“Just open the gate and I won’t say shit . . . uh, what’s your name?”
“Pony Boy,” He replies.
“Alright, you gonna let me in Pony Boy, or do I need to tell Rancid?”
Instead of answering me he walks right up to the gate, pulls through the chain that’s holding everything together and opens it enough to where I can get through. The Spanish Moss trees do a good job at hiding the location of the club, but all the locals know who lives here. I hear the distinctive sound of the gate screeching as Pony Boy returns it to its rightful place and walk forward on the old dirt road.
It doesn’t take me long to get up to the clubhouse but it does feel pretty damn miserable. No matter what time of year it is the humidity is so high there’s a layer of muskiness added on top of your skin. The only thing going for me is the fact the sun is starting to go down, so the temperature will at least lower over the next few hours.
As I get closer to the club I see countless Harleys, Yamahas, and a couple Ducatis. I’m a woman who pays an extreme amount of detail to surroundings and can spot Murder’s bike. He’s the Prez of the Charleston, West Virginia charter. I can’t believe he rode out this far, but then again, the man hates to fly so it makes a bit of sense. I’m pretty sure I spot Demon’s bike next to his. He’s the Prez of the Savannah, Georgia charter.
I see bike after bike and realize they aren’t the only Prezs at the clubhouse, which makes my nerves skyrocket even higher than what they were before. Fuck, even Capone is here from Los Angeles.
Holy shit. What am I walking into? In a sense I suppose it doesn’t matter because regardless I have to walk through those double doors and face whatever is on the other side.
I spot Murder sitting outside on the swing smoking a cigarette. I see him push his sunglasses down as he spots me. “How in the fuck are you wearin’ a leather jacket in this heat?”
“It wasn’t this hot back in Maryland,” I point out, strutting up the few creaky stairs that lead up to the porch. Murder has been one of the few guys who have been decent to me since Rancid introduced me to the Royal Bastards.
“Of course it wasn’t. It’s March, ain’t it still winter?” He extends his cigarette to me and while I don’t smoke, nothing will stop me from taking the edge off right now.
“Sure is. Thanks,” I murmur while I inhale the menthol, trying to ease my worries. I hand the cigarette back over to him, getting an odd look. He’s never been the type of man who allows his poker face to falter, but dammit if he isn’t right now.
“Gamble, I gotta tell you. I don’t think any of us know what’s gonna go down in there.” His voice comes out in a hushed whisper. For a second I wonder if he’s baiting me, but that isn’t in his nature. Murder is one of the good ones, despite his road name.
“Tell me what you can, please.” I murmur keeping my voice just as low. I take the opportunity to grab the cigarette again and smoke it. If anyone is watching me, they’ll just assume I’m borrowing a bit of his cig.
“Dog is in there, tied up to a chair. I came in and he was maybe ten seconds from death. Rancid had me keep him alive until you got here. Have a feelin’ some sorta show is about to go down.”
I search through his dark chocolate eyes trying to make sense of what he’s saying when it all clicks. “He’s going to put him down like the animal he is . . .” Why would Rancid bring me here? Does he think I have something to do with what Dog has been doing under his nose?
“You been associated with that group who’s been tryin’ to take Rancid down?” Murder raises his eyebrow while he asks.
I shake my head, “No, of course not.”
“Alright, well we’d best get our asses in there before Rancid asks why we’ve taken so long. I like you, hun. Never viewed you as a whore, but a woman who caught a streak of bad luck. I’ll back you up in there if I can.”
I grab Murder’s hand and give it a squeeze before bringing my hand back to myself. “I appreciate that more than you can possibly fathom.”
Chapter One
Confuse them with your silence. Shock them with your actions
~Unknown
Gamble
Two Months Ago . . .
A flickering light hangs in the foyer of the old two-story cabin Rancid runs his charter out of. It’s been flickering for as long as I can remember but I’m not shocked in the least bit that it hasn’t been fixed yet.
