Jailbait (Southern Rebels MC Book 1)

by Kristin Coley

  Her head thumped against the seat. “Yeah, but at least I didn’t lose my bike and my girl in the same day.”

  “There is that,” I glanced over at her. “That’s what I like about you, Jailbait.” She lifted an eyebrow at me. “You see the good, or the positive, in everything. I don’t know anyone else who would handle everything that’s happened as well as you have.”

  She smiled. “You,” she said simply. “You would have, you have,” she corrected herself. “Everybody has shit they have to deal with. All we can control is how we react to it.”

  “I like that,” I muttered as I pulled into the parking lot of the club. I heard Clutch jump out and gave Jailbait a quick, apologetic smile. She waved me off.

  “Go, deal with him. I’m going inside.”

  I hopped out, grabbing Clutch before he could disappear.

  He shook me off with a growl. “You don’t have to say it. I’m not going after the fucking rat. Okay?”

  What I planned to say died in the face of his agonized expression. I released his arm, stepping back. “I’m sorry, Chance. What she did was wrong.” Maybe it was my use of his real name instead of his nickname or the sincerity I said it with, but he didn’t storm off. “I wish I could make this right for you.”

  He shook his head, swallowing hard. “Nah, it had to happen eventually.” He glanced to the side. “I’m glad you were there,” his nose twitched as he inhaled, “You stop me from doing something I might have regretted.”

  “I don’t think anyone would regret wiping the floor with that douche,” I responded and he nodded. “Let’s get your bike unloaded.”

  Clutch exhaled, closing his eyes for a second. “I don’t know if I’m ready to deal with that on top of this,” he muttered.

  “Man, I can get Crew or one of the guys to help,” I suggested and he shook his head.

  “No, let’s get it over with.” He popped the tailgate and we hauled the bike out. A low whistle pierced the silence and we turned to see Johnny walk up.

  “Do I want to know?” He asked, studying the mangled remains of Clutch’s pride and joy.

  “No,” I answered definitively. “You don’t.”

  “Good,” he declared, glancing at me. “We need to talk.”

  “Four words you never want to hear,” I sighed, leaning against the tailgate. “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s not wrong,” he stalled as Clutch held up his bike watching us. “I just wanted to let you know that Crew went on a run this afternoon.”

  “He….he what?” I asked, standing to my full height as I glared at Johnny. “Is that why you came out here to talk? Cause you knew I’d be pissed.”

  “I was short on guys,” he answered, drawing himself up, but it wasn’t enough to make up the three inch difference in height between us. “You and Clutch were gone, and Hank said he was doing something for you. Crew said he could use the money.”

  “That isn’t the point,” I snapped. “You know how I feel about Crew working for the club, you know how Dad felt about it. Eighteen, Johnny. He doesn’t need to be doing this shit. It’s dangerous.”

  Johnny spread his hands. “It’s just a small run for Monty.”

  “Monty? Are you fucking with me right now? You put him square in the crosshairs of the Aces on his first run?”

  “You and Clutch didn’t have any issues and Monty called us good if we did this for him. I couldn’t pass it up, Creed,” Johnny answered quickly. “I don’t want us owing any favors especially not with the Aces sniffing around Monty’s crew.” I continued to glare and he kicked the dirt, shaking his head at my obstinateness. “I had to do what’s best for the club, Creed. You should understand that.”

  “What I understand is that you put my little brother at risk without a second’s thought,” I snarled, my lip curling.

  Johnny got in my face with those words. “That’s a damn lie and you know it.” He poked me in the chest hard enough I swayed. “I’ve always tried to do right by you boys. You’re like sons to me and I’ve always tried to protect you.”

  “You should have waited,” I answered him, my jaw locking. “You should have waited until I got back and you know it.” I shoved him out of my way, striding to my bike as he yelled my name.

  “Creed! Creed, where are you going? Boy, you better answer me.” Johnny’s chest heaved as he shouted, and Clutch’s gaze bounced between us.

