Porter (Dirty Misfits MC Book 2)

Cole clicked his tongue. “So, what the fuck happened with this impromptu, mysterious sunrise meeting?”

Brooks grinned. “I called them around three this morning and told them I had a feeling something was up, so if they wanted to meet, we’d be doing it in broad daylight and in a place of my choosing.”

I grinned. “That’s a good play. Means if they set up any traps, they’ll be scrambling to get them set up again.”

That, and I definitely would have missed this fucking meeting had Brooks not rescheduled it.

Tanner crossed his arms over his chest. “So, when are we meeting them and where?”

Brooks leaned against his bike. “In thirty minutes outside of that new gay bar they just opened downtown. I figured meeting in a public place that’s neutral territory would greatly alleviate the chances of this being a trap.”

Archer snickered. “You think the Black Flags give a shit about collateral damage? They’d blow up the damn courthouse if it suited their needs. They’re savages, through and through.”

Brooks nodded. “But we’re not. We give them the benefit of the doubt, and if—or when—they prove us wrong, we’ve got every right to unload what we’ve got and wipe them all out.”

I blinked. “You’re looking for a war, aren’t you?”

He glared at me. “No, but what I am looking for is a reason. Chops doesn’t give a shit about reasoning or rationality, and that’s what separates us from other crews. Our rules and our rationalization. So, we go in with cool heads while also being prepared for a fight. And if they draw first, we make sure we are the last ones shooting.”

Archer paused. “At a gay bar.”

Brooks’ face fell. “Will you just trust me on this?”

Cole shrugged. “Whatever the case, we have to go through with this meeting, even if it goes belly-up. Because if it doesn’t go belly-up, we’ve got good intel. If it does go belly-up, we’ve got good intel and a good reason for our next actions, just like Brooks said.”

Brooks pointed at him. “Thank you. My thoughts exactly.”

I clicked my tongue. “Are we prepared to foot the bill, though?”

Tanner cleared his throat. “That’s actually a good question. If shit breaks out at this bar because we switched the venue and the Black Flags still show their asses, it’s a new club. They won’t have the money or the capability to fix shit.”

Brooks held up his hand. “I’ve already taken care of that. We don’t have much money in the escrow account, but we’ve got enough to help them with patchwork and replacing a few things. So, let’s do our best to make sure it doesn’t escalate any further than some harsh words and maybe a few punches. Yeah?”

We agreed and started to disperse when Brooks held up his hand. We all stopped in our tracks as he pulled his vibrating phone out of his pocket. I watched his scroll his finger across the screen before his face turned crimson red with anger.

Then, he turned the phone around so we could view the text message.

“You’re fucking kidding,” Cole said.

Tanner nodded. “Yep. All right. Now it’s a trap.”

Archer furrowed his brow. “Since when do we give other crews our personal numbers?”

Brooks stuffed his phone back into his pocket. “It’s a ported number or whatever it’s called. Raven showed me how to use it. It’s linked to my phone but can’t be traced. We should all have them, honestly.”

I drew in a deep breath. “Changing the venue before we’re about to head out is about as ‘trappy’ as anyone can get.”

Brooks shrugged. “We don’t have a choice, though. We’ll make a stop-off at our storage facility to pick up some more ammo and guns, but not going to this meeting will prove even worse than going and getting caught in a trap.”

Tanner groaned. “I hate these fuckers.”

Brooks nodded. “So do I. But after today, we’ll either have a reason to back down or a reason to attack. Either way, it’ll benefit us.”

I threw my leg over my bike. “Ready when you guys are.”

Brooks nodded. “All right. Everyone fall in line behind me. We get to our storage shed, then we get to the park.”

Cole chuckled. “At least the park will have a bunch of people in it, too. It’s also public, so maybe there’s a chance.”

Yeah, a chance for more people to die.

