by V. Theia
“Your first ER trip?”
“I wish,” the woman said. “We practically live at the emergency room with this one back home in California. I’m sure he thinks he’s made of Teflon. Yours?”
“Yeah.”
“She’ll be okay, they’ll have you out pretty quick.”
Zara hoped so. She kept seeing Rider in that bed just days ago.
This was too much drama for one girl to cope with.
“I’m Dana,” the woman said offering her hand. Zara shook it and exchanged names. “We’re only in town for the week visiting family and this happens. I swear he’s driving me to drink.” She joked.
At that, Rider came through the doors, flanked by Pretty-boy, larger than life even with a slight limp and put relief in Zara’s chest.
Harper ran to him immediately and got scooped up.
“She been seen to?” He asked, putting a hand around Zara’s neck as if he sensed she needed calming. When she told him no, he went up to the counter, said a few words to the girl behind and what do you know, within a few minutes Harper got seen to, the beads were extracted and they were free to go.
Not before Harper, who was laid on Rider’s shoulder, started to wave to the blond haired kid.
“Don’t cry, is okay. I gots a sticker.” She said to him and the boy half smiled in her direction.
“I won’t, kid.”
Harper beamed and waved again, tuckered out, she laid her head on Rider, a thumb popped into her mouth.
The boy’s eyes shifted to Rider and interest sparked there.
“You’re a MC president?”
Rider arched his eyebrow and answered as he reached for Zara’s hand with his free one. Pretty-boy was behind them. “Yeah, kid.”
“That’s cool. I’m gonna be in a MC one day.”
“Maybe don’t get your limbs slashed up and you might.”
“Cain, stop bothering people,” his mom said quietly and his scowl came back as he threw himself on a chair, sprawling with all the arrogance a boy of his age could possess. Zara shared a smile with Dana, told her she hoped he’d be okay and then they thankfully left the hospital to go to another department, this time to get Rider’s stitches looked at.
“No more hospitals forever, Ambrosio,” she warned, Pretty-boy laughed.
“You giving birth in the tub at home, Icy?”
She huffed, smiling. Smartass man, and she’d agreed to marry him.
* * *
The meeting was raucous as he’d expected it to be.
It was the first time in days he had his ass in the Prez chair and Rider felt at home even with his leg throbbing. He stretched the limb out in front of him for some relief and hit the gavel on the table.
“How did it feel, Prez?” Grinder was the one to ask and every set of eyes came at Rider.
He half smiled. They meant taking out Grigori.
“Like getting hemorrhoids removed.”
Around the table the cheers and slaps on wood traveled through each man.
He didn’t take murder lightly.
It was as necessary as breathing in this case.
Eliminate Grigori’s soldiers had been step one, make it so he was forever having to bring in new crew. That tied him up for a while.
Drain his funds was the biggest boon and Rider got a kick out of that part of their plan. Like taking candy from a moron.
But the biggest break was the plan they hit on in late night talks around this very table. Make it seem like Grigori was doing the dirty on his own kind.
The mafia take backstabbing seriously. As in you get dead.
A few well choice pieces of doctored evidence that went through the secret channels of the bratva back in the cold country and Rider was finally granted a phone call with Alexei, the Pakhan himself. Maybe the old coot didn’t like Grigori because it took next to no persuading at all for him to give Rider the confirmation that no retribution would come if he killed his second in command.
It was the last piece Rider had been holding out for and after that, there was nothing stopping him.
He hadn’t intended to get shot.
Nor to be part of a set up where Grigori was using Texas either.
Lucky for all concerned, Charlie Timmons filled him in on Texas’ suicidal crusade.
For the first time in a long time, Rider took a slow inhale and felt some of his tension from the last few years drift away.
He smiled, listening to his men celebrating.
They needed their blowout party, that was for damn sure.
It had taken time, a lot of planning, too much waiting and patience, letting the asshole assume he had the upper hand over Rider’s MC.
But at every turn, they’d thwarted Grigori’s moves to earn money off their land.
Again, it was fortunate that Charlie had been the first cop on the scene.
He didn’t question Rider whether he’d killed the Russian, he wouldn’t want that secret on his conscience, but what the lawman did do was make it so that the Russian’s had turned on each other.
This shit might play on Charlie’s mind for a while even though they’d had the common good of their town in getting rid of the rancid poison.
His MC was about 90% legit but it would never mean Rider would sit on the same fence as the law, not all the way one percenters any longer and it was the way Rider liked it.
He was slogging his guts out for a better future for his family, for future generations, so the club never ended in the dirt again.
If he had to kill every fucking member of any mafia to do that, he would.
Never underestimate a determined club.
His club had risen to the top once more and would keep doing so.
It was Tag whose voice rose over all others as he knocked his knuckles on the table. His Prince Charming grin in full wattage as he declared. “One jackass down. One to go.”
Oh, yeah. Every man around that table agreed.
Grigori might be gone and the club home free, but there was still one annoying enemy left.
