by Brook Wilder
“Thank you, thank you,” Rex was saying, a grin on his face. “I just hope you aren’t looking to string me up in a month or so.”
“Nah we’ll just take you out back and shoot you.” Corey grinned, throwing his arm around my shoulder. “And we’ll let Kris do it.”
Rex looked down at me and the warmth from his eyes radiated into my body, a promise of what was to come. “I couldn’t think of a better way to go then.”
I grinned back at him, giving him a nod in return. I could never hurt him, he knew that. I loved him too much to ever harm him.
Corey gave my shoulders a squeeze before he moved on, surrounding himself with a bevy of club girls. I was one of those girls, though my luck had changed somewhat since Rex and I had become an item. He had brought me here, into this family, when I needed it the most and hadn’t given up on me no matter how many times I’d wanted to give up on myself.
For that, he was my hero.
“Come on,” Rex said, setting down his beer. “I want to show you something.”
I arched a brow but allowed him to pull me down the hall, laughing at the catcalls and hoots that followed us. He moved us into the office and shut the door, leaning against it, a lazy grin on his face.
“What’s so important you couldn’t do it in the room?” I teased, feeling my heart flutter at the sight of him.
The grin remained on his face as he advanced, until I was trapped between his hard body and the desk.
“You know I love you, right?”
I ran a finger down his shoulder, a giddiness coming over me every time he told me that. “You might have mentioned it a time or two.” I didn’t know what was going to come out of his mouth and suddenly I was nervous about the possibilities. What if he proposed tonight? We’d been together two years, longer than most couples in this line of business, and it was naturally the next step.
Was I ready?
He laughed, brushing his lips over my forehead. “You are absolutely the hardest woman to get a rise out of. I mean, could you at least melt against me or something?”
I pushed at his shoulder until he stood straight, dropping to my knees with a saucy smile on my face. I didn’t know what he wanted to do tonight, but I knew what I wanted to do. “How about I show you, Mr. President, what I can do?”
“Kris, wait,” he protested as I reached for his belt buckle, his hands on mine to still them.
But I cupped him and he groaned, his hands finding their way to my hair and I knew I had won.
Chapter 7
Rex
I gazed down at Kris as she slept, soaking in the stillness of the pre-dawn morning before I rode out. I wanted nothing more than to climb back into bed, pull her against me, and hold on for dear life.
But I couldn’t. My life had changed drastically over the last forty-eight hours and now I had a club of fifty strong, looking to me for guidance. I was responsible for their lives, their families. I was responsible for negotiating the right deals to push the Jesters into the next year, to keep the club afloat.
There was no time for me to focus on my personal life, or Kris for that matter.
Sighing inwardly, I forced myself to turn away, walking out of the bedroom and into the living room. She wouldn’t understand now, but hopefully after a few months, there would be time for me to fix any issues this caused between us. I wanted her to hang around. I wanted her to be by my side, but not necessarily in the Jester clubhouse. That was no place for a woman, especially one I was looking to marry.
No, she needed to be far away from any danger headed our way. Kris was no biker. She was a strong woman, that was for sure, but she didn’t belong amongst the rough group I was now in charge of.
I had to keep her safe. She’d been through enough.
I eased myself out of the house and walked to my bike, my steps heavy. There was a shit load of things for me to learn, for me to pick up where Harold had left off. I had deals to broker, members to initiate, a council to form. Now that I was president, I had to choose between picking my own council or keeping the ones already in those positions. Two of the council members had already informed me they had no intentions of holding onto their seats.
I didn’t know if that was a sign of how they felt about me, or if they were just ready to let go of some of the influence they had over the club.
Firing up the bike, I backed it out of the drive and roared down the street, my mind on Kris.
She would stick around. She was tough and understood how important this was to me.
She would understand.
Chapter 8
Rex
“But I do not understand why your former president didn’t pursue this. Why are you interested now?”
I stared at the cartel representative, Cesar Gutierrez and the tattoo of the Virgin Mary on his neck. “Because times are changing,” I said. “And we need to broker a deal with the cartel.”
While I trusted the man as far as I could throw him, Gutierrez was still the Pacifica Cartel’s spokesman on US soil through his own organization: Los Aztecas. The Pacifica Cartel was looking for weapons, weapons that could support their efforts beyond the Mexican border, and as luck would have it, I knew a guy who could provide those weapons through the Jesters.
In exchange, I was looking to get the club a shit load of money to keep us in the black, even if it was cartel money. It was a risky venture, but one that could pay off big for us if this asshole would quit dicking around and agree to my terms.
