“Wow, that clearly took some brain cells to come up with.” I use my free hand to flick his ear. It’s petty, but I get some brief joy out of pissing him off further.
“I’ll cut your tongue out,” he shouts, and I flick an annoyed glare at the Oath Keepers making them laugh. These idiots like to hear themselves talk way too much.
“Torch, grab this Fist for Chevelle. We need them for questioning.” He casts a strange look at the guys, but I keep my mouth shut. I don’t want to know what they really plan to do with them as long as they leave here and never return.
“Can you make sure they don’t come back?” I chew on my cheek and ask. I hate requesting anything, but if these two return, they’ll rape me or kill me—that much I can tell.
Mercenary growls, “You’ll never see them again. They won’t touch you.”
I swallow and inhale deeply. “Thanks, cupcake.” I flash him a genuine smile. I may not need a man, but it’s a relief to have one around right now to deal with these two.
Torch and Odin both cast him amused glances but remain quiet. Torch draws out some thick zip ties from his back pocket and proceeds to secure the Iron Fists’ wrists behind their backs, so they can only wiggle if they move. Mercenary disappears into the bathroom and returns moments later clad in his club colors looking the part of angry biker once more.
“That was smart,” I comment and gesture to his vest as I get to my feet and step away from my latest victim.
“I’m big, not dumb,” he comments, and I smirk, trying to smother down my smile. Clearly, I underestimated him when we met, not something that I usually let happen.
“Thank you, Odin. Give my gratitude to Viking, please.”
He nods, and Mercenary’s brow furrows. “I was the one who knocked the other guy out for you.”
Hmm, is that a hint of jealousy? The man pouts as if I stole his candy.
“And your club has my gratitude, big guy.” I flick my eyes over him and his chest puffs in response. These damn alpha males always walking around peacocking. “Besides, I submitted the other one. I would’ve taken down both if you weren’t in my way,” I finish with a cocky grin.
He growls, and Odin chuckles. “Come on, we need to get these scum in the truck before anyone notices them gone. I called Nightmare as soon as I got your text.”
“This disagreement will have to wait until later,” Mercenary declares in my direction. “You have a back door we can use?”
“Yeah, I’ll take you to the delivery entrance. There are stairs though.”
“Even better,” Torch grumbles with a mischievous tilt of his lips. He grabs the burly guy by the leg and drags him behind us. Mercenary does the same with Blondie cussing up a storm, and I understand why they don’t mind. These idiots will be hurting after being dragged down the stairs and receiving an ass whooping.
I lead with Odin, and the rest follow behind. We head down four flights of stairs before I unlock a heavy steel door. From there, the long, wide hallway takes us to the delivery entry. It’s like a garage door that you open by pulling thick chains. Ace and I each grab a side, yanking the chains until the track pulls the bay door high enough for the tall bikers to easily exit. Nightmare waits with a pickup truck, and they throw the Iron Fists in the bed.
“I’ll be back to check on you tomorrow,” Mercenary promises. “You’re here the rest of the day?” he asks Ace, and my friend nods, still quietly stunned from witnessing what went down in my office.
“Thanks, but I’ll be fine.”
“Fine,” he copies. “Then I’ll be back to check over the Camaro for next week.”
I nod. “And thanks for the help up there.” I gesture up in the direction of my office.
“It was better than dinner.” He grins, and I roll my eyes then signal to Ace. We lower the door with all of the bikers wearing a smirk or grin pointed at me. Nosey damn bikers.