Strays (Red Kings MC Book 1)

by Eliza Marsh

  “You sure that’s a good idea, Vic?” Barry raised an eyebrow and poured two shots, one for himself and one for his long-time drinking buddy, as they watched Tyler throw himself into the fray. “Poor kid’s gonna get eaten alive.”

  “Let’s drink to that.” The men clinked glasses, laughing. “Gotta make sure he has the stones to run with us.”

  After five minutes, three broken tables, a busted speaker, and a smashed guitar later, the fight was over. Everyone was bruised and bleeding, save Vic and Barry, who had watched the whole thing from the bar. There were no serious injuries on the bikers’ end except for Benz, who had a nasty gash on his left arm. One of the shitheads had pulled a knife on him but thankfully hadn't been very skilled with it. All the rest had split lips, bruised knuckles, or swollen faces. They would surely sport matching black eyes in the morning.

  “You hit like a bitch, asshole!” Jagger spat blood on the floor and yelled as a guy that looked decidedly worse than him scampered away.

  The guy that had started the fight was being dragged out by his friends, Finn having done a number on him. Even though the bikers were outnumbered, they were not beyond fighting dirty. These kids had nothing on them, and it proved true when they tucked their tails between their legs and booked it out of the bar.

  “Did you knock that asshole out with a mop?” Lincoln looked at his brother and grinned. “I'm impressed.”

  “What can I say?” Finn took a drag of his beer while the rest of his brothers sat back down at the bar. “I learned from the best.” He nodded his head in Vic’s direction before turning to Tyler. “You managed to hold your own too, kid.”

  Just as Tyler was about to respond, the front door opened and the blonde the whole fight was about waltzed through it. Her heels clicked on the floor, and she threw a flirty smile at Tyler before leaning into Finn and whispering in his ear. She stuffed a piece of paper in his hand and made her way back out, swaying her hips while the guys watched.

  Finn grinned at them when she left, dropping the napkin containing her name and phone number on top of the bar.

  The group roared with laughter, Finn and Lincoln clinking their beer bottles as Tyler shook his head.

  “Now, that’s how it’s done!”

  “Maybe we should make this a weekly thing?”

  35

  Jackie slowly trudged into her and Tyler's apartment late in the afternoon, wanting nothing more than a quiet night in front of the television. Bianca had given her some work to do at the garage to earn some extra cash while she was pregnant, refusing to let her look for a real job in her condition. But dealing with people and mechanics and paperwork wasn't nearly as easy as it sounded, and Jackie was finding the work to be incredibly draining on her already-exhausted body. Not that she would say no to the money, though; she needed all of the cash she could get if her plans to leave Lakeside in the next few weeks were going to happen.

  She tossed her purse and keys on the table by the door and entered the small living room to the left, surprised to find her roommate already glued to the television. “Well hey, stranger.”

  Tyler lazily lifted his head to look over the back of the couch he was laying on. He was usually coming and going at odd hours, much like during their time in Georgia, and the only time they spent together was the rare few moments they both happened to be at the garage. “Hey,” he said with a quiet smile. “Was hoping I'd get to see you tonight.”

  She walked around the side of the couch and climbed over Tyler to settle herself between the back cushions and his body, resting her head tiredly on his chest and wrapping an arm around his ribcage. “I've missed you.”

  “Missed you too,” he replied, his own arm coming to lay across her shoulders and the other grabbing the hand on his stomach. “How're you doing?”

  “Fine. Tired. Bianca's got me doing grunt work. Just until I find something better.” She added the last part quickly at his confused expression, not wanting to explain to him that she wasn't actually looking for a job because she planned to disappear soon. “How are you? Getting along with everyone?”

  “Yeah, I like it here. Everything is really chill. Finn is sponsoring me as his first prospect.”

  She stared up at him blankly. “Which means what exactly?”

  “He's supposed to be my mentor, I guess. It's his responsibility if I fuck up.”

