Strays (Red Kings MC Book 1)

by Eliza Marsh

  Nash pulled out a cigarette and lit it, enjoying the torment he was causing the already-tense man next to him. It wasn't that he was like the Doctor Phil of the group or anything; he didn't go around trying to counsel people. But sometimes the men of the club needed someone to listen to them and not crack jokes about their masculinity, and Nash didn't mind that role. It made people trust him, which kept him well informed on the inner-workings of the club. He could tell when someone was about to snap, and he usually knew how to fix it.

  That was his job. Prevent trouble within the charter.

  And all of this pent up bullshit that Dean had collected was without a doubt causing problems. The past few weeks had been nothing but tension in the clubhouse. Everyone was walking on eggshells around the Vice President to avoid a confrontation with his shorter-than-ever fuse. It was as though the half of Dean that had been relatively normal and easy-going had stayed behind in Lakeside, leaving the cold and distant killer to walk alone in Macon. He had become more temperamental and only showed his face for meetings and necessary work at the garage. Any attendance of standard parties involved him confiscating most of the hard liquor for himself. His first solution to any problem, personal or club-related, seemed to include fists and alcohol.

  Nash was determined to sit here all night if he had to. He was going to put an end to all of this shit. He just hoped that his brother would be willing to talk. And to listen.

  “How do I fix all of this?” Dean asked a few minutes later. “I just want things back the way they were.”

  Puffing on his cigarette, Nash remained quiet for a few minutes, then asked, “What is it exactly that you want to fix?”

  “I got what I wanted – Jackie is gone, and I'm free to go back to my old ways without having to worry about anyone. But it doesn't feel right.”

  Silence reigned once again as both men thought things over.

  “Are you sure that's what you wanted?” Dean looked down at his friend in confusion. “If it doesn't feel right, then something is missing. Jackie is missing. Face it, she's a part of who you are now. It's not gonna go away just because she left.”

  A look of skepticism crossed over Dean's face. “Whatever happened, happened. There's no changing it now. She's long gone, and she's young. She'll move on quick.”

  Oh, how wrong you are, Nash thought with a smile as he imagined what a pregnant-Jackie would look like. “It's been less than a month. I seriously doubt she's forgotten about you just yet, brother.”

  “How do you figure that? Have you talked to her?”

  “Actually, I haven't,” he lied smoothly, not wanting to get into the specifics of the conversation he had with the woman just days before. “But now that you mention it, I should probably call her.” Nash narrowed his eyes at the younger man beside him, hoping he'd listen. “Better yet, you should call her.”

  Dean started shaking his head before Nash had finished speaking. “And say what? 'I know last time we talked, I told you that I liked to kill people and then you skipped town, but I just wanted to call and see how you’re doing.'”

  Nash rolled his eyes at the sarcasm, wondering if any rational thoughts were going through his friend's head at the moment. “She cares about you. You need to show her that you care for her too.”

  “Fuck, Nash. The whole damn city knows that I care about her. She was the only girl I slept with for eight months. That's like an actual fucking relationship for me. And look how that turned out. Why would I bother doing it again?” Dean sighed in frustration and ran his hands over his face. “Whether or not I care for her isn't the problem. You saw what I was turning into with her around. I was becoming a little pussy. I couldn't do my job. I was distracted all the time. This club is all that I've ever had. My loyalty to the club has to come before anything else.”

  It was easy to see the conflicting emotions on Dean's face, as the cold anger tried to gain dominance over the affection that he felt for Jackie. It was also easy to see which one was currently winning the battle.

  “I see what you're turning into without her here. You're angry, standoffish, and rude. Nobody wants to be around you. Hell, it seems like you don't want to be around anyone either. While this version of you may be the better killer, he also forgets the reasons why he joined this club in the first place. He forgets the importance of family and friends. The things he started killing people to protect.” Nash tossed his cigarette stub on the ground and let out a final breath of smoke. This tactic of persuasion clearly wasn't helping to convince Dean that he needed to fix things with Jackie. “Okay, so what if she is with another guy. Would that satisfy you? Would that make your life go back to normal?”

