by A. J. Macey
“Ronin,” a cool voice greeted. Charlie Thompson, another Ranger from my unit turned police officer stepped around his vehicle. He was tall and muscled, his face featuring a small gray beard and a graying buzz cut, his pale skin bright in the moonlight.
“Thompson.” I gave him a single nod before shifting off my bike to shake his hand. We might be on separate sides of the law now, but we were closer than brothers once.
“Why are we out in the middle of nowhere, Stone? Or is it Grave now?” His dig didn’t go unnoticed, but I kept my scoff contained. He had never approved of the path I had taken after I got out.
“What do you know about the Alloy Kings?” I asked.
“Second largest motorcycle gang of Reno,” he responded with a tiny scrunch of his brow. “Why?”
“What would you say if I could give you over half of their club including their president Bryce Hill and VP Ron Sacher?” I offered.
“What do you get out of it?” he countered, crossing his arms. I ground my teeth before responding.
“I’d rather keep people who traffic women and guns off the street, same as you,” I bit out. He scoffed and rolled his eyes.
“If you wanted to do that, you could have been a cop and not a fucking motorcycle gang member,” he lectured.
“Last I checked, that fucking didn’t work out too well since I got fucked over by our higher ups. In case you forgot,” I barked out, dropping my arms. Charlie grimaced, remembering how I had been left with absolute shit when we got back. Everything I did to get my life back fell flat because of our dirty as fuck Lieutenant Colonel’s grudge against me. He’d set me up to take the fall for an assault on an officer, resulting in a dishonorable discharge for an assault I’d never committed. “So, get off your fucking high horse. Do you want the information on the Alloy Kings’ merchandise drop or not?”
“Yeah,” he sighed, letting the conversation go. He knew it was a hot button topic for me. I didn’t set out to choose to be who I was today, but when it had been the only option left? You do what you have to do to survive.
“Tomorrow night, the building at East Greg Street and Kleppe Lane at eleven. Have the place wired up with cameras or microphones because there will be enough there to pin them with.” I ran down the rest of the details so he could be prepared.
“You’re sure this is going to put them away? I need Hill and Sacher there. I can’t get caught putting my ass on the line for a motorcycle gang,” he demanded.
“They’ll be there.”
“They better be, Ronin. I don’t exactly want to get my ass handed to me from the higher ups,” he huffed before giving me a handshake. “I’ll call you when we have them.”
May 23nd
Thursday Evening
Kiera
My skin itched from the attention we were getting from the Aces inside the bar as they looked toward us. I stood off to the side of the officers who lined up in front of the stools at the bar while the patch holders were standing scattered through the rest of the room. Chase’s jacket brushed against my back from him shifting slightly back and forth from one foot to the other. We were officially going over the plan with the rest of the members on how we were going to handle and dismantle the Alloy Kings. When everyone was in, Brooks took charge. I eyed him; his back was straight and his chest seemed almost puffed out. Not in a weird ‘I’m more manly than you’ vibe, but in an air of superiority, control, and strength. It was hot as fuck to see my laid back Brooks fully slip into the motorcycle president role I knew he had buried inside him.
“As you might have been told, you’ve been called here today because today is the day we’re taking down the Alloy Kings,” he announced, his voice radiating authority through the room. A round of rowdy cheers went up around the room from almost all the members, only a few were more reserved in their celebrations. “What we’re about to do is dangerous, and if any of you would rather stay behind to keep an eye on the compound, no one will hold it against you,” he offered, giving them a way out, but no one responded. The room was quiet enough that a pin hitting the floor could be heard.
If it didn’t get stuck in whatever the sticky fuck was coating these floors, I thought with an internal grimace as I shifted and felt my riding boots stick to the floor.
