by M. Kristine
I pick up my beer, “Not a word Princess.” Taking my beer with me I head to church. These dicks are here for a reason and it's time to find out just what that reason is.
Chapter Two
Senna
God, that man infuriates me and turns me on at the same time. As he walks into church, I can’t help but check him out in those jeans that show off his fine ass. He’s the epitome of sexy, shaggy hair, tight trimmed beard, body covered in tattoos and eyes that make my panties instantly wet. Looking into his eyes reminds me of the sky when a storm is rolling in- gray and turbulent. Luca is good at hiding his emotions, except from me. I have known this man my entire life and I know how he looks when feeling every emotion, it’s all in his eyes.
When the chapel doors shut, the chicas swarm the bar wanting to get a few drinks in before the guys finish church. The chicas are the club whores and are here to service the single guys, and a few of the married ones. Its none of my business what the brothers do, but it pisses me off when some of the guys with old ladies fuck around with the whores.
Right now, we have four resident chicas, Callie, Josey, Kimmie and Mal. The club gives the girls a place to live and they help keep the club running smoothly in addition to keeping the men satisfied. Callie and Mal are great and I enjoy their company. Kimmie and Josey are cunts and I can’t stand to be in the same room with them. They are a couple of nasty backstabbing bitches who bully Callie and Mal. They know not to pull that shit in front of Saylor or me. We will kick their ass if they even start on them. We may be the club princesses, but our daddy and uncles taught us to fight and we can kick some serious ass!
I get the girls their drinks and move back to finish cleaning up the bar for when church lets out. Saylor and I are running the bar tonight. We are at the clubhouse so much that no one blinks seeing us behind the bar. We have been slinging drinks since we could reach the bar.
Our momma has taught us a lot over the years about all aspects of the club life. Her and daddy have pushed us to chase our dreams and we are doing just that. In a few weeks, Saylor and I are headed back to the University of Texas, San Antonio to start our third year of college. Me for business management and Saylor for art and design.
We are total opposites in every way. I look just like our momma- curly red hair and bright green eyes. Petite and curvy. Saylor is daddy’s twin- taller and thin with jet black hair and baby blue eyes. Where Say looks like daddy, I act like him. I’m snarly and bitchy and don’t take shit from anyone. Saylor is passive and peaceful like momma.
I finish washing the glasses placing them back on the bar when Saylor comes walking out from the back hallway. The clubhouse is exactly what you imagine an MC clubhouse would be. The building is two-stories. The main level has a large open space where the bar is located, there are tables and chairs scattered around the left side of the bar with couches to the right. We have a couple of pool tables and a dart board for the guys. Behind the bar is the industrial-sized kitchen with two refrigerators and three stoves with dual ovens. We have almost forty members, that’s a lot of people to feed. Many of the brothers live at the clubhouse where about a handful have old ladies and live off-site. There are a few bedrooms downstairs for the newer members. The rooms upstairs are for the officers and older members. Say and I share a room when we stay at the clubhouse. Most nights, we head home and sleep in our own beds.
“Hey, Sis.” Saylor sidles up beside me bumping my hip with hers. I take a minute to look her over. She’s dressed in her typical clubhouse attire- tight black leather pants, tight Aces of Spades MC tank and sky-high heels. She’s the girly girl, where I’m happy in jean shorts and a plain tank.
“Hey,” I reply, as she grabs a soda out of the fridge. We aren’t planning on staying at the club tonight, so no drinking for us. Last thing we need is to get pulled over for DUI.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Josey snarls at Saylor from across the bar. Saylor might be girly, but she can throw down.
“None of your business, bitch,” Saylor growls in reply. ‘Why don’t you go suck a dick, since that’s all you’re good at.”
Callie and Mal chuckle and Josie glares at them. The girls quickly look down, as if they’re ashamed that they got caught laughing. I mean it’s true, the only time I like Josey is when she has a dick in her mouth. The quiet is nice.
