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Page 18 of Defended by Bama (Royal Bastards MC: Mobile, Alabama #1)

Bama

After a briefing with the prospects, we made the ride out toward Pensacola.

Having a ride with my brothers was always good for my head.

The air was hot and sticky, but I’d grown to love the feel of the coast. The salty air was like a balm to the soul.

Being even further south than where I grew up was great, because it was rare to have frigid temps or bad road conditions.

We got rain and storms, but those usually didn’t last long.

The moon was bright, and the sky was clear tonight, though. We also didn’t know what to expect. Froggy and Hammer led us, with Skeeter and Runt just behind them.

We eventually came to a long stretch of dark country road and followed it for miles. Froggy and Hammer slowed and turned down a dirt road. After a quarter of a mile, they pulled to the side. We followed suit, killing the engines.

Hammer waved Skeeter and Runt over. “Okay, boys. Leave the Harleys here, sneak up there and scope it out. If it’s empty or low numbers, shoot us a text and wait. If it's a full house, just come back.”

I couldn't see anything down the dirt road, but assumed there was a building or house further down. “How far down is it?”

Hammer shrugged. “Close enough they can walk, far enough hopefully nobody heard us.”

“Hopefully?” Froggy joked.

We were all on alert, not knowing if someone would come from either direction. The crickets chirped and an owl hooted nearby as we waited on our bikes amongst the tall oaks. I tried to stay focused on the long driveway, but my mind kept wandering back to Brooklyn.

I thought I was doing the right thing by backing off. Maybe I did. Should I let her just be mad? So much shit happened to her and Sadie in just the few days I knew them, and surely the story was longer than what I understood. She could be confused and latching on to anything she can.

For the first time ever, I wasn’t sure that if I had a woman, I could let her go.

“They said it’s quiet, but they’re not sure if it’s empty. Let’s roll the bikes to the brush just in case we get company, then head down,” Hammer said.

Securing the bikes out of sight and creeping toward the hidden building sucked me back to reality. Even though it seemed empty, it could be guarded, depending on what was inside. But that was the mission: find out what this place was to the Bloody Scorpions.

The only light we had was the moon, and a few clouds were rolling in. Every few seconds it would grow darker before illuminating the way again. The smell of diesel fuel and farm animals was pungent. We finally caught up with Skeeter and Runt at the end of the long dirt driveway.

“No lights, no movement since we’ve been watching.”

Butterbean asked, “See any bikes?”

Skeeter shook his head. “Not unless they’re parked on the backside.”

“What’s that smell?” Froggy asked, wincing.

Looking over, I scanned the area. “Is this a stockyard?” A large but plain building stood straight ahead, and what appeared to be a barn. Several long buildings were set off behind the smaller buildings, likely used to be stalls but there was a lot of damage or wear.

“Sure looks like it,” Butterbean said. He was from the country and he mentioned a farm once or twice. “Don’t look like it’s been used in a while.”

Hammer chimed in. “Breaker looked it up for me. Definitely an old stockyard. Hasn’t been in business since Hurricane Michael. Wiped out half of the grounds and insurance didn’t give ‘em enough to rebuild. The family who ran it lost their home, too. Used to be out there on the property.”

“That’s a damn shame,” Froggy said. “But holy shit, why does it smell so bad?”

“Suck it up and let’s go get a closer look. Keep an eye out for any movement,” Hammer said as he waved everyone to follow him.

The closer we got, the heavier the smell of shit, piss, and hay became. We split up, Skeeter and Runt going into the big building that seemed to be the business space with me and Hammer while Froggy, Butterbean, and the others checked the other buildings.

The inside was dark but there were a few windows. Once our eyes adjusted, we crept around, looking for signs of the Scorpions. Walking over to the front counter, I pulled out my cell and tapped the screen to get a little bit of light. “Someone’s been here.”

Hammer came over and I held my phone over the spot where handprints disturbed the dust.

“I doubt it was the owners. Let’s keep looking. There’s gotta be some rooms in this building.

“Hey, Prez, I think I found something,” Runt called from the hallway.

We both headed that way, Hammer stepping inside the room Runt was standing next to.

“Would you look at that,” Hammer said.

I walked in, pulled out my Swiss Army knife, and worked a few nails from the lid of a crate. Holding my phone inside, I said, “These aren’t ours.” Assault rifles lined the long crate.

Hammer told Skeeter and Runt to take a few pics, then secure the lid back. “We don’t need to raise suspicions that anyone was here. Plus, we can’t take any of this with us tonight. I’ll touch base with Jameson to let him know what we found and see if he wants us to come back.”

Leaving the prospects to finish up, I headed back down the hall when I heard the front door. “Hey we’re gonna–”

“What the fuck?” was followed by the unmistakable sound of a safety turning off.

I didn’t have time to think, so I barrelled into the stranger, taking us both down as the shot he tried to take pinged somewhere in the open lobby.

Smashing his gun-wielding hand against the concrete floor several times finally had him drop it, but it was out of reach for us both.

As we struggled on the floor, him landing one hit to each of my two, a man yelled from outside followed by shouts from Butterbean and Froggy.

“Bama!” Hammer shouted.

My fist connected to the asshole's temple, but I didn’t wait and struck again over and over, trying to say, “Check outside.”

The asshole swung back, though, not going down without a fight. We rolled a few times but suddenly he was flung off of me.

Skeeter and Runt were kicking and stomping. I wanted to step in and fuck that dude up, but those two were there for a test, and this was it. Picking up the pistol that he tried to shoot me with, I went to the door to see if they needed help outside.

But it appeared there was only one other guy, and they had it under control. Walking past, I went to a truck parked close to the building. Opening the door, I looked in the back. Pulling out the black leather cut, I held it up. Fuck .

The unmistakable orange scorpion was centered on the back. Hammer came over, catching his breath, so I held up the cut. “What are we gonna do with those guys?”

Hammer ran his hand down his face. “We need to get rid of ‘em and the truck. Someone will look for them eventually. But we don’t need anyone tipped off that this place was discovered.”

“You got it. I’ll let the prospects know what to do.”

After explaining to Skeeter and Runt how to clean up any signs of the struggle inside, get rid of those assholes, and get their bikes and the truck back to the clubhouse, I found Hammer.

“I’ll tail them and help get one of their bikes loaded and strapped to the bed, then we’ll head back.”

“Leigh can stay back, too. I’ll see you back at the clubhouse.”

Normally I didn’t mind long nights and regrouping at the clubhouse after some shit.

Tonight was different. I hoped we’d get in and out with a simple recon so I could go straight home and talk to Brooklyn.

After nearly getting shot, I had a lot I needed to say to her.

Instead, we had to clean up and make sure these prospects got the job done so they could earn their patch.

Hopefully, we’d get it cleaned up enough to keep any suspicions off us. We didn’t need to start a war, not until the time was right. But we had confirmation that our rivals were trying to move closer to our territory and steal business from us. So, if a war happened, it was on them.

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