by J Bree
It doesn’t matter to me that he’s my cousin, my blood and someone I grew up with, the fucking longing in his voice just sucker punches me.
“You touch her, I kill you. Simple as that. Keep your eyes on her and call me the fucking second anything happens. I need a fucking gallon of whiskey to forget this fucking night has even happened.”
Speck’s eyes turn into saucers. “Are you— holy fucking shit, are you kidding me?! Tell me you’re just going for dibs here and you’re not ‘struck? Fuck Tomi, of fucking course you’d be ‘struck on her.”
I peg him with a look. “I meant what I fucking said, touch her and you’re bleeding the fuck out. I’m out, I have too much shit to do to be standing around here fucking gossiping.”
I walk out to the sound of him cussing me the fuck out but really he’s only saying the shit swirling in my goddamn head anyway.
The motherfucking Callaghan Curse.
I wasn’t built for that bullshit. Rue has the patience of a fucking saint with all of the shit he’s been dealing with for Poe but I’m not that man. I’m the type that fucks a new woman every night. The type who keeps his shit on lockdown so I never have to worry about child support or alimony.
I’m not going to get stuck with a fucking stripper and all of the baggage that comes with them. Fuck.
I get on my hog and ride back to the clubhouse, ready to get so fucking drunk I forget about today and find some biker bitch to suck me off, but instead I find a parking lot full of motorbikes and music blaring out of the bar.
Fantastic.
The fucking Bay Charter of the Unseen are here.
Just what I fucking need.
I could go inside and see the lot of them. I could spend a few hours drinking with the Boar and his crew, trying to soak up any little clues and signs about the rat problem. I could do my fucking job, the job I’ve had a handle on my entire life, but the fucking second my eyes landed on Angel everything fucking changed.
I think about turning my bike around and heading straight back to the fucking Boulevard but instead I perch my ass on my bike and cuss myself and the curse right the fuck out because it’s happening already. I’m already feeling that fucking noose around my neck choking the life outta me and it’s only been a fucking hour since I laid eyes on her.
How the fuck does Rue live like this?
Instead, I clear my calendar.
I'd been meaning to do a full audit of The Boulevard and finding myself fucking 'struck by a pair of tits with a mean right hook just has me moving that shit forward a couple of weeks.
When I make my way through the clubhouse Farrah waves at me, all coaxing fingers and pouty lips just how I like, but my dick says no fucking thanks.
I'm not fucking happy about it.
"Why don't you wanna come play with me? It's been forever."
Fuck it. I glare at her. "It ain't the time, I've got shit to do. Go find someone else to fuck."
The pout goes from seductive to hurt in a split second. Fucking 'struck, I don't need this kinda shit messing up my life. "Don't look at me like that, I've got a job to do around here that isn't getting on my knees. Find someone who's interested."
She storms off and half the bar starts whooping and jeering at her little old tantrum.
"Since fucking when do you say no to Farrah? Your dick broken or something?" Hawk says with a laugh and I give him a look.
"Good fucking morning to you too. Is Mom around? I need to talk to her about Trink."
That wipes the grin off of his face. "What the hell is she up to now? I'm gonna have to lock her in the fucking house at this rate."
It would be helpful to me if he did. "She's been skipping school again. I'm gonna have Speck start following her around. Law's been doing it but he's got his own classes to get to."
Hawk rolls his shoulders back and grunts at me. "Shouldn't be using club resources for this shit. The girl needs to pull her fucking head in."
I shrug at him and check I've got everything I need. Keys, wallet, guns, a knife strapped to my belt and my phone. Ready as ever for a quiet night out in Coldstone. "She's a Callaghan. What exactly were you expecting? We're lucky she hasn't run off to another club to shake her ass on tables and do lines in the bathroom."
He winces and glances around. "Fuck, don't talk like that. It'll just give her fucking ideas. You were too fucking easy, kid. Makes being her pops that much fucking harder."