Gutierrez leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming along the scarred table. “A change in hands always makes for interesting new exchanges. The cartel is very interested in what you will do for your club, what your previous president was refusing to do. But you haven’t answered my question. Why?”
I let out a low growl, knowing he was trying to bait me somehow. First thing this morning, I had chosen my council. Corey Steele, Seth Owens, and Damian Gibson had replaced three older members of the Jesters, members who had served Harold faithfully over the last twenty years. I hadn’t forced them out; they chose to step down, wanting to end their time alongside their president.
Now my three new council members sat at the table with me, looking bored but I knew they were paying attention. It had taken Gutierrez three hours to show his ugly face, giving us plenty of time to talk over what we wanted to do.
What was good for the club.
“Listen,” I said, clenching my jaw. “Either we are gonna make a deal or we aren’t.”
The door opened and I swore silently. Gun Jesus walked into the room, holding his arms out like he was Christ himself.
“My friends.” He said. “The Good Book tells us: do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by this some have entertained angels without knowing it.”
Gun Jesus was a well-known scripture-quoting arms dealer who supplied mostly to me, and through me to practically the rest of the southwest. Whatever you wanted, the man provided. Full automatics, assault rifles, machine guns, hell even the odd rocket launcher on occasions. Eccentric didn’t even begin to describe him. Now, depending on who you heard it from, he either went nuts when the world didn’t end in 2012, or drank too much ayahuasca one night and ended up wandering the desert, convinced that he’d found God.
Whatever he found, it made him unforgettable.
“Well this is unexpected,” Gutierrez said, a broad smile on his face. “I must say, if this is an effort to impress me, gentlemen Consider my expectations exceeded.”
“Rex, what the hell are you doing?” Corey whispered to me under his breath.
“You’ll just have to trust me.”
“Back to business then,” Gutierrez cut Gun Jesus off and turned his eyes back on me. “The cartel wants everything that our esteemed friend can get. Whatever they ask for, there will be no questions.”
“No,” I stated firmly. “All requests come through us and us only. We’re opening the door to this mark
et, but we’re not giving you the keys.”
His gaze narrowed. “Now, how do I know I can trust you to get us what we want when we need it?”
“Think of this as the price of business.” I said, settling back in my chair. “I’m putting my neck out here, not the cartel’s. All I’m asking for is a fair price in exchange for what Gun Jesus can provide.”
“And provide he shall.” Gun Jesus announced, a wide grin on his face. “As the Good Book says: my God will fully supply your every need according to his glorious riches.”
“This is a fucking circus.” Seth wiped a hand over his face.
I ignored him, and stared at Gutierrez. “Do we have a deal?”
He motioned for one of his followers to come over, bringing with him a bottle of tequila. “We will drink on it.”
Chapter 9
Rex
One drink turned into ten, and before I knew it, Corey was helping me to his truck, my head buzzing with tequila and the mellow high of Gutierrez’s special cigars.
“Rex,” he was saying. “You are wasted.”
“I’m fine,” I slurred as we reached his truck. “I got it.”
“Yeah right,” Corey laughed as he pulled on the handle of the passenger door. “Get in. I’m taking you home.”
I climbed in, the world tilting sideways when I fell onto the seat.
“Just don’t puke in my truck,” Corey said as he cranked the engine.
I got myself upright, leaning my head back on the seat. “I can’t believe I just did that.”
“Yeah me neither,” Corey chuckled, pulling away from the clubhouse. “What does Kris think about it?”
His words penetrated into my brain, bringing on a moment of clarity. What did Kris think about it? She had all but wanted to suck my cock the other night and I had pushed her away.
Well tonight, it would be different. “I fucking love her.”
“Yeah we all know,” Corey snickered as he turned down the street. “I just hope she doesn’t blame us for your shitfaced behavior. I don’t want to be in her crosshairs.”
“I’m fucking fine,” I grumbled, rubbing a hand over my hair. I needed a cold shower, a good fuck, and a bed.
Corey helped me out of the truck and up the stairs, supporting my weight since my legs quit working. The door opened as soon as we hit the first step and Kris stared down at us.
She looked fucking gorgeous. “Hey babe,” I said, giving her a lopsided smile.
Kris crossed her arms over her chest. “He’s drunk.”
“And pretty baked.” Corey made a vague motion of smoking a joint as he walked me into the house.
“It was only one,” I argued as he dumped me into the chair. Damn good one at that.
“Thanks for bringing him home,” Kris was saying to Corey. Corey gave her a nod and exited the house.