  Nash could see Dean's nostrils flare at the mere thought of his lady with someone else, but the response he gave was less enthusiastic. “She deserves a guy that can give her everything.”

  Rolling his eyes at the obvious avoidance of the question, Nash tried again. “That's not what I asked. Would you go back to your old self if she had moved on? Would you forget all about her?” Dean looked hesitantly at the other biker, at a loss for words. “There's no going back, brother. It looks like you're either an angry, lonely guy for the rest of your life, or you go get your girl and be happy.”

  For a second, Nash thought he had finally broken through the hard exterior shell, but the moment passed, and a defeated Dean stood up stiffly. “She needs a lot more than I can give her. It doesn't matter how I feel. It's what's best for both of us. I can be the killer, and she can get on with her life.”

  With those words, Dean turned and trudged slowly back into the clubhouse, leaving Nash to toss his hands up in annoyance. He didn't know what else to do to convince the man that he needed Jackie as much as she needed him.

  29

  Jackie got out of the shower, dripping water on the floor as she crossed the small bathroom to grab a towel from the counter. She stared at her growing baby bump in the mirror as she dried herself off, wondering just how long she would be able to hide her new attribute from the rest of Lakeside. Baggy clothing would only shield it from view for so long.

  Entering her bedroom, the woman began to dress in whatever her hands grabbed from the chest of drawers. She slipped a blue tank top over her head and was annoyed when she had to stretch it over her stomach. Maternity clothes weren't going to be avoidable much longer.

  “Shit! When did I get so fat?” Groaning, she grabbed a large sweatshirt from the floor of her closet and covered the tank top with it. She didn't bother trying to put on any pants that weren't elastic, even though her favorite jeans were laying mockingly on top of her dresser. She wasn't going to be able to stay in Lakeside much longer if she wanted to keep this baby a secret from the club.

  A knock at the front door brought her from her train of thought.

  “It's open!” Jackie yelled from the bedroom, cursing as soon as the words left her mouth as she recalled the conversation with Jagger just a few weeks ago. “Fuck,” she mumbled, assuming it was him at the door and knowing he would lecture her again for not locking it.

  Jackie quickly finished towel-drying her hair as she heard the door click shut. Her feet made little noise against the hardwood floor as she walked down the hall towards the open living space of the apartment. However, she was surprised to see Bianca standing in her tiny kitchen.

  “Hey, sweetheart. I was at the store, so I picked up a few things for you.” The older woman motioned to the grocery bags sitting on the counter that she was currently in the process of emptying.

  “Wow, thanks. I've been meaning to go to the store. I haven't really felt like doing much but painting these past few days.” Jackie picked up a carton of milk and placed it in the refrigerator before spying a bag of chips and getting a sudden craving to put them on a grilled cheese sandwich.

  “Yeah, it's hard to have the energy to do much of anything when you're pregnant.”

  The words broke Jackie out of her daze quickly, and she spun around, staring at the woman now leaning a
gainst the counter, arms crossed over her chest. “What?” She tried her best to seem genuinely confused, but one look at Bianca's expression told her that the biker queen wasn't buying it.

  “Honey, those big clothes don't hide as much as you think. I'm assuming that's why you're here in Lakeside.”

  “I'm not pregnant. I just haven't been exercising as much lately. I've been busy.”

  “You can tell me the truth, or we can call Dean, and you can tell him since he probably doesn't know about it. It is Dean's baby, isn't it?”

  Jackie moved to the kitchen table and sat down, sighing as she rested her elbows on the table and put her head in her hands. “Of course it's Dean's baby. But everyone knows that he isn't exactly the parenting type.”

  “You're not giving the guy enough credit. You could have at least asked him if he wanted to give it a try.”

