Royal Blood Complete Series Box Set

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Royal Blood Complete Series Box Set Page 35

by August Davies


  Should I call him right now? What the fuck are you thinking, Brendan? You know the rules—don't seem too desperate. I reluctantly put the paper back in my vest and poured another shot of whiskey.

  Why did this guy have such a hold on me? I should have fucked him already and tossed him to the side.

  Hammer fell out of his office, no doubt suffering from the same hangover.

  “Crazy night.” He slapped me on the back and drank straight from the bottle of whiskey. Hammer looked at his watch. “It's already past noon. Wake everybody up so we can open.”

  The Dark Steel MC owned a restaurant called The Burger Joint to be used as a front to launder money back in the late 1970's. It wasn't supposed to make any money but instead became a destination spot for outlaws to gather. Over the years, the burgers brought in more money than the drugs and guns combined. It was steady and clean—exactly what a perfect front should be.

  The back of The Burger Joint was where the Dark Steel MC was headquartered. It was a small double-story warehouse that we transformed into our meeting place. The first floor consisted of pool tables and a bar. The back was a private room where we held our club votes. Upstairs had a few bedrooms—including mine—that members used from time to time.

  “Everyone up!” I yelled. Some guys rolled around a bit while others didn't move an inch. I put two fingers in my mouth and whistled so loud it could wake the dead. Half-naked men and women peeled themselves off the floor. The men gravitated towards the bar. I went through the front and into the restaurant. I took out the keys, unlocked the door, and switched the open sign on.

  I went back into the club and more guys were awake. I passed them by and went upstairs. My room was a place where I could crash when the nights went too long or if I was trying to hide out from the cops. For some reason, last night, I never made it up the stairs. I grabbed some fresh clothes out of the closet and took a warm shower. The thought of Shawn came back to me and wouldn't leave. My cock was begging to sink into that sweet ass of his. I had to see him again.

  I turned off the shower and hugged a towel around my hips. I pulled my phone out of my jeans and the paper from my vest. Butterflies bumped around in my stomach. My breathing quickened. I felt like a little boy again with a crush. I punched the numbers in and held my breath while the phone rang.

  “Hello?” His voice was the same from last night—hard and undeniably sexy.

  “Hey Shawn, it's Brendan...from last night.”

  “How could I forget. I'm glad you called me.”

  “I was wondering if you wanted to get a bite to eat tonight?” I couldn't believe I was asking him on a date. The last time I asked a guy out on a date was never. I didn't do the whole romance thing. I used men for sex and moved on. They had no other use to me. But Shawn was different.

  “I'm sorry, I can't,” Shawn replied.

  My heart dropped to the floor. My hands went numb and I almost dropped the phone. I couldn't believe he was rejecting me again.

  I was ready to hang up on him when he spoke up, “I mean I can't go out tonight. I have to work.”

  Relief flooded me. “How about after work? What time do you get off?”

  “I have an earlier shift tonight so I get off around ten. I have some homework to do but I can put that off.”

  “I'll pick you up at the club and we can get a bite to eat.”

  “All right,” he whispered back.

  I hung up the phone before saying goodbye. I had to leave him wanting more. At least my mind was somewhat working. But the desire in my pants reminded me of what I really needed. I'd use Shawn just like every other man. Flood his ass with my cum and never see him again—that was the Dark Steel way.

  I went back downstairs and the place was buzzing. A big difference from the graveyard I stumbled upon this morning. Hammer found me through the crowd. “Brendan we have a club vote now.”

  “Be right there, Prez.”

  —

  Hammer hit the gavel on the long wooden table with our club symbol—a sword driven through a skull—carved into it. Framed pictures of our fallen brethren including my older brother hung on the wall. The members quit chatting and faced towards their president.

  Hammer put his elbows on the table and folded his hands. “We have a few things to go over today, gentlemen. I'd like Rowan to take over now.”

  Rowan was a smart guy—went to college, started a few businesses, and became the logical choice for club treasurer. He wasn't the usual type that joined a MC but he fit in nicely.

  Rowan brought out some papers and put on a pair of round glasses. “I was going over the finances and I thought I'd give everyone an update on how we're doing. As usual, The Burger Joint is bringing in fifty-four percent of our income. Guns are thirty percent and drugs are only sixteen percent. I've talked to Hammer about this a few times and I think it's time to open up another burger restaurant.”

  “So you want to start a chain?” I asked him.

  Hammer butted in. “We put our blood, sweat and tears into this club. Lost a lot of men along the way. Drugs and guns are the riskiest ventures—too many ways the cops can take us down. We can't lose everything we built. It's time to focus on more legitimate sources of income. Bring this club into the future.”

  Jasper coughed into his hand. He was the oldest member and never wanted any responsibility. But we all looked at him for guidance. “Hammer is right. Look at our brothers.” Jasper pointed to the frames on the wall. “We can't lose anymore.”

