GANG RELATED [SWEET PEA] [✔️]

EIGHTEEN || SUGAR SKULLS

"We know who was leading the group of Calaveras who were chasing Dixie the night she died. It's up to us to go avenge her." Wolfgang said to the group of Serpents gathered around the fire pit, the flames dancing on their faces looking ominous.

"Are you sure?" Jughead asked. "We can't risk any more damage than we need."

"Positive." Wolf said, looking oddly calm. "But it has to be a small team. Two people. He'll be alone."

"Alright," Fallon said, "Wolf, you and Dray are gonna go. Dray's one of our best bruisers, and you know Cresthaven better than most."

Wolfgang nodded his head solemnly, Dray grinning at the compliment. "Thanks, VP."

"Yeah. Where do these Calaveras hang out?" She asked, and Wolf crossed his arms.

"At a bar called La Cantina Coyote. We're looking for a son of a bitch known as Ray Ortiz, aka The Butcher. He's one of the Calaveras' most brutal hitmen, a real ugly motherfucker."

"Sounds like someone's got some bad blood." Sweet Pea chuckled darkly, and Wolf's eyes shifted to Fallon's fiancé.

Unflinchingly, Wolf raised the hem of his black shirt to reveal a thick, jagged line of scar tissue stretching from just under the right side of his ribs to his left hip bone.

"Damn." Fangs murmured, everyone clearly shocked by the wound.

"I want the son of a bitch dead. Yeah, I have a personal beef with him, but now he's brought it to my club." Wolf growled, and Fallon nodded silently along with Jughead.

"Get it done. Godspeed." Jughead said, and the meeting was over.

___

Dray and Wolfgang stashed their bikes and jackets in a parking lot a block away from the bar, although Dray doubted the Calaveras would see them as friendlies.

"Get your knife out. Guns if we have to." Wolfgang said darkly, and Dray's stomach roiled with tension. He always had a bit of nervousness in his gut before hits, which usually meant that it would go one of two ways.

Before he could overthink it, Wolf was moving, swift and silent.

The back of the bar came into view, and Dray suddenly felt small next to Wolfgang, who'd drawn himself up to his full height.

Three men stood outside the Cantina, and their hackles raised instantly upon seeing the two Serpents.

"Well, well, well, the fuck you two gringos doin' over here huh?" One sneered, his tattooed arms marked with skulls and roses.

A low growl came from Wolf's throat. "Mind your own business....ese."

"Wait wait wait wait wait," A tall, leering man drawled, his voice carrying a thick accent. "I know this motherfucker."

"Ortiz." Wolf said icily, and the man narrowed his eyes. "Ah, Graves! I thought I fuckin merked you, man. Looks like I need to finish the job, huh?"

Without warning, one of the Calaveras' fists came flying at Dray's face. He barely ducked the punch, and returned one of his own, catching his assailant in the gut. The man doubled over with a groan, but before Dray could react further, a white-hot pain split across his right side, and he dropped, gasping as he realized a different biker had struck him with either a crowbar or a tire iron.

"Fuck!" He gasped, blindly striking out at his attackers. He managed to land a few punches, diving on top of the Calavera known as Romero. He dimly saw Wolf land a crushing blow to the side of Ortiz's face, the bloodied gangster dropping to the ground.

Before Dray could even gasp, Wolf pulled a gun from his jacket and absolutely unloaded into Ortiz's body, the shots muffled by the silencer that Wolf had put on his Glock.

Wolf let out a breath as the other two Calaveras ran off into the night, the air eerily quiet, save for the trickle of blood as it ran across the pavement.