by L. Grubb
“So nice,” I mumble into his chest. The heat in my core amplifies as he tickles over a turn-on spot of mine. Fuck. Warmth spreads through my body, making the hairs on my arms stand on end.
I soon feel my eyes drifting closed, dreams waiting for me. “I love you.”
“I love you too, sweetheart,” is the last thing I hear before dreams of London kidnap me into sleep.
Stepping down onto the tarmac at Heathrow airport, I feel the rain trickling down my back. The great British weather hits us as soon as we arrive. Fucking perfect.
“Ugh…rain? Already?” Lauren grumbles, holding her hands over her head in an attempt to fight off the raindrops from messing with her hair.
We make our way swiftly to the sheltered area by our rental cars, where a man is standing, in bike leathers, watching us approach.
“You must be Blade,” I say, stepping up to the tall dude and shaking his hand.
“That’s me. Which one are you?” he asks, curiosity in his eyes.
“Champ, and this is my Old Lady, Lauren.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Lauren,” Blade says, a slight smile on his mouth as he shakes her hand.
“Likewise,” she replies with a polite smile on her lips.
“So, where’s our first stop?” I ask, shoving my hands in my jacket pocket to keep warm.
“First, you head to your hotel because, to be quite honest, you both look like shite from the long flight.”
Is he fucking serious?
“On that note, we’ll head to our car and catch you later.” I take hold of Lauren’s hand and pull her toward the car where the prospect is waiting with our luggage, getting soaked from the heavy rainfall.
“You have the keys, Marcus? Because you were supposed to collect them.” I sigh, running a hand over the back of my neck.
“Yeah, just didn’t know if you wanted me to go ahead…” he trails off when I shoot him a menacing look.
“Are you fucking stupid? Our shit could be getting wet!” I shout at him, frustrated at his stupidity.
He tries stuttering a reply, but I wave my hand at him to get our stuff in the car. I escort Lauren to the passenger side, which is the opposite of usual, and rush around to climb into the driver’s seat.
It’s been many years since I’ve been in England, so driving a car, which is the wrong way around may be a little weird and take some getting used to. I just hope to fuck I don’t crash the damn thing.
Ah, noticing quickly I’ve been given an automatic makes life a fuck of a lot easier. I can thank Cobra for that later. He knows how much I hate driving British cars.
Thumbing in the zip code, or post code, whatever, into the built in GPS, I start the car and head toward the exit.
“Have you been to England before? I noticed the slight hesitancy when you got into the car and looked around?” Lauren asks, trying desperately to not laugh at me.
“Yeah, I have, thank you very much, just hate the damn backwardness of cars. But this is automatic, thank fuck.” Making our way out of Heathrow airport after going through border control and UK customs, I steer us in the direction the robotic woman’s voice tells us where to go.
The hotel suite is just as I’d hoped. I booked the top floor suite to make this trip special for Lauren. I watch from the sidelines as she looks around the room, her eyes lighting up in wonder.
“Wow,” is all she says, blinking rapidly, unshed tears glistening her eyes.
“Um…Why do you have tears in your eyes?” I rub the back of my neck, feeling uncomfortable and a little worried that she doesn’t like the room.
“It’s so beautiful…” she trails off, looking at me, and a smile, showing all her perfectly aligned teeth, spreads wide across her face.
Woman. They cry at everything. “It’s just a room, sweetheart.” I roll my eyes at her before leaving my post to wrap her in my arms. The sweet smell of honey suckle drifts up my nose, relaxing my tense muscles.
“I love you.” I hear her say, muffled by my shirt.
“I love you too, sweetheart.” I kiss the top of her head before pulling away. “I have shit to do with the club, you okay here to unpack your stuff?”
“Sure, I’ll text Alexis to come on up.” She smiles at me while dragging her cell from her pocket. She walks off to the bedroom to the left of the living area of the suite.
I walk to the fully stocked bar in the corner of the room, pulling a bottled water from the mini-fridge.
