Part 6

Three months later

I walked into the bar and looked around. The smell of beer, sweat and sex hung in the air, altogether not an unpleasant smell for a bar. The men all wore jeans, T-shirts, and the trademark leather cuts over it. Badges and ranks revealed some of the members to me and I didn’t feel too out of place with my darkwash jeans and the plain, fitted long-sleeved shirt I was wearing. My boots were unscuffed and the watch on my wrist screamed money, maybe the arrogance in my eyes did too.

The man I was looking for was seated at the bar and our eyes met in the mirror. His gaze held amusement and I knew he wasn’t going to make this easy for me. The bartender had already given me a look that said, ‘Are you sure you’re in the right fucking place?’

I sat down on the barstool, keeping one chair open between me and the large man. I could feel eyes on me, people sizing me up as a spoiled rich kid and thinking I was easy pickings. It made me grin as the bartender headed toward me.

“What can I get you?” 

“I’ll have what the pretty man next to me is having,” I said.

The bartender’s mouth gaped open and the sudden quiet in the bar was disconcerting. From the corner of my eye I could see the men move closer to us. It was a strategic ploy to box me in but one I wasn’t afraid of.

The man I’d referred to as pretty, turned his head to look at me. “What the fuck did you just say?”

“Well, now that I can see you clearly, you’re not nearly as pretty as I am, but I’ll take one for the team.”

I could feel the tension in the bar rising as the man got to his feet. He was two inches taller than me, broader in the shoulders and his eyes held that deadly look of a man that’s killed before and wouldn’t hesitate to kill again. His eyes roamed over me and he stroked his beard with one hand. “I have to agree, you are pretty, but pretty only gets you so far.”

“Yeah? You want me to bend you over and show you some love?”

“Fuck that,” another man said and gripped the front of my shirt. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”

I looked him in the eye and the man’s own eyes reflected the cold glint in my own. “Your worst nightmare if you don’t take your fucking hands off me.”

The man with the beard held his hands up and the rest of the bikers in the bar stood back. They were salivating at the thought of this man beating the shit out of me and teaching me my place. My gaze went back to the man gripping my shirt and sighed. “I tried to warn you.”

I shifted my arms to the inside of his arms, loosening his hold on me. One fist made contact with his gut and I snapped my head forward, crashing into his nose. Blood gushed from the wound and his hands cupped it automatically.

“You broke my fucking nose, you punk kid!”

“You touched me.” I sat back down at the bar and emptied the glass of Scotch. The man behind me shifted and I glanced at the big biker with the beard. “Fuck, Wrath, just tell him who I am before he tries to pull that knife from his belt and I really have to hurt him for being an idiot.”

Wrath laughed and turned to the other men. “This is Saint Vittori.”

“Fuck,” the man with the broken nose said. “He should know not to call a biker pretty.”

“You think I’m not pretty enough?” Wrath asked him.

The man’s eyes widened and I started laughing. “Stop messing with him, Wrath. We can’t all be pretty on the outside.”

We moved to a booth in the back and people were still staring. Two jugs of beer were placed on the table and the bartender chuckled. “I thought for sure you’d lost your damn mind calling Wrath pretty.”

I grinned. “We go way back, I’m not that stupid.”

Wrath grinned as well and leaned back against the leather seat. He pulled a piece of paper from his jacket pocket and handed it to me. “That’s the list you asked for.”

I pulled the thick envelope from my jeans pocket and slid it over the table to him. “Thanks.”

“You call me if you run into trouble,” Wrath said as three more men joined us.

“You’re really Dominic Vittori’s son?”

“Yes,” I said and looked at them. They were big men, dangerous looking, but men I felt at home with, having grown up with my own set of bad men. Their patches identified them as K-9, Dagger, Weasel, and Omen.

“He’s going to establish a foothold in Briarwood and the surrounding areas that border our territory. I just offered our services to him,” Wrath said.

“It’ll mainly be information gathering at this point. I do things a little differently than my father did. Our name’s been clean for many years, but the big players will soon realize that we never disappeared from the game.”

“I’ve got a few guys that can help you with that, but even when you need help with a distraction, getting rid of a body or sending a message, you know I’ve got you,” Wrath said.

“Wrath the hero,” I said with a grin. “I appreciate this. It helps to know I’ve got backup if I need it.”

“Have you spilled blood before?”

“Have you had sex before?” I kept looking at the man.

Wrath laughed and shook his head. “He’s a Vittori, of course he’s fucking killed before. That’s like a coming of age thing in that family.”

“Hudson sends his regards,” I said. All four men cupped their balls simultaneously and I barked out a laugh.

“Tell him to fucking stay right where he is, we’re not entertaining his ass again,” Wrath said. “No matter how fucking funny he is.” Hudson had spent three months with Wrath after a hit gone wrong and Hudson had to lay low for a while. Wrath had sworn never again and Hudson had proclaimed it the best time of his fucking life, except that Cooper hadn’t been there.

“That man’s a fucking animal,” the one named Omen said, but the grin on his face said everything. “He’s a true master.”

I laughed again and emptied my glass. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again. Next time, I’ll send Hudson’s son.”

“Fuck me,” Weasel said and crossed himself.

“Don’t be a stranger, Wrath, you know our door is always open when it comes to you,” I said as I got to my feet.

“And mine for you,” Wrath said. We clasped our hands together, wrapped our other arms around the other’s shoulder and hugged.

I pulled my wallet out and the bartender waved it away. “Nah, man, here we take care of our own and you’re one of us. At least now the place has some class.”

Loud laughter rang out and I grinned. “I’ll be seeing you guys, sorry about the broken nose.”

“It’s all good, Wrath said you’re family and family don’t hold grudges,” the man said, his eyes already darkening on either side of his nose. His patch read ‘Horse’. I didn’t want to know why.