  I didn’t pause as I slung my leg over the seat. “I’m going to get my damn brother,” I yelled, starting the bike with a rumble. I peeled out of the parking lot, gravel flying as Johnny stared after me.

  I roared through town, blowing through red lights and stop signs, ignoring the flashing blue and red lights that followed me to the outskirts of town before abandoning the chase. I knew I’d have to answer for it later but it wasn’t like every cop on the force didn’t know my bike.

  I hit the highway, anxiety crawling through me as I sped toward Monty’s territory. He’d mentioned his plans for another run to me and I hoped I remembered it correctly. My gut was telling me to get to my brother, to watch his six before something happened that couldn’t be fixed.

  ***

  I cruised the streets on the edge of Monty’s territory, an area he’d told me had been hit hard by the Aces lately. I was looking for any sign of my brother or Monty’s guys. I’d tried Crew’s phone a few times but he hadn’t picked up, not unexpected since we rarely carried our phones on a run.

  Something caught my eye in a warehouse parking lot and I circled back around. I rolled the bike in, not sure if I was dealing with friend or foe, and not wanting to announce my presence. I parked the bike and eased forward.

  A guy was hunched over someone on the ground, but it was the familiar sight of the jacket that had me stepping forward. Gravel crunched under my feet, causing the guy’s head to jerk up.

  “Stay back,” he shouted, pointing a gun toward me. “Don’t come any closer.”

  “Crew,” I called, recognizing my brother. “It’s me.”

  “Creed?” His voice cracked and my heart dropped. Whatever had happened was bad. My gaze strayed to the person on the ground and I steeled myself. “Creed,” he repeated as he hunched there, looking young and afraid, and I cursed myself for not getting there sooner. “It’s my fault,” he cried, his voice thick with snot. “I didn’t know.”

  “It’s okay,” I told him, gravel crunching under my heavy boots. “Whatever it is, we’ll fix it.”

  He looked up, his eyes rimmed in red as he shook his head. “You can’t fix this, Creed.” I braced myself for his next words as he said, “He’s dead, Creed. Deacon’s dead.”

  I forced myself not to react, to shove my own emotions aside as I dealt with the mess that was currently my brother.

  I kneeled next to the body, recognizing the jacket as Deacon’s but his face was busted beyond recognition. Anger surged through me at the realization that he’d been beaten to death.

  “What happened?” I asked gently, knowing Crew needed to talk through whatever had happened. He shook his head, too choked up to respond, and I clasped his shoulder, squeezing lightly. “It’s okay, Crew. You can tell me and we’ll make this right, okay?”

  His gaze met mine, eyes burning, as he asked, “You promise?”

  “I swear it on Dad’s grave,” I answered, holding his stare. “We will get justice for Deacon.”

  His head bobbed, eyes closing as he glanced down at Deacon again. “It was fine. Just an easy run for Monty. Johnny didn’t want me to go but there was no one else there. I begged him,” he paused, shaking his head. “I wanted the money so I could pay you back.” I bit back an instinctive response, knowing it wasn’t the time. “He finally agreed when Deacon said he’d watch out for me.” His gaze pleaded with me for understanding. “I thought it would be easy. It’s just a protection run. You’ve done it a million times.” I nodded, seeing how it would look to him. It should have been simple, but as I glanced around I knew something had gone very wrong. “We m
ade the run. We were leaving when some Aces showed up.” My chest swelled as rage built. “They followed us. Deacon motioned for me to split away so he could draw them off.” Bitter regret poisoned his words and I shook his shoulder, forcing him to look at me.

  “He did what any of us would do in that situation. It’s a classic move,” I told him, knowing he was blaming himself for separating from Deacon. “I’ve pulled that maneuver with Clutch a thousand times.”

  His eyes told me it didn’t matter and I knew he’d hold on to this guilt for a long time. He shoved his palms against his eyes, pressing hard before he continued. “We were supposed to meet at a gas station if we got separated,” he said, his voice intentionally flat. “But Deacon didn’t show.”

  “You went looking for him,” I concluded and he nodded. “This is how you found him.” He nodded again. “You’re sure the Aces did this?”

