A Very MC Picnic_Sam Crescent MC Special

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A Very MC Picnic_Sam Crescent MC Special Page 9

by Sam Crescent


  “Why don’t you tell us what you want and cut the crap?” Devil said.

  “We want help locating these men, the places they take and hold the women, extracting, and helping them.”

  Lash burst out laughing. “You pretty much want us to do the entire thing for you. What do you do? Sit at your office all day, twiddling your thumbs, wondering what could have been in the good old days?”

  “We’re going to be right there beside you. We’ve got the best that money can buy, but we’re not stupid. Whizz is the best man for the job. He can find and locate anything that you need him to. We’ve seen the way you’ve both been. The Skulls and Chaos Bleeds are fearless, and we want that on our side.”

  “Do you have a file and idea of how you want this to work?” Devil asked.

  “There’s no reason to put a label on it. We want your help in helping these women.”

  “These are dangerous situations,” Lash said. “It’s not going to be that simple.”

  “I’ll email Whizz tonight everything you need to know,” Lewis said, speaking up. “None of us want this to be a problem. We only want to help.”

  Shaking his hands with all the men, Lash, Devil, and their men made their way outside to where their families were waiting.

  “What do you think?” Lash asked.

  “I don’t know. I’m interested in knowing everything, not this vague kind of shit. We’ll head to Fort Wills, and then we’ll make our decision.”

  Lash made his way toward his car. Anthony and Chloe were already strapped in.

  “I’m sorry I failed, Dad,” Anthony said.

  “You didn’t fail me, son. If you could have found me something, I knew you would have, but it also kept you entertained so you didn’t do anything fucking stupid.”

  Angel didn’t protest, but he felt her glare as she looked toward him. Their son wasn’t the innocent he claimed to be, not by a long shot, and he refused to treat Anthony as if he was. That wasn’t his son.

  Anthony didn’t think he knew about the fighting, the anger, the rage. Lash himself had dealt with it growing up, only he had a brother, a reason, and an excuse. Anthony didn’t have any of that, but he still understood it and because of that, he offered him some slack.

  His son needed to be kept busy, and it was the only thing Lash knew how to help. Tiny had kept him busy, constantly giving him jobs, missions, a challenge.

  Using his own experience, he was doing the same for his son.

  Anthony needed it, even if he did like to fight it.

  At least he never talked down to his mother. That was something Lash wouldn’t handle. He’d told Anthony many times, “Treat your mother right, and we won’t have a problem.”

  “What happened?” Angel asked. “We watched the other clubs leave.”

  “Yeah, they were not interested in hearing any more to be honest. Can’t say that I don’t blame them for it either. It wasn’t the easiest day.”

  “What happens now?”

  “Get home, do church, talk about what they want, make a decision, move on.” He smiled over at his wife. “Don’t worry about it. No impending war is going to break out.”

  The drive back home was long, and he just wanted to climb into bed with his woman, but that didn’t happen. Once the club women were gone, they traveled toward the large warehouse where they once used as a safehouse but were now turning into properties. They were going to extend it, but so far it had only been used as storage. Lash didn’t know what would come of it in the end. Storage, houses, warehouse, whatever.

  Whizz was looking through the documents on his fancy-pants smart phone. Lash wasn’t too interested in modern devices. He had his cell phone, which took pictures, texted, and made calls. That was all he needed as far as he was concerned.

  “I’m going to let Whizz explain everything to you all,” Lash said. “We need to make a decision and fast. But, I don’t want you to decide based on what you think I want to hear. This is a club decision, our clubs’ decision.” He pointed at Devil. “This is something I think we should make as a team. A united front.”

  “I agree with Lash. We’re still our own separate clubs, so don’t start being a bunch of girls on me thinking we’re going to play with each others’ hair and stuff. No, this shit is real. Normally I’d tell you all that the Billionaire Bikers are frauds, and I do think that. They’re not a real club in my eyes, but their cause is real. We were there, boys. We saw those girls, we’ve helped them. I don’t think I can turn my back on this. I’m not going to agree to jump as soon as those fuckers click their fingers, but I’ll be there to help. I want to help those girls, the women, the kids, even the boys and men. We can do that. It’s the least we can do.”

  Lash completely agreed with Devil on all fronts.

  Whizz hooked his phone up to a projector and began to explain the Billionaires’ plan, what they hoped to achieve. For over an hour, Lash sat back and listened to every single word, feeling the rage that he knew he kept bottled up.

  No one deserved the kind of life he was seeing here. The photographs that the Billionaires had included. The damage to Anna before she married Russ. The personal accounts. All of it sickened him.

  To Lash, any man that tried that shit wasn’t a man at all.

  At the end of it, silence hung over the warehouse.

  Whizz shook his head. “I’m in. Even if the club votes out and you don’t want any part in this, I will help them find the bastards that do this. I’ve got a wife and girls to protect. I’m not letting them get away with shit like this.”

  “I’m in,” Nash said.

  “Me too,” Killer said.