  Everyone bowed their heads. I thought about my brother, AJ. His devil-may-care attitude. He taught me everything I knew. I wanted him back.

  Jasper continued, “This motorcycle club is changing and we need to accept it.”

  Hammer took up the gavel. “I propose we cut out drugs for now and keep the guns business. We can sell our contacts to our black brothers and focus more on the new restaurant. All in favor, raise your hand.”

  I knew the club needed to go legitimate at some point but I thought that was a long way from now. I didn't want to give up being an outlaw. I couldn't imagine myself working in a burger restaurant the rest of my life. But I had to focus on the survival of the MC.

  I raised my hand along with the others. It was unanimous.

  Hammer pounded the gavel to the table. “There's only one problem,” Hammer began, “we need to to break the news to the Los Diablos. The Blacks won't sell to the Mexicans; by doing this deal we are essentially cutting the Mexicans off from their number one supplier.”

  “And how do you suppose we get around this problem?” Maverick asked, rubbing his large stomach.

  “We need to set up a meet with the Los Diablos and explain to them why were doing it. If we find them another supplier, they won't be happy but maybe it will prevent a blowback.” Hammer looked around the room at all of us. “We need to work together on this.”

  “Miguel and I grew up together,” Jasper announced. “Let me talk to him. I can get him to see it our way.”

  Hammer nodded. “Zane, I need you to reach out to your contacts in Vegas. See if you can find a new supplier. Make sure they'll be willing to work with the Mexicans.”

  Zane looked up from cleaning his gun and nodded. Zane's tattoos covering every inch of his body, including his shaved head. He was always fiddling with his guns, never paying too much attention to what was going on around him.

  “This meeting of the Dark Steel MC is adjourned.” Hammer slammed the table one last time.

  Chapter Five

  Katherine

  The black coffee kept me warm as I pulled into the empty parking garage. It was five in the morning and the place was deserted. For most people this was an ungodly hour but this was the time I got the most work done. The sun was barely up and the noise of the city had not begun. It was serene and perfect.

  I parked in my usual spot and walked to the dark corner of the parking garage. I came to a long door that stated: Electrical Closet. Warning: High Voltage. I pulled out my key card th
at had my name engraved and slipped it into the subtle slot right below the door handle. A beep announced that it was okay for me to turn the handle.

  The room was pitch black until I flipped the switch. The lights flickered and buzzed, lighting the small space. Nobody was here yet. I was always the last to leave at night and the first to arrive in the morning. We used to have a whole floor in the office building above but the bosses cut the team by ninety percent and exiled what was left down here. I actually liked it more. Less people meant less annoyances.

  I sat down in a rigid chair and let the coffee heat my hands. I blew on it before taking another sip. I glanced up at the giant bulletin board that hung on the wall. The Dark Steel Motorcycle Club had eluded us for a long time. They were pretty smart criminals—covering their tracks and never making a mistake.

  The pictures of each member formed a sort of pyramid on the board. At the top was the leader, Hammer. Below him were his right-hand men, Maverick and Brendan. At the base of the pyramid were the rest of the members. These were the ones we focused on the most. The less important members were more likely to mess up or turn against the MC. We knew every detail of their lives: who they talked to, who they fucked, where they took their smoke breaks. Folders and folders of small details that were for the most part useless. I had spent years of my life on Dark Steel and I had nothing to show for it.

  The beep at the door signaled someone was coming in. I checked my watch that said: 5:30 A.M.

  “Good morning, Agent Malarkey,” I said, surprised that he showed up so early.

  Malarkey walked in carrying a tray of four Starbucks coffees. He had been with me since the beginning. He was older and more experienced but didn't have the ambition to rise the ranks. He didn't let office politics influence his decisions which made him the perfect partner.

  “Coffee, Agent Swift?” he asked.

  I raised my own. “Already beat you.”

  Malarkey sat down and sighed. He rubbed his eyes and scratched his head.

  “Rough night, Malarkey?”

  “I didn't get much sleep. I got some intel from my girl at the restaurant last night.”

  I quickly grabbed the file on our sources and began flipping through it. “Remind me who that is.”

  “Hailey Gutter. She works at The Burger Joint.”

  I turned to a photo of her arrest. Her face was contorted in disgust as she held the black sign with her serial number on it. Hailey looked like the usual scum that frequented The Burger Joint—bleached blonde hair and eyes caked in dark makeup.

  “I remember now. She's slept with a few of the members in the past. We turned her a year ago when her boyfriend was arrested.”

  Malarkey laughed. “Funny thing is, she broke up with her boyfriend soon after that.”

  “Yeah but she can't stop talking to us or we'll leak that she's one of our sources to the MC.”

  Malarkey blew on his hot coffee. “She doesn't know that we're bluffing. We would never put anyone in danger.”

  I skimmed through the rest of her file for anything interesting. “What did you find out from her last night.”