  The younger woman cut her eyes up at Bianca, giving her an exasperated look. “The last time I talked to Dean, he beat the shit out of some guy and then informed me that he killed people for a living. I didn't think slipping in the fact that I'm having his baby was appropriate at that point in the conversation.”

  Bianca sighed and took the seat next to Jackie at the table. “Dean isn't all bad. You know that as well as I do. You were with him for quite some time. Did you ever doubt him? He loves and protects his family, and he's as loyal as they come. He would never hurt you or the baby.”

  “He kills people, Bianca! How am I supposed to live with that? How am I supposed to raise a child in that kind of environment?”

  “Oh, you're overreacting. It's not like Dean walks down the street and shoots everyone he sees. He does it because the club needs it done.” Bianca leaned forward to look Jackie straight in the eye, all bullshit put aside. “This club is a family. And we do whatever is necessary to protect the people in it. If that means killing someone, then so be it.”

  “Bianca-”

  “You're a part of this family. Whether you or anyone else likes it, there are people that care about you in this club. You don't have to agree with what they do, but you need to accept it and move on. Take the good and the bad of club life and make the most of it. Besides, it's not like you can keep this from Dean forever. He'll find out about the baby from someone as soon as you tell the rest of the guys.”

  Jackie paused, hesitantly glancing at the woman across from her. “I wasn't going to tell anyone.”

  “Sweetheart, the boys aren't stupid. They'll notice the bump in another month or so. How were you planning on getting around that?”

  Fiddling with her fingernails as her hands rested nervously on the table, Jackie took a deep breath before replying. “I'm not staying in Lakeside.” Confusion crossed over Bianca's face, but the artist gave her no time to speak. “The plan was always to be here until Tyler got settled in and then leave. I didn't want to make him start over in a new place by himself, but I knew I couldn’t live in Lakeside permanently. I don't want to cause any trouble because I know Dean will find out about this baby at some point.”

  “I really think you should talk to him before you make a decision. He cares about you. Who do you think is paying for this apartment?” It was Jackie's turn to look confused as she recalled the conversation about the club's available apartments. “It doesn't belong to the club. I had to pull some serious strings to get it on such short notice. But Dean wanted only the best for you.”

  Silence enveloped the room as Jackie processed the information. After some thought, she concluded that sending money for rent did not equate to wanting to settle down and take care of a baby. “He won't have to pay for it much longer. I'll be out of here soon.”

  “You need to call him,” Bianca said softly, with an undertone of a firm order.

  “I can't. He loves this club more than anything. A baby would completely mess up everything he's worked for. I can't do that to him.” She sniffed back tears, then changed direction with her argument. “And I can't do that to my child, give it a murderer for a father. Someone who could end up in jail at any second. It wouldn't be fair.”

  Bianca sighed, not one to easily give up a fight, but knowing when to quit. “Fine, but at least think over what I said.” She stood up and grabbed her sunglasses and purse from the counter before heading to the door. “You call me if you need anything.”

  “Thanks, Bianca. For the groceries and the talk.”

  The biker queen smiled sadly at Jackie as she exited the apartment, hoping that things would all work out. As the door shut behind her, she pulled out her cell phone and dialed a number that was becoming much more familiar.

  “How'd it go?” The rough voice on the other end asked after a few rings.

  “Not as well as you'd hoped. She's struggling with the whole killing thing, but now she's also afraid she'll ruin his life if he has to take care of a kid.” She paused briefly as she thought it over, then continued. “She's right, you know. He won't be the same if he has a child to think about.”

  She could hear Nash sigh and pictured him running his hand through his short hair. “I know, but he's losing it here. He's going to get himself killed or thrown in jail if he keeps this shit up. A baby will do him some good, rein him in a little.”

  Bianca rolled her eyes, realizing she wasn't going to deter the Macon biker from his plan. “I sincerely doubt that. But for Jackie's sake, I hope you're right. She's planning on leaving Lakeside, so you better get Dean to his senses quickly.”

  30

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah, saw them today. Want us to do something about it? Check it out?”