His shithole of an uncle.
Rex Marinos was next on Rider’s hit list.
And what that old man didn’t realize was, Rider was an excellent shot.
He’d put all his efforts into his recovery and seeing that his old lady brought their third baby into the world safely, especially now she’d agreed to wear his ring.
And then dear uncle fuck face would get his payback in full.
THIRTY-SEVEN
“No wars are without casualties.” - Lawless
Riding through the football field sized compound forecourt, Lawless ignored the Yamaha following closely behind when he parked besides Jed’s Harley trike. The old member couldn’t climb on a hog these days with his arthritic bones, but he still loved a ride on warmer days and he looked killer on the trike.
Stopping the engine, he pocketed the keys, sitting there for a second with his boots braced on the concrete floor while the other bike parked across the way in the only space left.
If Lawless were an emotional person able to feel …anything, he might have some reaction with what he was about to lay down.
But he felt nothing.
His mind was made up a long time ago.
He was halfway through now.
He couldn’t get off this path.
Quitting was for quitters and he was no idiot, or however that saying went.
It started several hundred days ago and he was in the home stretch but this part was going to be the most difficult of all.
He knew someone who could get it done for him no questions asked if he wanted to go down that road again, without the sacrifices he was going to throw down. But that wasn’t Lawless’ flavor, he did his own dirty work.
His trips to Mexico over the past few months were no picnic. But he got some good eats while he was there.
Running a hand over his newly shaved head, feeling the bristles barely an inch long on his palm, he threw his leg over his bike.
&n
bsp; He had two objectives today.
Two he intended to see through to the bitter end.
Snake was gonna fucking cry. He just knew it.
Meat was so sensitive.
But then Snake was his best friend, if Lawless were capable of that.
He supposed he was closest to the bodyguard than anyone else.
Not because they’d fucked.
That noise didn’t even register to either of them now.
Not with the guy on cloud nine with his family.
Lawless was happy for him.
Had he been in the cupid matchmaking business, he would have chosen Winter for him. She was right for the man, their noises fit together.
Ah, fuck.
Now look at him, little bastard human emotions trying to get through the cracks of his nothingness.
Someone once called him an unfeeling robot.
He did have circuits that didn’t fire on the normal frequency, he admitted this.
Just imagine what kind of lunatic he’d be if acted solely on emotion.
People were just not grateful at all.
Inspecting his bike for a second, he’d given it a fresh meticulous polish before he left his cabin this morning and rode down the mountain.
If he had attachments, then she would be one of them.
Chrome laced wheels with whitewall tires, pull back handlebars and the trim was midnight blue, softail frame with a retro modern style. She was a thing of beauty and Lawless’ current ride, having laid out nearly twenty big ones only four months ago for the Harley Deluxe.
She was his sixth motorcycle since joining the MC. And eight in total.
“Sweet ride, boss.” The younger guy whistled sidling up to Lawless, his hands stuffed down in the front pockets of his worn denim. Shoulders up by his ears indicating how cold it was today with mist coming out of both their mouths and frost dusting the top of the mountains to the left.
He looked like any of the prospect hopefuls.
Fresh behind the ears with a look of determination in the eyes.
Lawless knew his past and would hazard a guess at his future.
The enforcer and all around self-proclaimed know-it-all set off toward` the main entrance. He had limited time and a lot to do.
The kid trailing him, walking a little faster to catch up.
He could guess at what he was thinking as he tipped his head back to get a good look at the whole compound.
The Souls place was intimidating to anyone who was permitted through the three security gates.
Overkill?
Nah. Bad fish liked to try to come in uninvited and Lawless didn’t have enough duct tape and beef hooks for them all.
“Man, this place is fucking huge. It doesn’t look that big from back on the road.”
The kid was a talker. He better listen just as good.
Lawless was not a talker unless he wanted to be and today was not that day, so he let him go on as they got closer.
His mind was elsewhere.
No detail was left out.
Lawless, not even bragging, was good at that.
His head was a constant tick, even in his downtime and he knew how to put a plan into motion like it was fire dancing over his long fingers.
The back of his skull was already making too much noise.
Adrenaline pumping too fast.
Any other time he’d chain someone to the ceiling and make all his noise go away but there was no time for fun and games.
Get on with it.
Get it done.
Feel the blood on his fingers.
“You remember my specifics?” His rusty voice inquired.
There was only one right answer.
He didn’t have patience for people most days.
Some people … yes.
Not all people.
Lawless wanted to stab his own eyes out for knowing who the kid looked like.
That vampire diaries idiot who smirked and fucked his brother’s girl.
Not the depressive one who had diamonds for skin.
So what if he flipped through the channels one night when he couldn’t sleep. There were only so many books he could read and he was done with his latest language degree. He’d watched a few killing spree episodes, so what.
The kid at his side was a dead ringer for him. With his ink black hair and curled lip. The bitches inside were gonna cream their panties for him.
