STONE KINGS MOTORCYCLE CLUB: The Complete Collection

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STONE KINGS MOTORCYCLE CLUB: The Complete Collection Page 2

by Daphne Loveling


  Andi said as she watched me read my text. “I’m off in an hour. You want to come back to my place and hang out for a while?” she offered.

  I looked at her affectionately. Andi was great about stuff like this. She would go to the ends of the earth for a friend in need. “Nah, it’s okay,” I said. “Maybe my roommate can come get me.”

  Andi shrugged. “No problem.” Probably sensing that I didn’t want to talk about my Nate problems at the moment, she nodded and headed down to the other end of the bar to help a customer.

  As I watched her walk away, I remembered belatedly that my roommate Carly wasn’t home tonight. Carly was a hair and makeup artist, and she had some gig going on in Denver’s Art District on Santa Fe. She had done the makeup for one of the artists whose gallery showing was opening tonight, and the artist had invited her to the show to thank her. Since her family lived just outside of Denver, she had elected to go there after the opening. So, assuming I ever got home tonight, I would have the place to myself. It figured that for once I had some privacy, and wouldn’t have anyone to take advantage of it with. Shit.

  Well, I supposed I could wait until Andi got off work, after all. I knew she would drive me back to my place. I’d just have to hear a lecture about Nate as the price I’d pay for the ride, because I knew she wouldn’t be able to avoid saying something. “I told you so” person or not, I knew that Andi was worried about me. I supposed I should be grateful someone was.

  Were all men this unreliable and ridiculous? I wondered as I sat there sipping my drink. I hadn’t had all that much experience — my entire sexual history tallied up to the astounding number of three whole men. But every one of them had been kind of… not there… in some way. One was my high school boyfriend, who blushed furiously when he asked me out for the first time, and with whom I lost my virginity silently in his parents’ basement one afternoon. The second was my boyfriend during my sophomore year of college. We hooked up midway through spring term, and seemed to only see each other when he came to my dorm room for Saturday night booty calls. We broke up at the end of the school year, and since I had had to drop out of school for lack of tuition money, I hadn’t seen him again. And now, Nate. Honestly, the worst part was, Nate was kind of the best of the bunch. Is this what I have to look forward to? I wondered. Just a long string of unfulfilling, boring half-relationships? Maybe I just needed to get myself a bunch of cats and call it a day.

  Maybe there was just something about me that just attracted irresponsible men. Certainly, my own family life was no model of happy relationships. My older brother Reed… well, who knew where Reed was. He had been my idol when I was growing up, but now… He had left home at sixteen and had made himself scarce ever since. He would be twenty-eight now, and I hadn’t seen him in at least five years. Rumor had it that he was living somewhere north of Denver, and even that he had done time on some sort of assault charge, but I had no address or phone number for him.

  And now my younger brother, Cal, was looking like he wouldn’t turn out much better.

  I had never seen Cal care about anything, frankly. He had always been irresponsible, and had a streak of resistance to authority that ran deep as a river through him. He had spent almost more time in juvie than out of it as a teenager. He had graduated high school last year — just barely — in Scottsdale, where my mom lived now. After he graduated, he came back here to Lupine for some reason, and had seemed content to just party and work menial jobs. I hardly ever saw him except when he needed a favor. Cal couldn’t be relied on for anything. He took nothing seriously, and ducked responsibility like it was a disease.

  Until now, ironically. Until the Stone Kings Motorcycle Club.

  Ever since he had gotten the leather vest with the patches that said “prospect” on the back (“It’s called a cut, not a vest. And they’re called rockers,” I could hear Cal correcting me in my head), he had gone from being a wild, reckless kid with a defiant streak to a cocky, self-important ass. Nothing else seemed to matter to him but the Stone Kings MC. Every time I had talked to him in the last few months — not that that was very often — he would respond only evasively to any questions I asked him. His only focus was getting into the MC as a fully patched member, and he couldn’t be bothered to give a damn about anything else. Certainly not anything as mundane as coming through for his only sister, the only family member who currently seemed to care about him or his whereabouts.

