STONE KINGS MOTORCYCLE CLUB: The Complete Collection

by Daphne Loveling

  But the funniest thing was, in spite of all her original complaining about the MC, Seton had gone and fallen in head over heels in love with the president of the Stone Kings, Greyson Stone. The fact that she was now the “old lady” of the president of a club she used to hate was something I never tired of pointing out to her. But all kidding aside, I knew that See was happier than she had ever been in her life, and that Grey Stone was the best thing that had ever happened to her. All you needed to do was spend a few minutes in their company to know that Grey and See just fit. No one who ever saw the way they were together would have any doubts that their relationship was the real deal. And now, after months of trying to get pregnant, Seton was going to have Grey’s babies in a few months. Twins, a boy and a girl. I knew those little ones would be loved and pampered by both of their parents. And I was sort of hoping to be a surrogate auntie.

  It was about as close as I was likely to get to having a family of my own.

  I unlocked my door with a wistful sigh and tried to push away the maudlin thought that had had crept unbidden into my head, but it was no use. As much as I worked to project the image to the outside world that Andi Wagner didn’t need anyone or anything, the truth was that sometimes it was really tough to be alone. My own family, what little there was of it, wasn’t in the picture. I did have a mom, and a younger half-sister, out there somewhere. I even had an aunt here in town that I saw every once in a while when she invited me over for dinner.

  And a stepdad…

  My gut twisted at the thought. No. I wouldn’t think about any of that now. I pushed the thought angrily away, as I had done so many times in the past. I wasn’t going to let myself fall down that rabbit hole, especially after what a good night I’d had. The only time I allowed myself to go to that dark place was when I was up on stage, singing songs I had written that only I knew the stories behind. The music helped me to keep the demons at bay, to compartmentalize feelings and traumas that threatened to pull me down into the abyss if I let them. The rest of the time, I kept the black thoughts locked up in a mental strong box, the key buried deep inside me.

  It was okay, though. I was used to it. I was strong.

  I had to be.

  My mind went back to my best friend, and the life she had made with Grey Stone. I knew she had had her own share of tough times in the past, and I was so happy that she had found peace and contentment. Sometimes, I felt just the smallest hint of jealousy creeping into my heart through my happiness, and I would quickly stop myself from going down that road. Because, even though I had managed to make a pretty decent life for myself, part of me wished that I had what Seton had.

  I wasn’t too sure about the babies part, true. But the rest of it?

  Deep down inside, I wished I could believe that there was someone out there for me that I’d be able to commit to forever. Someone I just knew in my heart, in my soul, was the man for me. Like Seton did with Grey. I’d listen to her talk about him enough times to see that sparkle in her eyes, the adoring tone in her voice when she described something he’s said or done. Seton was all in for Grey. And judging from the way he looked at her whenever I saw them together, he was even crazier about her than she was about him.

  God, I wanted someone to feel that way about me. The problem was, I knew damn well I would never let anyone get that close to me. I had too much to hide, too many secrets that I’d never be able to trust a man, any man, to keep. So instead, I kept mostly to myself, and hooked up with guys I didn’t care about when my vibrator wasn’t enough to keep my hormones at bay.

  And right now, the fourteen-month dry spell I’d been in was making me wish I had a friend with benefits I could call up, to celebrate my successful last show at Hammie’s with a good roll in the hay.

  Unfortunately for me, Cal Greenlee was not a good candidate for the position.

  Light flooded my tiny little apartment as soon as I flipped the switch and threw my bag on the small table in next to the door. It was just a studio, less than six-hundred square feet, with hardly enough room to move around in. But it was the first space I’d ever had all to myself, and it was mine, and that was enough for me.

  Since the apartment was so small, I kept the place meticulously clean, in sharp contrast to the persona of the carefree, live-in-the-moment rocker girl I projected in public. In truth, I was something of a homebody, and this space was my haven, my refuge away from the world.

