Just as I set foot out of the cabin, my cell rang. “We have her.” AK’s voice came through the loudspeaker, so Ky could hear and respond.
“Good. Now, get the fuck back. And don’t hesitate to take out any assholes that get on your tail. We need that cartel slut back here,” Ky said. “We have Diablos and some of our other chapters near every check-in point. You don’t call to say you’re good, they’ll be there. If this war goes to the road, then so fucking be it. We’re all on standby.”
“On it.” AK hung up.
Ky looked my way. “A few days and they’ll be here.” He paused. “Then the real fucking war will start. You ready for this, Prez?”
The fire that war always sparked in me flared to life. “B-born ready.”
Ky punched my arm, smiling his fucking Hollywood smile. Prick was getting a hard-on at the thought of killing. Fuck, none of us sinners could stop the adrenaline from surging at the thought of taking some of these Klan and cartel fuckers out . . . For me it would be slowly, with my German blade.
As we walked to Ky’s truck, Viking and Rudge were by the fire pit outside the Psycho Trio’s cabins. Viking had a bloody nose. Both of them were bare chested. Rudge smiled at us, his knuckles red from where he’d clearly smashed Viking in the face. These assholes were tapped in the head. “Foreplay?” Ky asked, leaning against the truck. “If so, wait until I’m gone before you bend Vike over, Rudge.”
“Hey!” Vike said, licking the blood from his lip. “Why would I be the bottom?”
Ky stared at Vike, assessing him. “Just get that vibe from you, brother.”
I wondered if the red giant would argue back, but he just shrugged and tossed another log on the fire. Nothing ever affected the fucker. “Rudge is teaching me how to bare-knuckle box.”
“Looks like you’re winning,” Ky said sarcastically, pointing at his bruising eye and split lip.
“This?” Vike wiped his nose. “Nah, just let the wanker get in a few for luck.” Vike said “wanker” in a British accent. The guy was a total damn train wreck. “Besides, I get off on being hit.” He winked at us. “Like the rough stuff, you know? It’s no fun if blood and punches ain’t involved.”
“You speak the gospel, brother.” Rudge started shadow-boxing around Ky. Ky glared at him out of the corner of his eye, then quickly swiped out and knocked the fucker to the ground. Rudge, being as unstable as he was, just laughed, his teeth covered in blood from his own now-split lip. I smirked, slapping my best friend on the back. Rudge jumped to his feet.
“Touch me and die,” Ky warned. Rudge pretended to close in on Ky. I was sure my VP was gonna kill the fucker on the spot. Then, laughing, Rudge moved back to Vike, and the giant ginger threw his arm around his neck. “Your prez not calling you back to London town?” Ky folded his arms. “You know you’re not actually required to be here, right?”
Rudge put his hand over his Union Jack tattoo. “Ky, my brother, my mate, I’d never leave you guys in this war alone.”
“Seriously, you can. In fact, I’ll buy your fucking plane ticket if you just wanna fuck off back to the Big Smoke.”
Rudge came over and put his hand on Ky’s shoulder. My best friend wore death in his eyes. “My prez told me to take all the time I needed over here with our mother chapter. Actually . . .” Rudge smiled a shit-eating grin. “Been thinking about Austin as a permanent thing.” He rubbed his hand over his chin. “Just mulling shit over right now, but I’m getting a good feel for Hangmen HQ here in good ol’ Texas.” His face turned serious. “I think you guys need some Barnaby Rudge in your lives. Reckon it’d be dull as fuck out here without me.”
“You serious?” Vike said from across the fire pit.
“Like I said, I’m mulling shit over.”
“Yes!” Vike shouted, jumping on Rudge from behind and taking him to the floor. I grabbed Ky by the collar of his cut and made him get in the truck, ignoring the fucking idiots punching each other’s faces in celebration near the fire.
“That prick’ll give me a fucking heart attack. English douchebag,” Ky spat. We were silent on the way back to my cabin. Kept my cell near just in case we got a call