Hot as Hades (12 page)

Busted. “
Yes.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “He said you’d probably come in here.”

Dammit.
Cowboy could be a buzzkill sometimes.

“Did he say anything else?”

“Under no circumstances should I sell you a gun.” He offered her an apologetic smile.

 “I’m only looking, I didn’t say I wanted to buy anything.”

He raised a brow, clearly not buying it.

The phone rang and he picked it up. As Steele spoke with the caller, she drifted over to the small collection of derringers, dainty little guns which only held two shells. It would be the perfect size to slip into one of her slutty costumes and two shots is better than nothing. Too bad, Cowboy put a preemptive kibosh on the shopping trip.

Steele finished his call and drifted over to where she stood at the display case. “Sorry about that, we’re a little shorthanded around here.”

She smiled. “I’m sure you won’t be that way for long, who wouldn’t want to work in this place?” She’d often thought it’d be the perfect business to own.

His lips twitched. “You’re an enthusiast, huh?”

“You could say that.”

 He cocked his head to the side as he gave her a twice over. “If you’re so into guns, you should be able to answer a few questions. Who is Walt Berger?”

“Are you interviewing me or something?” she asked, raising her chin.

“Nah, you already got a job with the club, but I’m curious. We don’t get many women in this place other than wives buying guns as a present. Are you stalling or what?” he challenged. “Answer the question.”

“Ha, that’s an easy one. He makes bullets.”

He raised a brow, gave her a considering look. “Which gun is known as the Peacemaker?”

“The Colt M1873,” she answered with a smug smile.

She read some respect in his eyes, then. “I heard you’re a Marine.”

“You heard right.”

He turned around, slung his cut down so she could see the
Semper Fi
tattooed at the base of his neck. Then, he grabbed that gorgeous Winchester off the wall, and began reciting the Marine rifleman’s creed. “This is my rifle. There are many like it, but this one is mine.” Then, he handed it off to her.

She loved the feel of steel in her hands again. “My rifle is my best friend. It is my life,” she intoned. “I must master it as I must master my life.” Together, they finished reciting the rest of the creed and grinned when they finished. He placed the gun back on the wall.

“Oorah, leatherneck,” he bellowed.

 “Oorah, devildog!” she shouted.

Leatherneck and devildog, along with jarhead and some others were alternate names for a Marine. She hadn’t been around other soldiers in a while and she missed the camaraderie. Especially, the little things. Like when they greet each other, soldiers ‘sound off” loud and proud, part showmanship, and part pissing contest, to see who the biggest baddest Marine was.

He lifted his chin. “Sorry, I can’t sell you a piece, but you give those Raptors some Marine-style hell.”

“I plan on it.” With a grin, she left the shop.

***

“You mind givin’ me a hand?”

Daisy had been about to climb into her Silverado and head out when she turned to see the older woman she’d spoken with at the diner the other day, Eddie, trying to manhandle three large bags of ice into the trunk of her SUV. She rushed over to help, grabbing one of the big bags and heaving it into the vehicle.

Eddie wiped away the moisture on the legs of her tight jeans. “You got plans tonight, honey?”

“Uh,” she hesitated.
Crap.

She placed her hands on her hips. “You’re about to lie, so save it. I’m having a party tonight, just the girls. You are coming with me.”

 “I don’t think I should. I really don’t know anyone here.”

“The best place to meet people is at a party.” She grinned. “Besides, it’s for a good cause. Lexie Cooper, the president’s daughter, just recently moved here for grad school. Poor thing doesn’t know anyone and it’s her twenty-first birthday.”

Oh God. A twenty-first birthday beer bash? No thanks
. She’d gotten a bit old for that crap. Especially since she’d started working at a strip club full of horny, drunken dudes. A quiet night in front of the television sounded a hell of a lot better. “Sorry, I can’t—”

“I get it. You’re strong, independent, and you don’t want to get involved.” She sighed. “Dear Lord, you remind me of myself at your age. But I’m not above a little arm twisting. You are working with the club now and attending this party is filed under the category of other duties as assigned. But don’t worry! I make some first rate moonshine.”

She fished her keys out of her pocket and strutted to the driver’s side door on her clackety high heels. “Enough, chit chat. Let’s get motoring. I’ve got to run a few errands and you can follow me.”