  He was clearly on some sort of mission tonight for the motorcycle club he was trying to join. I couldn’t see that going anywhere good. We hadn’t had an actual conversation about what the hell kind of business he was doing for the Stone Kings. Every time I had tried to bring it up, he waved me off, saying the club was a brotherhood, and he had to prove himself so they knew they could rely on him. That the club wasn’t what I thought it was.

  How the hell did he know what I thought it was? I knew one thing about it. The only thing that mattered: it was a member of that very same MC that had killed my father.

  I couldn’t figure out why Cal didn’t seem to care about that. But I never got the chance to ask him before he was off to do some job or other for them. Hell, he didn’t even have his own motorcycle yet. Hence why he had my car tonight.

  I grabbed my glass abruptly and took a long drink, savoring the feeling of cool, flavorless liquid and searing carbonation burning my throat. Enough thinking about all of this for one night, I told myself harshly. I wasn’t going to solve my problems sitting here brooding. I stood up and took my empty glass with me as I walked back behind the bar. I grabbed the apron I had stowed on the shelf and put it around my waist.

  “What are you doing?” Andi asked, glancing over at me from the cash register.

  “I’ll help you close the bar if you’ll drive me home afterwards.”

  Her eyes widened. “Nice! You’re on! It’ll be sweet to be out of here a little earlier. I can use the extra sleep. Early practice tomorrow.” Andi was a budding singer and songwriter, and performed at various venues around town with a local band called the Nopes.

  A couple of hours later, Andi dropped me off at my apartment. I noticed wryly as I walked up the front walk that Nate hadn’t bothered to drop off my car. “You sure you don’t want to come home with me?” Andi called again from the open passenger window. “I know it’s late, but just in case you don’t want to be alone…”

  “I’m fine, Andi. Really.” I smiled reassuringly at her. “Don’t worry. I’ll see you Saturday.” We often worked together on weekend shifts.

  “Sounds good. Have a good one, chica!” As she rolled up the window of her dark blue Kia, I heard the sound of the radio being cranked up. She put the car in gear and drove off, head bobbing ferociously to Pink. I grinned in spite of myself and walked up the sidewalk to my building.

  The apartment was dark when I got in, so I knew that Carly hadn’t changed her mind and come back home after the gallery opening. She was an unapologetic night owl, so no way would she be asleep yet. I dumped my purse on the chair beside the door, flipped on the light and looked around. Despite the late hour and the long work day, I wasn’t tired at all.

  Aimlessly, I walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. After digging around for a minute, I found a half-eaten pint of cookies and cream ice cream. It seemed like the sign that a comfort food and movie session was in order, so I sat down to watch one of my favorite old movies: City Lights, by Charlie Chaplin. I discovered it my freshman year at college, when the campus had scheduled a silent movie series, and I must have watched it over a dozen times since then.

  I sat quietly watching the movie with its strangely affecting music, laughing at the funny parts, and crying like a baby at the end, when the little tramp’s love interest finally realizes that he has given up everything to make her happy.

  2

  Grey

  It felt good to be home. Mostly.

  “Grey!” my VP, Trigger, shouted as I walked through the door of the clubhouse bar. About half
a dozen members of the Stone Kings MC turned toward me. “Fuck, brother, we didn’t expect you back for three, four more days,” Trigger continued.

  “Yeah, well, I couldn’t leave the club in the hands of you bunch of pussies, now could I?” I snarled. A chorus of raucous laughter greeted my words.

  Trigger came up and gave me a big bear hug, clapping me on the back, and I returned the favor. A few other members of the Stone Kings gathered around me and called their hellos: Levi, Repo, Tiny… A few of the club whores were around, as well, and one or two nodded and winked their open invitations at me. The men and I exchanged a few minutes of pleasantries as I got caught up on news of this member’s pregnant wife, that one’s recently sick kid. Eventually, the crowd dissipated a bit, and I turned back toward Trig and pulled him aside.

  “How you doin’ brother?” he grinned as he stepped back to take a look at me. “The cabin treat you good?”

  “Yeah. It was fine.” I nodded at his beer. “Let me get one of those and let’s you and me talk about what’s gone on in my absence.”

