Chapter Seven
“Yo,” Knuckles saidas Paco and Sangre came into the Fallen Slayers’ clubhouse.
Paco tipped his head at the sergeant-at-arms. “You made the room bigger.”
“We knocked down some walls. We need more space for all the bitches who come to the parties.”
“Hot ones, right?” Army said as he walked over to the bar.
“Of course. How was the ride?”
“Good,” Paco replied. He watched as Steel, Diablo, Chains, Eagle, and Brutus placed their saddlebags down on two tables before joining him and Sangre at the bar.
“So when does the partying begin?” Eagle asked.
“Tonight we’re going to Satin Dolls Gentlemen’s Club. It’s the strip bar I was telling you all about when Brick and me were in Alina,” Roughneck said. “Knuckles just found out that it’s owned by a guy named Victor Bustos. He’s head honcho of the Los Malos Gang. Satan’s Pistons are in thick with the 39thStreet Gang, who hate Los Malos and the West Avenue Bandits.”
“So the fuckin’ Pistons are dealing in arms with the 39thStreet fucks, Los assholes, and West Avenue dumb shits?” Paco said.
“You got it,” Roughneck replied.
“How’s business at the strip bar?” Steel asked.
Patriot, the Fallen Slayer’s vice president, shook his head. “Real good. It’s taking away business from our bar, Lusty Lady. They paid someone off to get the permits in record time.”
“What time are we planning to head out?” Eagle said.
“Around nine. We’ll leave our jackets and cuts at the clubhouse. I don’t want them to know we’re from biker clubs.” Roughneck picked up his drink.
“It’s gonna be hard for them not to know, dude. We look like bikers,” Paco said.
“Or rockers,” Patriot added.
“If anyone asks, we can say we’re in rock bands on tour. I always wanted to be a fuckin’ rock star,” Army said. The brothers burst out laughing.
“We gotta come up with names for our bands,” Chains said.
“The first thing we gotta do is not take our Harleys. We’ll split in three SUVs.” Knuckles picked up the beer bottle the prospect put on the bar.
“That’s fuckin’ obvious, dude,” Sangre said as Knuckles bristled.
Paco chuckled. Knuckles wasn’t the brightest one in the group. Too many fights and blows to the head probably contributed to that. Diablo was always complaining about how thick he was, preferring to work with Brick and Patriot when it came to security and maneuvers.
“You got any chicks around here? I could go for some relaxing before we head out.” Brutus raised his eyebrows as he scanned the room.
“The club girls will show you where you can put your bags and crash. I’m sure they’re up for some fun with some new brothers.” Roughneck whistled and four women came out.
“Now that’s what I’m talking about.” Brutus elbowed Paco.
“I’ll drop off my shit first. Who’s up for a pool game against Diablo and me?” Paco asked the Fallen Slayers members.
“I’m in,” Patriot said.
“Me too.” Brick walked toward the pool table.
“Sounds good.” Paco followed one of the club girls downstairs. She stopped in front of a closed door.
“This is where you’ll be staying.” She ran her blue eyes over him, checking him out. “You’re the VP, right?”