by Hazel Parker
Hearts
Savage Saints MC
~
Hazel Parker
Hearts Savage Saints MC Series © 2019 Hazel Parker
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This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1: Pork
Chapter 2: Mama
Chapter 3: Pork
Chapter 4: Mama
Chapter 5: Pork
Chapter 6: Mama
Chapter 7: Pork
Chapter 8: Mama
Chapter 9: Pork
Chapter 10: Mama
Chapter 11: Pork
Chapter 12: Mama
Chapter 13: Pork
Chapter 14: Mama
Chapter 15: Pork
Chapter 16: Mama
Chapter 17: Pork
Chapter 18: Mama
Chapter 19: Pork
Chapter 20: Mama
Epilogue
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Author Bio
Prologue
Joseph “Pork” Young
“I’m ready to see these fucking assholes destroyed.”
I couldn’t have agreed more with the assessment that our sergeant-at-arms, Barber, laid out. I was ready to use all of my Navy SEAL training to eliminate the Degenerate Sinners.
And I couldn’t have been paying less attention to the discussion at hand. That was because of the woman to my left, the one that I’d had eyes for since I joined the club, but one that I’d only recently begun getting the courage to try to approach with a little more zest and pizazz.
Tanya “Mama” Reed, officially the club treasurer, but in reality, its everything. Its spirit, its soul, its leader… Richard officially ran the club as president, but even he deferred to Mama on the side. Whatever Mama said, went. Someone fighting Mama was someone bound to not last much longer at The Red Door or in the Savage Saints.
And I couldn’t get enough of her.
Unfortunately, with my awkward attempts at humor—as much an attempt to fit in as a way of masking things that were not funny at all—I was pretty sure that she and the rest of the club got more than enough of me.
“Tired of the fucking Sinners causing trouble,” Barber said. “The security measures we’ve put in place have gone a long way, but it’s not going to be enough. To truly kill them, I think we need to get all the help we can.”
“About damn time Barber spoke with some sense,” Mama said.
God, I loved how she spoke with absolutely no shame. With Mama, there was little doubting that you were going to get the truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God. If you fucked up, Mama would speak like a Brooklyn mobster in your face. But, on the flip side, if you did something well, there was no one quicker to come to your side and shower you with affection and praising words.
Fear and love were the two most common words to describe how someone felt about Mama. For me, it was mostly a fear that I could not fully love her.
And, well, a fear that whenever I spoke, she would find me stupid. I had a tendency to follow her words with my own, as if reaching out to her. And usually, my words were a lot dumber and a lot less sensible.
“It’s like someone had to shave his head off to get through his thick skull!” I said with a laugh.
What the fuck does that even mean? You try to be funny when we’re discussing how to get rid of the Sinners once and for all? Are you ever serious?
“It’s going to be a lot more like Vietnam and a lot less like World War II,” Richard warned. “We haven’t been able to consistently pin them to a location, even with our escalated defenses. I say this because we need to know that it’s probably going to get worse before it gets better. But if we’re all on the same page, I think we can eradicate this threat, and we can all live happily ever after.”
“Except Dom, who’s going to drown in stripper pussy,” Mama cracked.
I laughed at that. I loved when Mama gave shit to the other club members. It meant I wasn’t in trouble and let me tell you: I got in a lot of trouble with this club. It was like I had a gift for it or something like that.
“Hey, watch it; you never know,” Dom said. “Between Richard and Barber, the love bug might be settling into the club, and if that happens, watch out! Hell, even Pork might find love.”
What? How does he…
“The fuck does that mean?” I said, but everyone was laughing too much at that for them to notice.
Even Mama was laughing, which, thank God. If she saw how flustered I got, she’d know the truth. Of course, she probably already knew the truth; women always did. I just wanted to pretend for a little longer that Mama and I were nothing more than professionals working together with a mutual desire to find common ground.
“In any case,” Richard said. “Let’s get ready. This shit with the Sinners is going to get ugly, but I’m ready to get ugly. Officially all in for calling all of the Savage Saints in?”
I focused. The meeting was coming to an end. Mama’s flirtations could wait.
“Let’s do it.”
“Hell yeah.”
“I’m in.”
“Fuck yes,” Mama said to close it out.
She always gets the last word. Always.
“Then it has been decided,” Richard said. “We’re going to make this shit happen. In the meantime, let’s go let the rest of the club know what was going on.”
And so we did. The five of us stood before the other members, giving them the rundown of what we had decided. It wasn’t a large group by any stretch—just nine others, though we had a spot to fill—but it was an indication of what was going on outside The Red Door’s walls that we now felt the need to be more open about what was going on.
