Long Ride The Slayers MC #3) by Tara Oakes

up and ready to fight, the adrenaline is pumping, ready to spring into action. It’s kind of like when you’re all worked up and ready to slide into your woman’s pussy.
    It’s not a good time to interrupt him.
    I set my heard eyes on Esè. “I’m busy.”
    “D, you gotta come out here.” Esè’s been manning the door helping the bouncers control the line waiting to get in.
    I shake my head and return my attention to my target. “The only thing I need to do right now is get that cheapskate outta my club.”
    Esè takes hold of my arm. “D. We got Kingsmen out in the parking lot.”
    That fucking catches my attention and douses the flames with ice water. What the fuck? They know better than to come here without an invitation. I wouldn’t go walking into their club over in Chisolm whenever the fuck I felt like it without expecting a brawl or a bullet.
    They sure as hell should know better and deserve just as much of a welcome by coming here as we’d get by going there.
    The drunk man in his cheap suit that’s ogling Candy has no idea how lucky he just got. Hopefully, he’ll be here when I’m done handling this shit outside, so that I can finish him.
    I turn around to the main area of the bar behind me and whistle loud enough to catch Chase’s attention. He’s holed up in the corner drooling over Cat as she sips some kind of a fruity drink.
    Most of the Ol’ ladies don’t really like coming around here and watching their man try to pretend he’s not eye fucking the strippers on stage, but Cat seems to like it well enough, showing up here a few nights every week to drink with us.
    In this case, though, Chase doesn’t even have to pretend that he’s not interested in the dancers. It’s clear he’s not whenever Cat is around, and it’s clear he’s fuckin’ whipped.
    As my Enforcer, Chase needs to be by my side when I step outside that door. He notices me calling him over and leaves his woman behind to handle business.
    “What’s up, D?”
    He asks, beer bottle still in hand.
    Esè is eager to answer for me, but I place my hand on his chest to keep him quiet. “What’s up? What’s up is we got a parking lot of Kingsmen. You wanna tell me why that is? You were supposed to be handling that.”
    The Kingsmen MC and the Slayers have a truce. A very delicate truce, which is kept in place with a lot of effort on both sides. There’s no fucking way they would have come here, knowing it could throw our cease fire out the window.
    “Shit.” Chase places his half full bottle down. “I told you Vince wasn’t happy about brushing him off. He wants to meet. I told him what you said, that we’d handle it at the council in a couple of weeks. He wasn’t happy about it. I guess he doesn’t want to wait.”
    I close my eyes and feel my jaw clench tight. I’m not in the mood for this shit.
    I’ve got the Cartel breathing down my neck on one side, pressuring me to accept bigger deliveries, and Vince, as the President of the Kingsmen, breathing down my neck on the other side. These extra two weeks until the council were supposed to give me a little more time to think of a way to buy some more time before this shit really hits the fan.
    Guess Vince isn’t gonna give me that time.
    Well, then we best not keep our guests waiting.
    I reach around and unlatch the snap on top of my holster, giving easier access to my pistol in case I need to grab it quick.
    Let’s do this.
     
    ~*~
     
    The three bikes are parked in a row at the far side of the lot, underneath one of the streetlamps. For however different the Kingsmen and the Slayers are, we have one thing in common and that’s a love for Harley’s.
    That’s about the only thing we see eye to eye on these days.
    Leaning up against the motorcycles are three men I know enough to name this far away. It’s the usual lineup for our rare meetings.
    Vince, the Kingsmen’s President, kind of like my counterpart. Jay, his son and his V.P. who is much more level headed