“You can leave if you want, but things are going to get better, I promise.”
She looked into his eyes and knew he believed it, but it was too much for her. “Maybe I’ll come back then. I can’t stay, not now. I can’t face anyone else. It’s too much. Especially not the men.”
“You won’t have to. No more challenges.”
She looked around the table, meeting the eyes of Perri, McKenzie and Bobbi. She liked them, and she was beginning to feel like she belonged and was accepted, but she didn’t know if that was enough.
“Give us a chance, Sierra,” McKenzie said.
Sierra smiled and looked down. “Okay, I’ll give it another few days, but no more challenges.”
Bobbi snickered. “Who would want to after the beat-down you gave Monica?”
Sierra’s smile widened just a bit. “I told her I was going to kick her ass.”
Colt leaned over and kissed softly her again, glad to hear a bit of Sierra’s spirit returning. “And you did.”
Sierra brightened all through breakfast, the laughing and teasing making her feel better. She’d been appalled at her actions and the violence she was capable of, but nobody else seemed to think less of her. During the meal, she noticed several members, men and women alike, gave her nods and smiles of approval when they caught her eye.
“When you’re healed up, I get you next,” Rocks said after striding up and standing before her. “You and me, first to come loses. No holds barred.”
“No more challenges,” Colt said firmly. “She’s done enough already.”
Rocks glared at Colt. “I have a right, Colt. She can’t just decide she doesn’t want to play by the rules.”
“I said she’s done enough.”
“You hear that, everyone?” Rocks said, raising his voice. “Colt has decided Sierra’s ‘done enough’ and doesn’t have to stand for any more challenges. I say that’s bullshit! She’s a member of the club so she has to play by the same rules as everyone else!”
Monica was first on her feet. “This is bullshit! She can’t do that! She has to stand!”
“When will it stop, Monica?” Bobbi asked. “You had your shot and you lost, so now you send in Rocks to do what you couldn’t?”
“She didn’t have anything to do with it.” Rocks said loudly. “She’s not anyone’s old lady, so she’s available to anyone who wants her. That’s the way it has always been. She wouldn’t accept me, so I challenge her right to reject me.”
“That’s the way it has always been,” Skye agreed. “We’ve all been there. I’m nobody’s old lady and I take all comers. She has to do the same.”
“No,” Colt said firmly.
“Is she your old lady?” Rocks demanded.
“Yes.”
“Doesn’t matter!” Skye cried out. “She wasn’t when Rocks went to her. I think his challenge is valid! Who’s with me?”
The dozen or so usual suspects all agreed. “I don’t give a shit what you think,” Colt said as he slowly rose to his feet. “You want a piece of her, you go through me first.”
“Skye’s right,” Paul said, joining the argument for the first time. “I gave you the chance to make her your old lady and you didn’t take it. Now, you have, but she still has to satisfy the challenges first, or she has to make good with the men who wanted to fuck her. It’s her choice.”
“This is fucked up, Paul!”
“It’s how this fucking club operates,” Paul roared. “You knew the rules when you joined. If you don’t like them, turn in your colors. But she fucking stands! You got that?”
“No!” Colt bellowed. “Come on, Sierra,” he snarled. “Get your stuff. You’re out of here.”
“No fucking way!” Monica yelled. “That bitch isn’t walking out like this. She stands for her challenges! If we let her just decide to quit because she is too good to play by our rules, then what’s to prevent someone else from doing the same thing? She whipped my ass, fair enough. But I fucking took it. I say she either stands, relents, or we make a lesson of her!”
“Fuck you!” Colt bellowed. “Put it to a vote!”
“No!” Paul roared just as loudly. “Monica is right! What’s it going to be, Sierra?”
“Put it to a vote!” Colt shouted again.
“This is my fucking club and what I say goes! She stands, relents and agrees to play by the rules, or we make a lesson of her for anyone else who thinks they can pick and choose which rules to follow!”
Everyone started shouting at one another until Paul pulled a weapon and pointed it at Sierra’s head, causing the room to instantly go deathly silent. “What’s it going to be, Colt? It’s time for you to make a choice. She either stands for her challenges, allows the men who went to her to fuck her, or I kill her. Your choice.”
Sierra shook her head. “I’ll die before I let someone rape me,” she said softly.
“Fair enough,” Paul said, drawing the hammer back on the revolver.
“Wait!” Colt roared, stepping between Paul and Sierra. “If it has to be done, I’ll do it.”
“What?” Sierra screamed.
“Fine,” Paul said, decocking the weapon and tucking it back out of sight. “But if you don’t do it, and you let her go, you better go with her and get the hell out of Nevada because otherwise we’ll hunt you both down and kill you both.”
Colt glared at Paul then grabbed Sierra by the arm and started hustling her out of the clubhouse.
