfucking cuts.
"Trespassing is a criminal offense," I declared, voice bland, my stance relaxed, handgun held loosely in my hand. I wasn’t about to start waving it around, but neither was I going to let them think I was an easy target.
In my peripheral vision, I saw Digger make an appearance, a gun in each hand as he walked quietly toward us, each footstep perfectly placed to cause the minimum of noise.
"We ain’t the trespassers here. This is our fucking land. You’re the bastard who threw us off it—"
"You’re the ones who ran away like pussies," I retorted. "I didn’t do shit, just came in here to clean up your last Prez’s mess." I smirked at them. "If you can’t handle the truth, then you’d better just fuck off."
"Can’t believe you’re siding with this prick, Jump."
"He’s good for the club," Jump retorted, but he stepped up to the plate and came to stand at my side. "You fuckers never thought about the MC. Just about stuffing shit up your nose. We got jobs now, there are businesses in town brothers work for. Butch never gave a fuck about our bills—"
"We’re goddamn bikers," one of them roared.
"That mean you don’t pay utilities?" I mused. "Show your fucking faces anyway. Pussies wear visors."
Growls were my answer, but they did as I asked, removed their helmets, and I quickly scanned their faces, recognizing a couple from photos on the wall in the bar.
"You’re Doc, Sticky, and Hook," I said calmly.
"How the fuck do you know that?"
"Got eyes, don’t I? And a brain in my head unlike you dipshits." I sneered at them. "What’s your problem? Why the fuck are you here?"
"We’re about to take back what’s ours. We don’t recognize you as Prez and—"
"Good thing seeing as you ain’t Sinners anymore."
Punctuating my declaration, Digger cocked his guns which had the men jolting, freezing in place.
"Not very smart, are you? What the hell did you think was going to happen? You’d come here, beat the shit out of me and what, leave me to die?" I smirked at them as I took a step forward, inching into their space until, of course, shit hit the fan.
I heard the unmistakable cocking of my twelve-gauge, then a, "Get the hell away from our property."
I’d expected it to be warbled.
I’d expected her to be scared, to find her cowering in the closet safe room.
I didn’t anticipate that months with Giulia and her fucking Posse would bring out the beast in my woman.
I didn’t turn away, didn’t move to look at her, but those fuckers did.
Just as they started to snicker, amused at my woman showing up, not realizing that she was in full-on momma bear mode, she let loose a shell.
I half-expected to feel the tiny pellets digging into my ass if her aim wasn’t true, but I realized she fired into the ground because I didn’t hear the ball bearings clatter as they sprayed the concrete.
"Think you’re outnumbered, boys," Jump rattled off, but I heard his nerves and knew he didn’t want to have a face off.
"The next time you bring shit to my home is a day that your momma will see you in the morgue when she’s IDing your corpses.
"Now, this is a public place, the cops will be on their way shortly, and that protects us both. It means I can’t gut you like fish, and it means you can’t do dick to me.
"It’s my land, my home. You came here. I think that’s a mixture of stand-your-ground and castle doctrine. And seeing as the local law don’t particularly like your brand of the Sinners but are in my pocket, I think I know who’d be getting hauled into jail tonight—"
Their engines roared as they took off, but before he slammed on the ignition, Hook ground out, "You ain’t heard the last of us."
"Been waiting for you fuckers to darken my door," I retorted. "You’re as dumb as I was warned."
Hatred gleamed in the bastard’s eyes, even in the darkness there was no mistaking that glitter, as he hacked up some saliva, spat it at my feet, then rode off, straight pipes tearing through the silence of the night.
As I watched them go, I turned to Digger and Jump and said, "Thanks for having my back, brothers."
Jump gulped. "Didn’t think they’d show their faces here."
"Them in particular or just the Sinners who ran off?"
"Bit of both?" Edgily, he tugged on his cuffs. "Sticky’s on the run from a murder charge in Canada. That’s how he got the name—sticky fingers. Someone caught him thieving some necklace or something, and he killed ‘em to keep ‘em quiet. He ain’t the kind of fucker who stays around unless it’s worth his while."
I blinked at that news. "Canada? He’s not a Sinner?"
"Used to be a…" Jump frowned. "Wolf? Rabid Wolf?"
My mouth tightened. "He did, huh?" In the distance, over the lingering notes of the bikes, I heard sirens. "I won’t forget tonight, brothers."
"I’m your Enforcer, ain’t I?" Digger retorted, but he was smirking as he put the safety back on his guns.
"You look like you enjoyed that a little too much," I drawled.
"Hey, I’ve just been dancing around the living room to Barbie Girl. I needed a dose of testosterone."
"There a reason for that?"
"Maddox falls asleep to it."
"You shitting me?" I hooted, though my lips curved as memories assailed me—I’d been there, done that. Motown had been Cyan’s preference of choice. “Stop, Look, Listen” had always done the trick.
"I wish. You can blame TikTok for that. I tried to get him hooked on Whitesnake but no dice." His grimace said it all, but he waved a hand. "Here if you need me, Prez." He glanced at Keira. "Although, looks like you’ve got an Old Lady who’ll ride into war with you now." His brow arched. "Color me impressed."
I wasn’t.
I just waved a hand at him, telling him to get lost, but to Jump, asked, "Can you check in with Paul on the gates? Make sure he’s okay? If he’s—" I grimaced. "Hopefully he ain’t dead. Call me if he is. If he’s got a head injury, take him to the ER and pay his bill."
"Will do, Prez," Jump agreed before he ‘jumpily’ walked over to his bike. I guessed I figured out why he got his name—fucker made a newborn puppy look still.
With that in hand, I twisted around and stormed over to my woman’s side.
Now that was done, I’d thought she’d be shaky, nervous, but she wasn’t.