In any case, it wasn’t a long meeting. There were no debates. Just announcements. And so it was that we all headed back into the room, wondering if there was an actual need to do that. Richard, as if to get us back onto track, cleared his throat and asked the question that would have normally ended the last meeting.
“Dom, would you please call in our guest for the evening?”
“With the utmost pleasure,” Dom said.
I barely paid any attention as Igor, the father of Richard’s girlfriend, walked in, chattering with Richard about some party he intended to throw as an invite-only event, the better to avoid the attention to the Sinners. I couldn’t help but notice that Mama looked more stressed than usual.
Undoubtedly, this was the most intense stress the club had faced since I had joined about six years ago. Not only were the Degenerate Sinners now a threat, but we also had to call in help from the Cali Savage Saints for help. There had been a whole mess where Barber had taken umbrage at their presence, but thankfully, with his words today, the worries over that lasting had faded.
But that didn’t mean the str
ess of the Sinners becoming that much stronger wasn’t a problem. That didn’t mean that Mama and Richard weren’t losing sleep at night. That didn’t mean that we all wouldn’t face some serious hardships along the way.
About two hours into our game, Mama stood up, hands on her temples.
“Boys, I need a break,” she said. “Keep playing your card game. Mama needs a smoke.”
“That’s one way to blow off steam!” I chimed in, trying to make a joke out of it.
Richard rolled his eyes. Dom actually laughed, which I wasn’t sure was a good thing. Mama just smiled at me, keeping her hands away from my cheeks with our guest nearby. Or, maybe, she just recognizes I was trying to be nicer to her.
“Actually, I would appreciate a break,” Igor said. “It seems to me that the cards at this table run unusually hot in favor of Richard Peters right now.”
“Hey, I’m just here to win money.”
“And my approval for you to date my daughter?”
The two yakked it up as Richard called a break, and everyone headed off. Mama had gone out the side exit to the back of the building. Barber headed into the club, although I think that was more force of habit—now that Cassie’s belly protruded too far for her to dance, Mama had put her on leave. But Mama treated her girls well. She’d be back.
Richard and Igor also went out to the club. Dom looked at me for a second, arched an eyebrow, and then went into the club without a word. I didn’t know if that was good timing or if Dom knew, but Dom was perhaps my closest friend. He was the only other one who used humor and cheer to deflect from a dark underbelly.
I didn’t waste the opportunity to head outside, catching Mama puffing on her cigarette.
“Fucking shit,” she muttered.
“I can go back inside,” I said, concerned.
But she looked up at me, smiled, and motioned for me to come over.
“Hun, you aren’t fucking shit, you’re funny shit,” she said as she gave me a kiss on the cheek. “Sometimes, shit can stink, but you’re still funny.”
“I try,” I said as I let Mama light up my cigarette. “And you know I’m always happy to help.”
“If you would ever stop yapping like a middle schooler reciting lines from his favorite TV shows.”
“What?” I said as I puffed out a cigarette. “At least people get my references. They wouldn’t want to know what the reality is.”
No one would. I don’t even want to know my reality.
“I think you underestimate people’s compassion for weakness, Pork,” Mama said.
“Are you kidding me?” I said with a laugh. “I’ve seen you cuss out bad performing dancers. I’ve seen you yell at me. I’m pretty sure I can still feel your hand on my cheek!”
“Don’t mistake coaching for coldness,” Mama said with a puff. “I’m honest because I love you. If I didn’t love you, I wouldn’t have you around.”
It was not always pleasant knowing that Mama would say “I love you” a lot without meaning it. Obviously, I didn’t take it as anything more than it was, nor did I think that Mama would magically mean it someday. It just would’ve been nice not to hear those words and have to remind myself all the time it didn’t mean what it might have.
“In any case, you good?” I asked when I failed to come up with a pun off of what she had just said.
“Always, hun,” she said. “Go grab yourself a drink and let’s help Natasha’s daddy feel good about himself, shall we?”
* * *
Tanya “Mamma” Reid
The rest of the poker game went off without a hitch.
Which, to me, was a sign that things weren’t going quite as they should have. Someone wasn’t saying something. And I had a feeling I knew who it was.
I always knew who it was. Call it a mother’s instinct—a sadly ironic title—or call it just being in the club for a while. I knew everyone here better than they even realized. I think even Richard didn’t realize how much I knew about him.
How?
Simple. When you’re the only woman at the club that’s not a dancer, everyone talks to you as if you’re their therapist. You get secrets and gossip you couldn’t even imagine having in any other position. You hear stories of guys hating other guys, girls wanting to sleep with other guys, office drama… shit, I swore Richard should have just made me counselor, not treasurer.
Right now, though, Pork wasn’t saying something. God knew whatever the fuck it was, though I just said that because I didn’t want to think about what it was.