  I hated to think Monty’s guys could have done it, but there was a lot of tension between our clubs because of Deacon’s color. We’d never had an issue before, but there was always a first time.

  Crew shook his head, pointing behind me. I glanced over my shoulder to see the Aces emblem spray painted on the wall along with a swastika and the words, “Nigger die.”

  “Fucking,” I choked off the rest of what I wanted to say, resting my hand on Deacon’s chest, as the need for vengeance built inside me. “They will pay,” I promised him. “Every. Single. One. Of. Them.”

  “It’s my fault,” Crew whispered, guilt laying heavily on him. “If I’d realized sooner. Gotten here.”

  “They would have killed you too,” I said harshly, shoving him back. “I would have found you lying on the ground here with Deacon.” My fist clenched at how close it had come to exactly that, and I forced back a surge of gratitude that it was Deacon and not Crew lying there. I hated myself for it, but I couldn’t change the emotion. “Do not feel guilty for surviving, Crew. He would not have wanted you to die trying to save him.”

  “But how do I live knowing I let him die?”

  “You are not responsible for his death,” I stated clearly, feeling a momentary sense of déjà vu. It was hard for me to believe I’d said almost the exact same thing to Jailbait that morning. “You didn’t know. You couldn’t have known.”

  He shook his head, clearly not ready to hear my words. I stood up, forcing him to his feet. “Go home,” I told him and he lashed out, shoving me away.

  “No. You don’t tell me what to do. You’re not Cord,” he yelled, anger and grief warring inside him as he took it out on the only person there. “You can’t fix this. You can’t send me home like some little kid this time, Creed.”

  I struggled with the instinctive desire to demand he obey, to do as I said for his own good. “I’m trying to protect you,” I ground out, needing him to see what I was trying to do.

  “You can’t protect me, Creed,” he said tiredly, his eyes older than his seventeen years as he gestured to Deacon. “I’m here. I did this. Don’t make me walk away and pretend I’m not a part of this.”

  Something in my chest clenched as I recognized what he was trying to tell me. He had to accept responsibility for his part in what happened. He needed to do this. “I didn’t want this for you,” I admitted, dropping my hands to my knees as I acknowledged the truth. “I thought maybe you’d take after Cord and go into the military.”

  “I know that now,” Crew replied, coming to stand next to me, head bowed. “And I think part of me always knew you were protecting me….giving me an out if I wanted it.” He swallowed, his hand hovering before settling on my back. “But I didn’t want it, Creed. I wanted to be like my big brother.” I glanced up at him, moisture gathering in my eyes as he said, “I wanted to wear the jacket.”

  He crashed into me and I locked my arms around him, feeling his wiry muscle though Dad’s old jacket as he clung to me. “You’re stronger than I gave you credit for,” I whispered to him.

  “I still need you,” he muttered against me and I pulled him back so I could look him in the eye.

  “I need you too, little brother. Don’t forget that.”

  He shook his head, his gaze steady on mine. I knocked the side of his head, rubbing my knuckles in. “Alright, enough of the brotherly love. You can stay.”

  “Thanks, Creed.”

  “Don’t thank me yet,” I muttered. “It’s gonna get worse before it gets better.” I pulled out my phone. “Where’s your phone?”

  “My bag,” he answered instantly, pointing to his bike. “I turned it off.”

  “Go turn it on and move your bike over to mine.” He nodded eagerly and raced to do what I asked. I lifted the phone, punching the numbers in automatically since I made sure to never save his information in case my phone was confiscated. “Noah, we got a problem.” I rattled off the address at his acknowledgement and hung up.

  The next call was harder and I prayed he wouldn’t pick up, but there was only one ring before he barked, “Creed, what happened?”

  The words were bitter in my throat, “Deacon’s dead, Johnny.” I heard a thump, then silence on the line before he asked.

  “Crew?”

  “He’s alive,” I answered, my breath gusting out of me. “He’s not okay, but he’s alive.”

  “I’ll take it,” Johnny replied, then cleared his throat. “You were right, Creed.”