Rancid stands on the second to last step of the stairs, sneering at me, watching like a wolf who’s about to devour his prey. While I see his eyes on me, I realize he’s waiting for some sort of reaction. Thank God Murder gave me a heads up for what’s about to unfold. Rancid loves to get a response. He believes by showing one it means someone is against him. Murder walks around me and we both share a knowing look. The man just saved my life.
My eyes focus in on Dog, my charter Prez. His long curly hair is now dark from the dried blood. His left eye is red and purple about to pop out of its socket. There are multiple puncture wounds marking his entire body from the top of his forehead to the bottom of his feet. In all honesty, his feet look like thirty fruit roll ups put side by side. That is how much Rancid has tortured him, shredding his skin bit by bit. Fuck, I shut my eyes for a split second and force the tears that come up to go back down.
Dog isn’t perfect, but he doesn’t deserve this. He could’ve treated me horribly knowing where I came from, but he didn’t. He was the first man in my ten years with this club who showed me respect. His blue eyes look right at me and I feel the way he’s silently apologizing for what’s about to unfold. Every fiber of my being wants to scream, wants to cry and beg for his life but I know it won’t change anything. Rancid is going to kill Dog regardless, and if I even react in the slightest, he’ll kill me too. This may sound selfish, but I’m not ready to die.
There’s no way Rancid could know Dog and I have had a sexual relationship the last couple months. No one in our charter would’ve betrayed him like that. They’d never want this to happen to their Prez. It would mean the demise of everything they’ve all created. Although I must admit it’s fucking hard to look at the man I’ve fallen in love with, tied up and tortured, about to meet his end.
We knew this could happen. We both knew it was a risk. I tried to stop him from making moves on me, saying it would only end with his death. The stubborn man fought it tooth and nail, told me if he died it would be worth it. Said I’d know what love felt like, what I deserved. His name might be Dog, but he’s a charismatic gentleman.
“Brothers, I’m afraid I must confess something to the group of you. Dog here has been compiling a group of you to overthrow me as Prez. Do you know what this means? He’s fuckin’ betrayed us. Some of you may think I’ve gone a bit extreme, but I’m treating him as I would a traitor. If anyone here has a problem with it, they’ll be put in the ground right next to him,” Rancid hisses, meeting his eyes with every Prez in the room. He stops looking around and watches me. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?”
“I— I . . .,” I stammer, looking to Dog who gives me a nod. He wants me to lie, to somehow save myself if I even have a chance. “I’m sorry, he didn’t tell me. If I had caught wind of it you know I would’ve come straight to you like I always do.”
“Stupid cunt, you’re fuckin’ useless!” Rancid approaches me with haste and brings his hand up, balling it into a fist and uses all his force as his flesh hits against my cheek. I don’t realize what’s happening until I’m flying back on the floor.
Pain scorches through my cheek, going all the way up to my temple and down to my jaw. Out of instinct I place my hand over my cheek almost like it’ll help. It won’t do shit. I peer up through my lashes and look to Dog, whose nostrils are flaring out of anger. I want to scream, to tell him to stop, to not be a rage filled idiot but it’s all too late when Rancid notices how he’s behaving.
Rancid turns his body, stalks toward Dog and sneers in his face. “Remember what happens to those who betray me— they die. Eve
ry single one of them.” Rancid’s hand comes flying back with his hunting knife and I feel the choking sound coming from in front of him. While his body is covering Dog’s, I know what’s just unfolded.
I open my mouth and almost let out a scream when a pair of hands go over my mouth. I turn to my right, needing to know who stopped me from giving myself away and see Demon. “Be quiet, stupid girl. Dog is dying for you. Don’t fuck this up.” Demon releases my mouth and stands back behind me where he was a moment ago before Rancid turns around again.
He steps out of the way and I see Dog with the blade in the middle of his throat. Blood spills from his lips as he chokes on it. I stand up, walking with purpose up to Dog and Rancid. “What’re you gonna do, Gamble?”
I look to Rancid with the most sinister look I can muster up, “Make the traitor feel even more pain before he loses his miserable life.”
