Page 5 of Outlaw Xmas
“The 39thStreet Gang,” Rock said as he stood up. “According to Diablo, they work out of Pueblo, but they’ve been making some noise with another punk gang in Silverado. Fallen Slayers have been dealing with them for the past several months. The Night Rebels helped the brothers get guns and shit from Liam a while back.”
“Aren’t Satan’s Pistons involved with the 39thStreet Gang?” Axe asked.
Rock nodded. “And they’ve been tied to the wannabe gangsters in Silverado. I told Diablo we should join forces and stamp out these damn punk gangs.”
“We should kick their asses just for having a stupid-as-shit name,” Throttle said.
Several brothers guffawed, and Rags slapped Throttle on the back. “Good one, dude. And you’re so right. I mean, how much time did it take for them to come up with 39thStreet Gang? Total pussies. Fuckin’ lame.”
“What the hell’s the name of the other punk gang in Silverado?” Jerry asked.
“I don’t know. Diablo just ranted about these 39thpussies,” Rock answered.
“West Avenue Bandits,” Bear said, and all eyes turned to him. He leaned back in his chair. “Tattoo Mike told me. He said the Fallen Slayers are having a helluva time with them. Steel’s ready to have the Night Rebels jump in and give them a hand.”
“Did Tattoo Mike say anything ’bout the Deadly Demons being involved with these punk gangs?” Banger asked.
“He said they don’t know who the hell’s helping them out. Satan’s Pistons are bent on revenge after what the Night Rebels did to their clubhouse in Arizona, but he said the brothers don’t think they have the money or manpower to fund two punk gangs.”
“This shit has Deadly Demons written all over it,” Jax said, pounding his fist on the table. The brothers joined in, pounding their fists and yelling out death epithets.
Hawk hung back and watched as anger filled the room. Neither he nor Banger stopped it, and from the hard look on Banger’s face, Hawk was pretty sure he was feeling the same rage that was coursing through each of the brothers, including himself. The Deadly Demons had been trying to spread the drug, arms, and trafficking trade into Colorado—Insurgents territory ever since the club was formed thirty years before. During that time, the club wars had been fierce and rivaled any war zone in Afghanistan. After years of killing and bloodshed, a truce had been formed between the two clubs. It had held strong for the past eight years, but the outlaw grapevine had been reporting that Reaper was pissed as fuck that the Insurgents were making a shitload of money on legal weed while they struggled with constant harassment from the badges.
Hawk balled his fists.I wouldn’t put it past these fuckers to snake their way into our territory by using non-biker gangs as their damn smokescreen.He glanced at the clock on the back wall. He’d promised Cara that he’d pick up Braxton from preschool in an hour. Turning to Banger, he said, “This shit could go on for hours. Pound the gavel and let’s move on.”
Banger picked up another gavel and slammed it down on the block of wood. Voices lowered to a hush. “We’re all fuckin’ pissed, and Hawk and I are gonna keep monitoring this.”
“I’ll keep digging to see what I can come up with,” Blade said.
“If anyone can find shit through the internet, it’s you,” Chas said. Blade was a whiz when it came to computers, hacking, and anything else internet and computer related. He’d been a full member for the past few years and was proving to be a huge asset to the club.
“And keep the conversation going with the Night Rebels. They’re closer to what’s going on since all this shit is in their neck of the woods. I guess that wraps it up. What do you say?” Hawk glanced at Banger.
“That’ll do it. Church is over.” Banger brought the gavel down again, and the scraping of chairs against the concrete floor bounced off the walls as the brothers made their way out of the room and headed to the great room.
When Hawk walked into the great room, hard rock beats blasted from the overhead speakers while voices strained to compete with the music. Hawk went over to the jukebox and lowered the volume.
“That’s a lot better, honey,” a sultry voice said behind him. The scent of sweet roses curled around him as soft fingers ran up his forearm.
He straightened up and turned around. A young woman with long light-brown hair and big blue eyes smiled at him. She looked like she was barely twenty-one.
“Do I know you?” he asked as he took a step away from her.
“I’m Heather. I’ve seen you around the club, but you always seem too busy to notice me. I’m one of the new girls.” She ran her eyes over his physique.
“How new?”
“A month. I was a hoodrat before, but now I’m a club girl.” She stepped closer to him. “I was hoping you were going to be here when I was initiated.”
When a woman wanted to become a club girl, she had to go through an initiation where all the members had sex with her. If she passed, she donned the Insurgents patch as property of the club. It earned her free room and board and the protection of the club.
Hawk placed his hands on her shoulders and pushed her back gently. “You’re wasting your time with me. I’ve got an old lady.”
“I heard that, but what happens in the clubhouse stays in the clubhouse. Plus, variety is a lot more fun.” She reached out and traced her finger down his throat.
Grabbing her hand, he pushed it away. “When a brother tells you to back off, you fuckin’ listen. I’m not interested. Find another brother who wants your pussy.”
“You’re a hard one.” She pushed out her lower lip.