“Colt?” Sierra asked, her voice trembling, as he led her to the door. “What are we doing?”
“You heard him,” he snarled.
She began to jerk on her arm. “You’re not going to kill me! Colt, please! You said I was your old lady! Colt!”
He shoved her through the door. “Get on,” he rumbled as he shoved her hard toward his bike.
She was really frightened now. He was choosing his club over her again. “Colt! You can’t kill me! You’re not a murderer!”
“Get on the fucking bike or I’ll do you right here!” he roared.
“Colt, please,” she whimpered, looking over her shoulder as the rest of the club gathered to watch the drama. “Bobbi! Please!”
“Colt,” Bobbi began. “You need to think about this.”
“Nothing to think about,” he growled as he sat on the bike and started it. “Get the fuck on!”
“No! Fletch! Don’t let him—”
“Get the fuck on, right now!” Colt roared, drawing his weapon and pointing it at her head.
She began to cry in earnest, but she mounted the bike. “I thought we had something,” she sobbed.
He tucked the weapon away, banged the bike into gear and twisted the throttle hard, the bike scrabbling for traction as it roared away.
He stopped only a couple of miles away and killed the engine, the DVMC compound just visible in the distance. “Get off.”
“Colt, please!” she wailed. “Keep my money, okay? You can have it! You don’t have to do this! Just let me go! We can run away together! Please, Colt!”
He brought his gun up and pointed it at her head. “When I pull the trigger, I want you to drop into the dirt.”
She barely heard him over her sobs. “What?”
“When I pull the trigger, fall like I shot you, okay?”
“You’re not going to kill me?” Her mind was whirling.
“No. But I need them to think I did. So when I pull the trigger, you drop. I’m going to shoot near you a couple more times, but you’ll be okay.”
“You fucking asshole!” she screamed. “You scared the shit out of me! Why didn’t you tell me!”
“Because I needed you to think I was going to do it. I’m sure they’re watching us right now and I needed you to sell it. After I shoot you, I want you lay out here for a while. It’s going to be hot and uncomfortable, and I’m sorry for that, but I want them to think I really did it.”
“Then what?”
“Then I want you to come back to the clubhouse.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
“No. I want you to burst in and make as much noise as possible. That will be our signal.”
“Signal for what?”
“We’re taking over the club.”
“You’re using me as bait! You asshole!”
“No, but Rocks forced my hand. We’re going now.”
“How can I trust you?”
“If you’re alive in thirty seconds, you can trust me. If not, it won’t matter anyway. Ready?”
She covered her eyes with her hands, unable to watch. “Yes.”
The gun roared, incredibly loud in the still desert air. She jumped, but then threw herself to the sandy soil. Colt’s gun barked twice more then was quiet. She pulled her hands down and saw him standing over her. He gave her a wan smile.
“I guess you can trust me,” he said softly, tossing the gun down beside her. “Take that. Use it if you have to.”
“You’re still an asshole!” she muttered, unable to believe she was actually alive.
“Yeah, but I’m your asshole. Wait at least an hour before you move. Stay as low as you can. There’s an arroyo a few hundred yards to my right. Get down in it before you start toward the clubhouse. And for God’s sake, stay low! If they see you, we’re both dead.”
“What if I run?”
“Then get as far away as you can and don’t look back. If you can get word to me, I’ll send you your money.” With that he turned and walked to his bike without a backward glance.
When he walked back into the clubhouse, every eye was on him. He didn’t have to act pissed off because he was. “Did you?” Fletcher asked softly when Colt poured a shot glass full at the bar and downed it in a single toss.
“Wait for the signal,” he growled as he poured another. It was only ten in the morning, but he didn’t care.
“What signal?”
“You’ll know it when you see it. Slip me a gun, pass the word, then stay close.”
Sierra snuck up to the DVMC clubhouse and paused to wipe the sweat from her face. She lay in the broiling sun for almost an hour before moving off, crawling on her belly until she reached the cut in the earth. From there she crept along in a crouch, stopping every few minutes to listen for the sounds of someone following her.
Taking a deep breath she eased around the corner of the building, pressing her back flat against the wall as she saw them do on television while she slinked toward the door, the gun in her hand pointed at the sky. She paused at the door, her legs like jelly, breathing hard. It was now or never. She spun, jerked the door open and rushed in, the gun pointed in front of her.
“You assholes can’t kill me that easily!” she screamed, a line she thought of and practiced as she made her way toward the clubhouse.
The only person moving was Colt, drawing a weapon as he spun to face Paul. A moment later, bedlam erupted as Nic, Harrison, Fletcher, and Gunner began drawing their weapons and pointing them a various people in the room.
“What’s the meaning of this?” Paul bellowed.
