Both men looked over at me. The stranger reluctantly lowered his gun; Switchblade, on the other hand, lunged forward, stabbing the knife toward the stranger’s stomach. It was a dick move on his part, but the stranger seemed to be ready for it because he countered the move easily and knocked the knife out of Switchblade’s hand—something no man has ever been able to do before.
The room went eerily quiet. Even Switchblade looked stunned.
“You should really learn how to use that thing. You wield it like a bitch.”
“Fuck you, motherfucker. I’m gonna rip your god damn head off.” Switchblade’s fists balled up against his side and I could tell he was two seconds away from knocking the shit out of the stranger’s smug face.
“For what? Protecting a lady. For commenting on your shitty knife-wielding skills. First off, you need to learn some manners—a woman should be treated with dignity and respect, not like some whore you can smack around. Second, I could see every move you made before you made it. If we were playing chess, you’d already be in checkmate, bitch.”
I had to admit. Mr. Sexy Stranger had massive balls. He wasn’t afraid of Switchblade or anyone else in the club. The look on my brother’s face was priceless. Somehow, this stranger had earned Scythe’s respect. I could tell by my brother’s stunned silence and the slight smirk that quirked at the corners of his lips.
“That’s enough, both of you need to knock this shit off,” my brother barked, breaking the silence. He turned toward the stranger. “Look, I don’t know who you are or why you feel like you can just walk into my bar and have a drink, but this is Armada country and outsiders aren’t welcome here, but because you jumped in to protect my sister, I’m gonna give you a once in a lifetime pass. You got two seconds to pack up your shit and walk through that door without any of my brothers interfering, otherwise, you’ll be leaving my bar in a body bag.”
The stranger turned toward my brother and nodded. “I was just leaving.” He stepped away from the bar, walked over to the corner booth and grabbed the bottle of whiskey from off the table. He then slammed down a wad of cash and turned around to face me and my family. “Thanks for the drink, Love,” he said with a smile spreading across his face. “I’ll be back.”
I didn’t think it was possible, but an enamored blush crept up my cheeks. One I couldn’t hide from my brother or Switchblade. Somehow a complete stranger had left me breathless, a feat only one man had ever done before. Midas.
“Like hell you will,” Switchblade snarled.
“Calm the fuck down, Switchblade. Stop being such a pussy,” Jimmy said, forcing Switchblade to turn his way.
“Why the fuck are you defending him?”
“I’m not, but don’t get all pissy because he bested you at your own game. Calm the fuck down and go get yourself a drink.”
I quickly glanced over at my brother to see his expression, but by the time my eyes swiveled back over to where I last saw the stranger standing, he was already gone—vanishing into the night like a ghost.
“Where the fuck did that motherfucker go?” Switchblade cursed.
“I don’t know. One minute he was there, the next minute he was gone,” Cipher remarked.
Everyone looked stunned. We were all so focused on my brother and Switchblade’s reactions that nobody was paying attention to the stranger. He left without a single person’s eyes on him. If we hadn’t heard his bike start up and peel out of the parking lot, we wouldn’t have believed he was there at all.
I turned toward my brother, ready for whatever smartass remark was about to come out of his mouth, but the words he said left us all stunned.
“Boys, I think we may have found a new prospect.”
Chapter Four
Holden
I rode away from the clubhouse with a bittersweet euphoria running through my bones. I had successfully infiltrated and left the Armada without being murdered and no one recognizing me. Even the woman I pledged my life to didn’t recognize me anymore. I wasn’t sure if I should be happy or sad about it. Looking different did work in my favor, but it also kept me away from my goal of getting Faith back. It’s a goal that looks far more difficult now than I first thought. From the short amount of time I spent with the new members of the Armada, I could see things had drastically changed.
Dutch was nowhere to be found. Scythe was now patched in as Prez, and he chose that fuck up Switchblade as his VP. What kind of fucked up shit is that? Switchblade was a punk-ass kid when I met him nine years ago. That part apparently hadn’t changed. He’s still a punk-ass who has no idea how to treat a woman. There were only a few people I recognized in the club, and of the few I did recognize, I didn’t care for them much in the first place.
It would only be a matter of time before someone figured out who I was. Until then, I was planning on lying low, taking shelter behind enemy lines.
I grabbed a cheap motel on the west side of town, deep in the heart of Viper country, securing it under my new identity. Out of all the rival MCs in the area, they were the ones I was least afraid would make a big deal if they found me on their turf. It had nothing to do with the Vicious Vipers being an all-female MC, but everything to do with their low-key footprint in the motorcycle world. Vipers liked to stay on the good side of the law. The Armada used to be that way too, but now that Scythe and Switchblade had taken over, it seemed like they had turned the club into a haven for criminals.
I pulled into a gas station so I could fill my tank. It was almost seven, so I needed to grab something to eat before heading back to the hotel. A cute little attendant greeted me as I walked through the door.
“Pretty bike,” she exclaimed, eyeing my machine near one of the pumps.
“Thanks. It’s my baby.”
She grinned. “I haven’t seen you around these parts before. Are you affiliated?” She eyed my leather jacket, scoping it to see if I was flying any colors.
“Nope, I’m a free agent.”
“Too bad,” she frowned. “You have nobody to protect you, and protection is somethin’ you need around these parts.”
“I don’t need protection, sweetheart. I work alone.”
She frowned. “Can I get you anything?” She eyed the front door nervously.
“Sure, I’ll take one of those chicken burritos, a fountain drink, and two Snickers bars. I’m hungry as hell right now.”
The girl quickly grabbed my chicken burrito while I filled my drink and snagged the two candy bars.
Her gaze drifted to the door again. “Is that all?”
“Is something wrong?”
“You’re not safe here,” she murmured, tensing when the roar of multiple motorcycles could be heard outside. “Crap, I’m sorry. I tried to work fast, but now it’s too late.”
I saw the lights of multiple motorcycles pull up outside and then watched as ten, leather-bound women casually strolled inside the gas station. Each wore a bright green and black cut, with a cobra wearing lipstick on the back. I recognized them immediately.
The Vicious Vipers, a venomous organization of women that liked cold metal between their legs, and wielded knives like katanas. It was their usual weapon of choice but judging by the glint of black metal hidden behind a few of their cuts, they’d given up knives for a more deadly weapon.