Smokey's Distraction - Chiah Wilder Page 0,96

one more time before he had to leave.

Turning left at the stop sign, he headed toward the market.

The dry grass crunched under Smokey’s boots as he walked around to the back porch of the club. Leaning against the wall, Tank looked up from his phone, lifting his chin.

“Hey,” Smokey said as came up beside him. “Are you ready to teach those fuckers a lesson?

“Hell yeah.” Removing two joints from his pocket, Tank handed one over to Smokey. “I heard you brought a chick to Willy’s yesterday.”

Putting the spliff between his lips, he lit it up and inhaled deeply. He kept the heady smoke in his lungs for a few seconds as he gazed out at the forest, and then exhaled.

“Yeah. So?”

Shrugging, Tank took a long hit from his joint. “You never came back the other night, so I ate your burger. It was fuckin’ good.”

Smokey nodded and took another hit.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Klutch asked as he came out through the screen door.

“Probably with the chick he brought to Willy’s,” Tank answered.

“Yeah, I heard she was a real looker. I bet it’s the one from Twisted Spoke the other night.” Klutch looked at Smokey. “I saw you head out with her. She’s the one Cruiser and Eagle were hot for. You know, the black-haired chick with the sweet ass?”

In one fluid movement, he pitched the rest of his joint at the dirt near Klutch’s feet before slamming his fist into his face. Klutch stumbled back, his hands flying to his face.

“You fucking asshole!”

“I told you before to stay the fuck outta my business.”

Klutch rushed toward him, fists raised high. “You wanna fight? Let’s go.” He swung at Smokey, and the two men proceeded to trade blows.

“What the fuck are you two sonsofbitches doing?” Hawk yelled.

He pulled Smokey back, while Throttle grabbed hold of Klutch. And Tank? He lit up another joint.

Hawk pushed Smokey back so hard, he almost lost his footing and ended up on his ass. With the back of his hand, he swiped the blood at the corner of his mouth while glaring at Klutch.

“Save this bullshit for later. You’ve got club business to handle tonight. I should beat both your asses good,” Hawk growled.

“What the fuck’s going on between you guys?” Throttle asked.

“This fuckin’ asshole”—Klutch pointed at Smokey—“needs to stop thinking with his damn cock.”

“And this motherfucker needs to stay outta my business,” Smokey gritted out.

“Is this about that woman you brought to Willy’s?” Hawk asked, looking between the two.

Neither man responded. They just stood there, scowling at each other.

Hawk turned to Klutch. “Leave the crude jokes and remarks for sweet pieces, not a brother’s woman. Show some fuckin’ respect.” He then looked over at Smokey. “Get your fuckin’ head on straight before you head out at three.”

Klutch wiped his hands on his jeans. “You should’ve told me she was your woman. I thought she was just a piece of ass.”

“Now you know,” Smokey grumbled.

Tank grinned. “Well I’ll be damned.”

Klutch gripped Smokey’s shoulder. “Let’s go in and have a shot.”

The men went inside and walked to the main room. There would be fifteen of them heading to Cottonwood. The seriousness of the mission created a somber mood among the brothers. Once they went over the plans, Smokey would wash up, gather his weapons—a Glock, a rifle, two hunting knives, a switchblade, and a bully stick—and meet them at his SUV. He’d drive along with Puck and Shadow. The cages were necessary to keep their presence less noticeable. Fifteen Harleys roaring into a town smaller than Pinewood Springs would tip off the assholes who’d earned the Insurgents’ wrath.

Downing his shot, Smokey headed to the conference room.

18

Rain spotted the windshield of the SUV as Smokey drove toward Cottonwood. Flipping on the wipers, he listened to their rhythmic sound as they cleared it away.

“Those assholes are gonna find out that Insurgents don’t tolerate anyone fucking with us,” Animal said.

Tank blew out a ribbon of smoke. “It’s about time we set those fuckers straight.”

“Who the hell do they think they’re dealing with?” Throttle growled.

Looking in the rearview mirror, Smokey caught Throttle’s gaze. “It’s Skeet’s doing. Before he joined the club, we didn’t even know who the hell they were.”

“Yeah, but he didn’t force them. They’re just as guilty as that motherfuckin’ traitor.”

Shifting in the passenger seat, Rock peered over the seat and looked in the back. “At this point, it doesn’t matter who started this shit. All that matters is that we end it.”

Smokey nodded. “You’re right about that.

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