If only I'd known then just how much the fucknut would really do.
I'd have stood up, pulled out my nine, and shot him through the face. Yeah, I'd have caught a hail of bullets for it, but I'd have saved the Grizzlies MC at least a decade of pure hell.
Shit, I'd have saved Lizzie, and the next twenty years of my life.
“Las Vegas? Really?” Lizzie looked at me, sweet excitement building, happy as the day I'd claimed her. “Oh, Sam. It's almost our anniversary too.”
It was high summer, almost four years to the day since we'd gotten married. I picked her up 'til she dropped the spoon she'd been feeding Finn with. She squealed, and our little son laughed, clapping his hands while I bounced his ma high overhead.
If only we were really just having a family get away. The real reason Wheeler and I decided to pack our families along for the ride was because we didn't trust leaving them here worth shit.
I had to protect her and Finn. That meant keeping them as close as possible, leaving them in the sanctuary city of lights while I rode with the rest of the crew up to Elko to get this bullshit over with.
We didn't seriously think Fang would fuck with our families, but the Scorps might. Fuckers were getting bolder in their jabs – they'd hit us just outside San Diego last week, on our own turf.
The Prez was out an out of control motherfucker, and he'd left the club vulnerable to anything. They couldn't stay here in case the Scorps decided to attack our clubhouse and the families in Sacramento while half the brothers were out of town.
“Go on. Get the kid's stuff packed up and go over to Wheeler's place for the night. You can share the car with Julie and Travis so we can consolidate.”
I wanted to bite my tongue off on the last word. Having to scrimp and save for fuel was embarrassing as fuck, and I also had a sick inkling it made everybody a little more vulnerable in one car.
Stop the fucking crazy talk. She'll be fine. We'll dump that crap off for the Mormon dealers and haul our asses back to Vegas, flush with cash.
I looked at my son, giggling as Lizzie winked and got back to feeding him. The kid deserved a couple more toys. These two in front of me were the reason I did this shit, the only damned reason I risked my life, hoping that maybe some of Fang's big hauls would finally pay off.
They would, so long as the greedy motherfucker didn't hog it all to himself and his bastard brother...
“When do we leave?” Lizzie said, her red hair glowing when it caught the evening light through the window.
“Just a little before ten sharp, babe.” The iron fists tensed at my sides relaxed when I saw her smile.
“Ohh, that should put us in around seven! Nice planning, big roller.” She stuck out that tongue I'd wrapped around mine hundreds of times before, and never got tired of.
“I'm not there to fuck with craps or lucky sevens, Firecracker. Only thing I'm making bets on is how long it takes to get your sweet ass under me.”
“Hm...probably a couple days.”
“Bullshit.” I stepped up, pulled her into my arms, and buried her lips in mine. My hand went down her pants while Finn dozed, feeling how hot and wet she'd be for me tonight.
I knew I'd keep that smoldering good through our whole damned trip. This girl's skin learned to sing for me over the last five years, and I wasn't done hearing that music.
Never would be. I'd fuck her at home, fuck her in Vegas, fuck her on the goddamned Moon if I had to, anywhere and everywhere she needed a reminder about who owned her soft little cunt forever.
Her eyes smiled when I broke the kiss, and so did mine. We stared at each other, our excitement growing to go to bed. Familiar anticipation, but always so new each time we ripped off each other's clothes.
Maybe, just fucking maybe, everything would turn out okay. We'd come back a little richer and happier to boot. If the universe really had any miracles in store, maybe the rest of us could keep Frig from any major fuck ups, but the last thing I'd do was hold my breath.
It was an ugly scene at the clubhouse. I stared at the brothers swarming around two huge trucks, big transportation rigs that looked like they'd served a tour or two in Vietnam before the club re-purposed them for hauling filth instead of troops.
I walked past the back, just before a few guys covered in piercings closed it up. I'd never seen so many fucking pallets in my life.
There were eight figures worth of powder and other junk loaded in there, maybe more. For once, I managed to shake off the guilt I always had tugging at my balls, thinking about the payday coming once we pulled this off.
Shit, we'd be set for years. I'd get Lizzie that perfect gourmet kitchen she always wanted, a new bed for Finn, and a closet full of clothes to grow into, maybe buy myself shiny new bike.
“Dreaming already?” A voice growled behind me.