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“Fuck yeah,” Savior growled. “I should be at home licking chocolate off my woman’s sexy body so yeah, I’m ready to fuck some shit up.”

The rest of the men nodded. None of us were eager to do what had to be done, but we’d all served in the military which meant we were all well versed in doing what the fuck needed to be done. “I just want answers.”

“And if we can’t get them?” Golden Boy wore that psycho smile he’d worn before his prison days. It was intimidating as hell, but more than that, he was capable of following through, probably even more now that he had a wife and kid to look after.

“If we don’t get them the easy way, we’ll get answers the hard way.”

It was exactly what they wanted to hear. We were all sick of the constant bullshit lately. The problems with the city were fucking with our businesses, which made this shit personal. Roadkill had gone after our club and our women and nothing was more fucking personal than that.

My gaze connected with each man, making sure we were all on the same page as we rounded the brick façade and strode into the all-wood bar, Shandy’s.

It looked like one of those old school saloons, complete with swinging doors after the bouncer checked ID’s. I passed the long pine bar with the brass foot rest, nodding to the old bartender, Tiki, as I passed. Tiki was a big ass motherfucker who didn’t take any shit and didn’t like trouble inside his bar.

The tables were filled with men and women drinking and playing cards or dominoes while a few of the tables were filled with couples trying not to get caught by husbands and wives.

“In the back.” I said the words over my shoulder, pointing so Golden Boy and Savior saw.

White Boy Craig sat at the big table in the back surrounded by a few other members of Roadkill MC, plus the same blonde from Moon’s shop. Pacheco’s daughter. Craig’s laughter died when he caught sight of us, but it was quickly replaced with his trademark sneer.

“Well what do we have here? You boys come to celebrate?”

“Yeah, but we forgot the barbecue sauce to pour out in memory of Vigo.” Savior was never one to back away from a challenge and his words hit their mark.

White Boy Craig was on his feet and in my face. “What did you say?” he growled, though he had to look up at me because I had a few inches on the scrawny motherfucker.

“Don’t mind Savior,” I said. “Everyone knows you need ketchup or A1 sauce when the meat is well done.” I tried like hell to keep my mouth in a straight line but the outrage on his face made it difficult. “Now do you want to fight and risk Tiki’s bat to the head or do you wanna go outside and talk, Prez to Prez?”

I knew he’d choose to go outside because despite what they’d tried to do to Mandy, Roadkill was filled with a bunch of sissies. They weren’t fighters. That was why they picked on the weaker ones and also why we were all in this shit right now.

“Fine, let’s go outside. Stay here,” he ordered his men when they gathered behind him. But Lu, the treasurer and the one banging Pacheco’s daughter, moved to follow him.

“You sure?” Lu said.

“I am,” Craig said in a voice that sounded the opposite of sure, but he turned on his heels and walked out of Shandy’s.

“Okay, Cross, what the fuck do you want?” His arms were crossed over his chest defensively, but I noticed he kept at least six feet of space between us.

“What I want is answers. You still working with the feds?”

His response was immediate and as angry as I expected. “Fuck you.”

I shook my head and gave him a disgusted look. “I shouldn’t be surprised though. One snitch usually lives in a den of ’em.”

“Fuck you.”

“No thanks, White Boy. You ain’t my type. I’m sure you’ll be someone’s bitch when you get to prison.”

He leapt toward me, hands out like a fucking baby just learning how to walk. I sidestepped him, grabbing his throat and pushing him up against Shandy’s back wall.

“You fucking cowards are really in the pocket of a fucking local politician with no power?” It was still hard to believe that a bunch of bumbling idiots had stumbled into this shit. There had to be more to it.

“Shows what you know,” he said, grabbing at my hands that still held a tight grip on his throat. “Pacheco is headed for the big time. He’s on the shortlist for senator.”

I laughed so hard I nearly loosened my damn grip on this fool’s throat. “You can’t really be that dumb, can you?”

“Fuck you,” he spat at me but I was still laughing because not only was Roadkill filled with dumbasses, but they had no clue who they were involved with. “What the fuck do you know?”

“More than you, apparently. We already have two senators, both re-elected in the past four years, so if you can’t count, that means Pacheco ain’t gonna be shit. You got played.” And that was almost satisfying considering all the trouble we’d had thanks to these assholes. “So fucking played.”