  “Right, well, that's good. I'm glad you've got somebody watching out for you.” It would make it a little bit easier when the time came to leave.

  They laid in silence for a while, eyes watching the program on the television, but neither really paying attention to it. “You talked to Dean?” Tyler asked as casually as he could.

  Jackie tensed at the question, not wanting to have this conversation yet again. She had told her best friend about the fight that had transpired between her and the Macon biker the day she'd decided to leave. Tyler, therefore, assumed that this lovers' quarrel was just a phase that the two would get over sooner or later.

  “I'll call Dean when he stops killing people for a living,” she replied testily, sticking as close to the truth as she could without revealing her pregnant state.

  Tyler rolled his eyes at the statement, thinking she was a bit dramatic considering the kinds of people that Dean actually killed. He let it go regardless, knowing that his friend would be steadfast in her argument until proven otherwise, and he was not the guy for that job. Instead, he tried a different approach. “I can tell you miss him.” She stayed quiet but started fiddling with a loose string on his shirt. “I haven't seen a real smile from you in weeks. You don't go out unless you have to. You don't socialize with anyone.”

  “I'm still settling in, that's all. I don't know anyone yet, but I'm working on it,” Jackie lied, keeping her eyes glued to the television.

  “I can't remember the last time you picked up a paintbrush.”

  That was true. She hadn't been able to find any inspiration since her arrival in Lakeside except for a few odd pieces that she finished up. Every time she tried to start a new painting, she ended up staring at the blank canvas for half an hour. “Fine, so I'm having a little trouble dealing with this shit. It's normal.”

  “It's not normal to move to another state.”

  She glared up at him, propping her elbow on his chest to balance her head in her hand. “You're supposed to be on my side, Ty.”

  “I am on your side, babe.” He ran a hand affectionately through her long, dark tresses. “I'm always on your side. Doesn't mean I can't think that you're making a huge mistake by not at least giving him a call.”

  “He's the one that ended things.”

  “You're the one that left.”

  “He's the one that got you transferred knowing I would go with you.”

  “Did he specifically say 'I want to end things between us'?”

  Jackie narrowed her eyes as her friend refused to give up the fight. “No, but he specifically said 'I could snap your neck with my bare hands,' and I took it as a sign. How would you interpret that?”

  “I'd say he was having a very bad day, and in the heat of the moment, he said some things that he probably regrets now. But he can't call to tell you that because he has to protect his biker image.” Rolling her eyes, she dropped her head back to his chest and ignored the excuses he gave for the man's behavior. “I bet he misses you as much as you miss him.”

  “Shut up, Tyler.”

  36

  The Florida sun was situated high in the bright July sky as Jackie drove along the interstate with the windows down, letting in the humid summer air. With a pair of sunglasses perched on the bridge of her nose, she admired the palm trees and coastal scenery presented to her on the journey out of Lakeside.

  A loud groan from the passenger seat momentarily diverted her attention from the road as she looked at her traveling companion.

  “Are we there yet?” Jagger asked with a yawn as he sat up to look at their surroundings, noting sadly that they were still on the interst
ate. “Oh.”

  Jackie laughed and focused her attention back on the empty stretch of pavement ahead of them. “We'll be there in a few minutes. You know, you really didn't need to come with me. I've been to the gallery before. I think I can handle it.”

  “I'm sure you can, sweetcheeks. I'm just here for backup in case any snobby buyers try to cheat you out of some cash.” She couldn't help but smile as Jagger gave her a mischievous grin. In truth, he was there because of the antagonistic relationship they currently had with the Dead Saints MC. They didn't want to take any chances, and that meant having somebody accompany Jackie on her trips to the city.

  “Well, thank you. I know you guys were up late last night. You must be exhausted.” They came to the exit ramp designated for Jacksonville traffic and turned, heading towards the downtown area where the art gallery was located.

  “I don't mind. I get to spend time with my favorite girl.” A wink and a laugh followed his statement. “But you can always buy me some lunch to make up for dragging me out of bed at the crack of dawn.”