“Crap,” Daisy said succinctly, heading for her truck with a sense of impending doom.

Chapter Ten

Cowboy settled into his chair around the Four Horsemen’s boardroom table for the weekly meeting. Perdition, the club-owned bar, served as the clubhouse and Horsemen headquarters.

The boardroom had been designed to intimidate others. The steel entrance doors were stamped with the image of a stallion’s head, along with the club’s name. A quote from Revelations was painstakingly carved into the long oak table dominating the room:
Behold a pale horse. And his name that sat on him was Death. And Hell followed with him.

Yet another bible quote hung in a poster-sized frame hung on the wall:
And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who would attempt to poison and destroy my brothers
.

He shot a glance around the room, noting they had a full table tonight, and then some. All of the members were present – Captain, Shepherd, Justice, Axel, Voodoo, Goat, Duke, Coyote, Breaker, Jagger, Ranger, Ryker, Renegade, Ace, Steele, and Wild. Even the prospects were in attendance because of a special piece of new business, though they’d been instructed to shut the hell up.

“We’re gonna call this a speed meeting,” Captain said. “My daughter’s birthday is tonight and if I’m late gettin’ her to Eddie’s place, I’ll never hear the fucking end of it.”

The men laughed in response. The club didn’t have many old ladies or kids these days, but the ones who remained were very important. In the past, a lot of the brothers had been convicted under RICO statutes, and most of the old ladies bailed, taking their kids with them.

 The bikers who weren’t convicted and sent away for life, ended up dead in a shootout with FBI agents and the cartel. It had been a messy, bloody episode in club history. None of them wanted any repeats and they kept the club mostly legit these days, a big part of the reason they invested in businesses.

Cowboy hadn’t been around at the time, but he’d heard the idea to buy the town businesses was spearheaded by Eddie. Since a lot of the old ladies had gotten the fuck out of Dodge and most of the brothers were out of commission, she’d stepped up with an investment strategy to save the Four Horsemen. Captain served as president, but since he didn’t have an old lady, Eddie was viewed as the female figurehead for the MC.

Captain nodded to Shepherd. “Let’s talk old business, first. We still have that toy run in San Antonio in a couple of weeks. Who wants to go?”

All the men held up their hands, except Duke and himself. Duke had never been much of a joiner and Cowboy had the ongoing assignment at the Palace.

Captain wrote down their names. “Okay then, we’ll close up shop those days.Duke and Cowboy will be the point men while we’re gone”. He turned to Shep. “How’s Eddie’s bootlegging going?”

“Very well. She’s supplying to three counties right now.” He leaned back in his chair. “Best fuckin’ moonshine in Texas.”

The men pounded the table in agreement. It was good shit, but you had to be careful, it could get you commode-huggin’, knee-walkin’ drunk real quick.

“The operation might be getting too big for its britches,” Captain said thoughtfully. “I’ll warn her to keep it a small, in case ATF decides to poke around. Or in case those Beauregard bastards gets wind of it.”

The Beauregards were notorious bootleggers in the area. They might not be an MC, but they had an outlaw outlook when it came to protecting their territory.

Captain glanced at Cowboy. “Any Raptor news?”

“They’re a bunch of closed-lipped motherfuckers,” he griped. “We ain’t got nothin’ yet.”

“Tell us as soon as you know more,” Shepherd said. “Especially about the brothel. Once you get the location, we’ll send a couple brothers to scope it out.”

“Agreed,” Captain said. “Someone else should go. If Cowboy shows up, they’re bound to get suspicious.”

Cowboy dipped his head in agreement.

 “Next order of business,” Captain said, gesturing to Steele. “Did Detective Frost hand anything off to you?”

In addition to running Inferno and the shooting range, Steele did some bounty hunting on the side. He didn’t have a criminal record and enjoyed skip tracing for fun and profit, along with a vigilante gig now and then.

“Frost got tipped off by a contact at child support enforcement. There’s a guy being paid under the table who owes his kids six thousand bucks,” Steele informed them. “He’s part of some gambling operation out of Dallas. Since his illegal income isn’t reported, there’s no way to take money from the dickhead’s paycheck. Apparently, he’s been stiffing his kids, while he’s livin’ the high life. Frost wants me to help adjust his attitude.”

