Perilous (Dauntless MC Book 2)

by Suzanne Steele

  “Damn, girl,” one of them stated as Daisy continued to focus on the road and trying to get away from the large vehicle following them.

  “Damn it! I can’t see shit with this sheet of rain on my windshield.” She turned the wipers on high and slowed down. Suddenly, the girls were jolted as the vehicle behind them tapped their bumper.

  “Well, at least we don’t have to wonder anymore. This is definitely somebody trying to make me wreck.”

  Her foot hit the pedal, and the Renegade took off down River Road. Though the vehicle stayed behind her, it was unable to keep up with her aggressive driving maneuvers.

  “Damn, girl, were you a race car driver in another life?”

  She ignored the question, kept her focus on the road, and concentrated on how the Jeep handled. She had made it through the straightaway on River Road and skidded through a left turn on a yellow light to end up on Jefferson Street.

  “I think we lost him.”

  She pulled in to the Dauntless Divas parking lot and sat for a minute to get over the flood of adrenalin coursing through her system. The three of them looked over just in time to see a large, black truck with dark tinted windows slowly passing them on the street. It was taking long enough to look at the women, as if to assure them of their future demise, before taking off down the street.

  Preacher

  Preacher stood, calm and stoic, while he listened to the girls recount everything that happened on their drive to the club.

  “From now on, I’m going to have to escort you girls to and from work. This is getting real fucking personal. That’s a pretty chicken ass thing to do. Going after the club’s women is hitting below the belt.” He directed his question to Raven, “You girls couldn’t see who it was?”

  “No, it was a Ford, newer, and black, but the windows were so tinted, we couldn’t see inside the cab. I swear, Preach, if that tinting wasn’t illegal, it was right at the limit it was so dark.”

  “Stick to your regulars tonight, don’t leave your drinks, and purposely sit where I can see you. No dark corners, no private booths, and no strangers.”

  The girls agreed to his demands and Preacher spoke up, adding, “And one more thing… we all leave together tonight.” He patted the gun tucked into his waistband. “If it happens on the way home, I’m pulling up beside him and shooting to kill.”

  Chapter Twenty Four

  Preacher

  Preacher stood with his arms crossed over his chest and watched as Tiny slammed the gavel down so hard on the sounding block, he thought it would shatter. To say his president was pissed would have been a gross understatement. The rage in his countenance was obvious, and Tiny wasn’t the kind of guy you wanted to piss off.

  “If it hadn’t been for fuckin’ Preacher’s old lady, those girls would have been at the mercy of a club enemy.”

  Preacher beamed with pride at the knowledge that it was his woman’s fast thinking and excellent driving skills that had kept the girls safe. He made a mental note to find out where she learned to drive like that. Tiny’s booming voice pulled him from his thoughts and back into the meeting.

  “The problem I’ve got with this shit is the fact that whoever was trying to cause those girls to wreck has got to be an insider.”

  “Better not fucking find that shit out,” Talon grumbled.

  “Ain’t nothing worse than a fucking snitch or a mole,” Grease yelled out. “But I feel ya, Prez. It’s gotta be an inside job because there ain’t that many people who even knew about Preacher’s cage. Preach don’t even drive it, just keeps it in that shed out back.”

  “I don’t believe it’s a member. Maybe it’s a prospect or a club slut.” Scooter rarely spoke, so when he did, Preacher noted that Tiny listened.

  “Why do you say that?” Tiny eyed him intently as he waited for an answer.

  “Man, you know how these bitches are. Men want power, but women want men who have power. You need to be watching anyone who is vying for position, and right now, that’s every prospect and club ho up in here.”

  “He’s got a point,” Talon agreed.

  “I don’t trust no-fucking-body at this point. Man, woman, or Hell’s Demon, we’ve got somebody out there who is trying to draw first blood,” Tiny shouted. “If they fuckin’ want blood, then that’s what Dauntless MC is going to give them!”