  “Ten is the crack of dawn? Well, excuse me. I seem to be unaware of that. But I suppose we can stop and eat if you promise not to beat up any senior citizens while we're here.” They pulled into the small lot in front of the gallery, and Jackie parked the truck in her usual spot, raising her eyebrows at Jagger's mock-indignation.

  “You're gonna go there? It was one time. One time! And mostly an accident,” he said, trying to defend his actions from their last adventurous outing.

  “Right, of course.” She looked at him in disbelief as they got out of the vehicle. “Make yourself useful and grab the paintings, please.” Jagger obliged grudgingly and picked up the two canvases from the bed of the truck, then followed the young woman to the storefront.

  They shuffled past an elderly couple exiting the building, and Jackie could hardly contain her laughter as Jagger mustered up all the politeness in his body to smile and greet them. He even went as far as holding the door open for the old lady.

  “See? I can be nice,” he muttered stubbornly as they entered the spacious room. Jackie's eyes swept around as she looked for Diane, the gallery owner. Spotting her at the desk near the back, she made a beeline for the woman.

  Jagger paced around the room in boredom, his stomach growling in anticipation as he thought of the food that awaited him as soon as Jackie finished. A ringing cell phone disrupted the quiet of the gallery, and he reached into his pocket to silence the mobile device as he received glares from both patrons and employees.

  “I'll just go outside and take this,” he muttered cheekily as Diane motioned him out of the building. “What's up, Nash?” he said into the phone as he stepped onto the sidewalk. “How's life in Macon?”

  “I'm gonna kill somebody.”

  The Lakeside biker snorted at the usually peaceful man's words and placed his free hand on his hip as he looked into the store window to watch Jackie. “Dean still being his charming self, huh?”

  “How'd you guess?” Nash replied sarcastically. “His new 'I hate the world' bullshit is really grating on my nerves.”

  “Yeah, I heard about all of the fights and meltdowns he's been having. Must be real fun.”

  “You don't know the half of it. I keep trying to convince him that getting rid of Jackie was the dumbest thing he's ever done, but it's like talking to a goddamn brick wall.”

  Jagger watched the woman in question as she hung up one of her new paintings in a space on the gallery wall, scrutinizing its position before smiling in satisfaction. “Dean, the killer that I've known for years, is heartbroken like some love-drunk pussy?” he asked skeptically. “You've got to be kidding me.”

  “You haven't seen him. If he doesn't kill himself doing something stupid in the next week, I'm gonna kill him. I need you to talk to Jackie. Bianca tried, but she obviously didn't accomplish much. I was hoping you'd have better luck.”

  “You want me to talk mushy love stuff with a woman? Are you insane?”

  “Besides hauling Dean's ass down there and locking the two in a room together until they make up, I don't have any better ideas.” The older man sighed on the other end of the line. “Bianca told me that Jackie was planning on leaving town at the end of the month. I'm almost out of time and completely out of options. I can't watch Dean tear himself up anymore.”

  “Alright, alright. I'll give it a shot. But I don't fucking guarantee anything.” A movement in the reflection on the glass window caught Jagger's attention, and he frowned at what he saw. “Hey, I gotta go. I'll let you know how the talk goes.” He hung up without waiting for an answer and quickly made his way inside.

  Three bikers from the Dead Saints MC watched him go as they sat patiently on their parked motorcycles across the street.

  “Jack, you about ready?” Jagger asked as he repeatedly glanced over his shoulder at the bikers. They must have caught on to the fact that the Kings were making frequent trips into their territory. The men playing escort had been sure to remove their kuttes each time and purposefully didn't drive their club-endorsing bikes, but seemingly to no avail.

  Looking up in confusion at his slightly hurried tone, Jackie nodded hesitantly. “I just need to pick up my check from Diane's office.”

