They rode out to the river. There was a chill in the air, the clouds hovering ominously around the half moon. The rumble of their bikes broke the evening hush, a warning they were coming. He turned off his headlights as they neared the housing project. The moonlight glinted off the chrome of the prospect’s bike parked out front of the target house. Tank was going to give that little kid a nice payday tomorrow.
He parked his bike out of earshot and walked along the shadows to get closer. The light from the windows cut through the darkness, and without curtains, he could see inside easily. His boots crunched the dry grass, but other than that, he should be undetectable. He wore all black tonight.
That whore from last week was on her knees sucking the guy’s cock. His stomach roiled, but before he could step back, he heard dry grass crunching. He froze.
“Like what you see, perv?”
Tank whirled around. It was a biker from Skull Nation. The lighter patches on his cut stood out in the darkness.
“Just going for a walk,” Tank said. With no markings other than his tattoos, he was just another nobody.
“Well, walk somewhere else. That house is off-limits. Understand?”
“I have money. You want me to pay for that pussy?”
The guy laughed. “She’s working her way through all the Skull Nation cock to earn her way into our club. I promise she has no time for you.”
Tank shrugged, keeping up his charade. Lord would kill him if he blew this again.
“Yeah, you can keep that dirty, old pussy all toyourselves.”
The biker opened his vest to showcase he was strapped. Tank didn’t feel threatened for a second. And he should have kept his mouth shut but couldn’t. “Go fuck yourself.”
The guy pulled out his gun but froze when the muzzle of another handgun was pressed to his skull from behind.
Tank grinned.
“You didn’t tell me we were having company,” Whisky said.
Tank ran a hand through his hair, double-checking their target was still inside the house. “Unwanted company. Deal with him because our boy is finishing up, and we need to be ready to ride.”
Whisky knocked the fucker out with the butt of his gun.
“Tie him up. If he comes to, he’ll ruin this for us.”
Whisky leaned down and started to drag him back toward a tree. He was a big fucker.
By the time they got back to their bikes, their prospect was pulling out onto the road. They kept their lights off, staying a safe distance to not rouse attention. He pulled off on a dirt road about five miles off the main highway. The distant lights of a compound came into view. Tank slowed down, putting more distance between them since there was only one place lit up in the night. There’d be a lot of security if this was their new clubhouse.
He came to a stop just outside the spotlights, keeping to the shadows.
Whisky pulled up beside him. “This it? The rat’s nest?”
“Has to be. Look at the size of those gates.”
“They did this just outside town, right under our noses,” Whisky said.
Tank scrubbed a hand down his face. “Like fucking cockroaches,” he said. “Let’s roll out.”
They told Lord all the intel after getting back to the clubhouse. He wasn’t happy they’d managed to rebuild for the third time.
“How’d they get the numbers?” Brick asked.
“A lot of the guys we’ve seen are young prospects. We axed most of their higher-ups, so they’re practically starting from scratch,” Tank said.
“New recruits aren’t loyal. They’ll be weak,” Lord said.
“Give us the word, and we’ll torch the place.” Tank was ready to go to hell for his club.