Love, Loyalty & Mayhem: A Motorcycle Club Romance Anthology

by Ryan Michele

  Viking relaxes back, his gaze beating down on Merc. Finally, he glances around, his expression lightening a touch, “Damn good idea. Any of you have a woman wanting work or if get one in the future; make sure she’s trying to get a job at one of the places around us. Smokey, I’ll get with you later to discuss our account balance and what we may be able to buy into locally. It’s about time we start thinking of the future in ways we haven’t already. I’m not talking about the money we bring in now, but something the club kids can have a piece of. Maybe a sandwich shop or something. I want them to have a way to be legit and not face bullshit bias harassment because they’re tied to us.”

  I guzzle the rest of my beer then ask, “So, I give up on the principal then? We just replacing her?”

  Everyone’s attention falls to me again, and Viking scoffs. “Fuck no. Plan’s still in place with her. We don’t have the school board on speed dial to fire her ass, so get in there and get her to submit. She’s been a fucking pain to the club for long enough.”

  Sweat breaks out across my brow at his words, but I nod regardless. They haven’t seen how fucking gorgeous she is. They’re like me, assuming she’s some uptight, boring, rule-enforcing, cat lady. This is not the case at all; she probably turns down assholes while pumping gas or buying groceries.

  “Anything else?” Prez questions, and we grunt out various no’s. “Then, get the fuck out!” He slams the gavel down, and we shuffle out, headed for the bar in the next room.

  Torch approaches, folding his thick, tattooed arms over his chest. “So the chat you had with her the other day was that bad, huh?” He’s fucking jack diesel; we should’ve called him Terminator or some shit. Back then, we had no idea how huge he’d become though.

  I nod. “I was gonna hit you up about it, but Princess has had me busy fixing her car. Viking’s had too much shit going on to do it, and I don’t like thinking of her without transportation.” Vike’s ol’ lady has become the little sister I never had. I’ve protected her since the day that the Widow Makers MC and I had held her hostage. She could’ve had her ol’ man kill me, but she saved my life instead. I vowed from that moment on that I would do whatever I could to keep her safe. The vow evolved from a protection detail to her becoming my family and someone I’d consider a best friend.

  “Did you get the car finished?” He sits on the stool next to mine, our broad shoulders making up a wall of muscle.

  “Yeah. There was a coolant leak. Three hoses and a water pump later, and it runs like new. Pain in the fucking ass too.”

  A beer is placed in front of me along with a bottle of water for Torch. I nod my thanks to Frost, the prospect working the bar today. I had to train him, so I’ve been around Frost more than anyone else around here. He’s not too bad; he’ll make a good member someday.

  “We can pop smoke in a few, and I can get you added onto the approved list before I take care of some club shit. She’s a ballsy bitch, giving you the boot for that shit.”

  “Bet,” I respond and take a long pull from the ice cold beverage. I should grab some flowers or some shit and just get this over with. It’s probably a good idea to make my presence known to her as much as possible. She’s gotta learn real quickly that she can’t get rid of me so easily. I’m going to be like a fly on her ass, hard to swat away and always buzzing to remind her I’m there.

  Finishing off our drinks, we throw a quick munch on some lasagna that Princess was kind enough to make for the club’s lunch and head for the parking lot. As the heavy door closes behind us, a matte black Hell Cat pulls to a stop, doors opening wide to reveal the ol’ ladies from the other charter.

  London gets out of the driver’s seat; she’s tall with big tits nearly spilling over her low-cut leopard-print top. She’s so damn curvy that the woman could make a man weep with her wide hips. Her hair’s black as night, tinted with blue, and the outfit she’s wearing has her looking every ounce of a pin-up doll stepping from a magazine cover. She’s a bad bitch, the ol’ lady to the VP down the road, and she’s almost always knocked up. Who can blame a brother though. I’m sure we’d all have her ass on lock-down if we were in his shoes.

