“You sure you don’t want to take me out to breakfast?”

“I can’t,” he told her. “I’m meeting someone in thirty minutes.”

“Okay, we can do it tomorrow.”

Jackal watched her drive away before going to his bike where Max and Fade were waiting, already sitting on their bikes.

“Let’s get this show over with.” Max started his motor. “I have an hour.”

“Why are you working on a Saturday, anyway?” Jackal straddled his bike, starting his own motor.

“Brother, you know how many kids I have, and they all need new shoes.” He grinned, backing up.

Jackal turned around, maneuvering his bike to take the lead with Max and Fade riding behind. It was ten minutes to the house that sat on the corner of a street where the residents were afraid to go out after dark.

Fade cut his motor. “Son of a bitch has bars on his window.”

Jackal parked his bike next to theirs. “He’s expecting me. I don’t know how many of his friends are going to be in there. You cool going in?”

“Hell, brother, I woke up to give an ass whooping; the more, the merrier.” Max kept his voice low as they walked up the driveway.

Once Jackal knocked on the door, it took several minutes for it to open. A pimply punk answered.

“Jackal?”

“Reefer?”

The dumbass straightened his shoulders when Jackal addressed him. Then the wannabe stepped back, letting Max, Fade, and Jackal inside.

Jackal surveyed the living room, seeing a coffee table covered in dirty dishes, and the couch was so filthy Penni would recoil in horror.

A muscled dipshit stood up, crossing his arms over his chest, trying to give the impression he could deal with the trouble that threatened his friend.

Jackal pointed at the door to the side of the room. Max nodded, going to the doorway, but the dipshit tried to block his path.

“If you want to buy my shit,” Max said, “I’m going to make sure there aren’t some friends waiting to shake me down. If he doesn’t move, I’m out of here.”

“It’s cool. Move, Keg,” Reefer said.

Max walked into the other room. The men stayed silent as Max went through the other rooms before coming back to stand by the kitchen door.

“No one else is here besides them.”

“Can we speed this up? My mom’s coming by to clean my house.”

Jackal stared at the room in disdain. “Call her and tell her not to come for a couple of hours.”

“Why?” Reefer lost his punk-ass air, trying to take a step toward his backup.

Both froze when Fade pulled out his gun. The two pussies then tried to run, but Max blocked them, his arm knocking the bigger guy in the gut.

Keg fell to his knees, vomiting.

“Damn.” Max laughed. “He pissed himself.”

“Here, you can take my money!” Reefer tried to dig into his pockets, but Fade stopped him, twisting his hands behind his back.

“I don’t want your fucking money. I’m giving you another chance to call your mommy. If you screw it up, I’m gonna take you somewhere else, and your mommy will be burying your body instead of being here to drive you to the hospital. Give him his cell phone, Fade.”

Reefer almost dropped the cell phone. He was barely able to press the buttons as Fade watched him with the barrel of his gun held against Reefer’s temple.

They listened as Reefer followed his orders then gave the phone back to Fade, who crushed it under his boot.

“I’ve got to get to work,” Max reminded him.

“Just take my money and go. I don’t want trouble.” Reefer had gone from a punk-ass to a whiny bitch.

“Did it feel good when you killed those ducks?”

“Huh?” Reefer’s mouth dropped open. “I didn’t …”

Jackal punched him in his lying mouth. “Lie to me, and I’ll cut out your tongue.”

Fade pulled a long, vicious knife out of his boot. “You didn’t have a problem bragging about it during the pot parties you’ve been giving.”

“You’re going to hurt me over fucking ducks?” Reefer’s wide-eyed appearance showed disbelief, unable to comprehend that Jackal was threatening him over something as inconsequential as ducks.

“I like ducks, especially the ones my woman loves.”

“Hey, man, I didn’t know your bitch was—”

“Now you do.” Jackal punched him in his stomach.

Reefer took a punch better than his friend—at least he didn’t vomit.

Keg tried to get up to help his friend, but Max grabbed his shoulder.

“A smart man would stay down and let the punk-bitch take the beating that’s coming to him.”

Keg took Max’s advice, staying down.

Jackal kicked him in the ribs, and when he fell down, he planted his foot on Reefer’s chest. “How does it feel to have someone kick the shit out of you?”

“Please, stop …”

“That was only for the first one you killed. You killed five. I’m just getting started.”

Max waved to them as he turned his bike toward the street where he worked. Jackal and Fade were pulling into the parking lot as Ice got off his bike.

“How’d it go?” Ice asked as they went into the club together.

“He was crying for his mommy when we left him.” Fade snickered.

“He’s lucky I left enough of him for her to take to the hospital.” Jackal went inside to his bedroom then came back to the bar to pour himself a drink. “He’s learned a hard lesson about keeping his fucking mouth shut.”

Ice lifted a brow at his choice of drink. “Since when do you drink rum?”

“I’ve developed a taste for it.” Jackal was taking another sip when Ice’s cell phone rang. The expression that came over his face had Jackal ready to get the men out of their beds.

He was the first one heading toward the hallway when he heard Ice’s yell.

“Get out! Get out of the clubhouse!”

Jackal opened Stump’s door, seeing him in bed with Rave. They were already moving.

Jackal then ran down the hallway, slamming open doors and making sure the men and women were getting out. In the last room, Isla was trying to heave Buzzard out of bed.

“Get out! I’ll get him.” Jackal went to the bed, lifting Buzzard to his feet. “Brother, you picked the wrong time to get drunk off your ass.”

“It was the brownies. I ate most of the them.”

Ice ran to help them. They were going out the door when the explosion hit the club.

“Son of a bitch, run!” Ice roared.

The explosion sent a ball of fire chasing them, knocking them to the concrete. Jackal grabbed Buzzard’s arm, lifting him and half-dragging him across the pavement to the end of the parking lot.

Fade and Griffen were trying to pull the bikes back, but they gave up when another explosion shook the clubhouse. Consequently, the brothers simply stood back, watching their clubhouse disintegrate until the police and the two firetrucks’ sirens had them moving farther away.

Ice stonily stared at the fire that was destroying the clubhouse. “If Lucky hadn’t called, we would all be dead.”