  Which was why, when I saw the small, unassuming scrap of paper lying on my otherwise bare kitchen table, the hair on the nape of my neck instantly lifted in alarm. For a moment I stared at it, uncomprehending. Then, once my eyes registered what was written on it, I let out a sharp cry of shock as I realized what it was.

  To anyone else, the stub might not have registered immediately as anything important. But that was exactly why it was so frightening. That one small piece of paper sent a clear and unmistakeable message to me. It told me that all of the little things I’d been noticing as out of place in my studio over the last few weeks hadn’t been my imagination. That in fact, someone had been in my apartment in my absence tonight, and probably many times in recent weeks.

  With a trembling hand, I reached down to pick up the scrap, staring at the logo I knew only too well: It was the Hammie’s logo. The one they printed on all the tickets to the shows they charged an entrance fee for.

  Below the logo, I read the words printed on the ripped stub of the ticket, a pit of dread opening in my stomach.

  Hammie’s Bar presents: The Nopes, with special guests The Creepers.

  Whoever had been in my apartment had also been at the Nopes show at Hammie’s tonight. They had been watching me as I performed with my band on that stage.

  And they wanted me to know it.

  3

  Cal

  CAL

  Grey had gotten back late Saturday night from his trip to Las Cruces to meet with the president of their chapter. I got word from Trig that the prez was calling a special meeting of church the next day in the afternoon. I spent Sunday morning doing some shit around my place and working on my bike, then headed out to the clubhouse in time to throw back a beer or two and hang with the brothers before it was time for business.

  I was curious to hear what Grey had to say, and what his meet-up with Slayer, the president of the Las Cruces charter, had been about. As we filed into the chapel and took our places around the table, I noticed he didn’t look particularly out of sorts. I took as a good sign, but Grey was one notoriously tough to read motherfucker, so it was sometimes hard to get a bead on his mood.

  The gavel banged, and the meeting was called to order. There was the usual discussion of nuts and bolts of the club, finances, reports on different ongoing “business” ventures we had, et cetera. When all that was finished, Grey took the floor and spoke.

  “Wanted to give you an update on my meet-up with Slayer,” he began. “He called me up because he’s seen a spike in outside drug dealing in Las Cruces similar to what we’ve been seeing in Lupine the last couple of months. His sources and mine agree it’s not the Ravagers, in either case.”

  Grey looked around the room as we digested this. Though the information that Las Cruces was dealing with an increase in drug was new to us, the club already knew about Lupine’s similar spike. The local chief of police, Track Atkins, had come to us a few weeks ago to discuss the problem.

  The chief had an understanding with Grey and with the Stone Kings in general, born out of mutual benefit. The chief’s operating budget didn’t allow him to hire enough officers to police the town adequately. So, in exchange for him looking the other way at some of our more suspicious activity, we kept our illegal shit outside the city limits and also provided a certain amount of “enforcement” of a kind that the Lupine PD couldn’t engage in without risking investigation if they were found out.

  After a moment, Grey continued. “The profile of how this is going in both places seems pretty similar. They started to see the uptick around the same ti
me we did. The primary targets seem to be younger kids. Some as young as middle school.”

  “Christ almighty,” swore Trig. “Who the fuck targets little kids?”

  “Pieces of shit who want easy pickings,” Levi growled, his jaw tensing.

  “Pieces of shit with a goddamn death wish,” Trig corrected him. A loud chorus of agreement echoed him. The Stone Kings weren’t exactly angels, true. We’d done our share of running drugs north of the border and guns toward the south. But one thing we did not do was shit where we lived. And we’d be damned if we let anyone else shit where we lived, either.

  “Well, these dickbags can’t be that hard to catch,” Repo remarked. “Anyone who goes after kids has gotta be little more than a goddamn coward.”

  “You’d think,” Grey agreed. “Except from what I’m gathering from Slayer, they’re doing a pretty good job of covering their tracks. They use kids they recruit to go into the schools to sell. The kids are paid just enough to keep them loyal, and they get them to start using, too, so they’re not gonna stop or their supply will get cut off. But the kids don’t know anything about who they’re dealing with. Their suppliers don’t give them any names, use different burner phones to text them a code word. The kids can’t even identify them physically that well ‘cause they meet up in places where it’s usually too dark to see them.”