  Avery steps from the passenger side, her auburn hair cut perfectly in layers and shining. Her nose is peppered with freckles that have her appearing a touch more innocent than she is. She comes from a wealthy home and wears money with class. She flashes an easy smile at us while looking damn good in a silk shirt she’d refer to as a blouse no doubt. She’s always in tight-as-fuck diamond-studded jean shorts that make her ass look like you could bounce a quarter off of it. Not that any of us would ever go there; she’s like our Jude, claimed by two of our brothers. Surprisingly, she balances their charter prez and gun runner flawlessly. She could easily use her club status to her advantage but doesn’t; she’s kind, welcoming, and loyal—all traits we want in an ol’ lady of the Oath Keepers.

  A tiny blonde climbs out of the back seat. Her hair’s so light, it’s nearly white and falls to her waist. She’s pushing maybe five feet at most, reminding me of a pixie; she’s the Oath Keepers’ very own Tinker Bell. She may seem sweet and an easy target, but she’s Twist’s ol’ lady, Sadie. He’s one of the craziest motherfuckers in the entire club—the unholy one—so Sadie must be a secret badass. Not only that, but her older brother is 2 Piece, the gun runner. She’s also part of the reason why I was nearly killed trying to protect Princess and our club a while back. Her kid is the grandson to the president of the Iron Fists MC, a rival of ours. I’ve learned that sometimes the sweetest women are actually the most deceptively dangerous.

  “Ladies,” I call out in welcome, always the charmer.

  Two additional cages and a street bike pull in to park next to the Hell Cat. Bethany, Nightmare’s ol’ lady, gets out of a car to greet Mercenary’s ol’ lady in the grumbling, fully-restored Nova. Chevelle owns the race track down the road, so she’s always in a souped-up muscle car with enough horsepower to make you want to check the size of your balls. The crimson-haired, leather-clad female climbing off the street bike to stand beside London is Snake’s ol’ lady, Peppermint. This is a prime example why so many of us are single still. How can we find a chick worthy when you compare them to the bad bitches of the Oath Keepers? These females would eat the average woman alive if offered the chance.

  “Fuck,” Torch mutters under his breath, taking in the gorgeous group of women. “The fuck is going on?” he asks loud enough so only I can overhear him.

  “Don’t know, brother,” I reply. “But a group of bitches this bad...in one place has me wondering if we should leave at all. Maybe we should check their cars for dynamite or some shit; they could be up to something. Viking may need us, after all.”

  He snorts, folding his arms across his chest, his tattooed biceps bulging as he glares at the females in front of us. “There a problem?” he asks outright. Any other group of chicks would tuck tail and get out of here, but not these troublemakers.

  London saunters toward us first with a sway in her hips; the others are quick to follow. Smirking, my dimples come out to play as I tease, “Your ol’ man know you stole his car again?”

  She rolls her eyes, her throaty voice nearly making my cock harden as she argues. “Loretta’s my car, Blaze. Besides, what’s he gonna do? Spank me? Maybe you should tattle on me, after all.”

  “Right,” I huff and shake my head. We all know she’s guilty of taking off in his car for joyrides and gets the other ladies to tag along on her expeditions. If Cain weren’t such a mean motherfucker, he’d never hear the end of the teasing about his ol’ lady making him hunt her down when she’s feeling froggy.

  Chevelle grins wickedly. “You know London, I own the track down the way...you ever want to race that pretty girl, you just let me know, hun. We’ll have some fun.”

  Torch’s and my brows rise, not wanting to bear witness to their plans that’ll no doubt cause their men to worry. The door opens behind us and Princess and Jude poke their heads out. “Ladies! You’re he
re, come on!”

  I catch Princess’s wrist, halting her. “P, the fuck’s goin’ on? Should I stay?”

  She beams a smile and shakes her head. “We’re having margaritas. We decided to make it a weekly thing to meet up. You guys go; we have the prospects here to make us drinks.”

  Torch mumbles, but being around him so often, I catch his quick inhale of “Lord help us.”

  “Agreed, brother,” I comment, giving Princess’s wrist a soft squeeze. “Call if you need anything; I mean it.”

