Riding Darkness (Back Down Devil MC #4.5)(5)

“I don’t need that,” Ares said. “Been there and it didn’t end well.”

“Come on,” Griffin said. “We all know the situation…”

“You get a lot more action with the patch on your back,” Blaine said. “You get to f*cking command them. All of them. Whatever you want. They have to listen…”

“No,” Ares said. “I don’t want the patch. I’ll take the shot though.”

“Why not?” Miller asked.

“You wanted me to do something else. I’ll do it.”

“Fuck,” Gaige said. “It’s a shit job.”

“I want it.”

Miller looked around and said, “Everyone f*ck off except Gaige.”

When it was just Miller, Gaige, and Ares, Miller spoke again. “I don’t get you, Ares.”

“Neither do I,” Ares said.

“This is a deadly job,” Gaige said. “Underground gambling.”

“Perfect,” Ares said. “What do I do?”

Miller put a hand to Ares shoulder. “You can be mad at yourself for the rest of your f*cking life. Most of us in this club are. We’re all scarred men. We’re all full of writhing demons. But you put yourself on the line for me today. That means you put yourself on the line for Back Down Devil.”

“And I’ll do it again,” Ares said.

“Christ,” Gaige said. “You’re f*cking insane.”

“Perfect then. What do I do next?”

“There’s an underground gambling thing,” Miller said. “Some of the Eight Under will be there. Some of the Coast Road, too. I wanted to send in a few prospects just to show face. To show that we know and we’re there. I figured it’ll get a little rowdy and broken up. The last thing this town needs is drugs or that kind of bullshit gambling. We control what happens in this town.”

“Then I’ll be there,” Ares said.

“Christ, man, do you have a death wish?”

“Who doesn’t?”

Miller sighed and shook his head. “Take a drink. Then I’ll give you the information.”

*

Brooke pulled at the tight dress. She looked to the bag on the floor and wished she could just change and feel normal. Feel like she could just blend in with the rest of the world and disappear. But she needed the image right now. The image to distract and the image to give Armen whatever he needed to take a ton of money from whoever showed up to this thing.

A knock came at the door. “Brooke, it’s time.”

That was one of the other women. Her name was Amber or Ashley or something. Brooke didn’t bother to remember because it didn’t matter. The women were hired for the night thinking they were serving drinks and flirty glances in exchange for some tips and cash from Armen. They’d also have the chance to enjoy the night with one of the bikers, hoping to score even more.

It was all a sham.

Brooke taught herself to be numb to it all. She couldn’t care or get involved. The goal was to escape and get closer to the truth. Armen said they were coming. Brooke wasn’t sure who they were, but she kept in her heart that they were the ones who killed her parents. Because whoever did it… they deserved to die.

Brooke opened the door and was met with three women taller than her with a lot more makeup on their faces.

“Holy hell. Look at you, Brooke.”

“What? Is something wrong?”

“You’re f*cking beautiful, girl. I mean… are those tits real?”

“They’re real,” one of other said. “They look natural. Heavy. Full.”

“They’re real,” Brooke said.

“See… these are fake…” The woman pulled her dress down, exposing her breasts. “See mine? They’re firm. Perfect in every way possible.”

Brooke looked down to her cleavage line. Her breasts were big. Nothing wrong with that, right?

“I think Brooke’s are nicer.”

“Well, f*ck you both,” the woman said as she tucked her breasts back into her dress. “They look good now, but just wait. Time and nature is a bitch. You’ll be saggy and floppy… and mine will still be perfect.”

Brooke had nothing to say. She wasn’t here to make friends or enemies.

Another door opened and Armen stood there wearing an expensive suit. “Ladies, follow me. It’s time to work.”

One by one, they all walked out of the room. Armen stepped in front of Brooke and blocked her path.

“You look amazing, Brooke,” Armen said. “You’re going to turn some heads tonight.”

“That’s the plan, right?”

“Exactly. Do you have your gun?”

“Shit. It’s in my bag.”

“Go get it. Carry it.”

Brooke ran her hands down her tight dress. “Where am I supposed to hide it? This dress is way too tight, Armen.”

“I can think of two places to hide the gun,” Armen said. He grinned and then laughed. His breath stunk of booze already. “You have one minute to get out there.”

Brooke rushed back to the bathroom and grabbed her bag. She carried it to the front of the room and left it at the door. She took the gun out and considered what to do with it. She had a garter on her leg, something Armen requested. It seemed dumb, but now it had a purpose. Brooke hid the gun on the inside of her right leg, tucked in the garter. Sure, it was uncomfortable, but it worked. It hid the gun the best she could without sticking it somewhere Armen had casually suggested.