  Chief Greg Myers sighed as he ran a hand over his balding head. This had trouble written all over it. “Nah. It’s outside of town. Not our jurisdiction.” Picking up his keys, he headed towards the door, looking at the young officer over his shoulder. “Keep an eye on them, just in case. We don’t want anything happening this side of the border.”

  “Okay, Chief.”

  He made his way out of the station, pulling his sunglasses from the pocket on his uniform that he was dying to get out of. Myers wasn’t sure he deserved to wear it, what with the shit he had going on the side. He approached his police cruiser and unlocked the door. Some Chief of Police he was.

  Driving down Main Street, he observed the town that had remained unchanged for many years. People greeted their neighbors and friends on the sidewalk, the thought of strangers invading Lakeside far from their minds. Kids played safely in the streets, protected from the harsh reality of crime and violence. Bad shit didn’t happen here.

  Taking a left turn, Myers entered the lot of Vic's Auto. The Red Kings were the driving force in Lakeside. The cops had tried dozens of times to make charges stick for their illegal activities, but it never worked. It was easier to look the other way at this point, as long as they weren't bothering the regular civilians.

  The chief shook his head and parked, getting out of the cruiser. The lot was full of bikes, as usual, and a few cars were waiting either for their owners to pick them up or for the mechanics to move them into the garage. Looking around, he saw Finn roll out from underneath a silver Ford, a cigarette behind his ear. The younger man threw him a quizzical look and rose to meet him.

  “Chief. To what do we owe the pleasure?”

  Myers nodded his head in greeting. He’d always liked the kid, even if Finn was a little too much trouble as a teenager. “We need to talk. Is Vic here?”

  “Yeah, inside the clubhouse.” Leading the way, the biker looked over his shoulder. “Has something happened?”

  “Not yet.”

  As he entered the Kings' hangout, the chief made a face. It was apparent there had been a party the previous night. The bar and tables were littered with empty bottles, and the ashtrays were overflowing. Benz was sprawled out on the sofa, one hand thrown over his eyes and the other holding a fresh beer. Johnny was sitting on an old stool, leaned back against the bar and smoking a cigarette as he laughed at Tyler, who was unsuccessfully trying
to find his missing pants. Jagger was resting his head on the bar, using his hands to cover his ears as he tried to block out the world.

  Vic entered the room, looking refined as always and much more sober than the others. “Myers.” His eyebrows rose high on his forehead. “Anything we can help you with?”

  “It’s the other way around. We have to talk.”

  Vic nodded, looking around the room. “Where’s Lincoln?”

  “Went home. Something about having to take the kid to the zoo.” Finn smiled, lighting up a cigarette. “You know how Lana is about that shit.”

  “Don’t I.” Laughing, Vic went to the bar and thumped Jagger on the back. “Wake up, Jag. We have a visitor.” He glanced towards the police chief. “This important? As you can see, I’m missing some of my men.”

  “Fill them in later.” He paused, looking around the room. “It’s about the Saints.”

  As soon as the words left his mouth, all of the room’s occupants went on alert, giving him their full attention.

  “One of my guys saw a few of them earlier, out near the town border. They were hanging around that old warehouse off State Road Twenty-One.”

  “Who saw them?” Jagger sounded half-dead, looked it too.

  “One of my deputies doing his morning patrol, Benson.”

  “You trust him?” Vic asked, the suspicion in his voice loud and clear.

  “He may not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but the boy ain’t blind. He knows what he saw.” Waiting for Vic’s nod, Myers turned towards the door. “Anyway, that’s all he said. I just thought you’d want to know.” He shrugged, stopping by the exit. “I’ll tell you if I find out anything else.”

  “Thanks, Chief. We appreciate the heads up.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” The older man went on his way, leaving the club to its business. He’d done what he came here for, no need to linger. He just hoped that whatever happened now didn’t up the body count in Lakeside. He was optimistic, though. He kept the Kings in the loop, and they, in turn, kept their shit outside the town. That’s how things worked around here.