FIRE & RUIN
CHAPTER 9
THE LINE
The sun was already up by the time they pushed the boat off the bank.
Low, golden light stretched across the water, flat and quiet, just a thin ripple where the hull cut through. The air still had a bite to it, but the kind that would burn off quick once the sun climbed higher.
Don stepped in first, steady as ever, then shifted his weight and took the cooler from Lane without looking at him.
Lane followed, boots thudding lightly against the metal.
No rush. No wasted movement.
They didn’t talk while they got set.
Rod case opened. Lines checked. Hooks laid out on the bench between them.
Don dropped into his seat, braced the rod against his thigh, and nodded once toward the open water.
“Take us out, son.”
Lane turned the motor over. It growled low, then settled.
They moved out slow.
A long stretch passed before either of them said anything.
Don cast first. Clean, practiced. Line cut out across the surface, landed smooth.
Lane killed the motor and let the boat drift.
“Kolton’s got the Roma run tonight.”
Lane watched his line.
“Yeah.”
Don shifted slightly, adjusting his grip.
“He’s running point. Let’s see how he handles it.”
Lane didn’t respond right away.
The water stayed flat. Sun climbing higher now, hitting the surface in long streaks.
“He’s using again,” Lane said. “And he ain’t trying to hide it.”
Don shrugged, barely.
“Never did.”
Another stretch of quiet.
A bird cut across the water low, then disappeared into the brush.
Don finally looked at him.
“He’ll be high before they even hit Roma.”
“If you knew, why did you let me put him in charge?”
“Same reason you put him charge knowing he’s using.”
Don shrugged.
“Fuck it. He’s a grown man, right? I don’t give a shit anymore as long he gets it done.”
Lane nodded once.
“Well, there’s something else.”
That got Don’s attention.
“What.”
Lane looked at him.
“He went into her room last night.”
A beat.
Don’s eyes drifted back to the water.
“Whose? Toast?”
“Yeah, and she didn’t want him there.”
Lane didn’t move.
“Were they fighting?”
Don just watched his line.
Lane’s voice stayed even.
“Look like more than that when I saw him come out.”
Another beat.
Don shifted slightly in his seat.
“What it look like?”
Lane’s grip on the rod didn’t change.
“Wrong. Like he forced himself on her.”
“You sure you’re not reading into it. Couples fight all the time.”
Lane shook his head once.
“That wasn’t that.”
Silence.
Longer this time.
The boat drifted slow, barely moving.
Don exhaled through his nose.
“You talk to her?”
“No.”
“You talk to him?”
Lane looked over at him now.
“Yeah, and he pretty much confirmed.”
That got a look.
Not surprised.
“You beat his ass.”
Lane didn’t hesitate.
“I landed a couple on him.”
Don shook his head.
Then looked back at the water.
“She makes him lose his goddamn mind. Always has, even when they were kids.”
Lane’s expression didn’t change.
“That’s the problem.”
Don didn’t answer.
“We need to put some space in between.”
Silence settled back in.
“I’ll talk to him. I’ll talk to both.”
And neither of them said anything else.
Kait was up early.
No alarm.
Just… awake.
The kind of wake-up where your body beats your head to it.
She sat on the edge of the bed for a second, elbows on her knees, staring at nothing.
Then she moved.
Put on some white thermals, jeans, boots and grabbed her kutte by the corner.
“Tracy. Do me a huge favor and get the glitter off my kutte.”
“Oh… okay, yeah, yeah,” she said fascinated and grabbed it.
Melanie came over and served her some coffee.
“Morning, Kait.”
Kait looked at her.
“Morning.”
“I’ll get your toast going.”
“Hey, Toast.”
She looked over to the couch and Kriket was watching TV and drinking coffee still looking miserable.
“Hey, Kriket. Hang in there, bud.”
“This fucking sucks.”
Kait nodded and looked back in the kitchen at Melanie. She couldn’t help but thinking that Melanie must have had sex with Lane hundreds of times, and that made her feel something she’d never felt before.
“Here you go,” she said setting her toast in front of her.
“Thanks,” Kait said instead.
She promised herself she wouldn’t think about last night.
That’s not how she operated.
She ate her toast standing up as she waited for Tracy to get done.
She got it done fast.
Kait knew she got the best tweaker for the job.
By the time she stepped out, the sun was already high.
Snake Eyes was quiet.
No phones ringing. No pissed-off cosigners. No skips.
Randy was behind the counter, leaning back in the chair, boots up, staring at nothing.
Kode was at the desk, flipping through paperwork, pen tapping against the page like he needed something to happen.
Kait stepped in.
They both looked up.
Randy gave her a nod.
Kode squinted at her a second.
“Hey, beautiful,” he said.
“Hey.”
“Sup.”
Kait grabbed a file off the counter, flipped it open like she belonged there.
“Anything?”
Randy shook his head.
“Dead day.”
Kode leaned back.
“No skips. No calls. No one screwing up bad enough yet.”
Kait nodded once.
“Give it time.”
She stayed for a bit.
Helped clean up some files. Checked a couple of entries. Asked a few questions.
Not because she needed to.
Because she didn’t want to sit still.
After a while, Randy watched her a little closer.
“Shoulda kept your money”
Kait didn’t look up.
“Too late, Kowman.”
Randy snorted.
“You should come by the ranch more often.”
Kait closed the file.
“You know what, I should.”
“You can still catch up to Don and Lane. They’re up there throwin’ lines.”
She wrinkled her nose.
“Maybe next time.”
But she didn’t stay much longer.
Nothing to do.