  “The MC has a meeting with the Los Diablos set for tomorrow afternoon.” Malarkey grinned.

  I leaned towards him, my eyes lighting up. “Do you know what about?”

  “The source says that there are rumors buzzing around that Dark Steel is getting out of drugs.”

  The synapses in my brain fired off, connecting all the dots. “They wouldn't give their supplier to the Mexicans so they must be telling them that the Blacks are getting it. Which means the Mexicans will be without drugs.”

  “Exactly,” Malarkey said, resting his hands behind his head.

  “They won't be happy to get that news.”

  Malarkey shook his head. “No, not at all.”

  I closed the file in front of me. “Okay I want us at the meeting. Get Agent Daniels to trail Los Diablos and you and I will follow Dark Steel. We'll need surveillance equipment and a couple cars. I want us armed and ready for action. This could get messy.”

  Malarkey smiled. He lived for this.

  And so did I.

  Chapter Six

  Shawn

  My head was in a daze. I couldn't believe that Brendan was taking me out to dinner tonight. My shift at The Ballroom would be over in an hour and Brendan was supposed to pick me up soon. I was so excited that I could barely keep myself from shaking.

  I danced on stage, gyrating, closing my eyes and focusing on the image of Brendan. His shirtless chest, strong arms, and open lips made me ooze inside. I wanted to kiss him so badly, to feel his mouth against mine. The crowd cheered at the sight of my oiled chest.

  I got down on my knees and thrust my hips right in front of a customer's face. I turned around and crawled towards another customer, giving them all the perfect view of my ass.

  The desire to touch myself was building. My face was flushed and my heart was racing. I continued dancing, picturing Brendan holding me tight and never letting me go. I snapped back to reality when the music stopped. The audience erupted with cheers and gave me a standing ovation. I didn't even know what I did up there. I was so distracted with the thought of Brendan.

  I went backstage to find Gunner getting ready to go on.

  “I just watched you, Shawn. What got into you on stage? I've never seen you like that before.”

  I blushed and hid my face. “I don't even know what I was doing.”

  “It looked like you were ready to come up there.” Gunner laughed.

  My face turned a deeper shade of red. “I think I almost did.”

  Gunner continued getting dressed in a waiter outfit. “Well give me whatever drug you're on because I want to feel that.”

  Should I tell him about Brendan? There was something about this guy but I barely knew him. “Good luck out there,” I told Gunner as he went out on stage.

  I sat down in my seat and realized that cock was still hard. I relaxed and closed my eyes. Brendan was so fucking hot. My body pulsed at just the thought of him.

  Joe marched in through the door and interrupted my fantasy. “I don't know what you did out there but it was fantastic, Shawn.”

  “Thanks, Joe. I guess I was just in the right mood.”

  “Well whatever it was, do it again. You have a gentleman out there requesting a lap dance.”

  Could it be Brendan? I checked the clock on the wall and it was almost ten. I smiled and got my game face on. I was going to give him the lap dance of lap dances.

  I strutted out into main room and over to the private booths. My heart skipped a beat right before I opened the velvet curtain. And everything fell apart when I saw it was a stranger and not Brendan.

  I put my smile back on. Got to focus on all those tips. “Hey sugar, you want a lap dance?”

  “Get that hot ass of yours over here.” The customer was large and reeked of alcohol. His eyes were cast in shadow and his grin scared me a little.

  “Buckle up then, this is going to be a wild ride,” I replied playfully.

  I faced away and planted my butt right on his crotch. He was already hard which wasn't surprising. Most of my customers were before I even started. I rubbed against him, listening to him moan and groan.

  He wrapped his hands around me and squeezed my arms I normally didn't care about men touching me or my ass but this felt different. It felt wrong. The man leaned forward and whispered in my ear, “You were so hot on stage. I couldn't stop thinking about that fine ass. I bet your cock is so hard right now.” His hand trailed down my stomach and I swatted him away.

  I shook my finger at him. “No no, you're being a bad boy.”

  The customer leaned back and smiled. He was really enjoying this. I spun around and straddled him. I buried his face in my abs, rubbing the oil all over his face. Suddenly, he flung me off him and stood up.

  His smile turned devious as he looked down at me. “I bet you can't wait to feel my big cock inside you.” He began to unbuckle his
belt.

  I was calm and collected. I'd been in this situation many times before. Jerome, the bouncer, was only feet away—plus I could mess this guy up. The customer was drunk and there was no need to cause a scene. I tried reason with him. “Sir, you're drunk and you can't do this.”

  The man kept grinning as he pulled down his pants. His prick was small and hard. Not enough meat for any man. I giggled a little and called out for Jerome.

  The velvet curtain opened and it wasn't Jerome. It was Brendan. His eyes glanced from the customer's crotch to me sitting helpless in the booth. His eyes filled with fury and his fists clenched into wrecking balls.

 

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