Stung by Stealth: A Satan's Savages MC Novel #3 Read Online Free Page B

surrender.
    “My employer will be displeased. I’ll be seeing you again, Mad Dog.”
    José turns around knocking Chops’ gun from his temple and saunters out the room with his minions following. Everyone looks around the room wondering what the fuck just went down. We have no idea who they were, where they came from, who their employer is, and more importantly, I haven’t seen them before at work, so they’re not known to the police. These guys could be dangerous. The lights turn on and I bring my gun down slowly, now that the tension seems to have left the room. I’m fairly sure the Mexicans are gone, but Ryder and Crash take off outside to make sure. They don’t even have to be told by Mad Dog.
    “What the fuck?” Chops murmurs looking at the Prez.
    “Techie?” Mad Dog questions as Techie pulls out his tablet and starts to run a search.
    Shaking his head he huffs. “I can’t find anything. I really need more than just a first name and ethnicity. I, at least, need a full name, handle, location, place of employment, something to go by other than just a Mexican called José.”
    “Puzzles are like clues, challenging to master, but easy,” Jigsaw says and we all look at him and I furrow my brows.
    “But easy?” I ask wanting to know if there’s more to his riddle.
    “Ja,” he simply replies smiling brightly and slapping my back hard.
    “Okay, so we have nothing. Let’s get back to the clubhouse, we’re obviously not safe here. Pack up boys, let’s go,” Mad Dog announces. I take a deep breath wondering who the hell is gunning for the Virginia Satan’s Savages now.
    We quickly pack up our stations then head back to the clubhouse. As I’m riding my Hog the wind brushing my face, I can’t help but be on guard. I’m watching the road, but also my flank and occasionally turning to check my six, just to make sure there’s no Mexican tail on our arses.
    We pull up to the gates of the clubhouse. Sentinel opens the gates letting us ride through. He was majorly pissed he didn’t get to come to the range with us, but someone needed to stay and watch the clubhouse. Unfortunately, as always seems to happen, he drew the short straw along with Lookout.
    We all duck walk our Hogs into their parks and Shogun greets Mad Dog happily waving his tail. We all jump off our bikes, placing our lids on our handlebars and start marching toward the clubhouse. The atmosphere is quiet. I think everyone’s reflecting on the events at the range. Stepping into the clubhouse through the black door, ‘Battery Acid’ by Queens Of The Stone Age plays loudly on the stereo. Noticing two guys standing with Lookout, I wonder who they are. Both tall. One with facial hair, but it’s all strange like he’s trying to grow it, but it’s all patchy like he’s going through puberty. He looks scruffy with his lanky posture and shaggy brown hair. The other is a darker brown, but he appears more masculine than the other with a full beard. He’s fuller in tone, but still lanky in all respects. These guys look kind of weird to me. I turn to Mad Dog and he furrows his brows looking at the two strangers who seem to have taken up residence in our clubhouse.
    Strolling up to them, I tilt my head upward in a greeting and half-smile. “Hey.”
    “You a brother here?” the really lanky, scruffy one asks.
    Nodding, I smirk. “I am.”
    “Stealth, this is the two prospects looking to join up. This motherfucker here is Blade…” Lookout points to the more normal looking one of the two, “…and this motherfucker is Acid.”
    Opening my eyes wide, I nod. “You already have road names?”
    They both stare at me blankly as Lookout smirks. “That’s their birth names, Stealth.”
    Swallowing hard, I nod. “Oh.”
    They glare at me. The one who looks more like a gutter rat than a human—Acid, I think—
    curls his lip at me. “You have a problem with that?”
    I shake my head. “Nope, not at all.”
    Acid grits his teeth baring them to me