And too much in her head.
The lake house looked different.
Louder.
Alive.
A truck was parked out front. Tools laid out. Wood stacked near the porch.
A table and electric saw.
She slowed as she pulled in.
Three guys were already working.
Older man. Mid-fifties maybe. Weathered. Solid.
Two younger ones—his sons. Early twenties. Same build, same hands.
They looked up when she got out.
She didn’t approach like an owner.
Just walked up like she was checking in.
“You Kait?”
The older man wiped his hands on his jeans and stepped forward.
“Yeah.”
He nodded once.
“Vernon said you might come by. I’m Marcos.”
He gestured behind him.
“My boys. Nathan and James.”
They gave her quick nods.
Respectful. Not pushy.
Kait looked past them at the house.
They’d already started.
Blue painters tape on borders, frames, doorknobs, window edges.
“You move fast.”
Marcos shrugged.
“Start early, you get done early.”
“That’s true.”
She stepped up onto the porch, tested the wood with her boot.
Solid.
Better than before.
“You staying on schedule?” she asked.
Marcos nodded.
“We’ll have you moved in in no time.”
Kait looked at him.
Then back at the house.
For a second, it hit.
This was real.
Not just a place.
Something she was building.
She nodded once.
“Good.”
She didn’t hover.
Didn’t bug them.
Stayed a little longer, asked a few things, learned their rhythm.
Then she left.
Sunshine’s place smelled like hairspray and Double Bubble.
She dropped onto the couch as soon as Kait walked in.
“Tell me everything. I hate it how we can’t talk about anything anywhere.”
Kait sat across from her.
For a second, neither of them said anything.
“I think we almost kissed.”
Sunshine covered her face with both hands.
“I knew it. I knew it. I always knew it.”
Her eyes were watering.
“Yeah?”
“In the summer, when you guys were arguing outback. That night he came and got you and threw out the jukebox perv. I knew it.”
“You knew what?”
“Oh my god! That sexual tension between you two!”
“Ugh…”
“So, what happened? Tell me!”
Sunshine grabbed a cushion and screamed into it when she told her.
Kait leaned back slightly.
“You know, it was probably nothing.”
“No, don’t do that. Don’t play it down. He is crazy about you. When you got bitten by the snake, the way he took care of you,” she grabbed a cushion and squeezed it. “The way he looked at you.”
“Don’t tell me that. I can’t handle it.”
Sunshine sighed. “So cute. Have you seen him today?”
“No! And I don’t want to. And that’s another thing. He’s gonna be there tonight,” Kait grabbed some gum from the little pink dispenser and shoved it in her mouth. “Of all nights.”
Then Sunshine’s expression shifted.
“Oh, shit.”
“Yeah…”
“What about Kolton?”
That one hit different.
Kait’s face hardened.
“He’s on a run tonight.”
“Yikes. That just changed your whole mood.”
“He got in my room last night.”
Sunshine sat up.
“What? Like—”
Kait didn’t look at her.
“Yeah… He was high as shit and tried to fuck me.”
“Jesus, Kait.”
“I stopped him and kicked him out.”
THE DIRTY ALLEY - LATER
The Alley was already alive before the doors even officially opened.
Music low but steady.
Lights dim, colored neon warming up the stage.
Girls everywhere.
Costumes half-done, heels scattered, glitter, eyeshadow, hair product—wigs whipping through the air.
Kait moved through it, making sense of things.
Not rushed.
Not nervous.
Just… working.
Clipboard in hand. Names. Order.
She checked the lineup again.
Twelve girls.
Three at a time.
Then a house girl.
Reset.
Repeat.
Spice Girls. Goth. Raggedy Ann. Witch. Cop. Nurse.
Freddy Krueger in fishnets.
Up front, Sunshine had the music going early while she could still control it.
Her Bon Jovi Best Of was already on repeat.
I’ll Be There for You drifted through the space, soft and clean, filling in the gaps before Ernesto took over.
Kait stepped out from the back just enough to see the floor.
Then—
The door opened.
Lane stepped in.
Blaze behind him.
Ram right after.
Kait didn’t move.
For a second, she just froze.
Then she nodded.
Small.
Controlled.
Lane scanned the room once.
Standard.
Habit.
Blaze saw her first.
Grinned.
“Well, damn,” he said as he walked in. “Look who’s running the show.”
Ram followed right behind him, already smiling.
“Place might actually make money tonight.”
Kait huffed a quiet breath through her nose.
“Let’s see if it lives up to the hype.”
Blaze leaned on the counter, looking around.
“It should.”
Ram gave her a quick nod.
“That’s right, it’s your first time.”
“Yep,” she said.
“It’s nothing we can’t handle,” Lane finally said.
Ram was already peeling off, eyes locking onto Peaches across the room like a heat-seeking missile.
Kait watched that and rolled her eyes.
Sunshine moved next.
Cowgirl hat.
Denim.
Boots.
She slid right up to Blaze, hooked his arm like she’d been waiting all day.
“Hey, Kowboy,” she said, already pulling him.
Blaze looked at her from head to toe. He turned to Lane, clasping a hand on his shoulder.
“Be back in a few.”
Lane rolled his eyes.
“Yeah, sure, I got this.”
Blaze didn’t even look back.
That left Lane and Kait.
Kait stepped behind the bar like she always did and only shook her head as she saw them disappear into the private rooms.
She thought it was the perfect opportunity to switch the music. She pressed shuffle on the CD player.
Cheap Trick’s The Flame came on.
Lane settled with one elbow on the counter, eyes on the floor for a second before lifting.