“Good.” Brooks’ talking brought me out of my internal musings and back to the space around us. “A group of us will be riding with Nate to a separate location to draw out as many of them as possible before looping back to meet at their compound. We have word that at least half, if not more, of the members will be following the bait, leaving their compound open for the taking. Chase and Kiera have helped devise a plan on how best to handle the situation…” A scoff within the members cut Brooks off.
“Of course we have to follow the bitch,” a mutter sounded, immediately setting me off, but Brooks responded first.
“What was that, Brewer?” Brooks somehow seemed to become even more impressive in size, whether from the waves of dominance flowing off him or from him actually puffing up his chest I wasn’t sure, but he glared over at the man who had insulted me.
“Why should we have to follow her?” A man with a mop of dirty and ratty blond curly hair waved a dismissive hand toward me, a scowling sneer curling his upper lip. “That bitch has done nothing but bring unnecessary heat and shit down on us. She’s not even part of the club, yet she’s the entire fucking reason this is happening.” I felt my blood boil, and when I started to shift forward, Chase grabbed my arm to keep me from moving.
“Wait, Kittycat,” he murmured, his words barely audible. I bit back the urge to snarl at the pitiful man, but somehow I did it.
“Hm,” Brooks hummed dangerously as he strode forward to where Brewer was seated. The president towered over the member as he glared down at him looking every part of his position. “So, you’re saying you don’t trust this club’s officers?” The man balked.
“Of course, not, Boss. But…”
“But nothing,” Brooks barked harshly. “The shit with the Alloy Kings started before either of those two came into the picture, and should I remind you that they saved one of our own?”
“No, but…” Brewer tried to respond.
“Should I remind you that the other officers and I are in charge of this club and every action that we do or do not do is run by us first?” Brewer finally just shook his head, realizing he was not going to get a word in during Brooks’ tirade.
“So, since you’re questioning the plan brought to us by two trusted allies, you’re questioning us and our respect of the club. Your punishment for referring to people who are putting their asses on the line for us, especially that bitch, as you so eloquently put it, is that you will be the one doing the bitch work around the club. Landscaping, guard duty, bathrooms. Cleaning up after the rest of the members when they’ve had a good fucking time without you because you’ll be too busy fucking cleaning. If I hear another disrespectful fucking word from you, even a whisper, I will demote you faster than you can fucking mutter the word ‘bitch.’”
He stopped to glare around the room which was once again dead silent as they looked on with a mix of fear and respect. “If anyone else wants to question me or my reasonings, you’re welcome to join him as bitch boy and prospect.” He paused and swept his searing gaze over the crowd of people. “Am I clear?” he shouted. I struggled to keep my expression flat at the complete change in Brooks’ demeanor. He didn’t just look like a motorcycle gang’s president, he was the president in every sense of the word.
Honestly, there was a portion of me for a while that had doubted he had that in him with that laid back manner of his. But fuck me if my panties weren’t dripping wet with how hot that just was.
The club was completely silent, but after a brief moment, a round of yeses and head nods went up, no one choosing to go toe-to-toe with their boss. Brooks ran his hands down his cut and shirt, his chin tilting up as he glared around once more. Turning, he walked back to where he stood originally.
“As I was saying,” he ground out, flashing Brewer another look. The man glanced at the floor, unwilling to make eye contact as he metaphorically rolled over and showed his belly. “Chase and Kiera have devised a plan that we will follow to help minimize possible injuries or damage.” He outlined the plan briefly, no longer receiving any complaints from his members.
When the plan was laid out for the patch holders, Stone and Nate started discussing in greater detail what each group would be doing while Chase and Garrett bounced between the two halves and supplied any answers the patch holders had. While there was a lull in the shit Brooks had to handle, I went up and nudged his arm slightly.
“Can I talk to you real quick?” I murmured softly, not wanting to draw the attention of the other officers or any unwanted prying eyes or listening ears. His brow drew down, and he followed me back to the office. When the door was shut and secured, I turned to him.
