“Not getting rid of me that easily.Love you, Birdie.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
AfterBirdietoldmeher suspicions two days ago, I pulled Cypher to the side and ordered him to set up some hidden cameras before we leave for the meetup with Frankie.If someone is working with him, we need to know so we can cut them off before they accomplish whatever fucking goal they have for my people.As much as I want to fill everyone, including the council members, in on the new surveillance, I don’t want to take the chance that it’ll get to the person we’re supposed to be looking for.The fewer people who know, the easier it will be to keep it a secret and catch them off guard.
As much as the brothers hate it, all of them except me have to ride in cages to the meet.We need to stay as inconspicuous as possible so we have the advantage.If Frankie hears more than one bike, that’s all the warning he needs.
They stop about a mile back while I continue on.
Anticipation of the fight licks up my spine.
Pummeling my fists into the man who has terrorized my fucking woman and kids is a dark craving in my blood.Feeling his skin part and his blood drip from my hands is the only thing that’s going to appease this hunger that’s overtaken me.
When I pull into the clearing, Frankie stands next to his bike with his inked arms folded across his chest.There’s a kutte over his broad shoulders that has me lifting a brow.
I shut off the engine and slowly climb from the bike, keeping my eyes locked on his.
We stare each other down, neither of us willing to bow before the other.Five years ago, I didn’t get a great look at the man who had claimed my woman.My focus was on her.The only thing I remember with vivid clarity is the fucking smirk he aimed my way when he placed his arm over her shoulders.I was so fucked at realizing I lost her that I didn’t take it as the warning it was.
Seeing that same smirk now, rage rushes through me so fast my hands shake.
“Hello, big brother,” Frankie greets.
“You don’t deserve to use that title,” I tell him, pulling my kutte from my shoulders and hanging it on the handlebars.
When he turns to do the same, I catch the rocker on the back.I smirk and shake my head, not even surprised.
Demented Demons MC.
Guaran-fucking-tee the front patch says ‘President’.
He wants to be me so fucking bad.
Fucker will only ever be a cheap knock-off.I’m the coolest motherfucker around.Can’t no one copy me.
I roll my head along my shoulders as I stroll toward the middle of the clearing.
“We’ve taken out three of his men so far, Prez,” Cypher intones in the earpiece hidden by my hair.
Normally, I’d have my hair up for something like this.But until I get the all-clear from my brothers letting me know Frankie’s men are down, I need to keep him from spotting it.
Cypher said it was nearly undetectable unless someone is actively searching for it, but I’m not willing to risk it.
“Are we doing this or what?”I ask in a bored tone.“Got a family to get home to.”
We circle each other, our eyes taking in the stance of the other, watching for the perfect opening.
Frankie is quick, I’ll give him that.
His fist lands against my cheek, the sting of his hit sending adrenaline pumping through me.I sidestep his next hit, sending my own his way.My fists are like torpedoes, hammering against any part of his body I can reach.
He’s holding his own against me, but the longer we trade hits, the more wary he looks.Anytime we step away from each other to catch our breath, I observe the way his eyes flit around, as if he’s waiting for his men.
Cypher keeps me updated on the progress throughout our fight.
Honestly, I’m surprised the goddamn earpiece has stayed in against the force of Frankie’s hits.Cypher ensured me that it would, but I was skeptical.
“What’s wrong, brother?Are you expecting someone to come rescue you?”I taunt, charging at him again.
