The Ties That Bind 1

by D. A. Young

  “Enter!”

  The one-word bellow let Ransom know that he was on Prez’s shit list. Big fucking deal. What else was new? He opened the door to find his father staring out the window, his back to him. Ransom tensed because he already knew what or who Slade was looking at.

  “Since when do bitches come before the club? I don’t remember voting on it. Never took you for a pussy-chaser or having a thing for dark meat, son. Heard them bitches can’t get enough of dick and have the stamina of a racehorse in bed. That true?”

  Fury hailed down on Ransom, embedding like needles into his skin. His mind demanded vengeance for the insults hurled against his woman. His first thought was to end Slade where he stood for disrespecting Billy. They both knew Slade had no problem with race whatsoever. Then he remembered who he was talking to. Ransom locked his jaw and remained perfectly still. This was what Slade did best. He found your weakness, got off on it, and used it against you. With his wife, it was her love for him. With Harley, it was his insecurity and hopeless need for his father’s approval. Not that Slade ever came close to giving it. Only thinly veiled insults that devastated Harley, who, in turn, would need an outlet for his frustrations. The lengths that he now took to get them were becoming increasingly dangerous.

  Ransom refused to give Slade the perverse pleasure of taking the bait and responding to his antics. Or of showing him that he gave a damn about anything. It took him only once to make that mistake and learn from it when he was nine years old. He’d caught a desert cottontail in a box trap. Elated with his success, Ransom and Harley named the rabbit Megatron and fashioned a wire cage for it to sleep in. They’d snuck the rabbit into their bedroom and hidden the cage underneath their bunk beds.

  Claudia teased them about their angelic behavior when they started keeping their room clean and going to bed earlier than usual. That put them on Slade’s detector. One day, Ransom and Harley came home from school and everything changed. They raced up the stairs to their bedroom, past their father lounging on the sofa in the living room, drinking a beer. The house was filled with the delicious aroma of their mother’s arroz con pollo in the slow cooker. She’d made it before heading to the auto shop to do the bookkeeping. As soon as Ransom opened their bedroom door and the cloying metallic stench hit him he knew what they would find.

  He stood in the doorway as an excited Harley pushed past him to lift the Ghostbuster comforter from Ransom’s bed. Numbly, he watched his twin stretch out on his stomach and shoved his hands under the bed. With a puzzled frown, he felt around before he shoved his head under the bed to locate Megatron.

  “Nooo!” Harley screamed, jerking his hand out from underneath the bed. From across the room, Ransom could see that it was covered in what looked like scarlet silk. Except, he knew better. His older brother scooted back against the wall, wrapped his arms around his knees, and placed his head on top of them. His pitiful, stifled cries and trembling shoulders made Ransom’s stomach cramp with fury. He approached the bed, dropped to his knees, and peered underneath it.

  Bile rose in his throat and tears stung his eyes at the sight of Megatron laying in a pool of his own blood. His throat had been slit. Ransom closed his wide eyes and carefully placed him back in his cage. He took his shirt off and wiped his bloodied hands on it before pulling the cage out and wrapping the garment around it. Calmly, he took it downstairs, careful to keep his expression devoid of emotion. From his peripheral, he could see that Slade was no longer on the couch. Outside, Ransom heard the familiar sound of his father’s motorcycle roaring to life and down their driveway.

  Coward.

  He passed through the kitchen and out to the back patio with the cage. While Harley stayed upstairs, grieving over Megatron, Ransom profusely apologized to the animal and made his peace with him. Two hours later, their parents returned home. Ignoring his father, Ransom greeted Claudia with a hug and a kiss. Harley came down to do the same. Their mother grew concerned by his pallor and red-rimmed eyes.

  “The boy probably needs to eat, babe! Harley, get your ass to the table!” Slade barked, continuing to watch Ransom. “Fucking sissy. Stop mollycoddling them!”

  “You just need some of my famous chicken in your belly, mijo.” Ignoring her husband’s harsh words, Claudia rubbed Harley’s back and went to put the finishing touches on dinner.

  “I’ll help you, Ma,” Ransom volunteered and Slade sneered at him.

