She rolled her eyes. “Okay, I get it. You don’t care what your clubhouse looks like.”

King stopped laughing and narrowed his eyes on her. “Tell you what. You figure out a cost for me and I’ll think about it, but I want something from you in return.”

Fear flickered in her eyes, and she didn’t respond. No one ever wanted to owe King anything, especially not a female. I’d heard the stories about what he demanded from women and I didn’t blame her for her hesitation.

“Well?” he barked, waiting for her answer.

“I think it’ll cost too much,” she said, her voice holding no trace of her previous confidence.

He gave her a long, hard look before finally nodding. “Yeah, I thought it might,” he said darkly.

I watched her walk away from us and head towards the other end of the bar. It was fairly clear she couldn’t get there fast enough.

Nitro stood. “Gotta hit the head. I’ll catch you later.”

After he’d left, King asked, “You heard anything around the traps about Silver Hell?”

Had I heard whether they knew it was Storm who’d killed two of their guys?

“Haven’t heard a thing.”

“Yeah, me either. We need to try and find out more. You able to do that?”

I nodded. “I’ve got some contacts. I’ll follow it up for you.”

He slapped me on the back. “Good.” His gaze shifted from me to track Brittany’s moves and he leant on the bar in what seemed like an effort to get a better view. Once he’d had his fill, he looked back at me. “I’ve got a job for you today. Need you to collect some of our hard-earned cash.”

“Who from?”

His gaze had shifted back to Brittany for a moment, but his eyes came straight back to me. “Our coke-loving friend who never fucking wants to pay up. Sort him the fuck out, Kick, ‘cause I’m sick of his fucking shit. In fact, if I never have to deal with him again, I would be a very happy man.”

King speak –Take him out or ensure he never comes knocking on our door again.

I stood and watched as he continued to track Brittany’s moves. That bitch had zero chance of avoiding him now. She’d well and truly caught his attention today. “Consider it done,” I said.

He glanced at me. “Good.” That was King’s signature word to convey his pleasure at his directions being carried out. You never got much more than that from him.

I left him to it, figuring Brittany now had less than fifteen minutes before her shift at the bar ended.

I also figured we’d be getting new paint in here soon.

***

I cut the engine of my bike and assessed the street. I’d never come to Bruno’s house to collect before. Usually, I visited the bar he frequented, but I’d gone there earlier and hadn’t found him so figured I’d give his home a shot. Bruno lived on a quiet street which was a good thing for me, and even more so today because there was no one around. Not that I really gave a fuck but it did make things easier when there were less witnesses to take care of.

I left my bike and headed to the back door. I’d almost expected him to have a dog to harass me but he didn’t. His yard was a fucking mess of overgrown grass and rubbish that had just been dumped out the back. Filthy, junkie pig.

The back door was unlocked which I’d been counting on. The number of idiots who left their back doors unlocked never failed to amaze me. I entered and the smell of pot hit me instantly. I fucking hoped he wasn’t entertaining; I really didn’t want to have to deal with more than him today.

I’d entered through the laundry room, which then took me to a hallway and I followed that along until I came to the living room. Bruno sat on the couch staring at the television, sucking hard on his joint like he couldn’t get what he needed from it. He was so engrossed in the joint and the television he didn’t hear me approach.

I walked behind the couch and smacked him on the back of his head. He jumped a fucking mile and almost propelled himself into the television before turning around to glare at me.

“What the fuck, Kick?” he demanded, still clinging to that fucking joint as if it were worth a lot to him. I guessed it probably was. This dickhead had nothing in his life but drugs, debt and a whole lot of regret.

I advanced on him and he must have read the look on my face clearly because worry crossed his and he began backing up to get away from me. “You think you can escape this?” I asked as I kept walking towards him.

“Escape what?” he said on a beg. If there was one thing Bruno was good at, it was convincing himself his problems weren’t as bad as they were.

I moved into his personal space, glaring down at him. “Escape the world of hurt you’re about to be in.”

Terror filled his eyes. “No! I’ve got the money!”

“Really? You expect me to believe that, Bruno? You never have the fuckin’ money.”

His head bobbed up and down rapidly as he nodded at me. “I have it! It’s in my house...I’ll go and get it for you.”

He attempted to move, and I raised my hand to grip his shoulder and halt him. “Not so fast, motherfucker. You don’t move unless I say you can move. We got that?”

He gulped and sweat beaded on his forehead. As he moved his arm to wipe the sweat away, he agreed, “Yes.”

I let go of his shoulder and asked, “Where is this money? What room?”

“My bedroom.”