“Don’t start your shit Josey. Just drink a few and wait for the brothers. I’m sure they will need your services after church,” I say as I lock eyes with her. I’m hoping the bleach she uses on her hair hasn’t soaked into her head causing brain damage and she gets my drift. A look of understanding crosses her face as she grabs her drink walking over to the couch where Kimmie has planted her skinny ass.
“Forget her and if she gives you shit, let me know,” I tell Callie and Mal. They nod and I go back to preparing for the guys. Minus the one I’m never prepared for. Since we have a visiting club, the whores and hang-arounds, who will be rolling in shortly, will be all over the brothers looking for a good time. I groan inwardly knowing it’s going to be a shitty night for me. Another night of torture.
Chapter Three
Viper
The whole time in church all I could think of was Senna and how I wanted it to be her in my bed earlier. Also, how tonight I have to watch pain flood her stunning green eyes. I have to have the club girls all over me as much as I can't stand to be near them and their fake ass perfume and bleach blonde hair, dressed like strippers gone wrong after a seven-day-long strip convention. For appearances I have to because loving Senna from afar compared to loving her publicly is a whole different game.
The sister chapter is in for the ride to keep this gun deal. I have a nasty feeling about it. Tonight, though, I have to blow up two meth labs on the outskirts of San Antonio. That shit always kills the demons.
Slinking back into the leather couch, in the far-right hand pocket of the club house, I watch the drunken antics begin. Folding my leg up on my knee I tap my free hand on my boot while the other raises my glass to the bar where I feel Senna’s eyes burning into me like fire.
She walks over. I smell her before I see her winking as she hands me my glass. It's straight Jameson with a wedge of lime, she knows me well and honestly that scares me.
“Oh, my god, don't wink at me, Luca.” I watch as her thighs clench at the effect just me winking has on her.
“Oh, Sen, you know I can't help but tease.” This time I wiggle my brows up at her.
“You’re not allowed to do that.” Her hand falls to her hip.
Rolling my tongue inside the rim of my glass, sucking back the lime-laced whiskey I respond, “I will, I did, and I can.” I wink again knowing damn well I shouldn’t play with her but it’s, well… shit, it’s fucking fun. My eyes fall to her pouty lips with a sudden fleeting immoral moment. I lean forward as she leans down to collect the empties on the tabletop.
My stormy gray meets her moss green eyes, “Oh if only things were different Sen.” Courage is flowing inside my veins and Luca’s talking not Viper the snake of death. Just a boy in love with a girl.
She pulls back suddenly as tears mixed with fire fill in her beautiful eyes, “Oh yeah, if they were and you weren’t scared to take what’s yours.” Her icy words sent chills through me. “Don't play with me Luca. I can’t take much more.”
Running my hands through my hair, shocked at the fire in her “When the hell did you grow up, Princess?” I ask her.
She turns to walk away from me, gets two steps and she stops as Josey falls down beside me. The death glare she gives Senna fucks me off instantly. “Have some respect, yeah?” I bite out to the club slut.
“The day you stopped looking further than the whore on your dick.” The venom she fires hurts, I won't lie. She's always been mine, well secretly anyway. Everywhere I went, she followed and everywhere she went, I followed.
“Hey don't. Don't do that,” I call feeling small and well, fucked off.
“I’ll just get hurt in the end, won't I?” The
arctic ice in her tone has me speechless.
“What's she on about, baby?” Josey’s high-pitched, fake as fuck voice hits me, pissing me off.
“Fuck off, Josey.” Downing my drink, I slam it on the table, smashing it into tiny shards. Josey squeals as my brothers look up and over towards me.
“Cleanup on aisle 6,” I bite out to her big green eyes boring into mine.
She pokes her tongue at me as I swipe Josey’s hand from the inside of my thigh; storming off through the club doors and out into the cool air. Pulling a smoke from my pocket I light it hastily, needing to calm down. I take a long drag on it, blowing the smoke out, watching it dance on the inky black air around me.
Flame walks toward me from the sheds wiping his hands down the thighs of his jeans. “What's got you so worked up, brother?” He picks my smoke from my mouth and takes a drag from it.
