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CHAPTER FOURTEEN

STAR

We all pile into our waiting limo that is there to take us to the plane. Dixie tells the driver where to go, and I’m surprised that Rage gave her a location. I also wonder how they had anywhere to go with whatever it is they plan on doing. The drive only takes ten minutes, and we are still in the centre of Vegas. Frowning, I climb out of the car and look to Maggie, her expression mirroring mine. Why would they do something like this in such a risky place? With so many witnesses, someone could hear them.

Dixie leads the way between two large casinos, and the alley used for dumpsters stinks of piss. I scrunch my nose up in disgust, the scent of ammonia strong in the air.

“Jesus, please tell me we are close to the door,” Rhea complains, covering her nose in an effort to avoid the smell.

Dixie stops at a single red door, and as she yanks it open, all file into the dark space, making it hard to see what’s in front of us. We all flick the lights on our phones, and we walk further in, hearing voices carry from the distance. Looking around, it looks like an old storage unit for slot machines. Dixie eases back and points in the direction, and I walk in front, trying to be as quiet as I can in heels. I see the light up ahead and switch my torch off, and the others do the same.

“What are we doing exactly?” Belle asks.

I pause and look at her, blinking a few times. “Er, I hadn’t actually thought that far ahead,” I admit, shrugging.

We all gather in a small group. “What do you mean you haven’t thought that far ahead?” Maggie hisses.

“I mean, I didn’t think of what we would actually do. I mean, thinking about it, why did we bring all our weapons?” I point out, the thought now occurring to me.

They all exchange a look back and forth, the realisation coming to them too. “I mean, if the bad guys are already tied up, then what are our weapons for?” Josie asks in confusion.

“To threaten our men?” Nova asks, even though she sounds confused by her own question.

“Why would we threaten our own men when they are just teaching those assholes a lesson?” Rhea points out.

“That’s a good point,” Elsie adds.

“I mean, do any of you fancy taking a turn teaching those cops a lesson?” Belle asks us.

I tilt my head, considering it. “I mean, I’m not completely hating that idea,” I answer truthfully. “I can still see one of them beating Ghost, and that makes me want to cut his dick off,” I seethe, still seeing the images in my mind.

“I think we should go in there. Star can take a few swings at the officers, but we demand our men stop, as we don’t want them going to prison, and if they refuse, then we threaten them,” Alina suggests.

“Good plan,” I state. “But violence won’t deter Ghost. Withholding sex might, though,” I point out. They all nod in agreement.

“So, what’s the ban? A month?” Elsie asks, her face scrunched up, like the idea tastes bitter on her tongue.

“Maybe three weeks?” Nova suggests.

“I don’t know. We are supposed to be punishing them, not us, right? I’m not sure I could go three weeks,” I admit.

“Two weeks?” Dixie suggests, although her expression suggests I’m not the only one that would hate going that long.

“Ten days?” Josie mutters, curling her lip in disgust.

“A week?” Nova asks before silence stretches around us. None of us want to ban sex. I’m not sure if that means we all have a sex addiction and we need therapy, or simply that the Black Hearts brothers just know how to fuck.

“Five days,” I state firmly. “We could do five days.”

They nod in agreement, albeit unconvincingly.

I place my hand in the centre of the circle. “B-HO on three,” I whisper.

“B-HO?” Alina asks in confusion.

“Black Hearts Ol’ Ladies,” I explain.

“Oh, I was like O, let’s Be Ho’s!” Josie giggles.

“To be fair, it does sound like Be Hoes,” Maggie agrees.

“Alright then, anyone else got a better name for us?” I huff.

“What about Badass Ol’ Ladies Of Bikers?” Josie suggests, smiling.

“BOOB,” Alina points out. “That would be BOOB,” she reiterates.

Belle snorts back her laughter. “Just Black Hearts Ol’ Ladies is good, but maybe don’t call ourselves B-HO’s,” she adds.

We all nod. “Okay, on three,” I say again. “Black Hearts Ol’ Ladies, let’s go!” I whisper yell so that I don’t alert the men to our presence.

“Black Hearts Ol’ Ladies!” they whisper back, raising their joined hands.

We turn, now all hyped up, and creep our way through the unit, now with a plan of what we are actually going to do.