Dice (A Righteous Outlaws Novel #3)

B
eing
a member of the Righteous Outlaws had its perks. Chicks fucking loved the dangerous bad boy, and were quick to spread their legs to let me take them on a ride of the dark side. People might not have respected us, but they were scared shitless, and that was one and the same. Once accepted, you had a built in family for life and, for most of us, it was the only family we had. We protected each other, and I knew each one of my brothers would take a bullet for me as I would for them.

We lived and breathed by the code of the club: righteousness, brotherhood, respect, and loyalty.

Sometimes, though, being an Outlaw meant getting stuck in ridiculous and completely fucked situations. It was almost a guarantee when Miles came along for the ride. He was one of my best friends, and the sergeant at arms for the Outlaws, but shit followed him like a fat kid followed the ice cream truck.

We crawled across the ground of the junkyard where we trailed two members of Montamos, a rival club. Gunshots echoed above, and a bullet tore right through the fender of a rotting 67 Chevelle that sat only inches from my head.

“How do you suppose we get out of this shitfest?” I asked, keeping my hand firmly on my gun, as Miles and I dove behind a minivan.

Miles took a comb out of his back pocket, and ran it through his black hair.

“Are you really combing your hair right now?”

“I’m getting ready.”

“For what? Your fucking funeral? Because if we don’t figure something out now, we’re as good as fucking dead.”

“Watch my back,” Miles said, and, before I could question him, he took off across the yard, diving around wrecked car after wrecked car.

I jumped into action, watching his ass and took out a guy who had a direct shot lined up. The bastard fell back with a loud scream as the bullet tore through his leg. If he was lucky, I’d miss the femoral artery, but too bad for him, I was a good shot.

One guy went down, and three more popped up in his place. A bullet whizzed past my face, exploding in the door of an old Toyota behind me.

Miles disappeared from view, but it was only a matter of time before the bastard returned. I found coverage behind a pile of fenders, and kept my watch for Miles.

Cash, our newly appointed president, was going to be pissed. We were supposed to be finding out information, not causing a fucking commotion that could get the local cops on our tails. Stanson, the police chief, was easy to appease since he was on our payroll, but the new rookie they had on the force was a real pain in our asses.

The deal the Outlaws made thirty years ago with the local authorities to keep the town of Black Hills safe as long as the cops turned their eyes from our dealings was in jeopardy all because of a newbie with a power trip. Stanson said he had it under control as long as we kept things civil. This was not fucking civil.

The only thing Miles and I had going for us right now was that we were just outside of Black Hills jurisdiction.

Another bullet flew by, and I took the bastard out that shot it. Son of a bitch almost clipped my shoulder.

Where the fuck was Miles?

Two guys just to my left, one on my right… I could take the two out and run, but then the one on the right would have me down before I’d even get a few feet. My options were limited, which meant my only chance at surviving this fucking mess was Miles.

I was as good as dead.

Angelo, stepped out from behind the other men, and any sense of calm I had fled. My blood boiled to an unhealthy level. My hand clenched tightly around my gun, and all I could see was his fucking head dismantled from his body and hanging from my hands.

The president of Montamos fucked us over, teaming up with a rival gang and killing our president. The man who was like a fucking father to me. Who was only married to my mother for a year, but took me on as his son for the entire time he walked this earth.

Angelo was the reason he died. He set us up while Gordita’s gang took Nick’s life. The prick deserved to die. And not a quick death either. He deserved a long torturous death that would have him begging for us to finally end his miserable existence.

He stood with his men, smiling like this was a family picnic and not a fucking shoot out. Common sense dissolved to rage, and I stepped out from my post and unloaded my gun. Unfortunately, his men, loyal for whatever fucking reason, pushed him out of the way. One got nicked in the side while the other ducked just in time to miss a bullet between the fucking eyes.

The men stood, as my rage subsided enough to remind me I was out of fucking bullets. Angelo smirked, reaching beneath his cut and pulling out his gun. An eerie smile spread beneath his black moustache.

I wasn’t scared of death. This life hadn’t exactly been kind to me. It was like a real fucking joke actually. If Angelo shot me now, I’d be okay with it.

Sienna and DC’s face popped into my mind. My non-blood sister and my godson. They were my world, and I couldn’t let Sienna go through any more grief. Except it was too late. Angelo lined up the shot, and the undeniable bang echoed through the air.

A sort of peace ran through my body, accepting my fate, just as a Mac truck tore around the corner, and came to a skidding halt in front of me. The horn blared, and the passenger door flew open.

“Yee-haw! Get your ass in here.” Miles bounced in his seat, tapping his hands on the steering wheel.