“Catch ya later!” I call out as I head out of the room. Punching the button for the elevator, I lean against the wall and tip my head back. However much I’d love to come to England for a vacation with Lauren, this isn’t a proper vacation. This is for work and shit needs to be done and quick.
After a short journey in the elevator, I step out to see the guys already congregated in the lobby.
“Champ! Get your ass over here already! We have to go meet Blade, and he doesn’t like to be kept waiting!” Prez shouts over to me, already halfway to the main entrance.
Jogging over to them, I fall into step between Cobra and Dope. “So, who is this Blade dude anyway?”
“He’s an enforcer over here, helps out clubs when they need it. I was told he was part of Devon Destroyers MC for a little while, fuck knows what happened there. Those guys are good people,” Cobra tells me.
“Ah, right. I’m guessing he’s helping the British Crusaders with this fuck up then.” I don’t pose this as a question; it’s just a mere observation.
We clamber into the mini bus that Prez hired to haul us all around in and we get strapped in. Fuck knows where we’re going, but Prez seems to know where to go.
Unpacking my suitcase, I lay everything out on the queen-sized bed before deciding where to put everything. At least I remembered to pack a jacket, just in case.
A light knock sounded on the suite door, and I leave the room to answer it. Poking my head out the door, I notice a glowing Alexis standing there, a smile fixed on her face. “Hey, girl!”
“Hey, back,” she replies, sauntering passed me and into the room. “Holy shit!”
“I know, right? It’s massive.” I shake my head, wondering if I looked as spellbound as Alexis does when I first entered the room. I shake my head and laugh at her as I head back to the bedroom to put my clothes away.
“Shit, Lauren. I thought mine and Cobra’s room was huge, but this…fucking Jesus.” She drops onto the bed, bouncing a few times before making herself comfortable. “They should make beds like these in the states. So damn comfy.”
“What do you want to do today?” I ask her as I hang my clothes in the wardrobe, as they call it here.
“Shopping? Duh. We’re in London. Stupid question, Lauren.” She crosses her feet at the ankle and leans back against the headboard.
“I don’t know why I bothered asking. Let me just put these last few things away, and we can leave.” Placing my panties in the top drawer of the dresser, I turn around and rub my hands together. Done.
“Let’s go.” She jumps up like a bee has stung her ass, and I laugh out loud and follow her out the bedroom.
I shrug my shoulders into my only jacket and place my cut over the top. I’m not leaving here without Champ’s stamp on me. I grab my purse and head out the suite doors, placing the key card in the safe compartment in my bag.
“Where to first?” Alexis asks, pressing the button for the elevator. “I hear the Burlington Arcade shopping mall is supposed to be pretty good, seeing as we’re in Piccadilly. Not sure how far that is from here, but we have prospects from the British chapter that can take us,” she says as we step into the chrome elevator.
“How do you know we have British prospects with us?” I ask curiously.
“Cobra told me and warned me not to try and lose them.” She rolls her eyes before tucking a stray hair behind her ear. “Typical caveman bullshit followed soon after that.”
“Don’t want to know, Alexis!” I hold my hands up in mock horror. Hell, I don’t want
to know her sex life any more than she wants to know mine.
She tips her head back and laughs. “All right, I’ll spare you the details. Anyway, the prospects should be by the lift doors, that’s what they call an elevator here, when they open. They’ll be waiting for us to appear.”
True to her word, when the doors open, four young, tough looking guys in Crusader cuts are standing there. Noticing us, they come over and introduce themselves in that delightful British accent.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Lauren, and this is Alexis.” We shake each of their hands before following them out in the light wisp of rain falling from the dark clouded sky.
They lead us to a shiny, black SUV with chrome wheels. Being gentleman, they open the door for us to hop in.
“Our men could take some tips from these guys.” I laugh, pointing a thumb to the prospects standing outside the SUV, conversing in whispers.