  “Well, how about you go do that. I skipped breakfast. If I don't eat soon, I'm gonna pass out.” There was no point in freaking her out by telling her that a rival MC had spotted them. Besides, it wasn't her they were after. He waved his hands towards the back of the gallery when she didn't move, then gave her a little shove to get her going. “C'mon, c'mon.” Ever since the Kings had visited the warehouse near the border of Lakeside, the Saints had been popping up everywhere, and it was starting to become a problem.

  The two exited the building a few minutes later as Jagger demanded that he drive. “Okay, jeez. You can drive. What's the hurry?” No sooner had she tossed him the keys did a group of motorcycles fire up, drawing her attention to the threatening bikers situated on the other side of the road. “Oh,” she mumbled, then jumped into the truck without being prompted. “What are they doing here?” she whispered loudly as Jagger started the engine and peeled out of the lot.

  “Probably just want to see what a biker like me is doing in Jacksonville. No need to worry, doll.”

  Jackie kept her eyes locked on the side mirror as they drove, watching the bikes follow them at a steady pace. “Oh yeah, and how long are they gonna tail us?”

  “Just until we're off their territory. Relax, they're not going to make a scene in the middle of downtown. Not with only three guys.” Jagger momentarily wondered if Dean had taught Jackie to leave a gun in her truck at all times, then made a mental note to get her one just in case. They drove quickly back the way they came out of town and onto the highway. A few miles down the road, the Saints seemed to be pleased with the distance and disappeared from the rear-view mirror in seconds. Both occupants of the vehicle breathed a sigh of relief and sat back more comfortably in their seats.

  “How about some lunch?” Jackie looked over at the biker, thinking maybe he had gone crazy. “What? I gotta eat. I'm a growing boy.”

  She smirked and eyed his midsection as she teasingly mumbled, "You can say that again." Jagger glared at her and took the next exit, which brought them to a gas station and a small restaurant seemingly in the middle of nowhere. They parked and entered the building, where they were seated by a young waitress at a booth next to the window and, at the biker's request, away from the other customers. Keys and sunglasses were placed to the side of the table as they surveyed the dated decor of the eatery.

  They placed their orders a few minutes later with the same girl, who seemed to be the only one in the place to wait on the small handful of patrons.

  “So, Nash called me,” Jagger said awkwardly, hoping this conversation that he had promised to have would go quick and smooth.

  “I don't want to talk about it.”

  He sat in silence after hearing her words, wondering if tha
t meant he didn't have to pursue any further conversation. But the quickness in her response made him slightly curious, so he sighed in defeat and tried a different approach. “He said that Dean isn't doing too good.” This seemed to get her attention a bit, but her eyes stayed trained on the silverware she was fiddling with. “Said he's been in a pissy mood since you left.”

  “He wanted me gone.”

  Jagger nodded, not able to deny that fact. “Yeah, he might have at the time. I think he's starting to realize that wasn't the greatest idea.” Jackie looked up at him curiously, knowing that if Jagger was going through the discomfort of having this conversation with her, then there was some value to what he was saying. “He needs you, sweetheart. He'll never, ever tell you that, but he does. I've seen the way you two act together. And I know that he's not perfect at this whole relationship bullshit, but you have to give him a chance. Guys like us aren't great with these kinds of things. I'm sure if you talked it out, you could go back to being... whatever it is you guys used to be.”

  “I can't, Jagger.”

  “Can't what? Commit to fucking his brains out every night? From what I hear, you guys had no trouble with that.” It was hard not to smile at his words as images of past late-night encounters with Dean filled her head. They had done a lot of messing around during their time together. The result of their activities was the reason she was in this situation to begin with. “I don't see why everyone is making such a big deal about this. Just go back to Macon, have some great makeup sex, and forget any of this bullshit ever happened. You lovebirds will be as good as new.”

  “What about my paintings at the gallery? I'm starting to build a name for myself here.” Jackie was trying to give him a legitimate excuse not to go back without telling him the main reason that was currently residing in her pregnant stomach. The gallery wasn't that big of a deal really. All she had to do was ship new paintings every few months and have Diane mail her the check.