“Oh, flag that, no need to answer. It’s Senna, isn't it?” Snapping my eyes to his, taking back my smoke, I slide down the wall pulling my knees up to my chest.
“Fuck, Bro. NO!” I bite out he slides down and joins me instead, taking my smoke back off me that I was enjoying. Sharing really isn't in me but I offer him my pack.
“You read my mind like I do yours, Brother. I know you’re hot for her. Have been since forever and she’s the same for you.”
Rolling my lighter around in between my fingers I look out over the carpark of the compound and thought about how much I fought to be here, to be the Viper. Gain my patch and the Enforcer rank.
“It’s a lot to lose, you know,” I push out taking the last few drags of my smoke and flicking my butt to the dirt below, watching as embers flick up and go out on the wind.
“What, ya dick or ya patch?” Flame slaps my chest smirking at me
“That's not even funny,” I bite out, my tone cold.
“It kinda is. The Prez will fucking cut the patch from you and your skin, then her twin will cut ya dick off if you touch her sister.”
I watch him smile into the dark, his white teeth lighting up the dark space around him. All I wanna do is smack him in his goddamn face, crunching bones will calm me down. My brother’s not really a good idea so I do the next best thing.
Pulling myself up to my feet, “Wanna blow shit up, Flame?” I question walking toward the shed.
“Fuck yes, Brother. You know it,” his voice excited. He's a goddamn fire bug that one.
It’s been a while since I’ve been on a good killing spree.” My mind runs over the last time I took a life and fucked shit up. It would have been a run eight months ago when shit went south, and we had to take out a rival chapter that thought they could roll into the motel complex we were at and kill us. Fuck, please, you forget who we are motherfuckers. We have informants everywhere. Pulling the black leather gloves over my fingers and curling them over the steering wheel of the black van, I look to the back at Flame, turning so I can see just what the hell this fire bug has pulled out of…
“Fuck, Brother, tonight is just a small job, aye.” Gesturing toward him and the three open duffle bags. Hell, I seen him load one into the van.
“Yeah, Bro, I know.” There’s a gleam in his eyes as a sick and twisted grin wraps over his lips.
“Then why the fuck do you have like ten pounds of explosives, wires, gadgets and god knows what else?” I ask raising my brow at him.
“I want to be prepared,” his tone light. Shaking my head pulling my gun from the seat next to me. Checking how many bullets are in the chamber.
Cracking the door and jumping out into the dark night. The cool air is welcoming to my heated skin. The prickles of hair over my body rippling to attention, making me hyper-aware of my surroundings and the task at hand. Blow up their meth lab, which is a trailer located to the left of the house behind the double shed. That will go up with the trailer as well as the back windows of the house. Shoot up the front of the house sending a message, drugs are not welcome in this town. You go through the Ace of Spades for fucking anything. We own this town.
Flame was mumbling in the back about some shit he forgot as I pulled the door open for him. His eyes burned into mine. I knew that look meant he was mad. Mad at himself, about to take it out on someone or something. Mad at the fuckers that he has come to blow up. Just plain pissed off.
“Screw it,” he said as he zipped his duffle bag jumping from the back of the truck slinging the bag that is at least twenty pounds over his shoulder.
“Let's go blow shit up and call it a day. Ok, brother?”
I lay and wait, watching as my brother does his magic. Watching him set the bomb was the easy part, keeping his cover intact was more challenging. These guys were on watch. Man, we had crawled through a back, muddy field to reach the back of the property.
Staying hidden while Flame worked with calculated precision, the right wires to the right place in a color coding only he understood, using a trigger he had designed himself, his signature. Everyone around knew that this was a special type of assassin, passionate and fucking clever. We heard the talk on the streets surrounding the jobs and explosions Flame has done. Knowing it's him when the cops and forensics teams can't even scratch the surface of figuring out just who is behind them all.