I scoff and leave him to his drink, jogging down the steps and over to my hog. It's a thing of fucking beauty, custom built by me and Rue over the last couple of years. He's the grease monkey, never happy unless his hands are covered in oil and there's something in pieces in his garage. I'm the tech guy. Too fucking smart not to go to college but I made for-fucking-sure the club knew where my head was at before I left.
I live and bleed for the Unseen.
I'd die for my brothers.
Going to college meant I could learn how the hell to keep us safer. It means I now know how to build security systems from the ground up. I can rig up fucking anything my club needs and if I can't, I know someone who can for the right price. I might not be able to build a rat finding machine but I can put in enough cameras and mics to catch the fuckers out.
There isn't an inch of the clubhouse or MC property I haven't got ears on.
Makes it easier to find out exactly who Angel Valleti really is because I’m going to learn everything there is to know about the stripper who’s ‘struck me and then I’ll get her the fuck outta Coldstone and my club.
No way I’m losing everything to some piece of ass.
The roar of the engine is loud in the quiet, still air of the night. I pass Alby shutting up his garage as I pull out of the compound, Posey dancing around the old Comet in those tiny jean shorts of hers that I'm sure haunt Rue's dreams.
That shit used to make me laugh... not so much right now.
Speck gives me a look when I arrive at the club, flicking his cigarette to the ground and slouching his way over to me like this whole fucking night is just a normal Tuesday.
“Nothing’s happened since you were gone, asshole. No need to ride up in here looking for blood.”
I shrug and swing off of the motorbike. “I thought I told you to keep an eye on her?”
He groans and rubs a hand over his face. “I got Mike watching her while I escorted a few dickheads out. Shouldn’t you be at the clubhouse with the Bay charter?”
“Change of plans. I have audits to do and I need you to tail Trink for a few days, figure out where the fuck she's been going."
He groans. "Fuck, I think I'd rather stick nails in my eyeballs than follow her ass around. Do I have the club's permission to kill whatever asshole she's sneaking around with?"
I wish. "Just don't fucking lose her. Don't interfere or start a fucking riot, just get me the fucking intel and I'll sort her out."
He nods and rolls his shoulders back. He's the shortest out of the cousins but he's already fucking stacked, too many nights of working out instead of studying for school. He barely graduated, only walked the stage because Mom told him she'd tan his fucking ass if he flunked out.
She's followed through with her threats on us boys enough for him to pull his fucking head in. Trink needs a little more of that shit to get her head back into line but, fuck, I think Mom's attention was just a little too preoccupied by her own antics to remember that her daughter is still a descendant of Rogan Callaghan, the original Unseen MC Prez. The man who built the pipeline and ruled the Dirty South with nothing but a revolver and his old hog.
"I'll let Diamond know I'm out. She likes having me around, Dustin isn't pulling his weight now Maddy had the baby."
Fucking babies. Bitches and babies, a single drop of sweat works its way down my spine.
I have no fucking time for that shit. None. Zero. Another fucking reason this 'struck bullshit needs to disappear. I don't need to be locked down by a woman who comes with some asshole's babies. Strippers always come with ba
ggage and I'd put money on Angel having some asshole ex.
She’s too fucking hot not to.
I try to keep my mind on the topic at hand because the tone of his voice has alarm bells ringing in my fucking head. "Diamond likes having you round because she wants a patch. She doesn't give a fuck who she gets that shit from, she just wants to be in the life. Stay the fuck away from her and if you can't help yourself, stick to blowjobs. Just a little advice from your blood."
He grins and shrugs. "Maybe I don't give a fuck about whether or not she's into me. Maybe I just want a warm hole and a great set of tits to blow all over."
I shake my head at the asshole because he’s gotta get his head outta his ass over this shit soon. There’s this mindless greed that the girls around here have because all of Coldstone know who we are and what we deal in. There isn't a member in the charter that's having money troubles, the average cut for a single weapons run is more than most folk make in a year.
It's why The Boulevard is such a win-win for us. The girls get all of their own tips plus a retainer to stay clean and loyal. The drinks in this place make a tidy profit and the laundering opportunities are endless.
