“Then why don’t you tell me who we’re fucking with?” I growled as I tightened my grip around his throat. “I’m all ears.”
“Fuck you, man. I ain’t telling you shit.”
“You might wanna rethink that.” He was trying to play the tough guy bit, but I could feel his racing pulse against my fingertips. The guy was freaked out, and rightly so. He knew he’d fucked up. Not only had he put his hands on one of our girls, he’d tried to swipe several hundred dollars’ worth of blow. He continued to give us the runaround even after I roughed him up a bit. While I had him pinned against the wall, I plowed my free hand into his gut. Air rushed from his lungs, and he was struggling to catch his breath when I leaned forward. My face was just inches from his as I snarled, “Why’d you come here tonight?”
“Came to see me some ass and titties. Maybe getting a little side action just like everybody else.” I knew he was lying. It was written all over his smug face. “Not looking for no trouble. Just had a misunderstanding with one of your girls. That’s all.”
“That’s bullshit, and you know it.” We had bouncers all around the strip club. They were usually the ones who dealt with shit like this, but I knew the minute I laid eyes on this asshole that there was something up with him. “You best get to talking, or you and I are gonna take a trip over to the clubhouse.”
“This is some bullshit. None of this would’ve happened if you and your crew hadn’t moved in here, but you just wait and see.” He cocked his chin up at me like he was some big player. “Only a matter of time before you pay for that shit.”
“That a fucking threat?”
“Maybe it is. Maybe it isn’t.”
I tightened my grip around his throat, making it even more difficult for him to breathe. He twisted and jerked, trying with all his might to break free, but I never loosened my hold on him—at least not until I felt a piercing pain in my side. When I looked down, I saw that he’d stabbed me with his fucking pocketknife. Rage rushed through me, and before I realized what I was doing, I’d slammed my fist into his throat, crushing his larynx. His head reared back as he tried to take a breath, but it did little to help. After several brief moments, he collapsed to the ground and continued to gasp for air. Stunned, Rafe looked over to me and complained, “What the fuck, brother? We still had questions for him.”
“The motherfucker stabbed me.”
“It’s a fucking pocketknife, Shotgun.” Rafe motioned his hand over to the small knife that had fallen to the ground next to our unnamed stranger. “It can’t be much more than a scratch.”
“Fuck you, man.” I lifted my shirt to reveal my bleeding wound. “That’s more than a fucking scratch.”
Rafe smirked as he teased. “You gonna want Doc to put a Band-Aid on your booboo?”
“Keep running your fucking mouth, jackass, and see what it gets ya.” The gasps finally stopped, a signal that the guy had died. I gave him a nudge with my foot and grumbled. “Fuck.”
“Should we call in Billy?”
Billy the Butcher was the club’s cleaner. He handled all kinds of situations from big to small, and he did it without leaving any ties to the club. Since I wasn’t sure exactly who this guy was or why he’d really come to Stilettos, I figured it would be best to let Billy handle it. I gave Rafe a nod and said, “I’ll call him.”
“And Viper?”
Viper was the Ruthless Sinner’s president, and everything that went down with the club went through him first. “Yeah, I’ll call him too.”
As I reached for my phone, I looked down at the stranger once again. I had no idea what this guy was hiding, but I had a feeling it wouldn’t be long before we found out. And as the club’s enforcer, I’d be ready for whatever came our way.
Shotgun
“You ready for another?” Rafe asked Krissy.
“Sure.” She gave him a friendly smile. “I’ll take another beer.”
“You got it.”
Some of the guys had gotten together at the clubhouse to grill some burgers and throw back a few in hopes of blowing off a little steam. We’d had a long week and were looking to just chill out for a bit. Hawk brought along his ol’ lady, Delilah, and her best friend, Krissy. We’d all been sitting around at the bar, talking shit and having a beer. I could tell right away that Krissy was going to be a handful. She was a pretty girl with a killer figure, who didn’t have a problem saying what was on her mind. I watched as she leaned over and whispered something in Delilah’s ear. The alarmed expression on Delilah’s face hinted that Krissy was up to something. When he returned with a round of beers, she batted her eyelashes and said, “Aren’t you sweet? Thanks, Rafe.”