“You’re done,” Colt said quietly. “We’re taking over the club.”
“This is my fucking club! I’ll never let you—”
A gun roared, deafening in the cavernous building, and Paul’s head exploded in a spray of blood. Colt whirled, bringing his gun around toward the threat as Gunner lowered is weapon slightly. “Wrong answer,” he said softly. “That’s for Anna.” He then turned and faced the wide-eyed crowd. “It’s done,” he said loudly. “Anybody else have a problem with this?” When nobody said anything he smiled. “That’s what I thought.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Somebody get that asshole out of here,” Colt muttered. They had put down their weapons, but everyone was still on edge. “I told you I would handle it!” he snarled at Gunner as Fletcher and Harrison wrapped up Paul’s body and began to haul it out.
“I had to do it, Colt. I owed it to Anna.”
“You know you’re a murderer now?”
“You would have been had you pulled the trigger, so what difference does it make? Besides, if you had done it, everyone would have known it was personal.”
Colt fumed, having to eat his own words. “Okay. Just don’t do that shit again.”
“No reason to now.”
“Anybody who has a problem with this is free to go,” Colt said to the crowd. “Nobody will try to stop you.”
“You think we’re going to stand by while you take over our club? You’re crazy,” Dom said, his voice as cold as an artic wind. “I’ve been here since the beginning and I’m not going to have some snot-nosed punk that thinks he knows everything change what this club was built on.”
“You mean all the fighting and fucking, drugs, theft? Is that what you’re talking about?”
“Fucking yeah! We’re the baddest of the badasses. We take what we want and fuck the rest!”
“Or,” Colt said, “we can go straight and not have to spend all our time looking over our shoulders. We can pull together as a team to make this club great, to make some real money, or we can do as Dom suggests and keep going the way we are going until DVMC collapses. How many here think Sierra is getting a raw deal?” he asked. Not quite half the hands went up. “How many think she is getting everything she deserves.” The remainder of the hands went into the air. Colt snorted. “Seems like we have about an even split. We’re never going to get anyplace so long as we are two clubs. We need to pull together, as one.”
“What’s the plan?” Chains called from the back of the room. “We know you have been cooking something up.”
Colt grinned. “I want to go with what we know, and what we know is how to do fuck. So…I want to open a brothel, but not just any brothel. I want to open a themed brothel.”
“A whorehouse?” Chains asked, incredulous.
“But with a twist. I want to give customers an experience they will never forget. Three days in an outlaw MC. I’ve done the research and there is nothing else quite like it. They pay $5,000 a day and, for that, they get to ride, and steal, and, most importantly, fuck like real badasses. We provide the complete experience. DVMC runs the operation and everyone who works gets a cut of the profits.”
“No fucking way!” Rocks called. “I’m not having a bunch of posers in my club!”
“No!” Colt shouted over the roar of support Rock’s statement generated. “DVMC runs the brothel, but we set up front clubs for the customers. We can work out the names but we have been tentatively calling it the SSMC, the Sons of Sin Motorcycle Club, and their subchapter, the DSMC, Daughters of Sin Motorcycle Club, if women want to be in a club of their own. We provide the colors, the bikes, the works.”
“Then what?” Steve asked.
“Then? Then our clients pay us a shit load of money to ride our bikes, drink our booze, rob our store and fuck our women. Or men.”
“You think this will work?” Vicki asked. “You’re not expecting the women to lie on their backs for this are you? We’re not all Skye, you know.”
“Fuck you, bitch,” Sky muttered.
“No, absolutely not. There are plenty of jobs that will need to be done that don’t require you to fuck. Security, for example. You and Chains could be part of the SSMC, and you could be his old lady, just like you are now. We would hire men and women to provide the more personal services.”
“But if we wanted to fuck one of the customers?” Steve asked.
Colt shrugged. “So long as the customer wanted to, why would the club care? Just remember, the customer is always right.”
The room was quiet a moment. “How are we supposed to pay for all of this?” Monica asked.
“We have been saving for seed money,” Colt replied. “The club would kick in what it has, about six-hundred thousand. The rest we apply for a business loan, just like anyone else.”
“I think this is fucking ridiculous,” Skye called loudly. “What if we don’t want to risk the club’s money on your harebrained scheme?”
> “You’re free to leave,” Nic chimed in.
“This is my fucking club, too!” Skye shouted.
“This will work,” Colt said loudly. “Give me a chance to show you the numbers. Then we’ll vote on it. Every members gets a vote.”
“With you in charge?” Dom asked.
“We’ll vote on that, too. Until then, Nic, Harrison, Fletch, Gunner and I, along with Bobbi, Perri, McKenzie and Sierra, will act as a council. We—”
Arsen Page 45