Still, we rode out right at ten in the morning and blazed a pathway to our storage shed. We unlocked it and pulled out anything and everything we could conceal and carry. Brooks sharpened his throwing knives and I tucked guns into every holster I could don. I stuffed my pockets full of magazines and single rounds, making sure to place a couple of grenades in both of my leather jacket pockets. We were armed to the teeth and ready to take these assholes on, so we locked up the shed and tore off toward the park.

And when we got there, I saw all of those Black Flag fuckers lined up in a “V” pattern.

With some lumpy-looking asshole at the front.

We pulled up and fell into the same exact “V” formation, just in case we had to play defense. I sat just shy of Brooks’ side on my bike with my hands ready to fly to the butts of my guns I had tucked beneath my arms in their holsters. I stared down the man in front of me with a scar ricocheting down the front of his face. The damned thing ran all the way down his neck and disappeared just beyond the hem of his black t-shirt, and I wondered what kind of hell he had to endure in order to recover from such a slice.

“So, what do you want?” Brooks asked.

The man with the crater scars on his face scoffed. “Justice for Sid, for starters.”

Brooks sighed. “Look, what happened to those guys was an unfortunate accident. But it wouldn’t have happened if you guys hadn’t taken Raven in the first place.”

Crater Scar leaned forward. “And we wouldn’t have had to do shit if you’d just stayed out of our goddamn business.”

Brooks mocked his movements. “For over a decade, you guys have tried pushing us out of the city. Pushing us out of Santa Cruz so you can claim our territory as your own. You have the entirety of California to set up shop, but you want this specific place where we have already established. So, when you talk about being ‘in your goddamn business,’ what you need to understand is that this is our home. And no one comes into it and desecrates it without retaliation.”

C. S. grinned. “Then, be prepared to have more of your families swiped from beneath you until you learn your lesson.”

Brooks lunged for the man and they all drew their guns. One by one, guns were cocked and pointed at us as I reached for my best friend. I gripped his leather jacket and pulled him back, forcing him to sit on his bike. And the look he shot over his shoulder could have killed me on the spot.

“Keep it together. They’re looking for a reason just like us,” I whispered.

“A reason for what!?” C.S. exclaimed.

I held my arms out. “This. Pulling your guns and taking us down. We both know this was a set-up from the get-go.”

Brooks hissed at me. “Shut up. I’ve got this. Stand back and let me handle this.”

I leaned toward him. “Then, keep your damn cool and don’t give them a reason to blow our heads off in front of all these kids.”

Brooks turned his focus back to the Black Flags. “The longer you hold those guns up, the more time it’ll give people to call the cops. Then, nothing gets resolved.”

C.S. smirked. “Perfect.”

Out of nowhere, a gunshot rang out. And when a searing pain tore into my arm, I ducked my head. Women screamed in the distance and children ran for cover as everyone pulled their guns, shooting at the other in the hopes of taking them down. I threw myself to the ground with my bike on top of me to shield me. I pulled a gun from my hip and took out the ankles of the men I could find.

But I saw more Black Flags pouring into the park from darkened corners we hadn’t paid attention to.

Fucking hell.

The smell of smoke filled the air. Sirens sounded loudly in the distance. Car engines revved and tires skidded out of the park as the Black Flags struck up their bike engines. I watched as bodies plummeted to the ground. I saw the dead stare of men falling at our feet as we landed bullets they couldn’t. And as blood trickled down my arm, someone picked my bike off my body.

Before a growling voice hit my ears.

“Gotcha, you son of a bitch.”

I rolled onto my back and aimed my gun up above me. Crater Face stood over me with a gun pointed straight at my forehead, but I didn’t give him a chance to shoot. Before he could even squeeze the trigger, I unloaded an entire magazine into the man’s gut.

Then rolled away as he fell face-first to the parking lot asphalt.

“Come on! We have to get out of here!”

I heard Brooks yelling as someone picked me up by my leather jacket. I wobbled on my feet as pain rushed through the marrow of my bones. I plucked my scuffed-up bike from the asphalt and threw my leg over it, striking up my engine as quickly as I could. And as we tore through the back exit of the park, police cars pulled in.

Getting away just by the skin of our teeth.