Page 58 of Retribution
“What the fuck?” the biker choked out as his hands tried to push away Cobra’s vise-like hold.
“Break it the fuck up!” Sparky said. He grabbed Cobra by the shoulders and yanked on them.
Reason broke through the fog of rage, and he dropped his arm and stepped back from Scarface.
The biker glared at Cobra as he rubbed his neck.
“We don’t have time for this shit—save it for later. We’ve got a goddamn job to do,” the vice president said, his gaze darting from Cobra to Scarface then back to Cobra.
Cobra kicked at the floor then shoved his hands in his pockets.
“I guess going nomad didn’t hurt you none.” Pee Wee’s voice sliced through the tension between the two men.
The corners of Scarface’s mouth twitched up before a loud guffaw broke through his lips. Cobra busted out laughing, and soon the cacophony of laughs, whistles, and stomping feet filled the main room.
Cobra extended his hand and Scarface clasped it tightly then pulled him into a bear hug.
“Fuck, dude, your reflexes are spot on,” he said as he motioned the prospect for two drinks.
“You better fuckin’ believe it,” Cobra replied. He took the shot Scarface offered him and let it wash down his throat.I fuckin’ miss this.
A loud whistle silenced the room and all eyes averted to Grinder, who stood on top of one of the tables.
“You got two fuckin’ seconds to finish drinking up. We got some asses to kick and some shit to blow up.”
The room filled with the full-throated roar of forty members stomping their feet, fists in air, chanting “Steel Devils forever, forever Steel Devils” over and over. Cobra’s chest swelled with pride as he joined in, feeling a sense of camaraderie with his brothers.
As Cobra walked to his Harley, he pulled Razor to the side. “I gotta ask a favor of you,” he said in a low voice.
“What is it?”
Cobra wiped the corners of his mouth with his fingers. “I need some intel done on a sonofabitch.”
Razor, Iron, and Brute were the computer brains in the club, and they could find tons of shit on anyone. It blew Cobra away as to how they did it, and Razor was the best of the trio on his clandestine research.
“Sure. Who’s pissed you off?” Razor chuckled.
“Fucker’s name is Taylor Ruybal. I need to know the asshole’s address and where he works.”
“Do you have info besides his name? How old is he?”
“He’s twenty-two, born in Pocatello, Idaho, and has been living in Idaho Falls as of a few weeks ago.”
“Easy as shit, bro. What did the pussy do?”
Cobra stopped in his tracks as anger smoldered inside him. “He messed with my woman.”
Razor’s eyes widened. “Fucker. And when did you get a woman? Is it that stripper at the Satin Dolls?” He snapped his fingers. “What’s her name?”
“Jenny, and no, it’s not her. We’re friendswithoutbenefits now.”
“Then who’s this chick you’re ready to kill for?”
Cobra shrugged. “Just someone I met.”
Razor clapped his hand on Cobra’s back. “I’ve never heard you call any chickyourwoman. Happy for you.”
“Yeah. So I’ll text you the shit I just told you about this fucker.” He started walking again.
