by L. Wilder
The men all turned and looked at me with their eyebrows furrowed. You’d think I would have turned away, tucked my tail between my legs, and shut the hell up, but I didn’t. Hell no. I just kept running my mouth. “They have their heads crammed too far up their own asses to even notice anything else.”
“No doubt about that.” The older guy gave me a questioning look. “You got a name, kid?”
“Seth Lanheart… but most folks just call me Two Bit.”
“You ride, Two Bit?”
I nodded. “Since I was just a kid.” I could’ve just stopped there, but I didn’t. “There’s nothing better. Just follow the basic rules, and life is good.”
He paused as he studied me for a moment. “Care to share these rules of yours?”
“Pretty simple. Take care of your bike, use your head for more than holding up your fucking helmet, and respect the road because it can hit back harder than you ever could.”
“Pretty good rules you got there, kid.” He turned up his beer and finished it off before he stood up. The others followed suit and started for the door. Before they left, the older man turned to me. “You should come by the clubhouse sometime. If you’re up for it, we might be able to put you and your rules to use.”
Even though I had no idea where their clubhouse was, I replied, “Maybe I’ll do that.”
“When you get to the gate, tell him Cotton sent ya.”
Chapter 1
Two Bit
“You ready to roll out?” Clutch asked, sounding impatient. I could tell by the look in his eyes that he was set to go and ready to get our run over and done. While he’d never complain, I knew he was like many of the other brothers. He had his woman waiting for him at home and didn’t like the thought of leaving, even if it was just for one night. It was one of the sacrifices that had to be made to keep the club running.
“I’m always ready, brother. Just say the word.”
“Have you seen Stitch or Q’?”
“They’re waiting out back. Let me grab my shit, and I’ll meet you there.”
He nodded and started for the back door while I headed down the hall to my room. As I grabbed my duffel bag, I felt a sense of accomplishment. Over the past year, everything in my life had come full circle. After I got my in with the club, I spent the next year and a half prospecting, getting to know the ins and outs of the brotherhood, and ensuring my place in the club. It wasn’t always easy. I worked my ass off, did whatever I was told, and learned when and when not to open my fucking mouth—which ended up being one of the hardest lessons I had to learn. It took a lot of blood, sweat, and tears, but I eventually proved my value and got my vote. It’d all been worth it. Getting my patch was one of the best days of my life. I’d found my place, worked for it, and earned it. It was an honor to stand beside my brothers and call them family.
When I walked out the back door, Stitch was already on his bike while Clutch and Q’ were waiting in the SUV. As the club enforcer, Stitch had always been quick on the draw, prepared to handle anyone or anything that crossed his path, but patience wasn’t exactly one of his strong suits. Knowing he wasn’t a man who liked to be kept waiting, I hurried to my bike and followed them out the gate. The sun had already set and darkness had fallen as we headed towards the interstate, making it easier for us to travel undetected. These runs were nothing new. The club had been running guns for years, long before I started prospecting. Over the past year, we’d converged with several of Satan’s Fury charters, creating a larger pipeline. This enabled us to move larger shipments down south and get bigger payouts. While at times it could be dangerous, gun trafficking had turned out to be a very profitable trade for the club, and our next shipment would be the biggest one to date. We were staying the night in Seattle so we could meet up with our distributor first thing in the morning. Once we got the load, we’d meet up with the Seattle charter, and they’d make sure the goods made its way to Memphis.
When we got to town, Clutch led us to a small diner so we could grab a bite to eat. As soon as we parked, we headed inside and found us a table in the back. It was your typical diner with red checkered tablecloths and the smell of hamburgers drifting through the air. Many locals were sitting around talking as they enjoyed their food. We each glanced over our menus, and when the waitress came over to our table, Q’ was the first to place his order. “I’ll have two burgers with everything, an order of loaded fries with extra cheese, a beer and… a piece of pecan pie.”
Q’ was tall and thin, which was surprising considering how much the guy ate. I’m six-foot-five and two seventy on the hoof, and that scrawny motherfucker could eat me under the table any day of the week. “Damn, brother. Where do you put it all?”
“What? I’m a growing boy,” he scoffed trying to look offended.
“Sure, you are.” I laughed as I turned to the waitress.
We each placed our orders. Once she had gone back to the kitchen, Clutch looked down at his watch and yawned. “I can’t believe it’s only ten. Damn. I’m wiped.”
I smirked as I taunted him. “All those late nights are catching up with you.”
He sighed. “Seems like there is always something going on. Charlie and his baseball and football… and Hadley with all her school projects. It’s never ending.”
“I hear ya, brother. I can’t remember the last time I got a good night’s sleep. Mia just started teething and wants us all to know she isn’t happy about it,” Stitch complained, but it was clear by the look on his face how much he loved his daughter. She was just a few months old, but she’d already wrapped her father around her little finger. He looked over at Q’ and growled, “You better not snore tonight, numb-nut, or there will be hell to pay.”
Laughing, he replied, “I’ll do my best, brother.”
