Page 28 of Rags's Awakening
“Yeah,” Rags said, jaw tightening. “They know exactly who they’re messing with.”
“Then they can’t say shit when we beat their asses and destroy their fuckin’ clubhouse,” Puck said.
A woman’s laugh drifted from inside: high, easy, unbothered. The door opened, letting out a wave of smoke, and the smell of weed mingled with fried meat. A man stepped out—tall, long dark hair pulled back, his cut markedDevil’s Reign MC.
Smokey whispered, “That’s their prez, right? Max something?”
Rags nodded. “Max Connors. Used to run with the Stoners out in Pueblo before they folded. Mean streak a mile wide.”
The brothers watched him talk to one of his men, his voice carrying just enough to make out the words.
“…fall festival next weekend… easy place to make noise… lotta folks, lotta cameras…”
The lines on Tank’s forehead deepened. “The fucker’s talking aboutourfestival.”
“Yeah,” Rags muttered. “Sounds like he’s planning to show up.”
Max laughed then, sharp and loud. “Let ’em try and stop us. Ain’t their world anymore.”
That set Rags’s teeth on edge. He could feel the old anger pressing at the back of his skull.
Diesel looked at him. “I’m gonna enjoy teaching these arrogant sonsofbitches a lesson. We got what we need?”
“Yeah,” Rags said. “More than enough.”
They stayed another several minutes, watching until a pair of women walked out and sat on the porch steps, drinks in hand. One of them wore a Devil’s Reign tank top, bruises half-hidden by makeup.
Rags noticed it, eyes narrowing. “Club girls live there,” he said. “Some of them don’t look happy about it.”
Diesel nodded grimly. “Means they’re locked in. That place isn’t just a hangout, it’s home base.”
Rags took one last look, burned the scene into memory, then motioned for the others to move out. They hiked back up through the trees, silent until the SUV came into view again. The tension rode with them, heavy and real.
“Banger isn’t gonna like what we heard,” Puck said.
“No,” Rags agreed, climbing into the passenger seat. “Neither will Hawk. We definitely have a situation on our hands.”
***
The next morning,the brothers filed into the conference room. Boots thudded. Hawk leaned against the back wall, smoke coiling from his joint. Banger had a map of Colorado spread across the table.
Rags stood. “The fuckers are set up in Henderson, about fifteen miles out. More bikes than we thought. There’re club girls on site. And yeah, they’re wearingColorado.”
Hawk stubbed the roach into a nearby ashtray, the ember flaring once before it died. “They armed?” he asked.
“Some sidearms in the open, probably more inside. They looked oblivious.” Rags let the words fall.
“They were too busy ruining their barbecue. The shit they were makin’ stunk like hell,” Diesel said.
Snickers ricocheted around the room.
Banger leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Numbers?”
“Seven, maybe eight patched. Could be more inside,” Diesel said. “They’re setting up roots. They got tents by the back fence. One of the girls looked roughed up. Don’t think she’s there by choice.”
Hawk’s jaw tightened. “So, they’re making money, playing club, and using women to keep it going. You know what that means.”
“They think they’re untouchable,” Banger said.