LAne spoke before she could skip the song.
“It will be a lot more hectic than usual, just so you know.”
Kait shrugged.
“We’ll handle it.”
“Yeah… so, I’m thinking of just posting up with Blaze on that corner table.”
He pointed toward the table near the door—full view of the place.
“Okay, I’ll be in the back mostly. Keeping the girls moving.”
He didn’t interrupt.
“So, just so you’re aware… We’ve got twelve girls signed up, we’re running three at a time,” she said, gesturing lightly toward the stage. “Then a house girl resets the room—gives people time to grab more cash, drinks, whatever.”
Lane glanced toward the stage, tracking it.
She kept going.
“Then we rotate again. Same thing. Crowd doesn’t get bored, girls don’t get stuck out there too long. I’m thinking Ram keeps guys from bothering the contestants for private dances—they’re not here for that. I’ll tell him once he’s done with Peaches.”
He nodded.
“What,” she said, catching the look.
“I didn’t—”
“Well, don’t you have a better plan.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
Not loud.
Just there.
“You always have something to say.”
“What you said works just fine.”
She went quiet. Raised a quick eyebrow.
Finally looked at him.
Lane wasn’t watching the stage anymore.
He was watching her.
Lane pointed at the speaker.
“This one of Rokkstar’s too?”
“Huh?”
“The song.”
“Oh, probably, but it’s another one of Sunshine’s NOW compilations.”
He nodded slowly. He watched her as she moved the Halloween black cat decoration to the side.
“How you holding up.”
There it was.
No softness.
No pressure.
Just the question.
Kait held his gaze for a second.
Long enough to mean something.
Then she looked away.
Back to the room.
“Fine.”
Automatic.
Lane didn’t move.
Didn’t push.
Just waited.
That made it worse.
Kait exhaled through her nose.
“I handled it,” she said.
Lane’s jaw tightened just slightly.
“I did too.”
That made her look back at him.
“What do you mean?”
“I put him on notice. He won’t bother you again.”
She scoffed, crossing her arms.
“I didn’t ask you to do that.”
Peaches glanced over from across the room.
“You don’t have to, it’s my job.”
“I took care of it. I don’t need you putting anyone on notice for me, Kount.”
“You’re misunderstanding,” he said. “This isn’t me coming to your rescue. This is me, as the enforcer, stepping in between two members.
Same as I would if Kode and Diablo were going at it.”
“Does Don know?”
“Yes.”
A beat.
“He’ll reach out.”
“Fucking great.”
She shook her head slightly.
“Next time just let it be.”
“That’s not gonna happen. And there better not be a next time.”
That landed.
Reset.
Back to square one.
The wall went back up.
“I’ll check in every couple rounds,” she said, like nothing had happened. “I got the back.”
Lane watched her for half a second longer.
Then nodded.
“Alright.”
That was it.
Conversation over.
On the surface.
Kait stepped around the bar.
Back toward the dressing rooms.
Back into the noise.
The lights.
The chaos.
And somehow, it was easier there.
Roma - truck stop
The Roma truck stop sat under hard white lights and open sky.
Engines idling.
Diesel in the air.
Big rigs lined up like sleeping animals.
Krait bikes parked off to the side—tight, deliberate, nothing flashy.
They weren’t here to be seen.
They were here to wait.
Mack stood near the bikes, arms crossed, eyes on the road cutting in from the highway.
Buster leaned against a picnic table near a busted air pumps.
Diablo paced.
Back and forth.
Back and forth.
Hand dragging through his hair like he needed to rip something out.
“Dude…” he muttered, shaking his head. “He is higher than a motherfucker.”
Mack nodded and they closed up the circle and whispered.
“Fuuuck yeah.”
Diablo let out a short, humorless laugh.
“I’m not even kidding. He was doing a buck ten coming down here like it was nothing.”
Buster shifted his weight.
“He almost clipped that semi back there.”
“He would’ve ate shit,” Diablo shot back. “Fucking skid mark on the road by now.”
Buster frowned.
“I think he already ate shit, see his face?”
Mack nodded.
“He was snorting back at the Texaco.”
“Yeah,” Diablo said. “I saw that.”
He stepped closer.
“He didn’t even try to hide it.”
Silence settled for a second.
Engines humming.
A truck air brake hissed somewhere across the lot.
Mack shifted his jaw.
“I knew he was back on blow,” he said. “Back at Falfurrias. During the fight. Prince don’t move like that.”
Diablo snorted.
“Yeah. That wasn’t adrenaline.”
Mack shook his head once.
“That was all coke.”
Buster glanced toward the building.
Bathroom door.
Still closed.
“He hasn’t eaten either,” Buster said.
Diablo nodded.
“Yeah, no shit. He ain’t never hungry when he’s like this.”
“He’s gonna crash,” Buster added. “Bad.”
“Or worse,” Diablo said.
That one hung.
Mack looked back out at the road.
Flat.
Dark.
Headlights cutting through in long streaks.
“He’s leading this run,” Buster said. “Kount and Don gotta know he’s using again.”
No one answered.
Because they did.
Diablo let out a breath.
“Maybe they want him to fuck up,” he said. “So he gets scared straight.”
“Maybe that’s why his face looks like that too, “ said Buster.
Silence again.
That had already failed before.
THE DIRTY ALLEY
The room was full now.
Loud.
Warm.
Money moving.
The sixth girl stepped off the stage to a mix of cheers and whistles, music rolling straight into the next reset.
Lights shifted.
Bartenders moving faster now.
Cash hitting the bar.
The system was working.