  That statement started the boys cheering, all except for Preacher, who was mulling some issues over in his mind. He was getting a gut feeling about something, and he had learned a long time ago to listen to his instincts. They’d kept him alive this long, and now he was going to use them to keep his woman and his brothers safe.

  Preacher

  Preacher waited until church was over before he addressed Tiny and Talon.

  “I don’t think the girls are remembering everything about the truck that tried to run them off the road.”

  “My old lady swears by that shit Derrick and Justine do when questioning victims of assaults.” Talon stated.

  “What shit?” Tiny spoke up, clearly intrigued by doing whatever it would take to get more answers about who was harassing the women.

  Talon plopped his biker boot up on the table where they were seated and toyed with the toothpick in his mouth. “I don’t know what they call it. They set ‘em up in a dark room, have them close their eyes, and then ask them questions.”

  “Like hypnotizing? I don’t like the idea of some man hypnotizing my woman,” Preacher growled.

  “Scared it might fuck up your cock mojo?” Talon taunted.

  “Fuck you, Talon. Ain’t no motherfucker gettin’ in my bitch’s head.”

  “Aww, calm down. I don’t think it’s that deep. They are trained to know what questions to ask.”

  “I know how to interrogate somebody. Take ‘em down to the cellar and slap my gun on the table. Light a cigarette and start burning them with it. Then, inform them they’re going to fucking answer my questions, or things are going to get real painful.”

  “Yeah, you’re quite successful in making people piss their pants, Preach, but that doesn’t help them remember. It does, however, scare the shit out of them and make it to where they can’t remember anything because they’re so terrified of your big, ugly ass.”

  “Boys! You two will go back and forth all night. I want answers!” Tiny cut his eyes at Preacher. “And I don’t give a fuck if they have to hypnotize your bitch to get them. You’re going to do what’s best for this club.” He cocked his head, and Preacher knew it was a threat; his words only confirmed it. “You can assure me I’m correct in my thinking that the club comes before bitches.”

  “Yes sir, Prez,” Preacher answered with no hesitation.

  “Good, I’m glad to know we see things eye to eye.”

  Preacher watched Tiny as he picked up a wooden chair and threw it against the wall, shattering it instantly.

  Yep… he’s pissed.

  Nobody had to tell Preacher this shit was about to get real ugly. Fucking with the brothers was one thing, fucking with their old ladies was another, but fucking with the first lady of the club was taking that shit to a whole new level. It wouldn’t matter if it was a man or a woman that pulled that bumper-tapping stunt. When Tiny found out who it was, the best they could hope for would be an ass beating of epic proportions, and at worst, they’d be looking at a bullet between the eyes.

  Chapter Twenty Five

  Daisy

  Daisy held Preacher’s hand as she sat in his dimly lit room with two strangers who were evidently part of Dauntless MC. The guy’s name was Derrick and he was supposed to be an ICE agent, but he looked more like a biker than law enforcement. The woman was his partner and looked like she had just walked off the cover of a businesswoman’s magazine. Her make-up and blonde hair were meticulously done, and she wore a pinstripe suit jacket and pencil skirt. Daisy found herself eyeing Preacher to see if he was checking out the female agent, but all he was doing was sitting on an ottoman, holding her hand, and stroking her skin as
the woman sat on the other side of her.

  “Okay, Daisy, I want you to close your eyes and take a couple of deep breaths, in through your nose and out through your mouth. That’s it. Now, just block everything out and listen to the sound of my voice. There’s no pressure here. All we’re trying to do is pull out memories you have that you don’t realize are there. Look at it like this: they’re tucked away in the closet at the back of your mind, and we’re going to open the door and sift through any clutter. Now, you’re driving down the road and it’s raining. What’s the first thing you noticed?”

  “He’s too close, and his brights are on. I can’t see.”

  “Okay, that’s good. Now, at that point, you would have been watching your rearview mirror. How many silhouettes do you see?”

  “Shit, it looks like there are two.”

  “Good, you’re doing really good. Can you tell if they are male or female?”

