Steele was already there. He climbed out of his car, followed by Grady. Mitchell, and a handful of other guys who were close to Steel were there too. Steele nodded at Spike as he adjusted his suit jacket. Spike knew the other man would be armed, along with all of his guys.
“Let’s go have a chat, shall we?” Steele murmured.
Spike and Grady flanked him as he walked confidently towards the door. The other men fanned out behind them, watching their backs.
The warehouse was filled with containers. All smoke and mirrors since they were all empty. In the middle of the warehouse, four of Ink’s men stood over a group of around seven members of the Devil’s Sinners who were kneeling with their arms up behind their heads. And yep . . . there was Corey. Excellent. Spike cracked his knuckles then pressed his neck from side to side.
Asshole was in for a world of pain.
Regan, the rat in Steele’s rank, was there too, looking ill. He should feel sick. Steele wasn’t taking his betrayal well.
Spike stepped forward but Steele motioned him back. Damn it. Fine. He’d let Steele run the show.
But Corey was his. The bastard had shot his woman. And now he was going to pay.
“Who is in charge here?” Steele demanded.
A thin, bald guy with tattoos covering his neck and face stood up with a grin. Another guy with a similar build stood too.
“Name’s Falcon. This is my brother, Jackal. We’re in charge.”
“Your mother didn’t like you very much, did she?” Grady mocked.
Jackal snarled at him. “My mother was a cheating, lying slut. Just like all bitches are.” He turned a sly look on Spike. “How’s that cunt of yours doing after my bro, Corey shot her?”
Spike growled. Fucker was going to die. Murderous rage flooded him. He stepped forward, his hands clenching into fists.
“Spike, wait,” Steele told him.
“Yes, Spike, wait,” Falcon mocked.
“You chose the wrong town to come to,” Steele told him. “This is my town. You’re not bringing your business here. You should have just kept the fuck away. Would’ve been safer for you.”
“Oh, I beg to differ.” Falcon grinned.
There was the sound of a gun chamber filling. Spike half-turned to see Mitchell standing with his gun pressed against the back of Steele’s head.
“Aww, you didn’t think there was only one rat in your ranks, did you?” Falcon asked.
Corey laughed. Rage flooded Spike again. All that was holding him back was the gun being at Steele’s head. All of the Devil’s Sinners guys rose to their feet, cocky looks filling their faces.
“Thought you were so shit hot, huh? My town. Guess you got that wrong,” Falcon gloated
“Mitchell, I’m disappointed in you,” Grady drawled, as cool under fire as ever. “Were the benefits not good enough for you? We treated you like family.”
“That was your fucking mistake, wasn’t it?” Mitchell sneered. “Too fucking trusting. All of you put your fucking guns down.”
They all set their guns on the ground. Regan started collecting them up.
“I take it you were the one who let that asswipe into Pinkies?” Steele asked, pointing over at Corey, who snarled furiously. Steele just gave him a calm look back. “I’m also guessing you’re the one who freed him?”
“Took you long enough to work it out,” Mitchell replied calmly.
“You all thought you were so smart setting this up,” Jackal snarled. “But we always knew this was a set-up. We were one step ahead of you all along. Want to know how?”
“I’m sure you’ll tell us,” Steele said.
“It was the fucking puppy,” Mitchell grumbled.