Page 4

3

BLOOD/Present Day

I saunter into the padded room, already pissed off about missing two hot babes mixing it up in the ring, but business always comes first.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Juan?” I position myself in front of the metal chair where Bolt has Juan’s wrists duct-taped behind his back. “The last time you were in this position, I let it slide with a warning, and you promised me you wouldn’t let your deadbeat ass fall behind again.”

Juan licks his lips, then babbles something in Spanish.

“You know I don’t speak Spanish, and I know you speak English, so stop pissing me off.”

“This was just a misunderstanding.” Juan shifts in the chair. “I can get the money.”

I jerk my head, and Bolt and I exchange a look. “How much does he owe?” Even though Bolt told me earlier, I want to make sure Juan sweats it out.

“Not that much,” Juan pleads.

I keep my eyes trained on Bolt. “How much?”

“As of today, five grand.”

I hiss out a low whistle. “That’s a lot of fuckin’ money for a punk who can’t pay up. Especially a punk who took advantage of my good will the last time.”

“I’ll get it.” Juan leans forward as far as his taped wrists will allow. “I’ll have it for you tomorrow.”

“You said that the last time. You also said you wouldn’t fall behind again, but . . .” I spread my arms wide. “Here we are.”

“Enough of his bullshit, Boss.” Bolt snatches a Louisville Slugger off the table against the wall filled with an assortment of persuasive devices. He swings it in a large circle, then inches closer and grins, displaying his gold tooth, which only makes him look even more dangerous.

Juan rears back in the chair. “No, no, no, please.”

“Shut your mouth, punk,” Bolt grunts.

“Wait, wait, what if I have valuable information?” Juan’s gaze darts from Bolt to me. “Information that could help you.”

Bolt glares at Juan, then turns to me. “He’s just trying to save his ass.”

“No, really. I’m on the street. I hear everything, and there’s someone trying to hurt you and your business. Someone not happy you offed Rico Sandoval and took over his businesses.”

“Quit with the bullshit.” Bolt raises the bat, and I step between them.

“Important people,” Juan sputters. “Dangerous people who thought they should’ve gotten a piece of Sandoval’s money.”

I glare at Juan. “Spit it out.”

Juan swallows hard as Bolt hovers. A dark shadow on a mission.

“Certain people aren’t happy two gringos came to Tijuana and defeated one of the biggest cartels in Mexico.”

“Old news. That shit’s been circulating since we took out Sandoval.”

“Right, right.” Juan sits up taller. “But in the beginning your enemies were weak. Now, after all these months, they’ve been able to gain strength and followers. People who would like to see you fail. Enemies who would like to see the Royal Bastards dead.”

“Big fuckin’ deal. Is that supposed to scare me? ‘Cause we’ve had rival clubs after our ass since we were back in Cali.”

“No, no, I have a plan.”

I spit out a harsh laugh and turn to Bolt. “You get this? The fucker duct-taped to the chair has a plan.”

“Just listen. I’ll act like I’m on their side, but I’ll report back to you.” Juan’s eyes widen.

“He’s stalling for time, Boss.” Bolt flips the bat from hand to hand. “Let me land a few shots on those skinny kneecaps and see how fast we get results.”

“If you let me walk out of here, I’ll work as a spy. You know, like in the movies.”

“Yeah, I know how the spy thing works; I just don’t think you have anything of value. I also think you’re holding out on us.”

“If I find out some valuable information, maybe you could reduce what I owe.”

I look over my shoulder at Bolt. “Do you believe this fuckin’ guy?” Then I jerk my thumb at Juan. “He’s locked in a soundproof room two seconds from getting his legs smashed, and he’s making deals.”

“Hector Rodriquez,” Juan blurts out.

I hover over Juan. “What about him?”

“He’s one of the men who come in the cantina where I work. He’s?—”

“I know who the fuck he is.” A prickle of sweat surrounds my neck in the air-conditioned room.

“Then you know he’s dangerous, and you don’t want him for an enemy.”

I huff out a dry laugh. Reason why Smoke and I have eyes on him. He began his reign of fear and intimidation six months ago in Rosarito. They tried to arrest him multiple times in the past, but cash pressed into the right hands insured his release. Even his closest capos fear him because the man has no boundaries. Women, children, it doesn’t matter. If they get in his way, he annihilates them. Not even his family is exempt. Word is, last year he offed his own sister in cold blood when he suspected she’d leaked information to the DEA.