“If you wanted some alone time, Baby, all you had to do was ask.” Brooks smirked with a sinful glint in his eyes, but the tiny curl to his lip fell, and his eyes sobered when he saw the serious look on my face. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing was on the cameras, but I know that someone was in our house two nights ago. Just something felt off and I didn’t want to bring it up with the guys with how crazy it’s been, but I figured you needed to know.”
“Oh, wow. All right.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Have you sent it to someone to look through the feed?”
I nodded. “Yeah, we should hopefully hear back from them in the next few days. If not, they’re going to send it to their buddy to fuck with,” I explained, crossing my arms tightly over my chest, the anger from knowing someone was in my fucking house flaring at the topic.
“It’ll be all right, Baby. We’ll figure it out, and then you can do whatever your pretty scary little head can come up with to whoever it was,” he reassured, pulling me into his arms. “Now, why don’t we go get these fucking Alloy Kings and put them in their place.”
“Amen to that, Boss,” I teased, “let’s fucking do this.”
Hope they’re ready for us.
Chapter 12
May 23nd
Thursday Night
Kiera
I sat on my bike, adrenaline building in my veins the longer we waited, the edginess pumping through me dulling any other sensation. Half of the rival gang rallied on their compound, the sound of their collective bikes rumbling together growing louder as they filed off the grounds. When they left, I waited five minutes and sent the signal for the rest of The Aces to head this direction. As the line of beat up SUVs and cars rolled up to mine and Stone’s location, I started my bike, and we closed the distance between us and the waiting battle that was about to go down.
As soon as we breached the fence of their compound, Aces members poured out of the crash vehicles and swarmed the few buildings in groups. Shouting could be heard as I hung back with Chase, our instructions to show our force when the Alloy Kings were rounded up and the small group of Aces who had lured them out returned. Some shit about not wanting to put me in the direct line of fire, I scoffed. Coddling assholes. But I did as we had agreed, not wanting to distract Stone, Garrett, or Brooks as they made their way through the small number of structures with their designated team.
A few shots were fired, setting my nerves on high alert, but Chase grabbed my arm and held me in place, reminding me we had our own jobs to do. A tense ten minutes later, the other group of Aces arrived to help corral the Alloy Kings. Shortly after that, mine and Chase’s phones buzzed with the ‘all ready’ code. Rolling my shoulders, I let that fury flow forward, the icy numbness that had coated me since we left the Aces compound melting in a wave a fiery rage and darkness.
“Ready for this, Dove?” Ciar hissed in my ear, an arm tossed over my shoulder as he nipped my ear lobe. “Let’s go fuck some shit up.” With that, we made our way to their bar, weapons drawn and purpose fueling us. Rider and patch holder Collin ‘Lo-Jack’ Braka opened the doors for us when we reached the darkened glass entrance, and no words were exchanged as we strode into the room. Several gasps and cusses were loosed when the remaining Alloy Kings saw us. Neither of us spoke as we scanned the room, the silence growing tense and oppressive. Just how we wanted it. While we waited for the call from Stone’s contact, I counted the men in the room. Twelve. Only twelve Alloy Kings had stayed behind, meaning over twenty were about to be taken down by the Reno Police Department. A shrill ringing filled the space only a few moments later, Stone’s low voice the only thing we could hear.
“It’s done?” he questioned, looking to Brooks, Ciar, and me with a single head nod when he got an answer.
Let the games begin. I smirked, making eye contact with the few Alloy Kings who dared to look at us. A few of them appeared unsettled as they glanced from my maniacal smile to Ciar’s sinister one. Good, be afraid. A cocky bastard in the front stepped forward, giving me a smirk of his own as he put himself in front of the others.
“Why don’t you let us keep the whore, and we’ll let you assholes leave unharmed,” he tried to bargain. One of my men growled when they heard the word, but I snickered coldly and cocked my gun, shooting him in the thigh without even a second thought. Ciar chuckled next to me, his voice low as he questioned whether anyone else would be stupid enough to try and bargain, making three of the men on the sidelines of the dingy bar jump and take off at a sprint.