  “That’s fucking women’s work! Are you trying to be a woman? You ain’t a faggot are you, boy?”

  “Shut up, Slade! Don’t talk to my boy like that! Ven aqui, Ransom!” Claudia shot her husband a dirty look as they departed.

  During dinner, Slade was disgruntled that he couldn’t get a rise out of him. His anger was that of a petulant child throwing a fit. With every jeer he made, Ransom’s anger dissipated while Harley became increasingly sullen and withdrawn.

  Father and son were locked in a silent showdown, and the tension was palpable. Ransom savored each bite of his food, knowing Ma wouldn’t excuse them from the table until everyone was done, Slade included. Their father may run one of the most well-established and feared motorcycle clubs in the Southwest, but Claudia ran their house with an iron fist. He took his time and waited patiently.

  Soon.

  “I don’t know anything about that,” Ransom said impassively. “I was on my way back from Albuquerque. She was having car trouble not too far from here. I helped her out. End of story.”

  “What the fuck was so goddamn important that you missed church?” Slade turned around to see if his son would lie to him. He knew everything that went on within the club, especially at the compound.

  Their eyes met. Slade could see nothing in Ransom’s blank eyes. That was the biggest giveaway. The lack of disdain and amused mockery he usually saw when they came into contact. Oh, he knew that his son didn’t care for him. But that’s what Slade respected about Ransom. You always knew where you stood with him. Unlike Harley who was a disappointment from the moment he’d been born.

  Blue and struggling to breathe, the boy had needed help straight out of Claudia’s pussy. Slade knew in that instance, Harley was a weakling. That his firstborn, deemed his successor by Immortal Law, would always need help. Over the years, he’d done his best to try to toughen Harley up, but the boy just didn’t have what it took to be a leader. He’d spent his entire life seeking Slade’s approval. His efforts for validation only spurred his father’s contempt.

  But Ransom was a different animal altogether. The mighty cry that filled the delivery room upon his arrival into the world brought tears of pride to Slade’s eyes. If he could have, in that moment, he would have decreed Ransom as his rightful heir. A mere seven minutes in time would be the Immortals downfall when Slade moved on to the next life. And that would be a goddamn travesty. At the age of twenty-two, Ransom possessed all the qualities of a great leader. Men twice his age respected his opinion, and as an enforcer, he was vastly respected and widely feared.

  However, he had one weakness.

  Harley.

  He was too invested in pampering and shielding his brother. Ransom needed to stop acting like a little bitch and put his feelings aside. Step out of the shadows and challenge Harley for his rightful place as heir apparent to the Immortal throne. Slade knew all about the broad in Harley’s room. He also knew Ransom had taken charge of the mess. Those two were like fucking night and day.

  “There was a situation that needed handling. I smoothed it over and saw it through so there’d be no blowback for us.” Ransom knew that Slade was aware of Harley’s fuck up, but he wouldn’t be the one to give sell his brother out. “Club first. Isn’t that what you always say?”

  “Now’s not the time to get slick with me, son,” Slade warned, pointing a finger at him. “Did I miss something? Who the fuck died and made you Prez? You think you got what it takes to call the shots? That you can do this better than me?!”

  Ransom crossed his arms over his chest. “Do you? All my life, y
ou’ve preached, “Club comes first”. Today, I did just that. She wasn’t like the free pussy this place is overflowing with. She was trouble, Prez. I diffused it. We’re good.”

  “This bitch got a name? You shoulda just bagged her.” Slade sat down on the corner of his desk and pulled out his pack of smokes.

  “Harley called her Janet.” Ransom wasn’t going to give him more than that. His father wouldn’t think twice about finding Angela and killing her, just so he could show Ransom why he was Prez.

  “I guess it’s a good thing you handled it then,” Slade’s mocking expression belied his words. “Only you’ve still got a few loose ends that need tying up. Can I trust you to handle it correctly?”

  “Consider it done,” Ransom assured him tonelessly.

  Slade smiled approvingly to himself and lit his cigarette. He knew that Ransom would keep his word and dole out his personal brand of justice when the time was right.