“I hope they hurry up, our jet lag will kick in pretty soon, and I need to check out some British shops.” Alexis moans, jutting her bottom lip out in a cute pout.
I tap on the window and sign for them to hurry up. “Here they come.”
“Where do you two wanna go?” I think his name is Rick, says from behind the wheel.
“Burlington Arcade shopping mall?” Alexis asks, fluttering her lashes. “You know where to go, right?”
“Of course, love. Have lived in London for a long time.” He laughs before throwing the car in gear and pulling out in the afternoon traffic.
Alexis and I converse quietly as Rick weaves in and out of the traffic like a pro. “I guess you’ve lived around here for a while if you can go through traffic like this.”
“You got that right, darlin’, only the good drivers can get around London and survive in one piece,” he replies, looking in his rear-view mirror at us.
I smile at him before turning my head to gaze out the window, watching the passing cars and scenery.
Entering the British Crusaders clubhouse was like walking in our one back home. The bar, the bedrooms and courtyard are placed exactly the same. The difference? All the British accents floating in the air.
After meeting Blade at some coffee shop called Costa, we loaded ourselves up with caffeine and tailed Blade back to the British chapter clubhouse in Tottenham. Why we chose to stay at The Ritz half an hour away from here is anyone’s guess. I’m all up for showing my girl a great time while in London, but that’s far out even if I say so, especially when we’re going to be here a lot of the time.
“Beer?” Blade turns and asks us.
“Sure, why not,” I reply for everyone, following him to the bar.
I look around the room at the different men mingling throughout the room, and notice a lot of the brothers are staring at us.
“You the lads from the states?” one of the burly men asks us.
“That’s right. The Prez is over there.” I point to the where Prez is standing, chatting with someone who’s cowering from him.
“Ah. Big boss. Heard you lot were coming over. We’re happy you agreed to come help us, mate. All of ya.” He tips his head at us before swiftly walking away.
Every chapter around the world has a Prez, but our Prez is the big one, his command is what goes. He’s under pressure a lot from having to manage everyone from around the world, and we understand that. That’s why we sometimes take shit into our own hands because he has enough on his plate. But, we would never disobey or dishonor him in any way.
“So, Blade, what are you here for? I hear you’re an enforcer and have no ties to any one club,” Cobra asks, tipping his head back and pouring an unhealthy amount of beer into his mouth.
“Yeah, I’m an enforcer. I’m here to help you boys out. I was patched into the Devon Destroyers MC for a while. I guess being tied to one club ain’t for me.” His somber expression speaks volumes for the shit he’s got going on in his head.
“You left a girl behind, didn’t you?” I ask boldly, not that I expect an answer. I mean, the dude doesn’t know me and doesn’t have to answer shit to me.
“You could say that. I’d rather not talk about it, yeah? I’m here to get you lot out of the shit storm you got yourselves into. It’s fucked up, mate.” He shakes his head and turns it when he hears his name being called. “Catch ya later.”
“He doesn’t want to be here any more than we do. It’s obvious he’s struggling with some shit, which is probably why he’s an enforcer,” Dope speaks up, giving his head a small shake before returning back to drinking his beer.
“Brothers!”
We all turn when we hear Prez calling for us. Placing our beer bottles back on the bar, we walk over to him, Cobra leading the pack.
“What’s up, Prez?” Cobra says, coming to a standstill in front of him.
“They’re calling Church so get your asses in there.” He storms off in the direction of church. My guess? It’s in the same fucking place as ours and is probably identical inside the room too.
As we file into the room, we hear loud voices coming from behind us, making us all halt in our tracks.
“You know what you are, and you know what this was! Fuck off before I fuckin’ make ya!” A large, overweight guy wearing a purple bandana is in some poor naked girl’s face. She looks petrified, clinging to her clothes, and her large eyes wide in fright.
“Hey! Fucking lay off will you? Who the fuck do you think you are getting into some girl’s face?” I pin the large guy to the wall by his throat, the surprised expression on his face makes me laugh inside.
