Page 26 of Dagger's Target
I gritmy teeth and take in the latest destruction of Katrina’s studio. It’s good we don’t have any of the new equipment or instruments in yet. Katrina ordered it all, but it was going to be a few days or weeks to come in. I didn’t know how long.
The destruction was holes in the wall, parts of the walls ripped away, smashed glass, and more writing on the wall. This time, the message aimed in the club’s direction with ‘THEY CAN’T PROTECT YOU.’ On another wall, it had ‘WE’RE DONE PLAYING AROUND. SELL OR GET DEAD.’
“I want the fuckers behind this,” I snarl and punch my fist through the already destroyed drywall.
My knuckles bleed as I pull my hand back, pain radiating up my arm, but it’s nothing compared to the rage burning through me. This is personal now. Not just a threat to the club, but a direct attack on what’s mine.
“Found something,” Cy calls from the back room. “They left a business card.”
I storm over, snatching the card from his fingers. “Carl Riggs.” The name is like venom on my tongue as I spit out his name. I knew he’d be behind this. I felt it in my gut.
“Seems too clean cut for them to leave behind a business card for Riggs,” Malice says calmly.
“It’s a setup,” Axe grunts, his eyes narrowed as he studies the card. “Too convenient.”
I turn the card over in my hand, my bloodied knuckles staining the pristine white paper. “Doesn’t matter. Riggs has something to do with all of this. I feel it in my gut, and I want to know what part he plays in this.”
“Hold up,” Cy says, holding out his hand. “Let me see that card again.”
“Why?” I pass it back, watching as he holds it up to the light. His expression darkened.
“There’s a phone number written in invisible ink on the back. Only shows up under the right light.” He looks up at me, his face grim. “This isn’t just a threat. It’s an invitation.”
“Then I’ll fucking accept it.” I growl, pulling out my phone. Before I can dial, my phone vibrates with a text from my woman. I open it up, even in a shit mood, I grin at the picture sent and read the message attached.
Katrina:I love him. I’m naming him Drogon.
I shake my head and type out a message of my own.
Me:Name him whatever you want, baby. He’s all yours.
She doesn’t watch a lot of TV, but I knew she loved theGame of Thronesshow. Could watch it on repeat. She’s even into the two spin-off shows, though in her opinion the original show was better. I also knew she wanted a spin-off of Jon Snow.
The only other show I know she’s obsessed with isThe Pitt. The rest that she puts on are just older reruns for background noise while she reads.
Though I do have her getting intoGold Rush.
Closing out the message, I dial the number on the back of the card and put my phone on speaker.
“I thought it would take longer for this call to come in,” the man on the other end answers on the second ring. “Are you ready to take the deal?”
“There will be no deal,” I state, recognizing the voice on the other end. “You fucked with the wrong . . .”
“The wrong man? The wrong club?” They laugh, interrupting me. “Tell me, Dagger, do you not realize by now that your club isn’t invincible?”
“Invincible?” I snarl, my grip tightening on the phone. “We’re not trying to be invincible. We’re trying to protect what’s ours.”
“And that’s the problem, isn’t it?” The voice on the other end is calm, almost amused. “You think that building is yours. You think that woman is yours. You think you can just waltz in and take what you want.”
Cy’s eyes narrow at me, his hand moving to the gun at his hip. The other brothers spread out, checking the perimeter again, weapons drawn. This is feeling more and more like a trap.
“You want to meet me? Face to face?” I challenge. “Or are you just gonna hide behind phone calls and vandalism like a coward?”
Right now, I want nothing more than to have a face-to-face mostly so I can put both of my daggers through his eyes.
A low chuckle comes through the line. “Oh, we’ll meet. Sooner than you think. But first, I need you to understand something.”
“Enlighten me,” I growl.