  No one knew that better than him…

  The little shit, Slade fumed, tuning out Harley’s crying. Ransom was as cool as a cucumber. No reaction whatsoever about Bugs Bunny. When Claudia made the comment about them constantly going to bed early, he thought the kids might be upstairs doing twink shit. After they left for school, he went snooping around and found the bunny. Slade was impressed that they’d managed to catch the creature and keep it hidden until he tried to take it out of the cage and it bit him. Obviously, that called for a lesson. For both the bunny and brats. One: Don’t bite the hand that feeds you. And two: What’s kept in the dark will always come to light.

  Frustration building, Slade was so busy shoveling his food down his throat and chasing it down with beer that he hardly tasted it. He hated to admit it, but the little prick was getting under his skin and pissing him off. He only smiled when Slade insulted him. Maybe he should stop? The only person it was pissing off was Claudia, and since he planned on getting some pussy from her tonight, it was probably best if he let shit go.

  Suddenly, Claudia jumped up from the table with a scream, pointing toward him. “Dios, Slade! What the hell is that?!”

  Confused, Slade followed the direction of her finger and pushed away from the table. “Son of a bitch!”

  Harley moved in cautiously while Ransom remained seated, quietly eating his dinner. There was no point in getting up when he knew what they were looking at.

  “Are those eyeballs? Where did they come from?” Claudia’s voice quivered with horror. She opened her arms as Harley rushed into them, seeking comfort.

  Slade was too busy looking at the bottom of his plate to answer. He recognized those eyes. Had watched the life drain from them. A closer look at his plate and he now realized the “chicken” wasn’t poultry at all. Slade’s eyes rose to meet Ransom’s frigid, condemning stare at the other end of the table. A chill overcame him as he comprehended what his son had done. Ransom sat patiently, waiting for Slade’s next move. There wasn’t a scared bone in his body. The kid truly did not fear him, and Slade had no idea how to process that knowledge. He just knew that it made him respect Ransom even more.

  “Would you shut that little bastard up?!” he shouted at Claudia, grabbing his beer bottle and plate. He stopped next to Ransom, who refused to acknowledge him and continued to eat without a care in the world.

  “Touché, kid.”

  That was the last time Ransom had shown his father anything of importance to him. Until today. Slade had seen him hand over his piece to the black girl. His fucking gun of all things! There was something going on there, and Slade couldn’t have that. He had plans for Ransom. There was no room for errors or distractions. Black Beauty would have to go. On her own or with a little help from him.

  “Anything else, Prez?”

  Slade inhaled the nicotine, savoring it, before slowly releasing it into a steady stream of smoky rings. “You’ll find what you’re looking for out back. Now get your ass outta here.”

  For the first time, Ransom noticed the gauze band wrapped around his father’s right arm from below the elbow to the wrist. “What happened to you?”

  “Your mother happened!” Slade jeered and Ransom stilled. “She thought I was hounding for pussy and threw a pan of grease at me this morning. I’m gettin’ real tired of her insecure ass.”

  “When I left Ma this morning, she was just fine. Am I going to find her in the same condition when I see her later?” Ransom’s stance shifted from relaxed to high alert. He was conflicted in what he hoped Slade’s answer would be. He hoped that Claudia wasn’t hurt, but he wanted a reason to beat his prez’s ass, not just for disrespecting his Ma, but Billy too.

  “Calm your shit, son. Your precious mother is fine. Batshit crazy as hell, but I didn’t lay a hand on her,” was the surly answer he received. “I postponed church until tomorrow. I expect your ass to be there. Same time. We got important shit to discuss. Got it?”

  “Understood.”

  “You get everything squared away with Ransom?” Blaze entered Slade’s office without knocking and dropped into the empty chair in the corner by the window.

  “Yeah. Kid’s got a good head on his shoulders, ya know?” Slade put his cigarette out. “He’s good at what he does. Has his priorities in order. Wish the same could be said for his brother.”

  “The same could be said about you, too,” Blaze retorted sharply.

  “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

  Blaze refused to be intimidated by the deadly softness accompanying the question. “Exactly what I said. Stop running Harley into the ground in front of everyone, respect your marriage, and make Ransom your successor. You got a good family. Quit trying to drive them away.”