Pork liked me.
And that fucking sucked.
Pork was a sweet kid. Handsome fella, underestimated how good he looked at his size. He wasn’t a fat kid by any means, but he didn’t have the nickname Pork for nothing. But that just made him cuter, easier to slap around—literally.
But goddamnit, I did not fall in love. I did not cross paths with coworkers. I did not… I did not.
I didn’t want to think about it.
Only Richard and, very, very recently, Barber knew why.
But Barber only knew half the story. He didn’t know everything.
And Richard only knew about three-quarters of the story. Some things were destined to go to the grave. Even if I fell in love again, I would fight to make sure it was not with Pork or any other club member.
I was perfectly happy right now with my toys. Men couldn’t cut it.
Igor stood from his seat, shaking all of our hands, kissing mine.
“Mama, you are a blessing to this game,” he said. “I appreciate a lady who is unafraid to speak her mind and is willing to say how she feels.”
“Dear, that’s because you ain’t spent enough time around girls like me,” I said with a laugh. “I’m sure you’re happily married, but in America, if you ever get back onto the playing field, find yourself a tough chick. You’ll have the time of your life.”
Igor let out a laugh. I was silently happy that, for once, a man had not heard that and thought that I was flirting with them.
I turned to the rest of the club officers and gave them all a hug. I made sure that my hug to Pork didn’t last any longer than it would have for anyone else. There would probably come a time when I’d need to put my foot down a little harder, but for now, I could still hope that he’d wise up and stop thinking that we were ever going to be a thing.
Problem was, there were many reasons why that might not have been accurate. And not all of them had to do with Pork’s persistence.
“Mama,” Richard said just as I got to him. “Stay behind, would ya?”
I nodded, moving on to Dom to close out the evening. I briefly made a stop in the dressing room to congratulate the girls on a show well done—I hadn’t had the time to actually see it live, but they didn’t need to fucking know that—before I went back into the meeting room for the Saints. Not surprisingly, only Richard remained in his seat.
“How goes it, handsome?” I said, rustling his hair as I sat by his side.
No one was a brother quite like Richard was. Richard was the family I didn’t have. Richard might have legitimately been the only man I’d ever come across that had never tried to flirt with me, and for that, I loved him.
“I think I should be asking you that question,” he said with a chuckle. “Seeing as how you’ve got some pork on you.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, don’t you turn into him,” I said with a groan. “It’s bad enough we have one bad joke teller in the group.”
“It is, but we seem to be awfully good about going beyond ‘bad enough’ these days.”
Too true. Too goddamn true.
“But allow me actually to ask it. How goes it, beautiful?”
I snorted.
“You’re not wrong, at least not as much as I want you to be,” I said. “Pork is getting a little too into me right now.”
“And how do you feel about that?”
I took a page from Pork’s playbook—actually, it was a playbook of everyone in the club.
&
nbsp; I deflected the question.
That was the curse of me being me. I didn’t have anyone to turn to for quiet conversation. And I sure as hell didn’t want to turn to myself—that was some really painful conversation.
“I’m not gonna be anyone’s sugar tit,” I said with a cackle. “Most especially someone like Pork.”
Except for the fact that you actually do want to get married. You do want to have kids, especially after the last one.
You know your pool is shrinking. You know your age is only getting up there. You know your job in this club intimidates the hell out of most men.
So if it’s not Pork, who? Dom? Don’t fucking laugh out loud and look ridiculous.
Richard had a beer in his hand, which he slowly rotated, the equivalent of him of flicking a cigarette in his fingers. He sighed, stared up at me, bit his lip, and then shook his head.
“Mama, you mean more to me than anyone in this club,” he said. “You’ve been with me since the beginning. You got this club to where it is. You are my sister. I love you to death. I also love Pork. But this is what I know.”
It’s what I know, too. I already know what you’re going to say, Richard.
“If it comes down to you and him, he’ll be gone faster than a Degenerate Sinner who walks in here,” he said. “If he causes you any trouble, harasses you in any way, or gives you shit, you let me know. OK?”
I leaned forward, put my elbows on my knees and my chin on my hands. My cleavage was showing, but with Richard, this was less a sexual move and more just my way of expressing confidence by getting so up close to him.
“I’ll keep him in line,” I said. “You know me. Boys will fight boys, but you put a woman in front of them, and they’ll shape up fucking fast.”
There was just one question that I couldn’t answer, though.
Could I keep myself in line?
It had nothing to do with Pork. Yes, he was hot. Yes, he was funny. But I’d resisted men like him for the last twenty years.
It had more to do with the fact that I understood biology and my needs and how they failed to align very well right now.
“Here’s to hoping so,” Richard said. “Don’t let this split the club apart.”