So far it had been Sexy Cop, Baby Spice, Hit-Me-Baby-One-More-Time-Britney, and Jojo as a Black Cat to reset.
Then Freddy Krueger, Nurse, Witch.
Now Sunshine was getting ready to take the stage.
“That cowboy rocked my fucking world earlier, mmm,” Sunshine said in front of the mirror, adjusting her cleavage.
Kait just shook her head, a small laugh slipping out as she checked the list again.
Dulce stepped in.
“I can’t believe you’re not gonna do it after all that.”
Sunshine’s eyes widened.
“Wait, what?”
Dulce stood next to Kait.
“Kait almost entered Amateur Night.”
Sunshine scoffed.
“No way! You didn’t tell me.”
Kait gave her a lazy shrug.
“Thought just crossed my mind…”
She looked at Dulce.
“Briefly… besides, I was gonna make an ass out of myself anyway.”
Sunshine shook her head.
“I don’t think so. You could’ve just stood out there in your underwear and you would’ve made out like a bandit.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Swear to God.”
Sunshine turned around in her minimal denim cowgirl outfit.
“How do I look?”
“Like Blaze might want to rock your world again after you get off that stage.”
“Great!” she said with a grin, giving a little jump before heading out.
Kait moved over, checked her clipboard and went over to the girl with short black hair and fishnets.
“Daphne?”
She smiled.
“Yeah. Hey.”
Lane sat at the corner table near the door.
Best view in the place.
Blaze leaned back in his chair, beer in hand, watching the stage like he was exactly where he wanted to be.
Ram was gone.
No surprise there.
Lane wasn’t watching the stage.
Not really.
He was watching the room.
Doors.
Movement.
Hands.
Blaze glanced at him.
“You ever relax?”
Lane didn’t answer.
Blaze smirked.
“Thought so.”
He nodded toward the stage.
“Sunshine’s up next.”
Lane’s eyes flicked up.
Just once.
As soon as Wanted Dead or Alive kicked in, Sunshine stepped out—boots, denim, cowgirl hat low—moving like the pro she was.
The crowd reacted immediately.
Different energy.
Confident.
Master of her craft.
Blaze watched her, amused.
“She’s so hot.”
Lane didn’t respond right away.
Lane shrugged.
“Seen one, seen ‘em all… so, what’s going on with that.”
Blaze glanced at him.
“With what.”
“You and her.”
Blaze let out a quiet laugh.
“Ain’t no ‘me and her.’”
Lane didn’t look convinced.
Blaze took a sip of his beer.
“There was earlier.”
Lane finally looked at him.
“You know what that was, man. She’s nice, though. She helped us out when Toast was sick.”
Lane nodded slightly.
“Yeah, she did. But you might wanna set her straight. She seems to like you… a lot.”
Blaze glanced sideways at him, smirking.
“Who doesn’t?”
“Shut the fuck up,” Lane said, nudging him.
Blaze laughed.
“Nah, man. I actually talked to Jules the other day. She didn’t yell or hang up on me this time.”
“That’s good.”
“Well… I sent her money. That’s why.”
“It’s a start. You gonna see her and your kid anytime soon?”
Blaze shook his head.
“Nah. Not yet.”
Lane took a sip of his beer.
“Hey,” Blaze said, nodding across the room. “There’s Toast.”
Lane glanced over.
Kait was talking to Ernesto.
Lane glanced over.
Kait was talking to Ernesto.
“Ain’t that some shit?” Blaze said.
“What’s that?”
Blaze gestured loosely around the room.
“All these girls—high heels, see-through dresses, short skirts, no skirts, tits and ass out… and there she is. Jeans, kutte, combat boots, hair down just yelling at Ernie—and she’s still the hottest one here.”
Lane lit a cigarette.
Took a drag—
Choked slightly—
Recovered quick.
Didn’t answer.
Kait started walking toward them.
“Why you yelling at poor Ernie for?” Blaze asked, already laughing.
“Fucking moron. He was about to play the wrong version of the song for the next girl. He was gonna ruin everything. Huge difference between a three and an eleven-minute long song.”
She flagged down a server.
“Vodka.”
Then dropped into the chair next to Lane.
“Speaking of,” she added, “this chick coming up has real fangs.”
“Wait—what?” Blaze straightened, elbows on the table now.
“Yeah. Goth chick. I was talking to her in the back. Real vampire fangs.”
“How, though?”
Kait grabbed a cigarette, lit it.
“Implants. She got them put in by an orthodontist.”
Blaze blinked.
“That’s fucking wild.”
“That’s fucking stupid,” Lane said.
“No way, I gotta see that,” Blaze said, leaning forward.
“She’ll flash them,” Kait said. “Watch.”
“Too bad Kode missed out. He would love to meet her.”
Lane set his bottle down.
“He’s too busy making the club money, unlike some of you.”
Ram grunted.
“I said I was working on it.”
Lane smirked into his bottle.
“Didn’t say it was you.”
Kait chuckled.
“I told her about our Halloween party. Hopefully she shows up.”
Sunshine came off stage and made a beeline straight to their table.
She threw herself into Blaze’s arms, asking what he thought, if he liked it, talking fast, riding the high.
Kait downed her vodka.
Didn’t even try to hide the relief.
Lane stayed quiet.
Watching.
Always watching.
Then—
The lights shifted.
Purple.
A trimmed version of Black No. 1 kicked in. The right version.
The entire room changed.
Then the goth girl stepped out.
And owned it.
The crowd locked in immediately.
Electric.
She wasn’t stripping—
She was performing.