  I walked over to the bartender of the moment, a peroxided blond named Tammy, and grabbed a bottle for myself and another one for Trig. “Here you go, Grey,” she said, making sure to lean way over so I could see down her shirt. Those tits were fucking fantastic, I knew from personal experience. Of course, they should be, as much as she probably spent on them. I smiled. “Thanks, Tam.” She winked back.

  I turned and gave Trig a chin nod, motioning him over to a private table at the back of the bar.

  “What’s up?” he asked as he slid into a chair. He leaned back and took a long swig. “Like I said, we weren’t expecting you back so soon.”

  “Yeah, well, I got bored,” I retorted. Not exactly true, but it may as well stand in for the truth. I’d been gone for close to three weeks, and the truth was, sitting there alone with my thoughts up in the cabin had started getting the better of me. Eventually I figured it was better to get back here and face the music. My head was on straight enough, I guessed, in spite of what had happened. At least I hoped so. It had to be.

  “So,” I continued. “Any more news since we last talked?” Trigger had phoned me two days ago with a short update.

  “Nope,” he answered. “Nothing much has changed since you left.” He laughed, a short, dry sound. “Hammer’s still dead. And the boys took care of Jethro, just like you ordered.”

  I winced at the mention of Hammer, but nodded. “Good. All the evidence been disposed of?”

  Trig grinned wryly. “You know it.”

  Jethro had been one of ours. At least, we had thought so. That son of a bitch betrayed each and every one of us. He was the one responsible for Hammer’s death. That piece of shit fucking ran from the scene instead of staying to fight with a brother. He left Hammer to fucking die.

  I had been the one to let Jethro into the club when he patched out of my uncle Lawless’s club in Reno, and I had beaten myself up for it every goddamn day since Hammer was killed. Hell, I not only let him in, I had lobbied for it, and even convinced a couple of the other brothers when they weren’t sure about him. Ultimately, I had betrayed the club’s trust by pulling in someone I shouldn’t have. I had let my judgment be clouded because he came recommended by a family member. I was fucking bound and determined to make up for that. I swore to myself that I would not let my judgment be clouded ever again.

  Going forward, I knew that what happened in the coming weeks and months was crucial. It was one thing to take Jethro out. That much was necessary, but it wasn’t enough. As club president, it was absolutely fucking essential that my brothers knew I was not afraid to take out the most exacting vengeance for a traitor in our midst. To show them this would never happen again, and that no one — no one — was above the law of the Stone Kings. Before I let anyone else in this fucking club again, I would be goddamn sure of them. No matter what.

  “So,” I continued, “We any closer to finding out who killed Hammer?” Shit. Hammer. My best friend. More a brother to me than my own brother. Just thinking of it put a load of ice in my stomach. It had been a month, and I still couldn’t believe he was gone.

  “Still pretty sure it was the Cannibals. Nothing has happened since you left, though. We still got no real proof.” Trig took a long pull of his beer. “But who else would it be?”

  I thought about it. The Cannibals in theory were our biggest potential problem at the moment, since their territory butted up against ours. If they wanted to make a play for, it they could be the biggest threat to our arms territory. But things had been relatively calm on the Cannibals front for a while now. It didn’t make sense that all of a sudden this would have boiled up to the surface. Unless something was going on that I didn’t know about. Unless there had been some sort of plan in place for longer than I had realized, and it was just now starting to show itself.

  When Hammer had been killed, my first instinct had been to end anyone and everyone who could have had something to do with it. Problem was, we had no idea who that was. That was part of the reason why I took off for a bit: to cool my head. I knew Trig could handle the club in my absence, and I knew he’d call me immediately if any shit started to go down. I could make it here from the cabin in less than an hour. I’d spent my weeks up there trying to get some distance, to think it all through. I still hadn’t come up with anything. Which is why I’d come back. Now that my anger had cooled, it was time to pursue those responsible with a cool, clear head.

  “Yeah, okay. I’m with you that I can’t figure out who else but the Cannibals it could be. But I wanna be sure. Absolutely fuckin’ sure.”

  “You and me both, prez. We’ve been doin’ some recon while you were gone. Not much to report, but Levi and Repo can tell you what we got.” He glanced over at the bar and nodded toward them.