We just need the right fucking accountant to smooth things out a little more, then maybe my headache from this place would ease off.
Mike dips his head at me as we pass and I return the gesture. He's a decent enough sort of guy. Here to feed his kids and pay his ex child support. Hears nothing, sees nothing, ready to bury a body at the drop of a hat.
Perfect employee.
The fact that I have a file full of his criminal activity helps to make sure he stays loyal to the club. I'm not the type of man to leave that shit to chance.
I try to keep my eyes away from the stage but the crowd here is unbelievable. It's a fucking Tuesday and yet there isn't a free seat to be found by the main stage. Diamond looks fucking wrecked, the drinks are flowing and even Mel is serving instead of dancing.
"Busy night! The new girl is fucking popular."
My teeth hurt as I grind them together viciously. "Looks like it. Get your ass on over to Trink."
He gives me a look but doesn't bother questioning me. Wise move, I'm beyond not in the fucking mood.
I wait until I'm at the bar, pouring my second shot of whiskey and ignoring the flirty glances from Diamond herself, and then I look over at the show Angel is giving.
Big mistake.
Huge.
My blood turns to fucking ice at the same time as my belly fills with rage-fueled fire. I take the second shot without looking away from the sinful swing of her hips as she twirls around the pole, her ass completely showing thanks to the thong she's rocking. The matching black bra is still in place but the cash being thrown on the stage in fucking stacks is proof that no one is leaving until her tits come out to play.
When she suddenly tips and flips upside down, her legs splitting open in a full fucking show of flexibility, my cock doesn't just come to the party. Nope, I nearly fucking bust a nut, instantly at the edge of coming at the thought of her splitting those legs for me.
I wonder if her pussy tastes just like the honey scent of her.
I wonder if her pussy feels like the fucking heavenly place it looks on the damn stage. I've never been a jealous man. Never given a fuck about what the girls I've been fucking are doing when I'm not balls deep in them.
I'm about a half-second away from ripping some arms clean off of patrons’ bodies, the way they're all calling out to her and trying to reach out to touch her. She's far enough away from them that she's safe but fuck.
I don't want them touching what's mine.
"Call her down once the song ends. Send Mel up there for an hour, I wanna talk to the new girl. Get a feel of her," I say to Diamond the second she saunters back over to me.
She frowns. "She's not the type to fuck the boss, Tomi. Forget about her, I know exactly what you like."
I swipe the bottle and stand up from my barstool. "What I want is you to shut your fucking mouth and do as I say. I didn't ask for your fucking opinion."
The sultry look evaporates and I make my way back out to my office before she can even attempt to reply. Fuck, I'm likely to just snap and fucking fire her but that would just be a fucking headache and a half for me.
Keep your fucking head together, Callaghan.
Forget about the motherfucking curse.
The office is small enough that the second she opens the door I can smell her. She smells the same as last time, the sweet honey that has me fucking hungry for a bite out of her, and it just gets my hackles up even worse than last time.
"Diamond said you wanted to speak to me."
She's hesitant. None of the usual bravado or seduction I'm used to and I sound like a fucking asshole when I jerk my head at the empty chair and snap, "Park your ass. You'll be here a while."
She swallows and sits down, her arms wrapping around her bare waist. Fuck, she's still sitting there in nothing but the bra and tiny thong, streaks of glitter covering her body that definitely isn't hers. Mel uses the shit and it's slowly but surely covering every surface of the place, no matter how thorough the cleaners are.
"Have I... done something wrong?"
I shuffle some pages and then place them in front of her. "I dunno, have you? Diamond said you're a good worker but I like to know this sort of shit for myself. You need to fill this paperwork out, I need some references."
She bites at her lip, the first sign of seduction I've spotted in her, but she takes the pen and starts to fill in the forms. "I don't have references. This is the first... dancing job I've done. If I'm not doing a good job, please tell me so I can... fix whatever it is that I'm doing wrong."