  “Don’t matter,” I told him, staring at the wall where the Aces had sealed their fates, rage crystallizing inside of me. “We have other concerns now.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Sloan

  Commotion outside my room woke me up and I climbed out of the bed, crossing my arms over my chest as I peeked out the door. A couple of the girls stood in the hall, black eyeliner smudged around their eyes as they whispered together. The way they huddled together suggested whatever had happened was bad. I stepped out of my room and Weasel intercepted me.

  “You should go back to bed, Jailbait,” he said, for once not twitching or shifting restlessly as he looked at me. “Creed isn’t here.”

  The sound of several bikes roaring to life clued me in on what had woken me up. I glanced up and down the hall, noticing the absence of the men. “Tell me what’s going on,” I commanded, not budging. “Where’s Creed?”

  “He went to get Crew,” Weasel informed me, grief etched on his face as I sucked in a sharp breath.

  “What happened?” I demanded, pushing into his space. “What happened to Crew?”

  Weasel shook his head. “Not Crew. Deacon.”

  I backed up, shaking my head as his face told me what he hadn’t said. “No,” I whispered, my thoughts flashing to his wide smile and the ease he’d stopped Fat Willy’s fist. “He can’t be….”

  Weasel nodded. “He’s gone.”

  I nodded faintly, unable to process one more loss on top of everything else that had happened that day. I stepped back, reaching blindly for the door as I went back into my room. I stood there for a moment, not sure what to do with myself.

  I wandered my room aimlessly, stopping when I came to the picture of my dad and me that Micah had given me. I picked it up, sitting on the edge of the bed as I studied the photo. Club life revolved around family, it was one of the things I loved most about being part of the Rebels, and when faced with death we needed each other more than ever. I set the picture down, determined to do something for my new family. I threw on the first clothes I found, scraping my hair back in a ponytail as I blew out of my room.

  Weasel hopped up from where he’d been leaning against the wall, a direct line of sight to my room. “Where are you going?” He asked, scurrying after me.

  I turned, gesturing to the girls who stood there looking lost. “We’re going to bring our family together,” I informed him, snapping my fingers at the girls to make them move. “We’ve lost,” I had to pause for a second, “Deacon’s death hurts all of us. We need to come together.”

  “Okay,” he said uncertainly. “Tell me what you need.”


  “Bring whoever is here to the kitchen,” I ordered as I headed that way. “All of them,” I tossed over my shoulder as he broke away.

  I entered the kitchen and then froze, feeling overwhelmed by the enormity of what I was trying to do. Why should they listen to me? Who was I to tell them what they should do? What was I trying to do exactly?

  The door creaked open behind me and the two girls I’d seen in the hall shuffled in, staring at me expectantly. I cleared my throat, suddenly feeling lost, but then one of them asked, “What can we do?”

  “Grab some vegetables from the freezer and get a stockpot,” I answered, the words coming from somewhere deep inside of me, the echo of a memory, a lesson from my mom. “We’re going to cook. The guys will be hungry.”

  I pushed myself forward, pretending I knew what I was doing as more women filed in, and gave them directions. It wasn’t long before the kitchen was filled with quiet chatter and the comforting scent of onion.

  “You’re doing a good thing,” Candy told me quietly and I glanced at her in surprise. “We need you.”

  “Thank you,” I answered automatically, her words bolstering my confidence.

  “But your hair is a mess,” she added, yanking my head around. “Hold still.”

  “Candy, I don’t know if now is the time….” I trailed off as some of the girls who didn’t have anything to do gathered around, watching as Candy worked her magic. “You know, I think now is the perfect time. Maybe you can do some of the other girls hair too?”

  She leaned forward until our eyes met. “I think that’s a great idea.”

  “I talked to Ronnie,” I told her, crossing my fingers as I hoped Ronnie was still going to uphold her end of the bargain. “She’s willing to let you work there for a two week trial period.”

  She squealed, wrapping her arms around me from behind and pressing her huge balloon breasts against my back. “That’s so awesome.”