The Devil in Her Soul (Heartless Devils Motorcycle Club Book 3) by Kathryn Thomas Page B
Authors: Kathryn Thomas
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until I call you in.”
“I promise. And you have to promise me you won’t take any unnecessary chances.”
“I promise.”
They looked at each other a moment. “What are we going to do for the next four hours until we meet at the clubhouse?” Jenny asked, pitching her voice to be the epitome of sweet innocence.
Asher looked up and right as if deep in thought before his eyes returned to hers and he smiled. “I have an idea.”
She giggled as she leaned in close. “So do I,” she breathed.
Four hours twenty minutes later, Jenny, Asher, Kenny, John and Chains watched as the rest of the Heartless Devils rumbled out from the clubhouse compound, most of their old ladies watching, as well. It was never easy starting a war with another club, and even though the Demonios de Sangre were out gunned ten to one, that didn’t mean every member would be coming home. The Demonios wouldn’t go down without a fight, and every member knew it.
“It’s a good plan, Asher,” John said as the rolling thunder faded into the distance.
“We may lose some members tonight,” Asher replied.
“We might. But every man knows what he’s riding into. They know it’s the right call,” John said, slapping Asher on the back. “I wish I was going with them.”
“Yeah. I know the feeling,” Asher said as he turned. “You have the toughest job of all: waiting. Plus, if they counter punch, you’re the last stop.”
John snorted in amusement. “One old man with a bad ticker won’t do much. Besides, they aren’t going to have a chance to counter punch, and you know it. You four have the much bigger task of taking Hamasaki without the neighbors getting wind of it and calling the cops.”
“We can handle it, Boss,” Chains said confidently.
“I know, Chains,” John said. “You better move out. Once the shit starts hitting the fan, there is no knowing what those assholes might do.”
“I love you, Daddy,” Jenny said, hugging her father warmly.
“You three watch out for her,” John warned the men.
“Don’t worry,” Kenny said. “We’ll keep her safe.”
“See that you do,” John replied, his face crinkling as he struggled to not show his worry.
“Let’s mount up,” Asher suggested, turning toward the club’s SUV. They were taking the Tahoe; arriving on hogs would get them fingered in no time.
Jenny and Kenny climbed into the back, Chains and Asher in the front. John stood, leaning in the open passenger window. “This is some nasty shit you four have to do. I know that,” he said softly to the passengers. “But it can’t be helped. This is the only way.”
“We know, Boss,” Chains said. “It’s been almost ten years since we’ve had to do something like this. You knew it was only a matter of time before someone pressed us, checking to see if we still have it. We’re going to show these fuckers that the Devils are still the baddest of the badasses.”
John slapped Chains on the shoulder through the open window. He didn’t say anything, but the Devils were changing. Members like Chains, Shadow and Razor, hard men used to getting their way through intimidation and blood, were a dying breed in the Devils. The future belonged to the Ashers and the Gators, the members who could put together deals, members who thought ahead and planned.
John stepped back from the Tahoe. He had brought the club this far; it was going to be up to Asher, and those like him, to take the club to the next level, but as the SUV turned onto the road, he knew men like Chains still had their uses for a while longer yet.
“How do we even know they are in there?” Chains grumbled again.
“We don’t.” Asher replied from the driver’s seat.
“Why don’t we go kick the fucking door in and bag them if they are, and be waiting if they’re not?”
“Why don’t we just call the cops ourselves and be done with it?”
“I promise. And you have to promise me you won’t take any unnecessary chances.”
“I promise.”
They looked at each other a moment. “What are we going to do for the next four hours until we meet at the clubhouse?” Jenny asked, pitching her voice to be the epitome of sweet innocence.
Asher looked up and right as if deep in thought before his eyes returned to hers and he smiled. “I have an idea.”
She giggled as she leaned in close. “So do I,” she breathed.
Four hours twenty minutes later, Jenny, Asher, Kenny, John and Chains watched as the rest of the Heartless Devils rumbled out from the clubhouse compound, most of their old ladies watching, as well. It was never easy starting a war with another club, and even though the Demonios de Sangre were out gunned ten to one, that didn’t mean every member would be coming home. The Demonios wouldn’t go down without a fight, and every member knew it.
“It’s a good plan, Asher,” John said as the rolling thunder faded into the distance.
“We may lose some members tonight,” Asher replied.
“We might. But every man knows what he’s riding into. They know it’s the right call,” John said, slapping Asher on the back. “I wish I was going with them.”
“Yeah. I know the feeling,” Asher said as he turned. “You have the toughest job of all: waiting. Plus, if they counter punch, you’re the last stop.”
John snorted in amusement. “One old man with a bad ticker won’t do much. Besides, they aren’t going to have a chance to counter punch, and you know it. You four have the much bigger task of taking Hamasaki without the neighbors getting wind of it and calling the cops.”
“We can handle it, Boss,” Chains said confidently.
“I know, Chains,” John said. “You better move out. Once the shit starts hitting the fan, there is no knowing what those assholes might do.”
“I love you, Daddy,” Jenny said, hugging her father warmly.
“You three watch out for her,” John warned the men.
“Don’t worry,” Kenny said. “We’ll keep her safe.”
“See that you do,” John replied, his face crinkling as he struggled to not show his worry.
“Let’s mount up,” Asher suggested, turning toward the club’s SUV. They were taking the Tahoe; arriving on hogs would get them fingered in no time.
Jenny and Kenny climbed into the back, Chains and Asher in the front. John stood, leaning in the open passenger window. “This is some nasty shit you four have to do. I know that,” he said softly to the passengers. “But it can’t be helped. This is the only way.”
“We know, Boss,” Chains said. “It’s been almost ten years since we’ve had to do something like this. You knew it was only a matter of time before someone pressed us, checking to see if we still have it. We’re going to show these fuckers that the Devils are still the baddest of the badasses.”
John slapped Chains on the shoulder through the open window. He didn’t say anything, but the Devils were changing. Members like Chains, Shadow and Razor, hard men used to getting their way through intimidation and blood, were a dying breed in the Devils. The future belonged to the Ashers and the Gators, the members who could put together deals, members who thought ahead and planned.
John stepped back from the Tahoe. He had brought the club this far; it was going to be up to Asher, and those like him, to take the club to the next level, but as the SUV turned onto the road, he knew men like Chains still had their uses for a while longer yet.
“How do we even know they are in there?” Chains grumbled again.
“We don’t.” Asher replied from the driver’s seat.
“Why don’t we go kick the fucking door in and bag them if they are, and be waiting if they’re not?”
“Why don’t we just call the cops ourselves and be done with it?”
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