  Moose, our Enforcer, swore. “Can’t they do a set-up? A sting? Send the kid in with some backup to sweep in later and grab the suppliers?” He cracked his knuckles. “I’m pretty sure we could get ‘em to talk.”

  Grey shrugged. “Seems like so far, whoever it is has enough eyes on the kids to avoid that. Apparently, the cops have picked up a couple of the kids who were dealing in Las Cruces, but their contact or contacts went silent as soon as they did.” Like our club here in Lupine, the chapter in Las Cruces had a mostly decent, hands-off relationship with their local police chief.

  “Goddamn,” Pig muttered angrily. “Fuckin’ middle school. I got a kid that age.”

  “We can’t afford to let shit get any worse in Lupine. Gotta nip it in the bud,” Grey announced. “The PD ain’t gonna do jack shit about it. They don’t have the manpower, and most of ‘em aren’t good for much more than writing a goddamn speeding ticket, anyway. So,” he looked around the table. “Keep your eyes open, and beat the trees for any intel you can get on whoever these cocksuckers are and where they’re from.”

  A murmur of assent went around the table, and the meeting ended.

  After church, I followed Grey over to his place on my bike. The two of us had been doing some work building a deck on the back of the house that he and Seton had bought recently. He was doing the deck mostly for See, to give her a nice place to sit and relax as her pregnancy progressed. We pulled up to their place and my sister came out of the house just as we were parking the bikes.

  “Hey, boys,” she greeted us as she walked down the driveway to us. At six months pregnant, Seton was just now really starting to show. The farther along she got, the more I had to admit she had this crazy radiance about her. I always thought it was bullshit what they said about pregnant women glowing, but at least in her case, it was totally true. Maybe it was just happiness, I don’t know, but she just looked… serene. Calm. Settled, in a way I never remember her looking before. It was weird, but also pretty cool. It did my heart good to see my sister so happy.

  Grey and I went out back and started work where we had left off a couple days before, and Seton came out periodically to chat with us and bring us water and beer so we didn’t overheat. It was the kind of work I really liked to do: physical, but not too complicated, and with pretty immediate results. It was satisfying.

  A few hours and beers later, the deck was finished except for staining it. See had a doctor’s appointment the next day and Grey was planning to go with her, so I told them I’d come back and put the first coat on while they were out. See invited me to stay for dinner, but I was pretty damn grimy from all the work and didn’t want to track it into her house, so I took a rain check, and she walked around the house with me to see me off.

  “Thanks again for all the help, Cal,” she said as we strolled toward the bike. Her arm went around my waist and I gave her a one-arm hug, being careful not to get her too dirty.

  “No problem,” I replied, and I meant it. “A couple coats of stain and she’ll be ready to go.”

  She smiled at me. “It’s nice to have you around more, Cal. It’s nice to have a brother again.”

  Seton and I didn’t have much in the way of family ties. Our dad was dead, killed in a drunken altercation when we were kids. Our mom had remarried and lived out in Scottsdale with her dentist husband, Darryl. Ma seemed to prefer to pretend like she didn’t have kids most of the time, so she was mostly out of the picture. We had an older brother, too — Reed — but neither Seton or I had seen or heard from him in years. Until pretty recently the two of us hadn’t been particularly close, either. That was mostly my fault, since I had been more interested in chasing pussy and raising hell to pay much attention to much else. But I was trying to make up for my old, selfish ways, especially now that she was gonna be a mom. And on days like today, it was worth it to see the happiness on Seton’s face as she watched Grey and me work together.

  We had reached my bike, and I hopped on and started it up. “Make sure to leave the garage unlocked tomorrow, so I can access the stain and brushes,” I called out over the engine.

  “Will do. I’ll leave the key to the house under the back mat, too.” Seton leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. “Thanks, Uncle Cal,” she smiled at me, placing a protective hand over her stomach.