  Over and over his men called out, as did Devil’s.

  “I’m all about the pussy even if it’s just my wife’s, so I will do anything to protect it,” Pussy said.

  “I’ll do anything to help,” Ripper said. “You know that.” His wife, Judi, was Devil’s adopted daughter, and Lash knew she’d been pimped out at a young age.

  “We’re in,” Tiny said. “We’ll help, but you make sure they know we don’t take orders from them.”

  Around the room, everyone agreed. Looking to Devil, he saw the man at his side wore a big grin.

  “That settles it,” Whizz said. “We know what we’re doing with this place.”

  “What’s that?” Lash asked.

  “An apartment complex for the women we help, and as we do it, we provide them safety, a place to stay, and a way to rebuild their lives.”

  Devil chuckled. “You know, we just got one settled in Piston County.”

  Holding out his hand, Lash smiled. “What do you say, old man? You want to do a deal with The Skulls?”

  “Nah, that’s not the way it’s said, kid. Do you want to do a deal with the Devil?”

  Lash chuckled as did Devil. The start of a new beginning was upon them.

  He felt positive about what was about to happen.

  The Billionaire Bikers wouldn’t overtake them, but they would work to help the women. This wasn’t about the clubs or anything else.

  This was about the women, and helping them took precedence over all of them.

  They were all laughing and cheering when Blaine’s panicked voice suddenly seemed louder than anyone else.

  “What the fuck do you mean?” Blaine asked. “No. No. I’ll meet you at the hospital.”

  “What’s going on?” Lash asked, looking at the brother who had his fair share of ups and downs during his time in The Skulls.

  “I’ve got to get to the hospital.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, erm, Darcy, she’s passed out. No one can wake her up.”

  Lash was already moving. One of their own was down, then the club was going to be there to support her.

  Whatever happened, The Skulls was there as were Chaos Bleeds. Two clubs they may be, but the truth was, they were one family.

  The End

  www.samcrescent.com

  Other Books by Sam Crescent:

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  BONUS SAMPLE CHAPTER

  THE BIKER’S BABY

  Sam Crescent

  Copyright © 2018

  Chapter One

  Gunner stared down at the slut that was licking his dick. She was just a regular club whore who thought she could bag herself an old man or at least a club patch. A lot of his men liked her, but he was finding her a little too bland for his taste. She was twentysomething and had a mouth like a fucking suction cup. Her mouth bored the shit out of him, and he was losing his erection fast. Her blonde hair was dyed, and the feel of it in his hand was greasy as fuck.

  He usually liked to use the club whores. They distracted him from some of the tough decisions he had to make or when he just wanted a few moments of peace. Right now, that wasn’t the case.

  “Get the fuck off,” he said, pushing her away and tucking his dick back into his pants. Running a hand down his face, he tried to clear the anger from his mind, but that didn’t help.

  “I can do better. Please, Prez, I want to please you.” She ran her hands up and down his thighs. Since he was the Prez of the Satan’s Demons MC, they all wanted to please him.

  “If you don’t get the fuck out of my office in the next ten seconds, I’ll make sure that you don’t touch another club dick.”

  She was already scurrying away. Leaning back in his chair, he released a breath. He didn’t know what it was. The young women used to do something for him. He liked their need to please, to make their place known. The men were all over them, including the married men.

  If his men wanted to break their marriage vows, that was on them. When he had been married, he wasn’t a saint. He wouldn’t judge any man on how he lived his life. He had two teenage boys himself, and both of them were fucking nightmares. Even now, in high school, they were constantly after pussy like two horny teenagers usually were. It did fill him with a little pride knowing his boys liked to fuck and were not into hearts and flowers. At least they knew to bag their shit up because he wouldn’t stand for anything less, not in his house. He wasn’t going to have any unplanned brats around his place.

  “You want to tell me why you sent that piece of ass away?” Kent asked.

  He looked up at his VP, who was leaning against the door. “Wasn’t interested.” When it came to Kent, he didn’t trust the man as far as he could throw him, which was one of the reasons he’d made him VP. Keeping his enemy close.

  Kent had wanted to take the Prez’s patch, but when Gunner himself got the patch, Kent seemed to step down. There were times he saw something in Kent’s eyes, and that feeling in his gut never went away, not when it came to this man.

  The MC were strong together, but that didn’t mean there weren’t men who wanted to take his place.

  “I get it. She probably tasted of another man’s cum. From what the guys tell me she does nothing but talk, which is why they’re always putting her mouth to good use.”

  Gunner wrinkled his nose. “I do not need to hear that.”

  “Maybe you’re getting old.”

  “I can fucking take you, so don’t start that shit.”

  Kent burst out laughing, but there was a bitter edge to it. “That’s never in question.”

  “Isn’t it?” He stared at Kent long enough to watch the other man withdraw. So far Kent didn’t have the balls to take him on. “You think I’m ready to settle down.”

  “Or maybe you’ve had your eyes on a certain brunette that comes around sometimes.”

