The Light Beneath the Dark: Motorcycle Club MM romance (Dark River Stone Collective Book 1)

by JP Sayle

  A shudder ran through my body and my dick remained flush against my cargo shorts, aroused and unhappy that I’d stopped. I thought you weren’t going to think about it?

  “I’m not,” I muttered as I raised my head and looked myself in the eye. I’d crossed a line, and I’d never done that before, no matter how tempted I might have been in the past.

  It wasn’t going to happen again, no matter what Linc said. Really, you believe that?

  It couldn’t, for both our sakes. The stakes were too high, and the price could be his freedom and River. I was coming to realize that I didn’t want to jeopardize either. Then why did that leave a hollow feeling in my chest?

  Chapter Eleven

  Lincoln

  The sound of heavy footfalls came pounding up the stairs, drowning out the buzz of the tattoo gun, followed by Sid bursting into the room. “I’m done with the brothers, you have to come to the club and deal with them,” he declared angrily.

  The buzz of the gun stopped as I lifted it off the guy lying face down on the bench I used for back tattooing and gave Sid my full attention. His face was flushed with temper and I could all but see steam coming out of his ears. “There’s little I can do about it, as you know damn well I can’t set foot in the club right now,” I spat out, my own temper starting to boil as he glared at me.

  Sid’s scowl marred his brow and nearly the whole top of his shaven head. His tattooed skull seemed to move, making the serpent tattoo come to life. His face had grease smears on it, as did his hands and clothes, showing he’d come straight from the workshop. “I’ve had enough of the fucking nitwits, and the pair ain’t listening to me. This business is gonna cost us if they keep goin’,” he snarled, seemingly unaware the guy on the bench could hear the conversation.

  “I can’t talk about this now,” I said, pointedly looking at the tattoo gun I held and then the guy on the bench, who’d turned his head so he could watch the interaction, as well as listen.

  It was the one thing about Sid that pissed me off, he couldn’t seem to keep his mouth shut when he was in a foul temper. Mercifully, he didn’t lose it often which was why he’d remained my second in command for so long. It did tell me that whatever the brothers had done this time, it must be bad to get Sid to leave the shop and come across town. My stomach dropped and I wanted to curse, the heavy weight attached to my ankle reminding me that I was prevented from dealing with business.

  “Fine, I’ll be back at closin’ if I haven’t beaten the shit out of the pair of ‘em.” With that, he stomped out of the room the same way he’d come in a few moments earlier.

  I didn’t need him to explain that he was talking about Beau and Ram. The brothers were a fucking nuisance who didn’t feel any brotherly love toward each other, and they’d get into it without the slightest provocation.

  When they had a joint goal, they managed to keep a lid on their hate for each other. However, that hadn’t lasted long when they’d started working in the auto shop. Sid was forever stepping between them and it had been happening more and more recently. Thing was, they were skilled autos who knew their way around most engines. What the fuck was I to do with the pair of them? They’d been members of the club for about seven years. Maybe I should threaten to kick their asses out of the Dark Angels? They’d worked hard to prove their loyalty to me and to their brothers, it just seemed whatever beef they had with each other always overflowed into the shop.

  I rubbed my jaw and sighed, setting aside the problem when the guy on the bench started to fidget, drawing my attention back to him. I eyed the half-completed phoenix I’d hand designed coming out of a pile of ash at the base of his back. The outline had been completed on the dude’s first visit, then I’d done the ashes across his lower back. They seemed to billow as if caught on the wind, giving a 3D effect.

  This was the dude’s third appointment, and he’d need another two for me to complete the artwork.

  “You good for me to start again?” I asked before laying my gun against his skin.

  “Yeah, I’m all good.”

  Back tattoos could be tricky, especially over more bony areas that could be more painful. I usually did the tricky parts first, so that it got it out of the way once the outline had been completed.