Money started flying before she even took anything off.
The place felt more like a concert than a club.
At least—that’s what everyone else saw.
Lane wasn’t watching the stage.
He was watching Kait.
He’d never seen her like that.
Relaxed.
Letting go.
Enjoying it.
Bobbing her head to the heavier parts of the song.
Hollering when the girl dropped from the pole.
Alive in a way he hadn’t seen before.
And for once—
he couldn’t argue with Blaze.
ROMA TRUCK STOP
Kolton stepped out of the truck stop bathroom, wiping his nose with the back of his hand, eyes wide and sharp.
Diablo, Mack, and Buster were already waiting by the bikes.
“Hey, man,” Diablo started, trying to keep it cool. “We’re just worried, alright? You were pushing it earlier—speeding. We wanna make sure you’re good. If you need—”
Kolton cut him off, his voice sharp.
“Who the fuck’s in charge here? You idiots don’t know shit. I’m perfectly fine.”
Mack raised his hands slightly, trying to de-escalate.
“We’re just saying if you need to hang back—”
“I don’t need shit,” Kolton barked. “I got this. Now shut the hell up. There’s the truck anyway.”
They turned.
Sure enough, the headlights they’d been waiting on appeared down the highway.
Kolton spat on the ground, wiping his mouth.
“No time for this. Mount up.”
Without waiting, he swung his leg over his bike, revving the engine.
Diablo, Mack, and Buster exchanged glances.
“This is fucking bullshit,” Diablo muttered under his breath, but they followed.
The truck rolled past, and just like that, they took off behind it, engines roaring into the night.
The road went quiet once you got far enough out.
No lights.
No traffic.
Just long stretches of black asphalt cutting through brush and nothing else.
Severino stood off a hill, boots planted in the dirt.
Still.
Hands loose at his sides.
Listening.
Engines carried far out here.
You learned that early.
You learned to hear them before you saw them.
Behind him—
Two bikes.
Reyes colors.
Engines off.
Roque and Chido waiting.
No talking or wasted movement for once.
A pickup sat farther back in the dark.
Headlights off.
Something in the bed.
Covered.
Severino didn’t look at it.
Didn’t need to.
He already knew what was back there.
He kept his eyes on the road.
Waiting.
Then—
Faint.
Low.
A vibration before the sound.
He smiled.
“They’re coming.”
No one answered.
Didn’t need to.
The sound built slow.
Engines.
Multiple.
One heavier.
The truck.
Right on time.
Severino stepped forward just enough to get a better angle.
Headlights appeared in the distance.
Small at first.
Then growing.
He watched the formation.
Truck in front.
Bikes trailing.
Tight.
Controlled.
Almost clean.
Almost.
His eyes locked onto the lead rider.
Even from this distance—
He could see the movement.
Sharp, aggressive, reckless.
Severino’s smile widened just slightly.
“It’s the little prince…”
He tilted his head.
Studied it.
Yeah.
That one was off.
That one was easy to break.
He glanced once toward the men behind him.
A small motion.
Enough.
They shifted.
Engines turned over—low, controlled, not yet loud enough to carry.
Timing.
Everything was timing.
Severino stepped back into the dark.
Let the road swallow him.
Let them come closer.
Closer.
Severino’s voice came low.
Calm.
“Wait.”
The engines in the distance grew louder.
Closer now.
Close enough to see shapes.
Close enough to see faces soon.
He watched the lead rider again.
The twitch in the shoulders.
The speed corrections.
The impatience.
Perfect.
Severino exhaled slowly.
Then—
“Now.”
Engines roared to life.
Lights snapped on.
And the road stopped belonging to Krait MC.
the dirty alley
The rhythm broke.
Kait felt it before she could name it.
Out front, Dulce had just taken over to reset the stage for the last wave of girls.
—but backstage?
Wrong.
Kait looked down at the list.
Counted again.
Three.
One. Two. Three.
But there were only two left… plus the vamp girl.
Her brow tightened.
“Where’s—” she started, flipping the page.
One name circled.
Gone.
She turned.
“Hey—where’s Ginger Spice?”
Daphne looked up from the mirror, one eye lined, the other wiped clean.
“She dipped.”
“What?”
“Said she was going out for a smoke,” she shrugged. “But she grabbed all her stuff.”
Kait stared at her.
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope.”
Kait looked back at the list.
Did the math again.
Fast.
Too fast.
They were short.
She looked at Bride of Chucky and Raggedy Ann.
“Staying?”
They both smiled, nodded, and went right back to their makeup.
Kait moved to the window, trying to see out onto the floor.
Dulce’s music hadn’t hit yet, then suddenly her voice came over the speakers.
A playful little throat clear.
“I am happy to announce that thanks to our very generous—and handsome—boys from Houston here front row—”
Dulce started
She got drowned out by a loud cheer from the table up front, already drunk and loving life.
“The first prize has gone from five hundred… to five thousand dollars!”
The girls in the back erupted.
“Holy shit,” Kait said under her breath.
“Why don’t you do it?”
Kait turned.
“Hell no.”
“Yeah,” the goth girl said. “You got the body for it.”
“I have no idea what to do.”
Daphne smirked.
“Ever fucked the shit out of someone?”
Kait raised an eyebrow.
“I’ll explain.”
“This shit’s getting lame,” Lane said.
“This has been the funnest Amateur Night,” Ram shot back, finally sliding into his chair. “That goth girl with the fangs? Orale.”
Blaze chuckled.
“Yeah, that was something.”
Piel Morena kicked in over the speakers, and Dulce stepped out again, showing the rest of them exactly how it was done.
