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getting on the wrong side of his Ol’ lady, “baby”.
    I have nothing to worry about. He’s got his hands full with Miss Candy Cane over there. All I have to do is keep my head low, stay under the radar and collect my pay.
    Piece of cake.

CHAPTER FOUR
     
    DAWSON
     
    Nothing clears your head like the loud rumbling of a tailpipe and cool air whipping by your face.
    The sun is setting behind me, turning the sky some sort of purple shit, and I take it in, heading on the interstate toward the club. With only a handful of bikes in line behind me, we cruise like we own the fucking road.
    We do. At least in this part of the state.
    There are plenty of other Slayer chapters spread out across the U.S. but we’re the biggest, the strongest. No one messes with us or gets in our shit, unless they have a death wish.
    It’s a reputation that precedes us, and one we’ve earned well. Tonight we had to act to secure it as some things were getting out of hand.
    Most clubs have some sort of niche that earns them their money. The Kingsmen run protection, the Slayers run guns and pharmaceuticals. We don’t make the shit, we simply move it along.
    I run a tight fucking ship, and when one little piece of the equation starts acting up it threatens the whole damn operation. I was nice enough to overlook the first few mumblings from the Russians we buy our guns from. I’m a capitalist, I understand the fair market system better than most.
    Yeah, prices will ebb and flow, fluctuate some. But when I get word that prices are about to double and shipments have been late, then it’s time for me to pay a visit. These guys think that just because they don’t see me that I’m not aware of all the shit they try to get away with.
    Needless to say, after today, I doubt they’ll be acting up for a bit. Every once in a while, you just need to remind people who they’re dealing with. Overall, I think it went well. I got what I wanted without having to kill anyone tonight.
    One guy got shot in the foot, but that shit don’t take long to heal. He should be grateful I didn’t pick his leg instead. Now that, that keeps you in bed a couple months.
    With business out of the way for the night I know my boys are ready to unwind. We pass over a hill, just high enough to see the bright lights of the club shining below, and it’s like a beacon calling us home.
     
    ~*~
     
    Random voices and laughter fill the walls of the main room as we enter, all eyes turning to us, clearing out of our way. The night is in full swing, with three girls up on stage, small crowds around the pool tables, and a line at the bar.
    I see Uno, one of the older brothers, wave me over to the corner where he’s got a group of Slayers set up. I nod. I’ll get there when I’m good and ready. Gryff and Chase pass by me to join the fun and more than a couple of sweetbutts fall in line, following after them, ready to take care of them for the night.
    “You guys all good?” I ask loudly to be heard over the music to Esè, the prospect, as he helps tend the bar.
    He’s juggling a handful of long neck beer bottles. I relieve him of one of them, right from the middle, and threaten all the rest as they nearly topple from his grip. He manages to catch them though without losing but a drop.
    I smile and nod to him. “Good catch.”
    He rolls his eyes knowing I did it on purpose. I just love hazing the shit out of these kids although Esè’s been here a while, nearly earned his patch. Almost . I’ve got a few more things for him to do first, to prove his loyalty.
    “Baby’s got the new girl running table service. Hasn’t dropped one tray yet,” he updates me while sliding the drink orders across the bar to the waiting patrons.
    I take a long sip of my cold beer, leaning back against the edge of the wooden bar while scanning the crowd for her. It doesn’t take long before I find her, holding a large plastic tray with several beers high above her head, squeezing in between groups of