Scarred Asphalt by Blue Remy

TGMC
Territory , and RIP Six-Pussies .
    Volatile emotions choked Romeo as his hands opened and
closed, his jaw clenched then relaxed, taking everything he had to keep from
exploding. His father’s legacy was defaced, right along with Wolf’s. Romeo took
in a large breath and held it as he headed toward the front entrance in
trepidation. It was as if his legs were moving of their own accord.
    He had to still be asleep. This was nothing more than a
fucking nightmare and he knew he was going to wake up soon. There was no fucking
reason for the TG to go all out like this…unless they wanted to start a war.
    War had been avoided seven months ago. Why the fuck wait
until now to retaliate like this? What was the deal breaker that made Muerte
decide it was worth going against the treaty they had reached? More than
likely, it was greed.
    Zacky-boy grabbed the door before Romeo could put his bare
hand on the shit covered handle, his brain barely registering that Zacky-boy
still had on his riding gloves.
    Once inside, the dense fog lifted from his head, his vision
cleared and the emotional light switch turned off. That was a good thing
considering.
    The inside was just as bad, if not worse, than the outside
of the building. Tables were broken, chairs ripped apart and tossed around,
windows shattered, glass strewn everywhere. The stationary bikes that the girls
danced on were completely trashed: seats were ripped to shreds, the handlebars
looked like a metal grinder was taken to them, shavings riddling the bars
begging to give some unsuspecting girl splinters. The bar top was blackened,
the thick smell of liquor permeated the air, letting Romeo know they wasted it
all on the top and lit it up. What wasn’t wasted was broken behind the bar, a
mixture of liquid and glass lay thick on the concrete.
    Romeo’s released pent-up breath came out as a low growl that
filled the silence in the room. What wasn’t covered in black and green spray
paint was covered in the black shit that the cops used for dusting prints.
    “Fuck me sideways.” Romeo shook his head and rubbed the back
of his neck as he stared at the malicious destruction laid out before him.
    Romeo was about to head for the chapel room when he heard
the all too familiar rumble of a pack of bikes heading their way. He knew his
brothers just by the sound of their bikes. There was no other sound like it,
deep and full of throttle.
    He debated making his way out to greet the crew, but he
wanted them to experience the emotional heartbreak, then anger, that he felt
when he saw the TG’s handiwork. He could hear the exclamations and anger
through the shut door, full of obscenities, threats of death and ass raping.
Those threats grew in volume when the officers stepped inside.
    Saber was in first, followed by Mace, Axe, Talon, and
Hawkeye, with Wolf taking up the rear.
    “What the fuck?”
    “Jesus Christ Almighty!”
    “Are you fucking kidding me?”
    Those and a few more expletives were heard, followed by more
threats of death, ass raping. Finally, castration was added…with a frozen rusty
butter knife.
    Romeo could hardly contain the anger that was fixing to
explode like a case of dynamite as he listened to the astonished men that now
surrounded him. The only one who kept quiet was his VP, Wolf.
    Wolf was always stoic, which made him the best VP around. He
tended to think things through before he let his emotions get to the better of
him. Six foot one, a hundred and ninety pounds, he was not one anyone wanted to
meet in an alleyway. He was trained in four different styles of combat,
including knife defense and offense, and was an expert marksman to boot. He was
lethal and it seeped off of him. Long and wavy, deep-chestnut hair reached down
mid-back, matching the cold, calculation of his hazel eyes. Wolf wore a beard,
cut close and trimmed neat, which hid most of his facial expressions from view.
    He always wore jeans and a T-shirt, or a bowler’s
button-down shirt, and each