“Should be wrapping up soon, right?” Lane said, taking a drag of his cigarette. “Last group coming up?”
“Pick one guy,” Daphne said. “Just one. Don’t look at anyone else.”
Kait’s eyes flicked up.
“Focus on him. Imagine his hands on you. Dance for him.”
Kait held her gaze.
Thinking.
“Everything else disappears,” Daphne added.
Silence.
Kait nodded once.
Small.
“I don’t know what song.”
Daphne smiled.
“I see you like snakes.”
She moved fast after that.
Grabbed a black outfit off the rack.
Shiny.
Tight.
Vinyl.
“Here. This is perfect for you.”
Kait took it.
Looked at it.
Then back at her.
“Hurry,” Daphne said. “I’ll find you gloves and a mask.”
The reset was ending.
Raggedy Ann was already being queued to the stage.
Kait moved.
No hesitation now.
Five thousand.
For the club.
By the time she was in the vinyl outfit—thigh-high boots, gloves, a masquerade mask—she and Daphne were already moving down the hallway.
They crossed paths with Dulce coming off stage.
Dulce slowed.
Looked her up and down.
“Hey—who are you?”
Kait didn’t answer.
Just kept walking.
At the curtain, Daphne leaned in one last time.
“I’ll give the song to the DJ,” she said. “Remember—one guy.”
Kait exhaled.
“I’m gonna make an ass out of myself.”
“Listen to the song,” Daphne said. “Just look at him.”
Raggedy Ann finished to polite applause.
Not bad.
Not memorable.
The room was ready to move on.
Dulce slid into the table, still riding the high from her set, a drink already in her hand.
“Did you see that front row?” she said. “They’re throwing money like idiots.”
Sunshine grinned.
“Yeah, no shit. Where are these guys on a regular weekend.”
Sunshine leaned back into Blaze, eyes still on him.
Blaze winked at her and took a sip of his beer.
“Last one, right?”
Last asked.
“No, there’s two more.”
Dulce said.
Lane just rolled his eyes.
There was a small after the last girl finished picking up her dollar bills from the stage.
Lane kept watching the room.
Then—
The music cut.
Not a reset.
Not a transition.
Something else.
First, something that sounded like random drops of electronic rain.
Then a sound of machinery.
Wrong.
Labored.
Heavy.
Industrial.
Reptile
Nine Inch Nails
The room shifted.
Confused at first.
Then quiet.
Waiting.
Ram leaned forward.
“Oh my god.”
No announcement.
No name.
Just…
Her.
She stepped onto the stage like she’d always been there.
Slow.
Controlled.
Shiny black thigh-high boots.
Matching gloves.
Black vinyl catching the light.
Corset.
All black.
All reflective.
Her blonde hair down.
Face hidden behind a mask.
She didn’t walk.
She… moved.
Like water.
Like something that didn’t need bones.
Ram blinked once.
“Ay, mamacita.”
No one else talked.
They were all watching.
The movement was wrong in the best way.
Mechanical at first.
Sharp.
Then fluid.
Like a machine learning how to be alive.
“Oh my God. What on Earth…” Ram said again, louder this time.
Sunshine leaned forward.
“Who is that?”
Dulce squinted.
“I don’t know. I saw her in the hallway.”
“We need to hire her, look at the guys, their jaws are on the floor,” Sunshine added, eyes locked on her.
Blaze didn’t comment right away.
Just watched.
“That is… I don’t even know.., Hotdamn.”
The word came out low followed by a long exhale.
On stage, she turned slow.
Rolled her shoulders.
Arched just enough to catch the light.
Then dropped into the pole, gripped, and moved with the beat like it was inside her.
The lyrics hit.
Low.
Dirty.
She has the blood of reptile…
Lane’s cigarette paused halfway to his mouth.
…just underneath her skin.
Something clicked.
Not the outfit.
Not the mask.
The movement.
The control.
Lane’s eyes sharpened.
Then narrowed.
“Lokken.”
Blaze spat out his beer.
“What?”
But Lane was already up.
Chair scraping back.
Fast.
Too fast.
He didn’t explain.
Didn’t look back.
Just cut straight through the room—
a line to the stage.
Ram blinked after him.
“What the hell—”
But no one answered.
They just watched him go.
The noise hit her first.
Louder out here.
Hotter.
Thicker.
But as came out she didn’t look at the crowd.
Didn’t look at anything.
For a split second she almost froze.
Then…
Fuck it.
Her eyes moved and found Lane at the corner table.
Watching.
Always watching.
That was enough.
The music slid in under her skin.
Low. Mechanical. Wrong. Perfect.
She stepped forward.
Slow.
Letting it take her.
Her hand came up first. Tracing her side, testing the rhythm.
Not thinking.
Not planning.
Just feeling it.
The bass pulsed and her body answered.
Shoulders.
Hips.
Controlled.
Then looser.
She didn’t look at anyone else.
Didn’t need to.
There was only one point in the room.
One anchor.
Him.
She moved toward the pole.
Fingers wrapping around it.
Cool metal.
Grounding.
The lyrics rolled through her heavy, dirty, hypnotic.
Then, something in her just…
let go.
Her head tilted back.
Eyes closed.
She moved anyway.
Not guessing.
Not hesitating.
Just following the beat.
Her body shifted with it.
Fluid now, less sharp. More… natural like she’d done this before. Like she knew exactly where to go next.
The world narrowed to only sound, movement…
Him.
That was it.
Then she pulled herself in, turned, and slid down the pole.
Slow.
