Page 18 of Down & Dirty: Rage

When he caught movement in the corner of his eye, he thought it was the girls ready to start the early shift since the front doors would be unlocked soon.

It wasn’t like there’d be a rush of customers, but some regulars like to grab the best seats right at the stage. How they had all that expendable cash to toss on stage, he had no fucking clue, but he’d like to know their secret.

He did a double-take at the sole person making determined strides his way.

Jesus fuck.That definitely wasn’t one of his girls. Someone must’ve left the back door unlocked.

The last person he expected to see today was Steel.

Former Special Forces. Retired Shadow and underground fighter. Current MMAinstructor.

Even at his age, Piper’s father still oozed badass.

“What are you doin’ here?” Rage asked the man when he bellied up to the bar. Though, despite that age, Steel still didn’t have much of a belly. It was more of a six-pack. He and his wife and former MMA champion, Kat, still worked out like crazy. Along with helping out at Shadow Valley Fitness by teaching boxing and MMA to the area’s youth. They also trained the DAMC women in self-defense.

Steel grunted. “Need a word.”

“Let’s fuckin’ hear it.” Rage took another long gulp of coffee.

Steel leaned in closer, locking eyes with Rage. The look in them would make a normal person shit their pants, but Rage knew whatever anger the older man was holding onto wasn’t directed at him. “Listen. You find out who those fuckers are that hurt Pip, you give that info to me.”

Fuck.He glanced around to make sure no one else was within hearing range. He kept his voice low when he said, “Already handled.”

Steel’s head jerked back and the toothpick he was never without jumped from one corner of his mouth to the other. “What are you talking about?”

Rage dug the name patches out of the inner pocket of his cut, where he had moved them after discarding his bloody jeans, and tossed them onto the bar in front of Steel. “Exactly what I fuckin’ said. Got it handled.”

Steel fingered the patches. There was no way he could miss the dried blood on the embroidered rectangles. “Those were the ones involved?”

“Yeah.”

Steel grinned around the toothpick in his mouth. “Good. Think they’re done fucking with the club?”

“No.”

That grin fell flat. “What are you jackasses doing about it?”

Rage wished he had that fucking answer. “Got any suggestions?”

Steel had been on the six-man team that eliminated the Warriors. He probably had a shitload of suggestions.

And if so, Rage was going to listen to every fucking one. After that, he’d decide which of those he’d bring to the table.

Chapter Four

“You’re runningout of space, Ash.” Lyric studied his bare chest and arms. Every visible inch of skin was already occupied with ink.

The DAMC sergeant at arms grunted. “Plenty of space left.”

“Where? Your asshole?”

Ashton cracked a grin. “My face.”

Her long, black braid swept across her back when she shook her head. “Oh no. No. No. No. If you want face tats, go elsewhere. You know I don’t like them. And you’re too handsome for that.”

“Done ‘em before.”

“On customers. Not family.”