  My hair was tied back so it wouldn’t get in the way as I bent back over the bench and got back to work, visualising the design and colors as I delicately inked the colorful feathers. By the time the alarm I’d set myself went off to say the dude’s time was up, my lower back was aching like a bitch and my fingers were slightly cramping. Those two feelings were signs I’d gotten lost in my work and, as I focused on what I’d done, a small smile tugged at my lips.

  Excitement buzzed through me as I pictured the completed tattoo. “I think your gonna piss your pants when you see this.”

  “Your rep, and the six months I waited, I’ll hope for more than pissing my pants,” the dude replied as I cleaned his skin and dressed his back. “You will be able to finish it, right? I’ve heard word you got into a bit of trouble.”

  He didn’t look at me as he carried on talking, and my eyes narrowed. “I’ll finish it,” I ground out, keeping the questions about what he’d heard to myself.

  The silence between us became tense as the dude quickly got up and slipped on his T-shirt.

  “Sorry, it’s none of my business,” he muttered, not meeting my eye.

  “Fuckin’ right, there,” I snarled, then took a deep breath to calm the anger that had fuck all to do with the dude who only wanted to know he’d get his tattoo completed before they tried to throw my ass in jail. “It’s cool, I’ve you booked in for the next two weeks, that should see you done. Check with Nutty before you leave.”

  He nodded, his face looking a little paler than when he’d come in. “Right, ok, I’ll see you next week.” With that, he all but ran out the door and I could hear his feet moving rapidly down the stairs.

  I twisted my head from side to side and front to back, hoping to release the tight knots across my upper shoulders. When it did little, I gave up and cleaned up my work station and bench, before shifting it to the other side of the room and moving my tattoo chair back into position for the next customer who was getting a half sleeve tattoo on their left arm.

  Checking the time I had left, I went to grab a drink, looking to occupy myself so I’d not have any time to think about the shitstorm that was my life right now.

  There was the sound of low voices coming from behind Kyle’s closed door as I passed, but there was not his usual electric music. Since his return from his trip home, he’d been moody and quiet, two things he wasn’t normally. Nutty hadn’t been able to weasel out any information from him, which in itself left me worrying something was up. I tended to let Nutty deal with the drama, only this time, I had a feeling it was going to have to be me.

  As if I didn’t have enough on my plate.

  I groaned under my breath as I entered the tiny kitchen and went to the fridge to grab a can of Mountain Dew, switching my thoughts to the one man who was filling my head more than I liked. Mason’s absence had been notable since I’d kissed him, and I wasn’t sure yet if that was a good or a bad thing. Good surely, ‘cause he can’t mess with your head?

  Which head?

  I took a deep swallow from the now open can, to get rid of the dryness in my mouth at recalling the aching arousal he’d left me with. It hadn’t abated as I’d stood watching him move from group to group, avoiding me for most of the time I’d stayed at his parents’ home.

  Surprisingly, I’d ended up staying for the whole afternoon. Any misgivings I’d had that the folks would run a mile from me and River had been proven wrong. Yeah, there had been a couple of raised eyebrows, but with Mr. Davenport and his whole family being real hospitable, others had followed their example. They’d included me and River as if we’d been long-time friends.

  Truthfully, it had weirded me out a little. River, on the other hand, had been in her element. With Declan following her e
verywhere, she’d gone from shy to full-on chatterbox. The memory of her sitting next to Mason while he’d opened the gift she’d made for him, floated to the surface of my mind.

  “Dids ya open up my gift Mason?” River’s voice carried to me as I stood nursing the one beer I’d allow myself when I was driving. I’d stood in the shade of the porch, feeling a little uncomfortable after the ribbing I’d gotten for wearing Hudson’s T-shirt, that was a little too tight.

  Mason’s expression turned sheepish and he shook his head. “I was waiting to do it with you.” River didn’t notice the obvious lie, but I did. Mason glanced up and caught me staring at him. The T-shirt he wore had been pulled up to cover the mark I’d made on his neck, and for a second, I wanted to go and pull the material away so everyone could see he was mine.