Controlled.
Eyes still closed.
Breathing deeper now.
Lost in it.
For a second, there was nothing else.
No crowd.
No lights.
No stage.
Just the music and him.
Then… she stopped.
Something changed.
Close.
Too close.
Her eyes opened—
“Get off the stage.”
Kait blinked at him.
“What?”
Lane held his hand out.
“Now.”
No room to argue.
She took it.
The front row erupted immediately—boos, complaints, hands going up, money waving.
Lane didn’t even look at them.
He shoved one guy out of the way with his shoulder and pulled Kait straight off the stage.
Fast.
Too fast.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Kait snapped, trying to keep up in the boots.
Lane didn’t answer.
Just kept moving.
Backstage.
Down the hall.
He pushed open the first private room door and pulled her inside.
Door slammed shut behind them.
“What is wrong with you?” she shot back. “Why am I— Did something happen?”
Lane stepped right into her space.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing up there?”
Kait scoffed.
“What does it look like? I’m making money for the club.”
“Stripping?” he snapped. “Are you out of your mind?”
“It’s five grand.”
He just stared at her.
Pupils blown.
Jaw tight.
“What… The place is packed. There’s a whole row of drunk oil suits out there throwing cash. It could’ve been more than five grand.”
“You’re not getting on that stage looking like—”
Kait narrowed her eyes.
“Like what?”
Kait crossed her arms, shifting her weight.
“Like that,” he said, voice low now. “Let alone taking it all off for some fucking city suits.”
“Why the fuck do you care what I look like or what I do?”
“You’re Krait MC,” he yelled. “You honor that patch.”
“No one knows it’s me,” she fired back. “I got a mask. I covered my ink.”
Lane let out a short, humorless breath.
“Yeah. Great disguise, Lokken. No one knew it was you.”
A beat.
“I recognized you the second you walked out.”
“I don’t understand this shit. We need money.”
“Well, find another way to get it.”
“This is fucking insane,” she snapped. “You’re insane.”
She turned toward the door.
“I’m going back out there before they get even more pissed off.”
She didn’t make it two steps.
Lane caught her arm.
“I said no.”
Kait turned back, staring at him now.
Really looking.
“Are you shitting me right now?”
His grip tightened just enough.
“Are you seriously willing to do that?”
“I will do what I can to help our club, Kount. What the fuck.”
“No. Not this.”
His voice dropped.
Not loud.
Not angry.
Just firm.
“Not you.”
That stopped her.
He let go of her arm.
Silence hit.
Thick.
Kait frowned slightly.
“Why not?”
Lane didn’t answer.
Looked away.
Jaw working.
“Why not, Kount?”
He exhaled slowly.
“Because you’re not like all those whores out there.”
Kait let out a short laugh.
Sharp.
“Oh, really?”
She took her mask off and stepped closer.
“Well, if I remember correctly, you called me a snakehole my first night back.”
Lane sighed looking to the side.
“And a glorified snakehole with a patch that night at the chapel.”
“Shut up, Lokken.”
“What changed?”
Lane looked at her.
Really looked this time.
“I said, shut up.”
“No! Eat shit and answer. Tell me what the fuck changed, Kount?”
“Everything.”
Kait grabbed onto him immediately.
Her balance gone for a second in those boots.
It took her a heartbeat—
then she kissed him back.
Hard.
Real.
Everything they hadn’t said crashing into it.
Then—
The door flew open.
Ram froze in the doorway.
Daphne right behind him.
“Holy—fuck…”
Everything snapped.
Kait pulled back first.
Breathing uneven.
Didn’t look at anyone.
Didn’t say a word.
She just walked out.
Fast.
Gone.
Ram blinked, still processing.
“Shit, man—I’m sorry, I had no idea you guys were—”
“We’re not,” Lane cut him off, already moving toward the door. “Anything.”
Ram raised his hands slightly.
“Fuck, man.”
Lane stopped at the doorway.
“Forget what you saw.”
Lane didn’t wait.
Just walked out.
highway 281
Diablo knew something was wrong before it happened.
Kolton was riding like shit.
Too close to the truck.
Too fast.
Too twitchy.
Diablo pushed up beside him.
Close enough to be seen.
Hand down.
Slow it.
Kolton didn’t even look.
Just twisted the throttle harder.
The bike jumped.
Pulled ahead.
Diablo fell back slightly.
“Fuck…”
He didn’t need words.
He could feel it.
This was going sideways.
Fast.
The road ahead seemed a bit off.
Lights where there shouldn’t be lights.
Still.
Waiting.
Diablo leaned forward, eyes narrowing…
Then…
He saw movement.
Bikes poured out of the dark all at once.
No hesitation.
No warning.
Reyes.
At the same time, the blue Impala rolled in from the side.
Slow and smooth like it had all the time in the world.
It crossed in front of the truck and stopped. Blocking it clean.
The truck hit the brakes.
Hard.
Everything broke.
Diablo snapped his head forward looking for Kolton.
Too late.
He was already gone leaving the truck behind.
Left all of them behind.
“Fuck.”
Mack stayed with the truck.
He had to.
Buster tried to swing out but got cut off immediately.
No space.
No openings.
Just bodies closing in.
Diablo turned back once just enough to see the truck was boxed in.
Surrounded.
Done.
This was a clean hit.
Definitely planned.
There was no panic on their side.
That’s when it clicked.
This wasn’t a fight… it was a setup.
And Kolton made it worse.
Diablo turned forward again.
Tracked him.
Up ahead.
Alone.
Still pushing.
Didn’t even know it was over.