Rancid cackles and walks away. I hear Demon saying something to him in the background and hope he’ll distract him long enough for me to do what I need to. I turn back for a split second and verify Rancid isn’t facing my direction. I make sure to place my lips as close to Dog’s ear while my hand is on the blade, ready to pull it out. “I love you, Dog. I won’t let you suffer anymore.” I move my right hand on top of his and look into the eyes as light as the Gulf sea and remove the blade. He struggles even more now that it’s gone but squeezes my hand. I hold his as well and use the entire force of my body to penetrate the blade through his chest, straight into his heart.
His eyes widen as the blade ventures further until they stop, “I love you. Promise me you’ll stay safe.”
“Yes, I will. I promise.”
“You can trust them,” Dog nods his head behind me and I turn back, seeing Murder, Demon, Nycto, Capone and a couple of the others distracting the other Prezs here. By the time I turn back the life has faded from his eyes.
I pull the knife from his chest and shove it into his body multiple times, needing it to look like I did what I said I was going to. There’s no easy way to violate the man you love, to stab him multiple times, however I know more than anything he wanted me to live. So, I’ll sell the pissed clubwhore who doesn’t want her national Prez to be betrayed, because it’s the only way I’m going to keep surviving.
I’ll just have a hard time going to bed at night knowing the blood covering my hands belongs to the man who swore we’d be there for one another until the end of time.
Chapter Two
“You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. Do the thing you think you cannot do.”
~Eleanor Roosevelt
Gamble
Two Months Ago . . .
I’m not sure how long I’ve stood here staring down at my hands, stuck in this moment. I want to believe everything I just experienced was nothing but a dream. However, I know I’d never be so lucky. A hand on my shoulder causes me to turn back and I’m face-to-face with Hatchet. Honestly, I’m kind of surprised. Figured Murder would keep playing the big, protective brother thing he has going on.
Hatchet is the Prez for Miami, but he prefers to be called Hatch. Honestly, when I first came into the Royal Bastards MC he seemed like the man who would save the day. You know the type. Big, muscular and buff. Long dark hair and tanned skin that practically makes him Jason Momoa’s twin. There might’ve been a day where I had a schoolgirl crush on this tall, dark and mysterious guy. But Rancid making sure everyone knew I was his prisoner, his little plaything fucked with everything. Well, everything except Dog. He was the only man willing to die for me.
“Gamble, let’s get you cleaned up.” Hatch tells me, placing his hand on the small of my back he takes me down the hallway and into the bathroom behind the stairwell. He turns the faucet on, grabs a washcloth and stares at me in the mirror. It’s almost as if he’s judging me.
“What?” I snarl, meeting his eyes in the mirror.
“You two could’ve been a hell of a lot smarter. Now Dog’s dead and you’re gonna be next.”
I turn and look Hatchet in the eyes, “Rancid will never kill me. He’s far too selfish for that. Instead he’d rather torture me like a cat does to a mouse, only unlike the fuckin’ mouse who finally gets to rest . . . I won’t. I’ll continue to be toyed with my entire fucking life.”
“He’s killed women for less. You won’t always be his prized trophy.” I’m not sure if Hatchet is trying to scare me or not, but it isn’t working. Until I feel the blade being pressed through my flesh, I won’t show an ounce of fear.
A few moments of silence pass us by while Hatchet wets the washcloth and wipes the blood off my hands. I stand here void, almost like I’m having an out of body experience while he cleans me off. Neither of us say a thing because there isn’t much we can say. Or at least, I don’t think there is.
“Do you know what he’s going to do now? He said he’d never give Ravage the spot,” Ravage is the VP of the Baltimore charter, Dog’s best friend and second in command. Now I’m wondering if Rancid is going to put a hit on Ravage and clean house so to speak. If he’s that paranoid, he just might order it.
“No one ever has a clue when it comes to Rancid. He’s a fuckin’ wildcard. Don’t have to tell you that.”