But the swagger had a job to do.
And it wasn’t fucking the hangaround fish.
He could swing his dick in his own time.
“Boss, for what you’re paying me, you could shove a broom up my ass and I’ll sweep the floor as I go.”
Lawless only cocked one eyebrow before he stepped through the door first.
“Yeah, yeah. I got it, boss, no problemo whatsoever.” He rolled his shoulders like he was juiced.
There better not be any problems.
“Make sure you don’t forget. Ever.”
His threat was clear.
No one got a second chance to fuck Lawless over.
Not anymore, those days were far in the past, drowning in the trailer park sewage.
Lawless saw the VP first, Hawk’s soulless eyes came at him and then eyed the boy.
He was holding his daughter and his mutt at his feet. Things had changed fast for his psycho in arms.
Scanning his gaze down the far end of the common room, he clocked everyone who was around. Capone. Tag, Pretty-boy and Arson. Then there was Zara and her kids sitting with Ruby and Grinder’s spitfire Mexican wife.
In the mix was Angela who waved over with a smile on her face. He jutted his chin and switched his gaze to the man in charge who was coming from his office.
Everyone was gathering for the party later.
Nothing kept Rider down for long.
His gait was labored due to his injury and the leg brace but he was still an imposing bastard.
“Prez, this is Judge, who I was telling you about.”
The kid immediately snapped to attention.
Check the fucking adoration on the meat, he smirked internally.
Acting like Rider was a rock star, football QB and king of dicks all rolled into one.
“You must have something special, if this lunatic has spoken for you. Don’t waste it, yeah?”
“Not a problem, sir.” Judge answered immediately and Lawless jutted his chin at him for his obedience. “Go mingle like a prom queen, the adults wanna talk.”
Judge flashed a grin and moseyed off down the other end.
Swagger in place.
Cocky attitude strapped on.
Lawless watched every pair of eyes turn the kid’s way.
The curiosity. The intrigue.
The chicks checking out the kid who was barely in his twenties.
One set of dark chocolate eyes stayed on Judge longer than the others.
She was the nosiest.
“He appears keen.” Rider noted. “How long have you been with me now, Law? And you’ve never sponsored anyone.”
Lawless knew this.
Circumstances called for a change.
He leaned an arm on the bar, his eyes down the other end before he turned his gaze to the man at his side with the shrewd stare.
A good man. A fair man. A brutal man. A man who took almost a lethal bullet just so he could kill the enemy.
Rider would make sure to keep Judge in line.
But then, Judge had his orders and knew the consequences for breaking even one.
“First time for everything, Prez.”
Rider laughed. “Fuck me, that shit could mean anything coming from you.”
Checking the silver watch on his wrist, Lawless whistled across to Snake and motioned him over. Rider took off.
“The fuck? I’m not a dog to be summoned, you ass.” Snake, holding one of his kids, bitched as he sauntered over. The drooling baby meat looked like Cash. Or was it Bowie? Twins all looked alike, how’s about that.
“Yet here you are, dog want a treat?”
“Asshole. What’s up? Who’s the Romeo? I swear he looks like that vampire jack-off my Winter has a lady hard-on for. Swear to God, she makes me watch that shit and I wanna pull my eyeballs out, get this, they turn their humanity off, give me a fucking break with that shit.”
Lawless was time sensitive or he would have absolutely unpacked every word of that whole declaration. Snake didn’t know how easy he got off with it.
“He’s Judge, gonna be hanging around for a while. Can you dump him a minute and come outside?”
Snake laughed. “Yeah, sure, I’ll sit my infant son at the bar on his own to have a bottle of beer, asshole.”
At that, Winter, the chick who owned Snake, appeared, she smiled shyly at Lawless, exchanged a kiss with Snake and took the baby from him. She nudged Snake and then headed over to the rabble; she probably wanted a look at the vampire kid too.
He’d seen many of the same exchanges with a lot of the brothers for a while now.
Old ladies were all over the club, not like back in the day, the only chicks running around then were ones looking to get fucked hard and party harder.
“My Winter wants you to come over for dinner this week.”
Lawless’ head swiveled around. “Huh? For what?”
Snake laughed. “For food. She’s got it into her head that you need more socializing like a regular person. Don’t worry, she’s not setting you up with any chicks, I told her any of her friends would be too timid for your tastes.”
A shudder of revulsion went through Lawless.
A blind date sounded about as monstrous as having a heart to heart with his mom. Momma, it’s dark, can I come back in yet?
“I can’t, busy. But tell the Mrs, thanks and another time.”
He got Snake outside.
And with just a few minutes and a fast, precise conversation where Snake, for once kept his trap shut, Lawless explained a few important things to his friend.
He watched it happen.
Snake paled under his tanned skin, flexing his tattooed hands and then his teeth snapped together.
“Before you start spewing your little boy feelings on me… don’t. This is a done deal, Snake. It’s happening and I need you to get with the program to see to what I need from you.”