  She pats my cheek gratefully. “I will. Thank you.” With that, she steps back, holding the door open, and the women step around us, heading inside.

  “The brothers are in for a surprise,” I say as we head for our bikes.

  “The brothers are about to shit,” Torch retorts, and we fire our engines up.

  I grin until we hit the highway, ‘cause that shits hella funny.

  3

  “Can I help you, gentlemen?” The front desk lady stares wide-eyed at Torch and me, tapping her pen on the desk nervously. She’s probably pushing sixty-five -with her perfectly coifed hairstyle, the white having a pale sheen of pink to it. Her shirt proclaims she’s a proud grandma, and I like her immediately. She’s got some spunk in there, I can already tell.

  Plucking the biggest daisy from my flower bunch, I present it to her with a charismatic smile. “Yes, ma’am, you sure can. I’m here to get on my niece’s visitor log or whatever it’s called.”

  “The emergency contact card and approved pick-up list,” Torch mutters beside me. Apparently, he already knows these things. I have no clue. Hell, his daughter’s not even my real niece, but what the school doesn’t know, won’t hurt.

  “Of course, what’s the sweet girl’s name? And I’ll need to see some identification, please.”

  He digs into his back pocket, pulling his chained wallet free and hands over his driver’s license. “Her name is Annabelle Teague.”

  The lady glances at the ID and hands it back before heading for some stacks of papers on the shelves behind her. “We have it on the computer, but you’ll need to sign a form so I can add it to her file.” As she’s turning to bring the paper to Torch, the door off to the left side of the room opens.

  I swear it’s like the first time I’m seeing this woman all over again. My chest tightens, I’m short of breath, and my cock semihardens. That’s just from a fucking glance at the bitch too. I think if I were to hear her say the word cock or pussy, I’d come in my pants. Swallowing down my nerves, I grit my teeth to get my bearings. She can’t know that she shakes me up like this; I have to gain control. She’s been top dog amongst her peers for far too long, and it’s time she learns to humble herself with the Oath Keepers. Viking doesn’t take kindly to folks getting in our way, whether it’s the M or the club brats.

  The older lady brightens. “Ah, Amelia, I was just about to order your lunch, ma’am.”

  “Thank you, Florence. Was there an issue here?” She gestures to Torch and me. She automatically assumes something’s going on, just because we’re standing here, buff, bearded, tatted up and wearing our leather cuts. She should be happy to have us in her school. It means we’d protect it if the need ever arose. God forbid they ever go on lock-down for whatever reason, but with Annabelle and Maverick around, we’d be the first to arrive to help out.

  Florence sets the fresh-cut daisy down on her desk and leans in and pats my cheek as I flash her another grin. “Not with these sweet boys,” she replies before taking her seat. Torch fills out the form, and I arrogantly smirk at the principal I don’t have to even open my mouth, and I already drive her a bit crazy.

  “Don’t think we’ve officially met,” I say, and she sighs, her dainty hand fluttering to rub her temple.

  “Mr...”

  “Blaze.”

  “Of course,” the stunning pissed off woman mutters and gestures toward the room she just came from. “May I speak to you in my office, Mr. Blaze?”

  I’m not an idiot; I know damn well it’s not a question. I spent most of my days in school in trouble. They always ask you nicely before they pull you in their offices and cut you down. Newsflash for this bitch I’m not some pussy-ass beta boy nobody. I’m an Oath Keeper, and if she thinks she can rattle me, she’s got another thing coming.

  Closing the door behind me, she doesn’t bother sitting down before she lays into me. “Do I need to remind you of our conversation yesterday? I will have you removed from school property.”

  Hiking my thumb toward the door, I look her over, smugly mentioning, “My boy Torch is out there right now, adding me to the approved list you mentioned, so I’m not trespassing.” Stepping forward, I toss the flowers on her desk and fold my arms over my chest. “A motherfucking peace offering.” I nod to them. “Now, smile and say thank you, and then I’ll be on my way.”