  The one driving is a man but the other one looks like it could be a woman.”

  “Okay, what happened next?”

  “That was when I took off. I wanted to see if they were following us or just trying to pass. That worked for a couple of minutes until the rain started coming down in sheets.”

  “Okay, that’s really good. What happened then?”

  “I had to slow down because it was so hard to see. I took a moment and turned up the wipers. When I had to slow down, they sped up. That was when they tapped our bumper, so I floored it and made it up to where we turned onto Jefferson Street. I skidded through a yellow light and lost them.”

  “That’s very helpful, Daisy. Just one more question, and then we’re done. You saw the truck when it passed by the parking lot. Do you remember any details?”

  “It was black and it had flames at the base. Oh, and one more thing, it had a Harley insignia.”

  Preacher

  Preacher had taken the time to kiss Daisy on the cheek and tell her she’d done well before he left to meet with the agents. Now, they all sat in the kitchen, nursing cups of coffee.

  He listened as Derrick spoke, “We got a sample of the paint that was left behind. Even though we know we’re dealing with a Ford F150 Harley edition, it may come in handy for identifying the truck later on.”

  “You don’t know anyone who drives a truck like that?” Justine asked.

  “Anyone I know rides a Harley on two wheels, not four.” He continued speaking, sorting through his thoughts. “You know Grease and Scooter said some things earlier that make more sense to me now. They’re convinced we’ve got a mole, possibly a woman or a prospect. What if this is a woman with a grudge?”

  “Why does he think that?” Derrick asked, crossing his arms over his chest and eyeing him skeptically.

  “Totally off subject, dude, you do look like a biker,” Preacher said, looking at Derrick and shaking his head.

  Justine chuckled, “Yeah, he gets that a lot with the long hair and the way he dresses.”

  “It’s just that nobody really knows I have that cage because I’m always on my bike. The only people who know are the ones who are here at the compound a lot. That’s why they thought it had to have been an inside job.”

  “So you have this incident and someone putting water in Raven’s SUV. Were there any other issues?” Derrick questioned.

  “The black roses.”

  “Always makes me think about the dude that goes by Black Rose, but it isn’t him or she’d be dead,” Derrick noted.

  “Or abducted,” Justine added.

  Preacher shook his head. “Those roses are someone trying to be sinister. I have to agree with Grease. Ain’t no bitch going to know that much about the engine of a car.”

  “Biker bitches do,” Derrick disagreed. Why don’t we do this? Let Justine and me do some surveillance. You won’t even know we’re around,” he waggled his eyebrows and rubbed his hands together in joyous anticipation.

  “You’re a kinky motherfucker. You like to stalk.”

  Justine raised an eyebrow and spoke in Preacher’s direction, “You have no idea.”

  Chapter Twenty Six

  Preacher

  Preacher sat at the clubhouse bar and watched as the boys shot pool. The sweetbutts meandered around the large, open room, clearing tables, getting beers, or servicing members who needed release. The old ladies sat in a separate area. There was a definite hierarchy for those who resided within the confines of the clubhouse walls, and it was up to the individual to learn what that pecking order was. You could be taught the easy way or the hard way, but no matter which route you chose, it was a lesson you were forced to learn, and the quicker, the better. There had been more than one occasion when an old lady had to set a club whore straight. Usually, any new girls were taken and shown the ropes by a girl who had been around for a while. Whether or not they heeded the advice, given in their orientation, inevitably determined how many ass whippings they would have to endure.

  It took a certain kind of woman to break the news to them that they’re nothing more than club whores. They’re there to fuck and suck whichever members grab them by the arm or hair and lead them to a back room, darkened corner, or center of the room for everyone to witness them being used. Things like not smarting off to a club member or an old lady were lessons that were addressed quickly and with no mercy. It didn’t matter if one brother wanted them or six at a time; they were there to be used. They all had their own reasons for choosing to be there as a sweetbutt. Some liked to party, and some had hopes of becoming a brother’s old lady one day.