Frost usually let Steele know when some asshole slipped through the legal cracks, so the club could administer some justice, nothing which would blow back on Frost, of course. In this case, if the deadbeat tried to fight it, he’d expose the illegal gambling operation and get a long ass jail sentence, if he was lucky enough to avoid a bullet from his employers.

The Horsemen also extracted an “asshole fee” from people they had to mete out some vigilante justice to. Cowboy thought it was only fair that they charged the perpetrators, not the victims who came to them for assistance. They’d extorted asshole fees from stalkers, rapists, molesters and the like. Along with the fee, the MC also got some measure of compensation for the victim as well. Sometimes money like the deadbeat dad case, sometimes something a little more inventive. And bloody.

“How’s business at Inferno?” Captain asked.

“Brisk,” Steele said. “Sales are way up from last quarter, and we’re solidly in the black. Though, I could do with an extra set of hands.”

That didn’t surprise Cowboy; the gun business in Texas, always seemed to be pretty good.

Captain glanced around the table. “Anyone opposed to hirin’ someone for Inferno?”

No one protested, so Captain smacked the gavel against the table. “Motion passes. And Seventh Circle?” he asked, turning to Axel.

“We’re making some serious bank. Dani is one hell of an assistant mechanic. I think she might be better at this shit than me.”

Goat grinned like any proud papa should. “That’s my baby.”

 “Perdition?” Captain asked Ryker.

“Also doing well,” he answered. “Pinky suggested adding some lady drinks to the menu. She thinks it might bring in some more female townies,” he said wryly.

“Great,” Cowboy said, rolling his eyes. “Like we need more hellions runnin’ around the place.”

Ryker grinned. “In my opinion, you can never have too much.”

 “It’s a wonder you don’t have syph,” Duke muttered under his breath.

“I heard you, fuckwad,” Ryker growled.

“Enough!” Captain growled, smacking the gavel. “If you two start up again, I’m gonna knock your heads together.”

Duke and Ryker didn’t exactly get along. For the most part, Cowboy stayed the fuck out of it. Though, he sometimes wanted to punch them both out, if only to get a little peace.

 The president gestured to Voodoo. “And Hades?”

“Also doing well,” Voodoo said, inclining his head. “We’re getting more and more business from the town because word of mouth has spread. I’m hoping to double the business by this time next year.”

“You will, brother, all due to your damn fine skills,” Cowboy said, clapping him on the back. The rest of the brothers pounded the table in agreement.

“That brings us to our first order of new business,” Shep said.

Captain cast a truly evil smile in the prospects’ direction. “It’s nearly time for the Apocalypse Rally, during Halloween week.”

 As the mother charter, they held a rally every year and thousands of Horsemen from all over the country descended on Hell for booze, babes, and general mayhem.

Shep addressed the prospects. “You boys will be doin’ most of the labor. You’re setting up and tearing down, running the booths, and anything else we tell you to do. I hope you’re ready for some serious grunt work.”

They groaned.

The VP raised a brow. “What the fuck did you say?”

“Yes, Sir!” they shouted in unison.

 “I thought so. Also, it is traditional for our chapter to put prospects through Revelation on Halloween Night. Only the best of you will survive it,” he said quietly.

They all had eyes as wide saucers.

“And if you do, you will be reborn as true Horsemen.”

Cowboy smirked, remembering his own experience with Revelation, the Horsemen initiation ceremony. He’d nearly shit his pants. Twice. He didn’t envy the prospects at all.

“Now, get the fuck out of here,” Shep said to them. “You’re due at Eddie’s place in a few minutes to play bartenders and waiters.” They hopped up and headed out the door. “I’ll meet you there in a few.”

 “We got one last new business item on the agenda,” Captain said. “Related to the Raptor shit we discussed earlier.” He glanced at Duke. “Has it been taken care of?”

He shook his head. “I’ll handle it tonight.”

“What are you talking about?” Cowboy asked. He hated not being in the fucking loop on something, especially when it pertained to Daisy. In his experience, that secretive kind of shit had a way of coming around to bite you on the ass.