HARDCORE: Storm MC(132)

“I'd volunteer for that,” Missy added cheerily.



“There, you see?” Cain said. “We can even let her in on the action so if you manage to survive getting your skull kicked in, the scumbags you work for know you're a pathetic dipshit who gets his ass handed to him by girls. So, before we pull on our big-boy boots and start the party on your head, any last words, big man?”



Spider Webs smiled even more broadly, displaying several shiny gold teeth. “Yeah,” he said. “I got two for you, homie: big mistake.”



Suddenly, the doors to the other motel rooms opened and a dozen men flooded out carrying machine guns and assault rifles. The bikers stood their ground, shifting their aim to these new attackers. Within seconds, the two ranks of outlaws were standing face to face with their guns trained on each other.



There was a whooshing sound in room 13, and the flames quickly receded as the air in the room filled with billowing white vapor. A dark silhouette moved within it, approaching the door. Missy squinted to see inside, and once she realized who she was looking at, her jaw dropped.



Even though she'd never seen him in the flesh, he was unmistakable based on the descriptions she'd heard and the way he carried himself as he stepped through the door, tossing a fire extinguisher to one side.



Gaspar Hernandez stood before the Blood Eagles and brought his hands up in front of his chest, applauding them gently.



“Bravo, Eagles,” he purred. “You've played your parts perfectly, just as I knew you would.”





Chapter 39



Missy



Tension crackled in the air between the Eagles and Gaspar's men like lightning before a storm. Missy cradled her shotgun, leveling it at one of the cartel enforcers as Hunter and Cain stood on either side of her with their weapons aimed.



Gaspar wore a black leather duster coat over a vivid red shirt with a wide collar. His long black hair was tied back in a ponytail, and his eyes burned with a feverish madness. A pair of revolvers hung on either side of his thin waist—each pearl handle was engraved with a skull. He surveyed the bikers in front of him like a rock star sizing up his audience before playing his first song, clearly savoring their expectation.



“Traps are funny things, aren't they?” Gaspar began. He spoke English perfectly, with the faintest lilt of an accent. “Any animal, no matter how clever, is still dumb enough to be trapped as long as they see the right bait. The fish sees a worm, and he bites down on the hook. The rat sees cheese, and snap, his neck is broken. But the biker, well...even with the intellect of a man, the biker remains the most stupid of all animals. For you see, he does not even need to see the bait for himself to charge into the trap. No, he only needs to hear the magic words—guns, drugs, revenge—and he will still run toward the trap as fast as his bike will carry him.”



“So, you moved your stash here just to lure us,” Hunter growled.



Gaspar laughed loudly, gesturing to several of his men. “Do you see, hermanos? Even now, they do not understand!” He smiled at Hunter coldly. “My stockpile of firearms and narcotics never left the root cellar under the Tibbons farmhouse, you redneck moron. You just burned a few decoy bricks of packaged flour, nothing more.”



“But Christina...” Missy said.



“Ah, yes, Christina!” Gaspar crowed. He turned to one of his enforcers, a man with a third eye inked on his forehead. “Go get the occupants of room 20 and bring them here, Hector, por favor. It's time for the fish to feel the hook cut into his mouth.”



Hector walked over to room 20 and entered it. A few moments later, he emerged, his burly arms dragging a pair of rolling office chairs behind him. Christina and Pauline were tied to them and gagged with strips of duct tape. Pauline's face was covered with bruises, and her left eye was swollen shut. Christina's eyes were wide as she stared at Missy, shaking her head in a silent apology.



“Sweet, timid little Christina,” Gaspar said, stroking her cheek gently. She snapped her head back, her bulging eyes filled with fear and revulsion as tears spilled down her cheeks. “The perfect damsel in distress, yes? Who would ever believe such a mouse of a woman could possibly lie so convincingly? Ah, but you would be truly amazed at the lies a woman can bring herself to tell when she's seen her own mother violated before her eyes, over and over again. You would be astonished at the things she would agree to, just to make such horrors stop.”



Missy's jaw clenched. “You took over their motel...brutalized them...just because you knew Christina did my hair. You knew I was your best bet to manipulate the MC.”