air, and Grim was l

ite thought—was that he might have to fight someone from the Black Pirate, his own Beat Machin

entire body with dark, vicious

d had just pulled up to The Cyclone, a

heavily patched vest. He stood an easy six feet five inches tall and weighed close to two hundr

ay. Women, the brave ones, got much closer. Like the

he cop pulled Grim over, he always requested backup. By simply sta

seful in bars—just by being there, he avoided fights. Nothing got past his firewall because he was mean, lean

more than three years fighting in Afghanistan, and no one was going to mess with him. He'd gotten the nickname "Gabe

went down hard in a fight, like a lot of wiry guys. You had to come dangerously close to k

oclamation. All the brothers respected this—and being able to beat up even Gabe was w

antly mocked for his wealth. Binan, Laguna was a small town where anything that made people stand ou

were only eight years old. None of the other well-to-do kids ever wanted to go ou

he other kids to let him play, so Mitch

uarter of the current Beat Machines patch holders and down-voted more than a dozen prospects who later turned out to be junkies, stick-up artists, or w

tly went shirtless, even though he was now bigger than Gabe and smaller than Grim (as

hers because he was usually left outside to watch the bikes at places like this. The Cyclone, on the othe

of history. They'd be the jerks on the front lines of the war in 1944, the Black

ing area. It was a small place, no more than 400 square feet in the front whe

arly busy, but it was al

own. Across the bar, they noticed members of their main rival, the Black Pirates, sitting with girls

s so close to the border, there were plenty of opportunities for enterprising criminals to make money. The Black Pirates

e and Mitch. "And that goes double for y

im. Whatever y

between the Black Pirates and the Beat Machines. But

ed. He craved war and a fight almost as much as he

exchanged a smile. "

ad to suffer such humiliations—he could easily write "self-starter" as one of his qualities. Fights, brawls, and worse en

t he didn't care. It wasn't his fault he was built like a fucking machine. Men

ature was over a hundred degrees, the kind of heat that drew lines in the distance and turned the horizon into a watercolo

rritory. There were quite a few lovely young ladies swaying to the music, giving him and his boys a long look of admiration and wonder. Particularly Grim. He knew their look

This was deep in Southeast Laguna, a hundred miles from Grim's hometown, and

e place. Bikers frequented his establishment, and when they thought they'd get laid, they b

led up past his elbows. Thick layers of sweat engulfed him, as they would anyone working a real job this close to the border in the mercil

tle and refused to charge him. The Beat Mach

ad to be closed for nearly a year for renovations, the Beat Machines p

rkened his muscles. Biceps that are thicker around the middle than the majority of the necks of the pretty little things sliding up

long without a g

ad Spanish ancestors, and they were both lovely. As the whiskey entered his bloodstream and then his brain, he briefly considered bending

e. They wanted to know what it was like to fuck a man who didn't play by the rules—a man who would rather die than be

d a longer torso, the kind he could imagine stroking—grabbing, gripping, never letting go. Girls like this were common at Binan's Beat Machines bar—broads, hon

f the Machines

right, that's right.

e for the party,

ed to the Black Pirates, who were shouting and laughing at t

when he heard her say it. But now he knew wh

s a con

had already begun to cast glances hi

t for the Beat Machines. Moro, their leader, had a reputation for brutally punishing people who refused to pay

hey hung more people. it had been just that individuals knew enough about the Machi

he bottle and felt like he was just getting started. it absolutely was the girls

to anything. They wanted to wrap their hands round the monster h

bonk again. Women like this might never satisfy him for long—no woman ever

ed at a black pirate who gave him the looking at.

Gabe explaining something to the prospect intimately, Mitch not listening and becoming agitated. it absolutely

ed, and her panties were barely visible. Dark brown fingers slid up his thigh, resting against the heavy bulge that had formed since

ear in soft Spanish that Grim couldn't quite understand. He had a deafening ear

his pants made him think it had been something sweet. Her fingers brushed up against Long's, and that t

She had lovely eyes—servile eyes,

who spoke up an excessive amount of was a thorn within the side of the brotherhood, and th

ation of fingers brushed against the pulsing, gentle mound of her clit. She gasped, her thighs tightening around his leg. She leaned in an

d what it'd want to own her slide all that language against his cock, every word choked on his

alled. “With a

e with the request. Manny’s ey

d with violence. Grim h

the incorrec