We all grew quiet when the waitress came over to us with our food. Q’ wasted no time digging in, and the rest of us followed suit. A half an hour later, we were done and headed back out to our bikes. As soon as we got to the motel, Clutch went inside to get our rooms sorted. After several minutes, he came back out and handed us each a key. “Q’, you’ll be with Stitch.”
Stitch tossed his cigarette to the ground as he grumbled, “Like I said… no fucking snoring.”
Shaking his head, Q’ took his key. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Stitch. I’m not the one who snores.”
“Ah, yeah… you do.”
“I haven’t had any complaints.”
With a cocked eyebrow, Stitch retorted, “You got yourself a woman?”
A shit-eating grin spread across his face. “Not a regular, but I have my fair share of the ladies.”
“You want one to stick around, you best quit that fucking snoring.” With that, Stitch headed towards their room. I grabbed a change of clothes out of my saddlebag and followed Clutch up the stairs. As soon as we stepped inside the room, Clutch dropped to the bed and threw his arm over his eyes. “Set the alarm for five.”
“You calling it a night?”
“Hell, yeah,” he grumbled. “Tonight will be the first night in weeks I’ll be able to sleep without any interruptions.”
After I set the alarm, I headed to the bathroom for a hot shower. Unlike the others, I wasn’t tired; I needed help winding down. By the time I was done, Clutch was sound asleep. Trying my best not to disturb him, I lay down on my bed and started flipping through the messages on my phone. It didn’t take long. I only had one. Like clockwork, my mother touched base every week to make sure I was still breathing. Once I’d let her know I was alive and well, I tossed my phone on the table beside the bed and stared into the darkness. I rolled to my side, trying to get comfortable, but I was too keyed up to sleep. Knowing I was just wasting my time, I got up and put on my jeans and t-shirt. After I pulled on my boots, I grabbed my wallet and stepped outside to smoke a cigarette. I’d just taken my first drag when I noticed a flashing neon sign across the street. Thinking a beer might help take off the edge, I headed down the stairs and acro
ss the street.
As my feet hit the gravel of the parking lot, I could hear the loud music blaring from inside. There were bikes and a few beat-up old trucks parked at the sides of the entrance. The front of the place was pretty well lit up, but it was pitch black all around the rest of the building. An uneasy feeling hit me as I walked through the door, but per my usual self, I ignored my better instincts. Seconds later, I found myself seated at the Nudie Booty Strip Club bar. I reached for my phone to leave Clutch a message, letting him know where I was, but realized I’d left it in the room.
A young waitress with short, curly blonde hair and way too much makeup came up to me with a seductive smile. She batted her bright blue eyes as she leaned over the counter, exposing more than a hint of cleavage. “What can I get for you, handsome?”
“A beer would be great.”
“Draft or bottle, darlin’?” she purred.
“Whatever you have on tap will be fine.”
“You got it.” She sauntered over to the keg, filled my glass, then brought it back over to me. “Can I get you anything else?”
“This’ll do it, thanks.”
Her eyebrows furrowed as she studied me for a moment. “You’re not from around here, are you? I’d remember a guy like you. You’re not the kind of guy a girl would forget.”
“Nope. Just passing through.”
“You should stick around a little while. I get off at twelve.”
“Sorry, doll. I’ll be long gone before then.”
“That’s a shame.” She ran the tips of her fingers across my arm. “I think the two of us could have a real good time.”
“As much as I’d like to find out, it ain’t gonna happen tonight.”
“Well, maybe next time.” She started to walk away, but stopped long enough to say, “Let me know if you need another.”
“Will do.”
While she was busy tending to a brute at the end of the bar, I took the opportunity to look around the room. While at first glance it seemed like your ordinary strip club with its scantily dressed waitresses and the strippers with large, fake breasts dancing on the stage, it was far from typical. Nudie’s was run by the Chosen Knights. I hadn’t realized it until I saw their motto: “Chosen by Fate. Bound by Honor”.
Just reading it made my stomach turn. There was nothing honorable about their Brotherhood. There was a time when they were a decent group of guys. They lived by the code—for family and what was right—but things changed when their long-time president died. Now, they were all about quick profit and didn’t give a fuck who they crossed in the process. That was evident by the way they ran the strip club. The place looked like a dump with no real bouncers, and the girls looked high as kites as they paraded themselves on stage.
I should’ve used my head. I should’ve gotten up and left the minute I spotted their colors, but I figured it was just one beer—just a five-minute reprieve from the silence of that hotel room. I didn’t see the harm. I didn’t realize that the decision to come in to this strip club on this night would alter the course of my destiny yet again.
I’d gotten midway through my beer when I overheard one of the bikers behind me boast, “It’ll be one hell of a score.”
Another one replied, “Don’t you know it. They’ll never see us coming.”
“Serves those motherfuckers right for doing business in our territory.”
Trying to remain unnoticed, I took a slug of my beer and listened as one of them said, “It’s been a long time coming.”
“They know it’s our fucking territory. Fuck. Everybody knows it, but they think they can just come in here and do whatever the hell they want without going through us first. Fuck that.”
“I still say we end those motherfuckers,” one of them grumbled. “I don’t give a fuck who they are.”