  I gave her a finger-wave as I pulled out of the driveway and headed the bike toward home.

  Huh. Uncle Cal.

  I hadn’t really thought about it like that before.

  The next day, I was back at it over at Seton and Grey’s house, staining the deck with no company but a crappy old boom box I found in the garage. It was a beautiful fucking day for it — just hot enough for the sun to feel good on your skin. I had removed my shirt to take advantage of the rays, and was working in just a pair of old jeans and some busted up flip flops.

  I found an old classic rock station that was belting out Stones and Zeppelin and shit like that, and turned up the volume just loud enough that it was probably pissing off the neighbors a little. It was the perfect music to listen to while doing this kind of work. I was making so much progress I thought I was pretty sure I’d manage to get the whole thing done before See and Grey got back.

  In fact, at first I thought the noise I heard behind me when I was on my back staining underneath the deck was See herself.

  “Hey, you’re back early,” I said to the pair of female legs that approached. A shriek of surprise greeted me as the legs jumped backward.

  “Holy shit!” a voice that was definitely not Seton’s said. “You scared the hell out of me, Grey!”

  “I’m not Grey,” I grunted. I set down the paint brush and slid out from under the deck. “And apparently, you’re not See.”

  Looking down at me, her eyes still wide with the scare I’d given her, was Andi. In a pair of cut-off shorts that made her look like she had legs that went all the way to her neck.

  My dick thickened in my pants and I fought like hell to tear my eyes away from looking at them.

  “Hey,” I repeated.

  “Hey yourself,” she said in a shaky voice. “What the hell are you doing down there?”

  “Lying in wait to scare unsuspecting women.” I flashed her a cocky grin and hauled myself to my feet, wiping my hands on my jeans. “And staining the deck while I wait.”

  “Oh.” Her eyes flicked over at the structure, examining it. “That’s right. Seton mentioned you and Grey were building one. It looks good.”

  “Thanks.” Even though I was trying not to let my dick do my thinking for me, I took advantage of her moment of distraction to look her over. Besides the shorts that showed off her
tanned, shapely legs, Andi was wearing a simple light pink T-shirt and a pair of dark pink flip flops that showed off freshly painted red toenails. Her only adornment was an intricate pattern of tattoos on both biceps. Andi always dressed pretty simply, with a minimum of jewelry and other shit like that. The end result was there was nothing to draw your eyes away from how fucking hot she was. My dick started to respond favorably again to the sight, and I forced my eyes back away from her before it became obvious I was getting hard for her.

  Grabbing the T-shirt I had thrown off onto a lawn chair, I used it to wipe the sweat from my face and upper body. Andi turned back to me, her eyes following the T-shirt and coming to rest for a moment on my bare chest. She reddened and quickly looked away. “So, um, where are Seton and Grey?” she asked, studying the deck again.

  “They’re at a doc appointment,” I explained. “Sorry if you rang the doorbell. I can’t hear anything out here.” The radio was still blaring, and I reached over and turned it off.

  “Oh.” Andi looked more crestfallen than I would have expected, and for the first time I noticed that she seemed kind of agitated. “I see.”

  “You okay?” I asked. “Is there something I can help you out with?”

  Andi opened her mouth and then shut it. Then she did it again. “No,” she said finally in a small voice.

  I frowned. “Are you sure?” I took a step closer. She half-flinched, and crossed her arms.

  “Yeah, I’m sure.” But her voice didn’t seem sure at all.

  I should have just let it go, I guess. After all, she hadn’t come to see me. But there was just something in her tone, and in the lost expression on her face, that kind of made my gut twist. Her normal brassy bravado was absent, and she seemed really upset about something. I wanted to help her, even though I knew I probably couldn’t. But I wanted the chance to. Somehow, I wished she would feel comfortable telling me what was wrong, so I could at least try to make it better, somehow. It was a strange feeling, and pretty pretty damn new, for me. Most of the time I just let people live their own lives, and I lived mine. No attachments, no obligations, except for the club. And more recently, my sister.