“Oh, target practice,” Ciar murmured with a cruel curl of his lips, firing off several shots. One by one the runners fell to the ground, pools of blood spreading out around them as they lay face down on the black tile. Straightening, he stalked through the remaining men, all of whom jumped as he brushed the cold steel of the barrel from his unfired weapon against their backs. Their eyes widened in fear, recognizing the unstable predator in front of them.
There’s my Ciar.
Garrett
I watched Chase prowl around, my body tight with tension as he continued to taunt the remaining Alloy Kings, half of which were only prospects, watching with wide, fear-laden eyes. Kiera stood at the front of the room next to Brooks, her gun clutched at her side as the man she had shot writhed on the ground in pain. Fucking asshole deserved it; no one calls my kitten a whore.
“Here’s the deal,” Brooks started as the rivals fully understood the implications of this takeover. “Disbandーleave any and all associations with the Alloy Kings and the Solace mob behind and get the hell out of Nevadaーor follow your fellow members.” Brooks waved a dismissive hand toward the three dead men on the ground. “The rest of your gang,” he sneered the title, “has officially been arrested and are now in custody of the Reno Police Department after being found with an abundance of weapons, drugs, and evidence of other criminal activities.”
Chase rounded in front of the few Aces standing off to the side with me, flashing me a cold smile as he passed. The grey depths that usually held a hint of mischief and laughter were now hollow and hard. Something about him was unsettling, a side to him I’d not witnessed before that made the hair on my arms stand. Now I see why they were so damn scared of him.
Brooks continued to give the remaining Alloy Kings their ultimatum, but now my attention was mainly on this weird version of Chase. With a glance to my side, I saw Stone doing the same. The moment our eyes met I saw that he was having the same reaction. At least it’s not just me who is questioning whatever is happening right now.
Chase continued pacing methodically around the men, like a shark on the hunt. Not a single one of them dared to move, their eyes watching him more than Brooks. Except for the asshole Kiera shot, he was still whining on the floor… Some tough guy he turned out to be. It’s always the mouthy ones. The rest of our members, Kiera included, didn’t seem to notice the change in Chase, but Stone and I did.
Whoever this is? This isn’t the Chase we’ve come to know.
I have no idea who this is.
Does Kiera?
Brooks
When I finished my speech, the nine—well, eight—Alloy Kings still standing agreed readily, scared out of their fucking minds by Chase and the way he so easily killed three of their members, Kiera with her cold smile as she shot one in the leg, and the number of Aces spread out on the outskirts of their bar. Over the next hour, the last members scurried to pack their bags, get on their bikes, and leave their cuts behind as they scattered. A sense of victory flowed through me, an excited wave filling me as I watched the last of the prospects leave the Alloy Kings compound.
“All right,” I called out, unable to stop the swell of pride in my voice. “Let’s head back boys, time to fucking celebrate!” Loud hollers and cheers went up, including from Kiera as she bounced lightly on her toes in a very Chase manner. Speaking of the assassin, I turned my attention to him feeling my brow dip low in confusion. He stood stoic, fingers tapping lightly on his faux-suede jacket sleeve as he eyed the crowd with disdain. Well, until his grey-blue eyes landed on Kiera, then the cold melted into a heated stare, but he stood quiet and still.
Well, that’s certainly something I wouldn’t have expected from Chase.
The guys piled into the SUVs while Kiera and Stone got on their bikes as we all left at staggered times, each car or pair driving in a different direction to help keep any eyes from following us. I was with one of the last returning cars since I wanted to make sure that all of my patch holders made it back safely, so over thirty minutes later, Rider, Collin, Bruce, and I finally pulled into the clubhouse parking lot. The boys were already breaking out the alcohol, loud music, and roaming hands over their Old Ladies or the hang-arounds that were celebrating in the bar.