  I took a deep breath and let it out. “Okay. We’re gonna need to have church tomorrow to talk more about what to do about this. As for tonight, though, I’m in the mood to have a little fun.” That was bullshit. I was in no fucking mood to party. But I figured the guys needed to see me, there with them. They needed to see that I had straightened out my head and was ready to go. That the loss of my best friend hadn’t made me weak. Being the president of an MC was about more than leading. It was about showing no fear in the face of danger.

  “I hear you, brother,” Trigger agreed. “We’ll set up some shots in Hammer’s honor, and get this party started.”

  “Do it,” I nodded. “By the way, how the new prospects lookin’?”

  Trig shrugged. “Dunno. They look like fuckin’ puppies, they’re so young. The one, the guy who looks like Frankenstein, I guess he’s okay. He doesn’t say much. But he doesn’t bitch no matter what you ask him to do, either, so that’s a plus.”

  “Frankenstein’s monster,” I said.

  “What?”

  “It ain’t Frankenstein. It’s Frankenstein’s monster. Frankenstein was the scientist.”

  “Fuck you, Grey.”

  “Hey, I can’t help it if you’re an ignorant bag of shit. Go read a goddamn book.”

  Trig twisted open the second bottle of beer he’d brought with him and chucked the cap with me. “I got no time to read a book. I’m knee deep in pussy, brother.”

  I laughed. The first real laugh in a week. God, it was good to be home after all. “What about the other prospect?”

  “Cal? He’s okay. He’s full of shit, but he’s a funny dude. Got his eye on half the club whores already,” Trig grinned.

  “He better slow his ass down,” I remarked with a frown. I finished my beer with a final swallow. “He’s got more important things to do than chase tail.”

  “Brother, ain’t no more important thing than chasin’ tail,” Trig corrected. “Besides, it ain’t exactly ‘chasin’’, now is it? Most of these girls’ll give it up for anyone in the club, no problem. ‘Sides, Cal’s not a bad-lookin’ dude. Most of the time when he’s lookin’, they’re lookin’ right back.”

&nb
sp; “Good lookin’ is he?” I cocked my head. “Maybe you want a go at him yourself?”

  “Brother, you better watch yourself if you don’t wanna get cracked over the skull with this bottle,” Trig warned, but he was smirking as he said it. Trig could give as good as he got, but he could take a joke.

  I looked out at the bar as more of the brothers wandered in. “Hey, Tammy!” Trig yelled. “Set up some shots for everybody. We’re gonna drink to Hammer’s memory!”

  “Will do, Trig!” Tammy yelled back. A chorus of yells followed. Time to get the party started.

  “Well, we’ll see about these prospects,” I said, looking at my VP as I stood up. “I’m gonna be ridin’ the hell out of ‘em. We can’t afford to take any more chances. After what happened.”

  Trig looked me in the eye. “Agreed. ”

  “All right, enough talk. Let’s party. I need to shake this road dust offa me.”

  “Yeah,” Trig said with a shit-eating grin. “Let’s go see how many shots the prospects can take before they puke their guts out.”

  3

  Seton

  The next morning, I woke up on the couch with an empty ice cream container sitting on the coffee table. Next to it was my phone, and I checked it to find another text from Cal, saying my car was in the parking lot of a local bar owned by the MC. I actually laughed, it was so ridiculous. I supposed I should be grateful that he actually included directions on how to get there. The location of the freaking Stone Kings Motorcycle Club was not exactly on my radar, and I was pretty sure it wouldn’t be on Google Maps, either.

  I was feeling pretty sorry for myself, but it was Friday and I had most of the day off, so I decided I needed to take advantage and try to get some things done before my evening shift. Even though I didn’t normally eat breakfast, I made myself a plate of eggs and hash browns to fortify myself. I even brewed half a pot of strong coffee, which I drank while sitting on the window seat in the living room and staring out at the street. It was early summer, and school had just gotten out, so of course there were little kids riding around on bikes and yelling crazily, letting off all the steam of the school year in one go. It was fun watching them. I kind of remembered being like that myself, but it was so long ago. Every carefree moment of my childhood seemed to have come screeching to a halt when my dad was killed the summer I was nine years old.

 

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