“She’s a fucking whore, mate. Why would you give a fuck about a dirty slag?” He spits in my face, his vile breath washing over my face in a cloud of green fog. Gross.
“Whore or not, brother, she’s just a girl. I’m not sure how you British men like to treat woman, but us in the States know never to lay a hand on one. Do we have to teach you some basic manners while we’re here?” I sneer at him, disgust written across my face. If there’s one fucking thing I hate other than liars and paedophiles, it’s men who get kicks out of frightening girls.
His wide eyes stare at me, but he doesn’t reply. I push him a little harder into the wall and add a little more pressure to his throat. “What do you say to her?”
“Sorry, Loretta,” he mutters, eyes cast downward.
“Better. Now fuck off before I regret letting you go unharmed.” I release him, and he drops to the floor in a heap.
Turning back toward Church I notice everyone standing there, including our British brothers, smirking with their arms crossed over their chests.
“Enjoy the show? Fuck, let’s just get this over with, yeah?” I storm through them all and enter the main room. I was correct; it’s fucking identical.
We all take seats around the table with me, Cobra and Prez sitting at the top end of the table, showing our authority.
“Was this clubhouse built to look like ours n purpose?” I throw that out there, needing to know.
“Yeah, so when you yanks came over, you wouldn’t get homesick.”
I look at the man who answered. He has black buzz cut, beady eyes and a beard that could give Santa a run for his money. Raising a brow at him, I reply, “You seriously getting sarcastic right now, brother? I’m not in the mood for a cat fight.”
Everyone around the table laughs, Cobra shakes his head while holding his abdomen through his laughter.
It does the trick though; the man shuts up.
“All right, enough, boys. We need to discuss this shit you’ve managed to get us into, Mack, because I’m not fucking happy that I’ve had to come over,” Prez says, lighting a cigarette and blowing the smoke above his head. Mack is the British chapter’s Prez, the man in charge of the latest fuck up.
“We run drugs through this neighbourhood, and all over Tottenham, you know that. It’s what makes our money. Seems some dipshit in the club decided to venture out of our territory and into some gang shit. Not only that, we seem to have a snitch here too, which is why I only
brought my three uppers in here with us,” Mack tells us, rubbing a hand down his face.
“What do you mean, a snitch? How do you know that?” I ask, leaning back in my chair and crossing an ankle over my knee.
“’Cause every pickup we do, the fuckin’ Old Bill turns up before us, before we can even get handle on our stuff,” Mack replies, frustration flaring across his face.
“What’s Old Bill?” Cobra asks, raising a brow in confusion.
“Police, dumbass,” beardy guy says, fire burning in his eyes.
I guess he doesn’t like us very much.
“Calm it, Fred. Stop with the hostility before I kick your arse out of Church,” Mack spits out at him. “I’m sure the big Prez wouldn’t mind doing the honors.”
Beardy, whose name we now know is Fred, scoffs at him, turning his head away to look at the wall.
As conversation about who the snitch could be, the one who is feeding the cops in-house stuff flows, and Cobra and Prez get into a heated discussion about the drugs and gangs.
“Hold up, lads!” Mack says, standing from his seat. “We need to figure out the gang shit first. They’re not like the gangs in New York, I’m sure. But they’re a gang none-the-less. The quicker we eliminate those arseholes, the quicker we can figure out the mess with the rat.”
We quickly get to work on who the gang are; names, places, their prominent colors and where they hang.
Hearing most of the names, I send Chip a text with them to get addresses, pronto. After sending the text, I quickly shoot one off to Lauren to see if she’s okay, and to tell her I miss her. Damn it, she’s turned me into a mushy bastard.
L: Miss u too, babe. Shopping in Piccadilly wiv Alexis. X
Her text brings a smile to my face.
“What you smiling about, brother?” Cobra asks, trying to peek over my shoulder at my phone.
“Nothing.” I shove my phone back into my jean pocket and fold my hands on the table, looking at everyone talking and planning.