There was no way to be sure, but something in my gut made me think they were referring to us. Just hearing them talk made my heart start beating out of control. I was torn between getting back to the hotel to warn the others and stick around to hear what else they were going to say.
“Fuck no. We gotta get in and get out.”
“He’s right. Killing them isn’t an option. We just want to rattle them… teach them a fucking lesson and make them think twice before coming around here again—not bring on a full-blown war. At least for now.”
“What makes you think stealing their shit from them won’t bring on a war?”
“Oh, they’ll want a war, there’s no doubt about that. But they’ll never know it was us. We’ll make sure of that. Like Pres said: we go in with no bikes and no colors. Keep our mouths shut, and they’ll never even know it was us.”
Deciding it was time for me to get the hell out of there, I tossed a ten on the counter and started towards the door. I was just about to step outside when I heard a woman’s voice say, “Back off, Slider.”
My focus was immediately pulled to the side hallway where one of the bigger bikers, tall and muscled up like a linebacker, had a woman pinned to the wall. His hair was pulled back in a braid, and his thick beard was just a few inches from her face. The girl, a cute blonde with long, wavy hair and a killer body, was glaring at him like she was about to cut his throat. “You’ve got two seconds to get your hands off of me.”
“Don’t be like that, baby.”
“Get this through your thick head! I’m not your baby. I’m not your anything. Now, get off of me, asshole.” She gave him a hard shove, but he didn’t budge.
I watched his hand drop to the curve of her full breast as he gripped her tightly. “This shit is getting old. I’m tired of playing games with you, bitch.”
I cleared my throat, drawing both of their attentions in my direction. Her hazel eyes glistened as I took a step closer. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” she answered with a high-pitched voice. Her eyes were wide and filled with panic, making it clear that she wasn’t. Strangely enough, she seemed more afraid of me than the guy pawing at her. “Really. I’m okay.”
“You sure about that?”
“You heard her, asshole. Now, get the hell out of here before you and me have a problem,” he growled as he looked daggers at me.
“See that’s where you’re wrong. We already have a problem.” It probably wasn’t the best idea to start something up with this guy, especially with his brothers sitting just a few feet away, but there was something about the girl—maybe it was the way she looked at me or the fiery sound of her voice. Whatever it was, there was no way in hell I was leaving her there with him—even if that meant taking a fall.
Chapter 2
Zoe
It’s not exactly every girl’s dream to work at a strip club, especially one run by the Chosen. Actually, it’s a nightmare—a nightmare I can’t seem to escape. I had big plans for myself. I was going to go to college to be an accountant. I wanted a career and a family. I couldn’t imagine anything better than coming home after work to find my kids waiting for me. I had it all planned out, but my father dying put an end to those pipe dreams. When I was just a toddler, right after my mother died, my father got a wild hair and decided to form a motorcycle club with a couple of his friends. I think when it came down to it, he was lonely and needed something to occupy his time. The guys named themselves the Chosen Knights, and my father, Lucky, was the obvious choice for president. What started as a small group of friends riding and enjoying the camaraderie of brotherhood quickly turned into something more. It didn’t take long for others to become interested in joining their small group, and in a matter of a few years, they’d managed to acquire a clubhouse and a real name for themselves. Most of them worked blue collar jobs like mechanics, welders, and line workers. Eventually, they decided to pool their resources and open up a shop of their own. They were a family who worked hard and played even harder.
Going to the clubhouse with my father was one of my fondest memories. The guys were good people, nice and respectable, and they treated my father like he was king of the moun
tain. I felt proud to stand next to him, like I was part of something special, and I never wanted that feeling to end.
Unfortunately, it did. All it took was one bad seed, and everything fell apart. As soon as Gunner was patched in, things started to change. He was greedy, and his hunger for money quickly became contagious. Even though the club was doing well with the shop, he convinced several of the brothers that the club needed to venture out, to find new ways to make more money—legal or illegal. My father opposed the idea, thinking the club was doing just fine, but the others wanted more. Each time they gathered for church, a new proposal came across the table: drugs, weapons, and even prostitution. Each new idea was instantly shot down by my father. He wanted no part of anything illegal whatsoever.
But they weren’t going to let it go.
I’d never be able to prove it, but in my heart, I knew Gunner had something to do with my dad’s accident. He’d been riding his whole life, and there was no way in hell he would wipe out in a patch of sand on the road. He knew the rule—slow in, fast out, and he’d never make such a rookie mistake as to hit any kind of gravel at 90 miles per hour. I always knew Gunner wanted him out of the picture, but I didn’t realize he would be willing to kill to get what he wanted. Before I had a chance to question him, Gunner was in a wreck of his own, dying much like the way my father had. I’d hoped with him gone, the club would lose interest in their lust for money, but I was wrong. In a few short months, greed took over the club, and the brothers quickly found new ways to make money. They bought a strip club a few miles from the clubhouse, which eventually led to prostituting their girls. Soon after, they started selling drugs and illegal weapons. The whole thing sickened me. I wanted no part of it, but I didn’t have a choice. All of my father’s money was wrapped up in the club. If I wanted to continue taking my classes or have a place to live, I’d have to stay and work for them. I was stuck, forced to watch my father’s greatest joy crumble in front of me, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.