Fucking lying bitch. There's a couple of dozen men out there who will back me up that there's no way this is her first fucking stripping gig.
She works the pole the same way I want her working my dick; slow, dirty, and like a fucking pro.
"Why are you in Coldstone? Or do you travel in?"
She bites that lip again. "I travel in. Look, I'm not here for friends. Is there a like... employment reason you're asking me this?"
I lean back in the chair and drag my eyes over her again, slow enough that she starts fucking squirming. “Does it matter? You work at my club, you answer my fucking questions.”
She ducks her head and nods, the pen moving a little faster on the page as she fills everything in and then she hands it over.
I huff out a breath. “You’re really not gonna tell me where the fuck you’ve worked before?”
She chews her lip again, the lipstick of hers fucking bomb-proof because it doesn’t smear at all. “I’ve never danced in a club before. I did competitive dance for ten years and a couple of pole classes. That’s it, I swear. If I’ve done something to jeopardize my job here please let me know.”
The tremor in her voice pisses me off. “Get back to work, I have better shit to do than listen to some dumb slut’s lies.”
Her cheeks are bright red as she stands and walks out, her back straight and her legs steady on those killer heels of hers.
I don’t know what I was expecting, not from the girl who doesn’t want to be touched, but it wasn’t that. I don’t have time for a fucking mystery but it looks like I have one anyway.
Fucking perfect.
Chapter Seven
Angel
Tomi becomes a regular face at The Boulevard and everything just gets fucking worse.
He sits in a booth with whiskey and paperwork everywhere but his eyes never stray far from me. The other girls take notice of this pretty damn quick and suddenly they move from a passive dislike to a very active hatred of me.
They start fucking with my shit.
Diamond moves my dances around so I’m never doing the same nights. At first I think it’s because she wants to get me off of the busy nights to try and mess with my income but then Speck starts writing my shifts up on the menu board when a couple of the regulars complain.
> My shifts are never quiet.
Mike the bouncer starts commenting about all of the extra shifts he’s getting and when I wince at him he grins back at me. “Nah, I gotta pay for braces for my twins. It’s the best fucking thing to happen for my family, girlie.”
I give him a smile in return, he’s always nice to me and he’s never once tried to touch me. Diamond sees the fucking smile and calls out to Mike from the bar, “She’s the worst fucking option if you’re stepping out on Kara, Mikey. Might wanna pick one of the girls whose pussy isn’t so fucking cold.”
I glance around but it’s the first night in a while Tomi hasn’t beaten me here.
I duck my head and keep walking because I don’t wanna get involved with that shit at all. I don’t want rumors to start. I’ve lived through that shit before, I’m never going back to that kind of shit… not if I can help it. So I head out to the back rooms to get ready without telling her to fuck off or to choke, which is exactly what I want to do.
Diamond also picks a new fucking theme for all of the nights I have shifts. They’re not good themes either, it’s all tacky porno shit that means she can dress up in the cheesiest shit. I put my own spin on everything and, though she bitches about it as loud as she fucking can, none of the guys crowding around my stage have a single complaint.
I’m in the locker room in front of one of the mirrors gluing crystals to my face thanks to one of these stupid themes when Speck ducks his head into the locker room and plasters a grin on his face even though he looks like he’s in pain. “You’re at college right? Like, that’s what you’re doing during the day?”
I glue the last crystal to my face, just below my eye and start stashing my makeup back in my bag. “Yeah, why’s that?”
He steps into the room and keeps his eyes on my face. I’m the only stripper he doesn’t eye off and I don’t know what caused the change in him but I’m fucking grateful. I kind of think he wants to be my friend.
“Okay so my kid neighbor is here and she needs help with her homework and I know exactly nothing about geometry. Numbers ain’t my fucking thing. Tomi usually helps her but he’s gotten caught up with club business and she isn’t the type of kid to leave alone for too long, ya know? She’ll get into fucking trouble here and then my ass is on the line for letting her into the club.”