Hatchet might not realize how badly his words burn, but boy they do. I’d know more than anyone here just how Rancid’s word doesn’t mean shit. He promised my father he’d let my mother and sister go if he surrendered. He didn’t keep that promise, though. He broke it the second my father went down on his knees and gave up. We’d lost every single person in the Knights of Retribution MC except the few members of my family Rancid hadn’t killed.
I remember it like yesterday, how it was so quiet in the clubhouse that you could hear the buzzing of the air conditioning unit all the way in the back. Looking back at it now, it was far too quiet. My father’s knees hit the ground and like an old fashioned western Rancid drew his pistol and shot my mother and sister in the stomach. He wanted them to suffer and ensured they would by the location of the shot. It took them three hours to bleed out in front of us.
My sister, Kodi, was three years older than I. If anyone was going to die I thought it would be me, but Rancid made it clear after he shot her how he preferred his women young. Guess a fifteen-year-old really hit the spot for a man like him.
“No, you don’t.” I take my hands from Hatchet’s grip and turn off the faucet, drying my hands on the towel hanging off the side of the sink and open the door, heading straight back into the hallway and go into the foyer. Dog’s body is now moved and I don’t know whether to be grateful or sad. Looking at his corpse will be something I never forget, along with many other actions I’ve had to make on this day.
The front door opens and in walks Rancid. Fuck, I thought I could escape his company for quite a while. He stalks up to me like a lion you’d see at the zoo on the other side of the fence. The way his eyes float up and down my body tell me something crazy is about to happen. I take this moment to clear my head and ensure my poker face is on point so I don’t show any reaction.
“I’ve done a lot of thinkin’, brothers. Now that Dog is out of the picture, I think we should change things up a tad,” Rancid pauses for a moment while a bit of cheering comes from around the foyer and hallway. “I don’t know about you, but never have I heard of a woman being Prez. Have you?”
My eyes go wide for a split second at what Rancid’s suggesting. I’m quick to get over the shock and listen as he chuckles while some of the brothers give him a cautious look and others curse under their breaths, saying how a woman has no place leading a club.
“Whoa, hold up now. When have I led any of you astray? I’m waiting . . .,” Rancid says, meeting his eyes with every man in the clubhouse. “Right, I haven’t. I’m not callin’ for a vote when it comes to this shit. Gamble is gonna be the Prez of the Baltimore charter since Dog is gone, but I’m finally makin’ this bitch club property, brothers. Any Prez of the club
can sink their cock into her cunt. Consider her the most exclusive clubwhore you can all have.”
For a split second I think I’m hearing him wrong, but I should know better. The only thing you can ever expect from Rancid is the unexpected. Never did I anticipate he’d ever allow anyone to knowingly touch me. He’s had me to himself for ten whole years. Well, besides Dog.
“Shit, you serious, Rancid?” Heavy speaks up from the crowd.
“When have I ever been kidding?” Rancid shoots back, glaring at the Prez of the Washington D.C. charter.
Heavy walks right up to me, yanks down my jeans and turns me around. “You say we can treat her like a clubwhore, well, fuck if my cock don’t know how to do what it does best.” Without warning I feel pressure as he forces his dick inside me. He’s called Heavy for a reason and makes sure everyone knows why. His cock isn’t just long, but thick too, giving him his road name, Heavy.
I shut my eyes and try to focus on anything else, but it’s useless. Rancid has only made me the Prez so I can be the laughingstock of the entire fucking club. I didn’t think he could find anymore ways to punish me, but this far surpasses any amount of physical pain he could bring me. Instead he went for emotional pain, for humiliation. What a fucking bastard.
Heavy drills into me for far longer than I care to admit, pulling out just in time to unleash his load on my face and then Rancid fucks me. He moves me from room to room, but only he and Heavy partook in using me like a whore. Rancid on the other hand unleashed his load in me multiple times as always. I swear the man gets his rocks off by making me smell like cum and sweat.
Bet On Me: Royal Bastards MC: Baltimore #1 Page 2