  Women like Raven and Daisy had been brought in as old ladies, and others worked their way up from being a club slut. Hell, there were even hang-arounds from the area who just came to the club to party. Regardless of what their position was in the hierarchy of the club, they learned the pecking order quickly, or they got the fuck out of dodge.

  Preacher looked around at the place he called home and felt a sense of just that—being at home. This was his family, these were his people, and there wasn’t one member that he wouldn’t take a bullet for.

  “Fuckin’ don’t like this shit, Tiny.” He shook his head, his expression full of contempt.

  “What’s that, Preach? What the fuck don’t you like, brother?”

  Preacher watched him take a drink of his beer and continued, “Motherfuckers should feel honored we gave them an opportunity to patch over. The only one who has had the decency to go ahead and cross over is Ricky.” He took his attention off Tiny for a minute and yelled out to the new prospect, “Get me a beer, prospect, and get some pretzels while you’re at it.” He watched as Ricky nodded, smiling as he got up to do what he’d been ordered to do.

  “See, that right there is what I’m talking about. That boy’s info was on the up and up, and he keeps a good attitude.”

  “He ain’t been here that long.”

  “That ain’t the point, Tiny.”

  “Then spit it out. What are you sayin’, Preach?”

  “I’m saying Hell’s Demons is over there carrying on like nothing has happened.”

  “So you wanna finish ‘em off?”

  “Damn straight I do. Let me take Nitro over there. He can work his magic.”

  “Want to blow them off the map, huh? Which head are you thinking with?”

  Preacher never hesitated and answered truthfully, “Both.”

  “A decision that big needs a vote. Something like that could have serious repercussions.”

  “Then let’s have the boys vote on it next meeting.”

  “Will do, Preacher.”

  Preacher felt a pair of eyes on him and looked over to see Kathleen staring at him. He shook his head and Tiny looked to see what caught his attention.

  “Better be careful, or there’s going to be one hell of a cat fight.”

  “Fuckin’ bitch doesn’t get it. She just doesn’t get that I don’t want her.”

  “You know how these bitches are. They think they can handle being a club slut, and then they get att
ached to a brother.”

  “I don’t trust the bitch.”

  Tiny chuckled, “When it’s all said and done, I don’t trust any bitch. You piss them off, and they will go for the jugular.”

  Daisy

  “You’re gonna have to beat that bitch’s ass,” Raven’s voice cut through Daisy’s thoughts. She continued talking, “Yep, you need to take that fucking beer bottle and hit that bitch over the head with it. Every bitch up in here is going to think they can fuck your man if you don’t. These club whores have got one thing on the brain, and that’s being an old lady. They have no problem moving your ass out of the way to do it either.”

  Daisy calmly grabbed the bottle she was drinking from and took a long pull as she made her way over to Kathleen.

  “You look nice tonight, Kathleen, except for that stain on your shirt right there.” When Kathleen looked down to see what she was talking about, Daisy used the heel of her hand and struck the girl in her nose. Kathleen immediately dropped to the floor and brought her hand to her face, trying to stem the flow of blood. Her screams of pain silenced the crowd of onlookers, who had now formed a half circle around the ensuing fight.

  “You fuckin’ bitch, you broke my nose.”

  “Here, let me help you wash the blood off,” Daisy offered as she stood over her. She slowly poured the rest of her beer on the girl, causing her to spit and sputter to keep from choking.

  Daisy positioned herself so that she was straddling Kathleen’s body as the girl writhed on the floor in pain. With lightning speed, she slammed the beer bottle on the floor and stuck its now jagged edge against the woman’s throat.

  “You stay the fuck away from my old man. If I catch you so much as looking at him, I’ll cut your throat and bury you in a shallow grave myself.” She leaned down and whispered in the girl’s ear, “Now would be a good time for you to get the fuck out of here.” Kathleen wasted no time peeling herself off the floor and limping out of the club as soon as Daisy released her.