  Get a fucking grip!

  “I’ll go grab it, gimme a sec.” Mason bounded up the back-porch steps and disappeared into the house behind me. River came toward me, her arms open for me to lift her up. I placed her onto my hip and nuzzled her neck, making her laugh.

  “Poppy, ya’s tickling me with ya whiskers.” Her giggles increased as I kept going.

  At the sound of the porch door slamming shut, River moved her head back.

  “Mason, save me from Poppy’s whiskers,” she cried, her arms reaching for Mason.

  My heart skipped a beat when Mason didn’t hesitate and whisked my little girl out of my arms, stating in a stage whisper, “I’ll save you from the whiskery monster.”

  Her laughter continued as she clung to his neck, her eyes alight with joy as she looked back at me and rested her head on Mason’s shoulder. Fuck! Look at them.

  My fingers tightened on the beer bottle as Mason kissed her head without a thought and gave me a wide grin that I felt all the way down to my toes. Not quite convinced I wasn’t looking as dopey as Mason, I made sure to keep the smile off my face.

  There was a flash of disappointment on Mason’s face, but it was quickly masked as he sat on the porch step, placing the small box he held on the floor before he settled River in his lap. Then he picked the box back up, making cooing noises over the childish wrapping. He carefully removed the tape to reveal the box she’d decorated with gemstones, glitter, and other sparkly bits she loved to collect and use.

  The lid had his name written in glitter pen, though given I could actually read it, I was pretty sure Nutty had helped out with that part. River looked expectantly at Mason as he stared at the box, his eyes misting with tears.

  The second he looked at River, I saw real emotion in the depths of his eyes. “It’s beautiful, and I have several special keepsakes I’m gonna put in it when I go home. I’m going to put this in a special place so folks can see it when they come to my home.”

  River beamed at him, then at me. “Dat’s nice, and just like my Poppy. He puts all my presents wheres folks can see em.”

  I blamed the afternoon Texas sun for the flush of heat that rose up my face when Mason grinned at me.

  The wild beating of my heart against my ribs pulled me up short, and I took a deep swig from the chilled drink I held. Think about something else, anything.

  My mind cast about for something, anything, that would distract me from the weird emotions coursing through me as I recalled the tender moment.

  I ran a hand over the top of my head, dislodging the band holding my hair back, reminding me of Nola’s attempt to run her hands through my hair. A shudder of disgust ran through me.

  The bitch had been ramping things up with her lies, which were getting more and more outrageous with each telling. It seemed she wanted to cause a spectacle, that was for sure. If that wasn’t bad enough, she’d attempted to become a prospect at the club while I was blocked by the judge from the place. The stupid fucker had petitioned those in the inner circle that cast votes.

  Sid and Davey had alerted me, but the four other members that made up the seven man vote with mine, Ricky, Stevie, Ned, and Doddie, hadn’t thought to mention it. I’d been messaging them, but the lack of response, though not uncommon in the older members, was still odd after I’d been incarcerated.

  I leaned back against the counter and stared unseeingly at the wall in front of me covered with River’s artwork. Was someone trying to set me up? The feeling in my gut said something was wrong. And it was increasing daily with Mason sending me messages, complaining about the stonewalling the members were doing. In particular, he’d mentioned Ricky, Stevie, and Ned, the old timers that had been a part of the club for as far back as I could remember. They’d all been loyal to Swifty. Had they been working behind my back to oust me and take over Dark Angels?

  The club and the businesses were all connected. That meant income generated from my two businesses supported the clubhouse and members who needed extra cash. I’d brought the club into the twenty-first century with the new building and working on removing the criminal element that had been an established part of club life.

  My Granddaddy had used the auto shop as a chop shop for stolen parts, taking high-end stolen cars and breaking them down for parts and selling them on. Back in his day, it had been easier than it was today with all the new technology for tracking cars and car parts. There’d been the side-line in stolen electronics, too, and a few other things that the guys could get their hands on.