Then, more lights.
Waiting.
Not moving.
The road blocked.
Kolton slowed.
Finally.
But it was too late.
Up ahead, a figure stepped out into the road.
Still.
Calm.
Waiting.
They all recognized him.
the dirty alley
Kait didn’t stop moving.
She pushed through the curtain—
straight into the back—
already pulling at the gloves.
“Hey, you’re up,” she said, not even looking at her.
Bride of Chucky blinked.
“Already?”
“Yeah. Now.”
Kait kept walking.
Didn’t wait for a response.
Didn’t slow down.
The dressing room hit her like noise.
Voices.
Laughter.
Music bleeding through the walls.
She ignored all of it.
Went straight to the vanity where she left her clothes.
Her hands already moving…
Boots first, then gloves.
Gone.
Fast.
Too fast.
Like if she stopped for even a second something would catch up to her.
The door burst open.
Dulce first.
Still flushed.
Still riding the adrenaline.
“Oh my God!”
Sunshine right behind her.
“I can’t believe you did it!”
Kait didn’t look up or slow down .
Didn’t answer.
Just kept moving.
Pulling on her jeans.
Dulce laughed, half in shock.
“I knew it! I fucking knew it!”
“You looked amazing,” Sunshine added immediately.
Kait shoved her boots aside, grabbed her shirt.
Still nothing.
They looked at each other
“You okay?” Sunshine added. “Hey…”
Kait pulled her shirt over her head.
Sharp.
Fast.
Like armor going back on.
Dulce slowed a little.
Watching her now.
“…what happened out there?”
Sunshine tilted her head.
“Yeah—why did Kount pull you off the stage like that?”
No answer.
Kait grabbed her kutte.
Put it on.
Untucked her hair.
“Did he yell at you?” Dulce pressed.
Sunshine frowned slightly.
“Kait, what happened?”
Nothing.
Kait grabbed her keys.
Finally looked up—
just for a second.
Not at them.
Through them.
Then she moved.
Straight for the back door.
“Kait?” Dulce called.
Nothing.
She was already gone.
The Alley noise swallowed her for half a second. Then the outside hit.
Cooler.
Quieter.
Real.
She didn’t slow down.
Didn’t think.
Didn’t stop.
The Kriger sat where she left it.
Waiting.
She swung a leg over.
Engine turned over hard.
Loud.
Alive.
She didn’t look back.
Didn’t check the door.
Didn’t check anything.
She just took off.
Fast.
281 highway
JUST OUTSIDE OF FALFURRIAS
The road went quiet again.
Not the same quiet.
This one sat heavy.
Engines idling.
Heat rising.
The truck stood dead in the middle of it all—doors open, glass cracked, one headlight flickering.
No one moved.
Severino did.
He walked past them without a word.
Slow.
Unbothered.
Like this was routine.
The pickup sat off to the side.
He stopped at the back.
Looked into the bed.
There it was.
A machete.
Plain.
Used.
Nothing special about it except what it was for.
He picked it up.
Tested the weight once.
Turned back toward the truck.
Behind him, Diablo let out a breath.
“Fuck…”
Mack didn’t take his eyes off Kolton.
“Stay where you are.”
Kolton didn’t answer.
Didn’t look at him.
Just stared at the ground, jaw tight.
Buster shifted his weight.
“What the fuck is he doing…”
No one answered.
They already knew.
Severino disappeared inside the truck.
The door creaked once, then shut.
The sounds that followed were low.
Dull.
Wet.
Controlled.
Diablo looked away first.
“Jesus Christ…”
Mack didn’t.
Didn’t blink.
“This is on you,” he said quietly.
Kolton’s head snapped up.
“Fuck you.”
“You broke formation,” Mack said, same tone. “You left the truck.”
“I was clearing the path—”
“You were high,” Diablo cut in. “Out of your fucking mind.”
Kolton stepped forward.
“You don’t know shit.”
Buster flinched as something hit inside the truck.
Hard.
“Shut the fuck up,” Mack snapped. “Both of you.”
Silence again.
Except for that sound.
Then, the door opened.
Severino stepped out.
Calm.
Steady.
Machete in one hand.
The driver’s head in the other.
Blood still running.
Fresh.
Warm.
Buster turned away immediately.
“Jesus Fucking Christ.”
He staggered a step and threw up off to the side.
Diablo stared.
Didn’t say anything this time.
Mack’s jaw locked tighter.
Kolton froze.
Just for a second.
That was enough.
Severino walked past them.
Didn’t look at Buster.
Didn’t look at Diablo.
Didn’t look at Mack.
He stopped in the center of the road.
Lowered the head.
And dragged it.
Slow.
Across the asphalt.
A dark line cutting from one side to the other.
Clean.
Deliberate.
Final.
When he was done, he lifted it again.
Turned.
Now he looked at them.
One by one.
Kolton last.
“You cross this road again,” he said, voice low, even, “you don’t make it back.”
No one spoke.
No one moved.
“This is the last truck that moves through here under my watch.”
A beat.
Severino stepped back.
One of his men opened the pickup.
He tossed the head into the bed.
Picked up the rag.
Wiped the blade.
Then his hand.
Like it was nothing.
“Let them go.”
Just like that.
Engines turned.
Reyes pulled back.
Cleared out.
Left the line.
Left the message.
Severino climbed onto his bike.
Paused just long enough to look at Kolton again.
Then he was gone.
The road stayed quiet.
Buster still coughing.
Diablo staring at the line.
Mack not looking at anyone.
Kolton let a shaky sigh of relief.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