  Her cheeks warm, flushing bright red. I’m not sure if she realizes it’s happening or not, but I love knowing the effect my words have on her. “Watch. Your. Mouth!” she hisses, and I chuckle.

  “You’re a real stickler for the rules, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

  “My name is Amelia Stone—Doctor Amelia Stone. You shall address me as such.”

  “I’ll address you as pussy lips if I see fit, especially if you continue to have that rod stuck up your ass. I think it’s why your lips look so pinched, and you walk funny. I can help ya out if you’d like?” I shrug nonchalantly, and she screeches with outrage.

  “Get out! Out!” Her slender finger points to the door, and I laugh, pleased to witness her lose control of her calm, cool facade.

  “Already? But we’ve only just met—officially, that is.”

  She inhales a deep breath, attempting to gain her composure, a pacifying smile coming to rest over her lips. She thinks she’s smarter than me, better than me...I can see it in her patronizing expression. “Mr. Blaze, please exit my office and this school for that matter. Your language is inappropriate for the children.”

  Dusting my nails against my shirt, I glance at them, not a care in the world when it comes to her and argue, “We’re not around any children.” I lean my hip against her desk, making myself comfortable.

  The action further irritates her. She huffs. “I’m well aware, but you still need to leave.”

  “Look, Amelia, I’m not one to go around bursting bubbles, but you need to get used to me. We’ll be seeing each other often.”

  “Oh? How do you figure?”

  I step a bit closer, just enough to crowd her and smell a soft flowery scent. She thinks she’s a hard bitch, but she screams woman all over. I confide, “Babe, the Oath Keepers make multiple private donations all the time. We figure this is a good stage to make sure that’s well known since we have multiple club brats going here at the moment.”

  Her brow wrinkles as she opens her mouth to speak, but I interrupt. My hand reaches out, lightly grazing her sharp, pale jawline. “Annabelle and Maverick both speak highly of you.”

  I lie through my teeth. I’ve heard nothing but complaints about her from the club. However, you can catch more bees with honey I’ve come to learn over the years.

  She flinches back, stunned I’ve gotten that close, and she either allowed it unconsciously or else she didn’t see it coming. “I can’t discuss students with you.”

  “Of course not, and you don’t need to, sweetheart. We all chat about you anyhow, so we’re well aware of what goes down around here.”

  Her fingers flutter up to her temples. She’s trying not to flip her shit, and I’m loving every minute of it. Knowing I can unnerve her is all the reassurance I need at the moment. “I think it’s best if you leave now.” She repeats her earlier demand, and I can’t help but fuck with her a touch more.

  “Say please,” I murmur, tilting my head, and her shocked stare meets mine.

  “Ex-excuse me?”

  “You want me to leave, say please.”

  She swallows, irises blazing. She’s probably biting her to
ngue to keep from lashing out like I want her to. “Fine,” Amelia concedes, whispering, “please leave.”

  “Blaze,” I grin, and her mouth drops open. “Say, please leave my office, Blaze.”

  “I swear, I’ll...”

  “You’ll what, Principal Stone?”

  “Please leave my office, Blaze,” she repeats. I think her head may explode if I keep pushing her right now.

  My grin turns conceited, flicking my gaze over her again. “Good girl,” I say as I turn for her door. I don’t have to look at her to know she wants to throw something at my back, probably her fancy paperweight. She won’t do it, but the fact I got under Amelia’s skin that much, is exactly what I was hoping for.

  Now I need to charm Miss Stone’s schedule from sweet old Florence and start showing up enough to finally break the good principal. She may not know it yet, but she’ll be mine. The bitch is far too feisty to not be on the back of a bike—my bike.

  Rage and Karma greet Torch and me at the gate as we make it back to the compound. They’re some of our newest prospects, a set of twins aching to belong in the club. “What are you two shitheads doing out here?” We pull to a stop, waiting for them to open the gate so we can get to the clubhouse.

  One of them, I’m not sure which since they both look the same to me, flashes a wicked grin. “Prez thought we were flirting with the ol’ ladies.”