  Again, River had changed the way I viewed things, and although I’d had some battles, the profits from both the legit auto shop and River’s Tattoo more than made up for lost income.

  “Linc, your next customer is here,” Nutty shouted from the bottom of the stairs.

  I threw the now empty bottle into the bin as I passed it, and headed back to my room, pushing aside the worry for now. There’d be plenty of time for that later, when Sid came back.

  I swallowed a sigh, concentrating on clearing my head for my next client.

  Chapter Twelve

  Mason

  I sat opposite Ned and jotted down what he said, not that he offered up much. “So, you left at one am and Nola was still in the clubhouse.” I’d come back for a third time to see if I could gain any more insight into what had happened between Nola and Linc. I wasn’t satisfied with what I’d found so far, and the court date had already been set for the following month.

  Nola’s lawyer was applying a lot of pressure to get things moving and, with the sheriff’s office more than willing to go along with it, I was starting to feel the strain with so little evidence to support Linc’s testimony that nothing had happened. There had been evidence that Nola had endured rough sex that night, but there’d been no DNA found in the swabs that had been taken, so, at the moment, it was his word against hers.

  “Yep. I told you that about ten fuckin’ times, how many more times do you need me to say it?” he spat out, his face wearing a scowl as his cheeks flushed. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he looked anywhere but at me.

  The air conditioning in the clubhouse whirred in the background and made me suspicious as to why Ned was sweating like a pig about to be spit roasted. My eyes narrowed on him, and I continued to push at him when something felt off. “Who was present in the clubhouse that night? Can you run me through everyone who was here?”

  He rolled his bloodshot eyes that spoke to how much he liked to drink, as did the stale smell of liquor coming off him as he continued to sweat in the cool room. As he recited the list of names, something struck me that I’d previously missed. I waited till he was finished before asking, “Wasn’t Nutty here?” I wasn’t sure why I’d not noticed her absence before. Had she been with River?

  “Nah, Nutty had a date with a guy from your neck of the woods, a bloke from Killeen. We’re not good enough for Miss High ‘n’ Mighty,” he ground out, his eyes going mean.

  I struggled to keep my face blank at the thought of this guy with someone as nice as Nutty. I couldn’t place Ned’s age, but he looked like he’d around been around the block a few times. His sparse hair, jowly jaw, and beer gut that hung over the jeans he wore weren’t something
that said, ‘pick me as a partner.’

  “So Nutty wasn’t looking after River that night?” The second I asked the question, something akin to fear passed over Ned’s face before he could mask it.

  “Who knows where River was. Killer could ‘ave left her with anyone.” The way he said it made it sound like Linc left River with any random person, as if he didn’t care about who looked after her.

  A spark of temper sizzled to life at the obvious lie, and I had to work to keep my expression neutral.

  Why would Ned act like that when he’d been a member of the club for decades and knew Linc better than some? The question lingered as I swallowed the bitterness gathering in my throat. Was I missing something? If so, what was it?

  I finished off pretty soon after, letting Ned amble off to the busy bar tucked into the far corner of the massive room. The first time I’d driven out to the clubhouse I’d been surprised by the sheer size and expanse of the building. The place looked like a luxury cabin rather than a biker clubhouse. Inside there were polished wood walls and floors that were well maintained. There were black, leather sofas scattered about the main room, and dark grey rugs on the floor. There was a massive fireplace and above it the club logo was handcrafted into the wood.

  The bar in the far corner was made of the same wood as the cabin and blended with the room. The several times I’d been there, there was always someone manning it for the men and few women scattered about the room. Men and women alike wore a patch showing evidence of their allegiance to the club. The ones with no patch, I’d been informed, were prospects looking to become a member. It seemed that had been Nola’s intention, only she hadn’t wanted to go through the same process as others to prove she was worth a patch. Not that Sid had explained what that entailed as he’d walked me through the building.