Flame leaves his mark in the way of one less drug lab fucking our streets up with the added bonus of a Your Welcome burned into the grass, dirt, wood, concrete, whatever, whenever, wherever. I watched him with intent as he sat back and pulled his phone out to take a picture. It was art, and as always, he wanted to remember it whole and pretty. His words, not mine. I would have said dark and full of karma but hey, it’s Flame and I like my Harley whole. Not in a million burnt pieces all over the compound.
Then he slid the phone back into the zipper pocket on the inside of his cut and armed it to explode on his command. Then he left, using his remote to loop the camera feeds for twenty seconds each time he passed one, also his own design, he like to re-watch each blow. These guys are fucked. It's like porn to him. Army crawling our way through the side of the property to the front of the house and standing, his eyes looked at mine as he wiggled his eyebrows
“Ready, Brother?” I asked him.
“Does this boner tell you otherwise.” Grabbing his hard dick and jiggling it, I scoffed.
“Fuck me,” I bit out as I turned my eyes to the house.
“5,4,3,2 and 1 fuck yeah motherfucker,” his voice screamed out and echoed back out over the dark night as lights in dark rooms lit up and doors were flung open.
Voices called out; one minute there was a meth lab at the back of the house and the next, a rising ball of blackened orange-red flame was baking the startled air. The windows shook so violently that when we opened fire it was a welcome relief to the stained glass and it just splintered around the walls as guys flew from different directions. We just turned to them and opened fire on the house, cars, and bikes. It pained me to shoot a good bike, flinching with each bullet. Two minutes of straight shooting; empty, reload, empty, reload. Pulling my fresh clip from the waistband of my jeans as we ran back toward the van. Jumping in and wiping sweat from our brows, smiles rolled over our blackened faces.
“Well done, brother,” patting Flame on the back as he threw his ten-pound lighter bag into the back.
Driving back to the clubhouse all I could think of was Senna. How much I wanted to fuck the pain away from doing what I do. It haunts me, you know. Killing. Flame, he gets high on this shit. I do it because I have to. It’s expected. It’s what was bred into me and it's what I have become.
Loyalty, honor and respect.
Kill, clean-up, fix.
Move on.
The demons though, they are as real as the eyes that fuck with my nighttime hours.
Chapter Four
Senna
It’s been a week since I’ve seen Luca. He has been off doing shit for the club and I have been staying away to preserve my sanity. Last week, when I was working the bar at the club, we had a moment that shouldn’t have happened.
It left me wanting something I will never have, him.
Luca knows that I love him, but he refuses to do anything about it. He has been telling me since I was sixteen that we can’t be anything more than we are. He’s my protector and will be until the end, but we can’t be together. I mean, I get it. My dad would kill him. He has made it clear to all the guys in the club that Saylor and I are off limits. My uncles, aka the original members of the club, have also made it known what will happen if any of the brothers touch us.
Personally, I think its bullshit! I mean we are twenty-years old and able to make up our own minds on who we want. I’ve always wanted Luca and always will. No man will ever measure up to him. I have no desire to date. Don’t get me wrong, I have had many guys ask me out. I’m short, curvy and have fire-engine red hair. The guys seem to swarm to Saylor and me. But they all pale in comparison to my Luca. Every guy who talks to me I compare to him, and they are pussies compared to my sexy alpha male.
It’s Saturday and I’m sticking close to home. One of the prospects, Dex, is tending bar at the club so I get the night off and plan to enjoy it with my two favorite girls, Saylor and Lane. Dad is at the club doing business and mom’s home hanging with us girls.
Mom’s inside making us some dinner while the rest of us girls are out by the pool catching some rays. Lane and I are fair-complected while Saylor is darker, like our dad. So, when I get in the sun, I have to use sunscreen, or I’ll burn and look like a lobster. Doesn’t really match the red hair.
“Why aren’t you at the club tonight?” Lane asks turning toward me from her chair next to me on the patio.
“No need to be. Dex is tending the bar. Besides, you know why I don’t want to be there,” I reply. Lane is a few years older than Saylor and I and has been our best friend since we can remember. Being the daughters of the club president and VP, we didn’t have a normal childhood, thus no friends from school. We have had each other and always will.