  He pointed at Slade’s injury. “You’re lucky that’s not a bullet in your skull. Respect and loyalty go hand-in-hand and to get it, you need to earn it. You wanna cheat? Do it on the road, not your own backyard. Claudia’s gotta hold her head up and live here, too. You know the boys don’t take kindly to their mama being mistreated.”

  “You done busting my balls?” Slade snarled, refusing to acknowledge there might be some truth to his VP’s advice.

  Blaze chuckled, and reluctantly, Slade joined in. They’d been best friends since they were fucking toddlers, and the conversation between the two of them had always been able to flow freely. When someone got outta line, the other was there to straighten them out. More often than not, it was Blaze, rather than Slade, doing the straightening.

  “I’m done with that. I want to know what you think about Pitch. Something’s not right with him. I got a bad feeling about it.”

  “Then, for now, we keep tabs on him and sit tight. I’m not down to kill anybody else without concrete evidence.” Slade’s mouth twisted bitterly. “Better to keep your enemies in plain sight than lurking in the dark.”

  After leaving the office, Ransom went to the customer service booth. Marnie Gomez, Shakes’ older cousin was there. She was his mother’s assistant and currently directing Digger, who was changing the office lights. The little shit blanched when he saw Ransom standing there.

  “Hey, Ransom. What can I do for you?”

  Grudgingly, he gave the prospect credit for meeting and holding his gaze. Ransom fished Billy’s car key out of his pocket and handed it to him. “Twenty-five miles outside of town, there’s a stranded gold Lexus. I want you to grab one of the boys and take the tow truck to go get it and bring it back here. I know exactly what condition the car is in and what’s in it. For your sake, you do not want to fuck with me on this, Digger.”

  The prospect gulped audibly at the ominous warning and took the keys from Ransom. “I’m on it. Listen, sir, about this morning—”

  “Get the fuck out of my face, Digger.”

  Marnie sauntered forward, laughing as the prospect took off. Her jeans were so tight, Ransom was pretty sure her pussy was dying of suffocation. “Now, I wonder what you did to have Digger ready to piss his pants in your presence.”

  Ransom shrugged his shoulders carelessly. “He
ll, if I know. I need a favor, Marnie.”

  “Don’t be tryin’ to get me in trouble with your Mama, hon.” She pursed her over-glossed, dark pink lips and smoothed her hand over her signature black beehive. “Last thing I want is static with the woman who signs my paychecks.”

  Her heavily mascaraed eyes fluttered coquettishly. “No matter how good-looking the person doing the asking is.”

  “Always the sweet talker, Marnie.” Treating her to a roguish grin, Ransom leaned over the counter and she did the same. “The car that’s coming in? Let the boys know to keep it in my space in the garage, not out back. It’s my project. I don’t want anyone else involved.”

  “What’s in it for me?” Marnie cooed, tapping her long, white talons on the black countertop. Her light blue eyes sparkled suggestively, and Ransom wasn’t surprised by her flirtations. Ever since she’d broken up with her fiancé two months ago, her hot ass was sniffing around him whenever Claudia or Shakes weren’t in the vicinity.

  “What are you looking for?”

  She was pushing thirty to his twenty-two but didn’t look a day over twenty-five and resembled Snow White on steroids with tits, hips, and ass for weeks, and all of it was real. Growing up, Harley and Ransom didn’t need Playboy and Hustler to jerk-off to. Marnie was enough. She’d grown up in the club, just like them, and gave them a permanent state of blue balls in her skimpy attire. Not that she would have noticed the twins back then. She’d always treated them as pesky little brothers.

  “Double-trouble, Ransom. You, me, and Harley.” She licked her lips provocatively and ran a fingernail over the swells of cleavage revealed in her purple tank top, drawing his eyes to the tattoo of her name with a rose wrapped around it on her left tit. “Can you imagine how hot that would be? I’m creaming in my panties just thinking about it.”

  If Marnie had made a proposition like that twenty-four hours ago, Ransom might have considered it. A kinky night with the star of his boyhood fantasies? It didn’t seem like too much of a burden to bear. But now, the idea held no appeal to him. Ransom wouldn’t wish Harley on anyone, and the only female he wanted in his bed was Billy.