It took me a second to get my bearings together. To realize I was still alive, and my dumbass sidekick just saved my ass.

I grabbed onto the truck and hoisted myself into the passenger seat. Miles took off before I even had the door shut.

“Do I even want to ask?”

Miles grinned. “Just another day at the office.”

“Cash is going to kill us. This wasn’t exactly under the radar.”

“Then he should have known better than to send us.”

“Good point,” I said with a laugh. The last time Miles and I went on club business together, Miles got arrested and we had to break him out of jail in some backward town in the middle of fucking nowhere. He had a nice scar on his shoulder from the shootout we got in with the local cops.

Miles turned the radio up, belting out a Black Sabbath song, and making me shake my head. Death and destruction came with the job, and sometimes no matter how hard we tried to avoid it, we couldn’t. Cash would just have to accept that.

My heart slowed as Angelo and the rest of the Montamos members faded into the distance until they were nothing more than memories.

Miles steered the truck onto the road, and pulled over when we reached the spot where we stored our bikes.

“Can’t I keep her?” Miles asked, as I went to get out. He petted the steering wheel and then hugged it to his chest while pretending to lick it like he would one of the whores at the clubhouse.

I couldn’t keep a straight face as I jumped down. “Sorry, buddy. Not today.”

Miles might have brought trouble, but at least he kept it fun. We had that in common. Never took anything too seriously. Life was a party. And, in our world, you never knew when that party would end. Every day was a blessing and reason for celebration.

Miles finally said goodbye to the truck, and kicked his leg over his bike. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

I nodded and we rode off toward home. The clouds that had been lingering all day finally opened up and rain fell at a steady pace.

Most people hated rain, but living just outside of Seattle for a majority of my life, I couldn’t imagine a life without it. I could count on it as much as I could count on my brothers. I welcomed the drops that ran down my arms and pelted me in the face.

Twenty minutes later, we pulled into the parking lot of Righteous Outlaws territory. In the back was the garage where most of us were employed as mechanics. To the far right, the offices and, to the left, the clubhouse where all club business was dealt.

Cash walked out of the garage, wiping his hands on a rag and waited for us to approach. To anyone who didn’t know him, he was a big, intimidating guy that always looked like he was annoyed about something. In many ways that was true, but his old lady lightened him up, and at least now he didn’t look constipated twenty-four seven.

I’d known him a long time and, when Nick died, there was no question that Cash should take his place. He was the most focused out of all us, and he knew how to make a call even if it was the hard thing to do.

“What’d you find out?” he asked as we approached.

Miles ran a hand through his hair. “Well…here’s the thing…”

The frown we were so used to seeing on Cash before Aubree skipped into his life was back in full force. “You were supposed to tail two guys. How could you possibly fuck that up?”

“It wasn’t our fault.” I jumped in before Miles blurted it out. The man had no idea how to sugar coat shit. It was all about delivery and his delivery sucked.

“Well,” Miles said, and I elbowed him in the side.

Cash’s green eyes narrowed. He crossed his arms over his chest, and I was tempted to offer him some popcorn to go with the story, but refrained when his jaw ticked.

“We did as you asked. We followed them and stayed close to see if they were meeting with Gordita’s gang. But, they must have spotted us because they dragged us into a trap. We were surrounded.”

“I see you managed to get out alive. Was it a clean break?”

“If you call a shoot-out, and stealing a Mac truck, a clean break… then, yeah we’re good.”

Cash stared at Miles like he lost his fucking mind. “No, I don’t call that a clean fucking break. Son of a bitch. You better hope the authorities don’t get wind of this.”

As soon as Cash finished that sentence, Stanson pulled into the parking lot.

Miles shrugged. “A little too late for that, huh?”

“Dammit,” Cash muttered and threw his rag at Miles. “Make yourself useful and scarce while I deal with this.”

Miles walked off, and I patted Cash on the back before he went to deal with Stanson. “Sorry, brother. I really tried to keep it under control.”

“I’m sure you did. It’s time I realized there is no controlling him. I don’t know how the fuck Nick did it.” Cash went quiet for a moment like he was lost in a thought.

“You’ll figure it out,” I said.

Stanson stepped out of his sheriff’s car and headed over to us.

“What do we owe this visit?” Cash asked and I stepped back to let him do his thing.

I lit a cigarette, and started across the parking lot to the offices. Even though Sienna quit smoking after she had the baby, she still took a cigarette break with me. Her office door was shut and, since I didn’t see Kade working with Cash, I knew what was going on behind those doors. Not something I wanted to interrupt.

So, I finished my cigarette and went back to work, hoping Cash was able to salvage the mess Miles and I made.