Home > Battle Hearts (Storm MC Reloaded #3)(22)

Battle Hearts (Storm MC Reloaded #3)(22)
Author: Nina Levine

Her hands come to my shirt. “Is this something I need one of those heads-up about?”

I don’t want to say yes, but I made a promise to her about this, so I nod. “Maybe.”

She swallows hard, worry flashing in her eyes, but she keeps her shit together. “Okay.” Her hands clutch my shirt harder. “I love you, too.”

My mouth crashes down onto hers, and I pour all the love and frustration I’m feeling into this kiss. She does the same, and when we’re finished, I have to force myself to let her go and get out of here.

“I’ll call you when I’m on my way home.”

The look of fear in her eyes is the last thing I see as I turn to leave, and I have trouble removing it from my mind as I head towards Albert’s club. By the time I arrive, though, I’ve managed to push it far enough back to allow my focus to be completely on what I need to do here.

“Winter,” one of Albert’s security team says as I approach the front door. “Albert’s not expecting you tonight.”

“No, but he’ll see me regardless.”

He extends his arm and places his hand to my chest. “I’ll need you to stop while I call him to see if he’s free.”

I keep moving closer to him, pushing his hand out of the way. Tonight is not the fucking time to tell me no. “You’ll call him and tell him to make himself free.”

His lips flatten. “You wanna rephrase that?”

“No, I don’t wanna fucking rephrase that. Make the fucking call.”

He glares at me for another moment before calling Albert. After a quick conversation, he says to me, “He’ll see you, but he’s got someone else coming soon, so—”

“Just let me in,” I snap.

“When the fuck did you become such a prick?”

“When someone took it upon themselves to fucking shoot my men. Now open the fucking door!”

Albert’s sex club is four-levels high with the top one his personal playground. When I reach his level, I step off the lift into an open space filled with a loud driving beat, and people fucking all over the place. It’s so dark in some areas of the room that I don’t see them until I’m walking into them.

“Fucking hell,” I mutter, shoving naked bodies out of my way and doing my best to ignore the music that’s drowning out my thoughts.

“Winter,” Albert’s drawl floats through the air as I draw closer to him. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“We need to find a quiet spot where just the two of us can talk,” I say, making it clear in my tone that this request isn’t open for discussion.

His brows lift, but he doesn’t argue with me. He leads me into a private room that’s lit just enough for us to see each other, and that meets my need for quiet. As the door clicks closed behind us, he says, “What’s so urgent you needed to force your way up here?”

“Two of my men were shot tonight. Hunt suggested I pay a visit to you to see what you know about it.”

“Why would you think I know anything?”

I’d fucking love to wipe the smug expression off this asshole’s face. Hell, I’d love to wipe this asshole off the planet. But I can’t, because he has a lot of low friends in high places that would retaliate with their own murderous desires. Storm didn’t receive a friendly welcome when we set up in this city, especially not after King went on a rampage and let everyone know we’d moved in. King’s far-reaching power, though, ensured we had everyone’s attention, and my power was a given thanks to that. Still, this first year in Melbourne hasn’t been easy. We may have a level of control, but we sure as fuck don’t have the keys to the kingdom. Our enemies are everywhere, and they’re waiting for the right moment to get in bed with someone else and take us down. This is why I’m here tonight—to not only see what Albert knows, but to remind him of the hierarchy here.

“We both know you’re aware of everything that goes on in this city. Now’s the time to spill. Unless of course”—I pull out my ace straight away because I don’t have the patience tonight to lead him slowly to give me what I want—“you’d rather we take a visit to your wife and tell her about your other families.”

The smug expression is wiped off his face, and it didn’t require my fists to do it. “How the fuck do you know about that?”

“You’d be surprised what we know.” He would be. With Axe and Zane’s help, Hunt continues to unearth the kind of information that could bring some of the powerful men in this city to their knees. Axe and Zane might not be club members, but they protect us just the same by supplying this information.

Albert has three women he calls wife, and nine kids between them. None know of the other, and if they were to make the discovery, it would cause hell for him. Mostly because his legal wife has an influential family who would do anything for her, the least of which would be to blacken his name and find ways to fuck with his wealth.

“I’ve never fucking liked you or your club,” he says as he comes at me with his fists.

Being prepared for it, I block his punch and deliver my own to his gut. He stumbles backwards, his cheeks heating and turning red with anger. Albert’s a big guy and no match for my speed or skill. “You really wanna go there, Albert?” I ask as he tries to catch his breath after I’ve winded him. “I’m in the mood if you want to.” Fuck am I in the mood.

“Yeah,” he snarls, coming back my way, “let’s go there. I’m in the mood, too.”

This time, I let him get a punch in. I want the hit. It’ll take the mood I’m already in and fuel it more. And it does. So do the next two punches I allow. They bring my anger to life, and once I get my bearings after the third punch, I’m fully in.

I come back at him with a punch that knocks him to the floor and causes blood to flow like a fucking fountain. When he stays down, I bend over him and roar, “Get the fuck up! We’re not finished here yet.”

Spitting blood, he pushes himself up and attempts another punch. I block it and punch him hard enough that he staggers for a bit. He recovers faster this time, and we trade punches for a good five minutes after that.

I’m just getting warmed up when he runs out of steam. I deliver my hardest punch yet and he collapses, curling into a ball from the pain.

Crouching next to him, I demand, “You ready to tell me what I want to know or do we need to keep going here?”

His filthy glare hits me before his words do. “Go to hell. I’m not telling you anything.”

Grabbing his shirt, I pull him to his feet. “Yeah, you fucking are.” If it’s the last fucking thing I do tonight, I’ll get the information out of this motherfucker.

I punch him repeatedly until he lands on the floor again, at which point, I stand over him and grasp his bloody and bruised face. “You done yet?”

He cracks an eye open. “Get fucked.”

My phone rings, drawing my attention. When I see Ransom’s name flash on the screen, I answer it. “Yeah?”

“Thorn’s gonna be okay, but Doc has concerns for Memphis.”

My body tenses. “What kind of concerns?”

“The kind where we may be planning a funeral.”

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