As soon as the door shut, she rounded on me.“Really, Rex?”
“We were celebrating,” I forced out, closing my eyes because the room was spinning. That and I couldn’t feel my damn arms now.
“Celebrating what?”
I cracked open an eye. “We inked a deal. With the cartel. We will get out of this shithole, babe. I’m gonna buy you a real house. Give you the life you always deserved.”
Her expression changed. “Did you say the cartel?”
Feeling smug, I laced my fingers over my stomach. “Hell yeah. Harold would’ve never done something like this.” I solidified the club’s future with this deal, giving us a leg up on any competition that might decide to try to take over our territory.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Rex.” Kris said, her voice breaking into my fuzzy thoughts. “The cartel? Do you know what they do to people?”
I frowned, some of my buzz instantly drained and my eyes opened wide. “They are giving us a lot of money, Kris. Money we need.”
She threw her hands up in the air, looking quite pissed off at me. “Who cares, Rex? The cartel, they are not the ones to be brokering deals with. Do you know what they will do to you if they decide you are no longer needed? What they’ll do to me?”
“This club is dangerous business,” I shot back, pushing out of the chair. “You gotta take chances. I had to take a chance.”
She reached for my arm, forcing me to look at her. “But not like this. The cartel takes girls across the border and sells them, Rex. Why would you want to partner with someone who snatches girls away from their families?”
Her fingers dug into my arm and I shook her off, heading toward the fridge. “That’s not my business.”
“Not your business? Not your business? You’re the fucking president, goddamn it!”
I whirled around, gripping the fridge to keep from falling over as the room kept spinning even though I’d stopped. “This conversation is done. This club business is mine to worry about, not yours.”
Kris stared at me. “Of course it is. That’s all you care about now. Club business. Where do I fit into your new life, Rex? Am I just another club girl for you to fuck? Where do I have a say so in any of this? In anything that matters?”
“You don’t.” I bit out, and she reeled back like I had hit her. “I don’t want you sticking yourself into any fucking business that has to do with the club. You’re a club girl pretending to be a biker. You aren’t a Jester, Kris. You fucking remember that.”
She swallowed visibly and her face crumpled with hurt. I didn’t care. I didn’t want her in danger, even if that meant saying things she didn’t want to hear. She didn’t need to be associated with the club and worry about all the shit stressing me out.
She was right about one thing. Playing with the cartel was a dangerous game and if she was part of it, she would be targeted.
I couldn’t fucking take that.
Her lip was trembling. “You mean that?”
I gritted my teeth. I couldn’t stop the words even if I wanted to. “I’m saying you are not part of my damn club.” I still loved her, but things had just become complicated with the new deal, things happening so fast that I couldn’t keep up. Adding one more voice to the mix, besides all the other shit that would happen if she became a recognizable member of the Jesters, would be the death of me.
“Fine,” she finally said, her voice quiet. “You’re right. I’m not a part of your damn club.”
Something about the tone of her voice made a sick feeling pinch in my gut.
She stalked to the bedroom and I forced myself to follow behind her, watching as she threw a duffel bag on the bed, our bed. “What are you doing?”
Kris didn’t look at me. She went to the top drawer, yanking it open and pulling out her clothes. “There was a time, Rex, when I thought… well it doesn’t matter now, does it? You got your precious club to worry about.”
Something tightened in my chest. The sick feeling grew as I watched her throw more of her things into the bag. “What are you doing?”
She looked at me, tears shining in her eyes. “The fuck does it look like I’m doing?”
She was leaving me. Of all the things I thought she would never do, this was one of them. She couldn’t do this. For so many reasons, she couldn’t leave. “Why?”
“Because,” she said, her voice breaking. “You just made it perfectly clear I don’t fit into your life. And if I don’t fit, then I’m not dragging this out between us any longer.”
I ground my teeth. This was supposed to be a good night for me, the fucking best night in a long time, and she was ruining it with one of her fits. “Fine. Get the fuck out of my house.”
She made no sound as she grabbed her bag, and pushed past me like I wasn’t even standing there. She was leaving.
Kris was walking out on me.
She reached the front door before I caught up with her, grabbing her arm and whirling her around. “Kris. Don’t.”
She pushed me away, shoving at my chest hard. “Let go of me! You told me to leave so I am fucking leaving. I’ll come bac
k for the rest of my shit later. No, you know what? I will send someone for it.”
“Kris, wait,” I said, but she was already wrenching the door open and walking through it, slamming it hard enough to shake the house.
For a moment, I stood there, looking at the closed door and trying to comprehend what had just happened.