  Gunner stared at the man across from him and didn’t say a word. He knew instantly who he was talking about. Scarlett Williams wasn’t a club whore, nor did she have anything to do with the club. She was a thirty-year-old, sweet as they come, curvy woman who was also the wife of one of the club’s close friends, John.

  Gunner and John had served in the military together. Rather than join the club, John continued his college education and was now an accountant with his own firm in town. He’d once had big plans of city life. That had all ceased when he caught sight of Scarlett. Gunner couldn’t blame him.

  Scarlett was a mystery to him.

  She was all fire and sweetness mixed into one. The men adored her, though of course many believed she was way too sweet for the club life. Not only that, she did have a husband.

  He didn’t like to think of Scarlett in his bed, not when he cared about John. His friend always had his back, and there was no way in hell that he’d ever hurt his best friend.

  John would have been one of the best club members. He was loyal and fierce as fuck.

  “What do you want, Kent?”

  “Was wondering if you got word from John. He called an hour ago. Wants to talk to you.”

  Gunner sat up. He had John going through the books of all the club businesses, legal and not. The not-legal shit John was keeping to himself.

  “Why didn’t I get notified ASAP?” He stood up, grabbing his jacket.

  For most of the day he’d been out on the road, going over his businesses, and he’d not even taken a shower.

  It was late, which meant he’d have to go to John’s home. Just thinking about it sent a shock of excitement through him.

  “You were kind of busy, Prez. We all know that Elle wanted to give it to you.” Kent gave him a wink.

  This was just another reason that he didn’t trust Kent. There were times when he was dealing business within the club that fine little details would slip Kent’s mind. In fact, on some occasions when he’d been interrogating, Kent would shoot the bastards dead before they could breathe a word. Gunner had his doubts about Kent’s loyalty, but he couldn’t make a case to the club when he didn’t have any solid proof to back up his … hunches.

  “I don’t want her anywhere near me.” She was nothing more than a cum bucket, and some chicks got off on being that, but not him. He didn’t want to deal with a hospital trip.

  A few years ago, most of the club ended up with the fucking clap. He’d been royally pissed. He always bagged his shit up, apart from when he’d been with his wife, who was now his ex, and even then, he’d rarely dipped his dick in bare.

  “She’s quick and easy,” Kent said. “Thought you’d like the release? Something to help take your mind off shit.”

  He stepped up to Kent, getting in the man’s space. He had a good foot on Kent, and even though he was older, he had a lot more muscle and knew how to use it. “What you doing that needs my mind taking off shit?”

  “Just being a good guy here, boss. You got a screw loose or something to think there’s anything wrong.”

  “Fuck off, Kent.” He moved the man out of his office and locked the door. Until he got to the bottom of the stealing from his stash, no one was allowed in his office. “Call me if you need me.” There wouldn’t be any calls. There rarely were.

  He nodded at Kent and several of his men as he passed. Most of them had their dicks in women that were not their wives. They saluted him with a beer, and he nodded at them.

  For the most part, this club was his life. He had his two boys, the businesses, and the club, but that was it. When he’d taken over, the club had been complete and utter shit. Drugs, booze, skanks, and Feds breathing down their neck about their personal business and their involvement with the guns and drugs. If it hadn’t been for him there wouldn’t be a club.

  For over ten years he’d done the wife thing as well, but that hadn’t stuck. Cherry had been an awful wife. She’d slept with more men than he’d even looked at women. It was pathetic, really.

  They’d been the worst ten years of his fucking life, and he had no wish to repeat them, not ever.

  Leaving the clubhouse, he headed straight to his bike, straddling the little beauty before gunning out of the parking lot. No one asked him any questions.


  He was the Prez, and he did what he wanted to.

  He’d earned his patch more than twenty years ago, taking the club from a two-bit drug dealer and child molester. Since he’d taken charge, the club had gone from strength to strength. The Feds couldn’t pin anything on them. He kept their business locked up tight.

  There had been challenges along the way. Big ones. He’d taken every single one of them. The men who’d accepted he’d won had kept their lives and moved on while still being within the club. Those that didn’t accept it were buried six feet under in the clubhouse yard. In his world the only way to survive was to take out the enemy, and he’d done that. Piece by piece, the club now belonged to him.

  Satan’s Demons MC was his baby.

  He’d brought it back from total destruction.

  But now someone was stealing from him, and that shit didn’t set well with him at all.

  Whoever it was, he was going to make sure that they paid, and that the entire club knew of the shit that was happening.

  Twenty minutes later, he found the modest house that his friend lived in. He knew John had wanted something bigger, but Scarlett didn’t like for him to think she was after his money. She was happy with their home, and that was what she’d made even though John could afford bigger.

  Parking his bike next to John’s top range car, he made his way to the door.

  Knocking hard, he waited.

  And there she stood with one of the prettiest smiles on her face.

  “Gunner,” she said. “It’s good to see you.”

  She stepped back, giving him room to enter. The moment he did the scent of cinnamon cookies filled his senses. “You’ve been baking?”

 

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