“Then you know he’s a ruthless bandito.”

I jerk my chin at Bolt. “Go through his pockets.”

Bolt rifles through Juan’s pants and comes up with a wad of bills. “Stupid fucker is trying to jerk us off.”

I snatch the money and fan through it. “You got about two grand here.” I hold it up. “I’m taking this, and I’ll leave your kneecaps in place for now. Then tomorrow you come back here with something more than names. You find out how and where Hector’s setting up in Tijuana. If I think the information is worth it, I’ll reconsider your debt.”

Juan’s eyes widen. “Yes, yes, I can do it.”

“And don’t even think about not showing up here tomorrow with some useful information, ‘cause I will find you.” I turn to Bolt. “Tune him up. Just enough to let him know I’m serious, but not enough he can’t walk outta here.”

Bolt nods. “You got it, Boss.”

“But you said you’d let me go,” Juan whines.

“No, fucker, I said I wouldn’t smash your kneecaps.”

The sound of flesh hitting flesh follows me as the metal door whooshes closed behind me. I storm through the garage, then outside with an uneasy feeling. We experienced some blowback after we took over Sandoval’s territory, but that was months ago.

The few of Sandoval’s flunkies who stuck around Tijuana were rumbling about starting shit, but Juan throwing around Hector’s name confirmed our suspicions. The idea he might be setting up shop in Tijuana brings it to another level. We have our weekly church meeting tonight, and I’d make sure doing a deeper dive on Hector Rodriquez is the first order of business.

The roar of the crowd around the cage grows louder as I cut across the perimeter of the lot. Money exchanges hands in a frenzy as Maxine waves her fists over her head, enjoying her win. I calculate our take and smile, although I’m still pissed I missed her first fight because of that deadbeat, Juan.

Maxine slams out of the cage door, sprints down the three metal steps, and her fans surround her. At first, she seems to enjoy the attention, but the mob tightens, and her eyes widen. I elbow my way through the crush of sweaty fuckers, push her behind me, then navigate us away from the cage.

The minute we’re passed the crowd, she rears away from me and glares. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

I reach out to steady her, but she bats away my hands. Then she squares her shoulders, and I smile at her sass.

“Instead of smiling like a fool, why don’t you say you’re sorry?”

“Sorry? It should be you thanking me for saving you from that mob of assholes.”

“Right, I just fought a fuckin’ beast in the cage and won, but I need your help fending off some drunk, out-of-shape men.”

When she cocks her hip, my smile grows wider.

“Why do you keep smiling at me?”

“’Cause right now I’m enjoying the show.” I give her a slow, very slow, once-over, and she hisses in a breath. Yup, I’m the fucker who likes to rev up women and piss them off. Kinda like foreplay.

Her face screws up, and I can see all the attitude that makes her a winner in the cage. I might’ve missed her fight, but I’m getting my own up close and personal performance now.

“So?” I cross my arms over my chest. “You were the big winner.”

“How would you know? You weren’t there.”

“And how did you know I wasn’t there? Keeping tabs on me?”

“You wish,” she spits out the two words with more attitude, and, yeah, my cock is pressing against the zipper of my jeans.

“Doesn’t matter; I knew you were gonna win.”

“How did you know?” She sticks out her chest, and I can’t miss her nipples poking through the thin material of the sports bra.

“I’ve been watching you train in the gym with Diesel.”

“Nice, so you’re also a stalker.” She stands her ground, all sinewy muscle wrapped up in tanned, tight, silky skin. Her height gives her a willowy appearance, but her strength radiates off her in waves.

Nothing like a strong woman with attitude.

It pisses me off all over again that I missed what Diesel called her strike-like-a-rattlesnake, and it looks like a tongue of one too.

“No stalking necessary.” I tap my name patch on the front of my cut. “More like the guy who runs this shit-show.”

Her eyes zero in on my cut. “I know who you are.”

I nod as my smile grows wider. “Been checking me out, huh?”

She throws me a dramatic eye roll, turns on her heel, heads for the gym, and every red flag in my logical brain shoots up. Only one problem, my dick shoots up too, and since I made a point of keeping everything with the fights professional, I have some choices to make. Either I’m gonna have to fire her, or shut this down before it starts.

Dumb ass that I am when it comes to women—I pick up my pace and follow her.