Why would I trade that in to be the guy in charge?
Despite what Wolverine had said, there was no way those guys would ever respect me. Most of them had served in Vietnam with Wolverine. They’d be looking for a place to stick a knife the minute I took over. They might’ve feared me, but they sure as fuck didn’t want me running things.
And that was going to make things very complicated.
“You look like you could use some company.”
I turned toward the voice and blinked until the woman shifted into focus. I came to this bar to get away, but with the low-cut peasant blouse and the absence of a bra, I was open to making an exception for her.
I downed the shot and looked her up and down again, my gaze lingering on tits that were just begging to be in my mouth. “You’re looking for trouble, am I right?”
She ignored my stare and climbed up onto the barstool next to mine. “Maybe.” She plucked a maraschino cherry from a nearby caddy and slowly sucked it into her mouth. “Maybe not.”
She pulled the stem and the red fruit reappeared with a pop. Knowing she had my full attention now; she swirled her tongue around it before sucking it back between her lips.
I growled and poured another shot, clenching my hand into a fist. I was rock hard, and the bitch was toying with me. “You know what, sweetheart? Maybe fuck off.”
Her eyes widened, and I waited for the waterworks and hasty exit. Instead, her hand dropped from the bar onto my lap. She let her fingers brush across my dick, and I gripped her wrist tightly in my fist. “You got a death wish?”
She pushed her lips into a pout. “Maybe I just came here to get fucked by a real man.”
That I didn’t expect.
I exhaled roughly and glanced around the bar. “Well, it ain’t happening here.” Her face fell before I added, “Motel, two blocks down.”
After throwing cash down on the bar, I let her lead me out to the parking lot, trying to determine how many of her there actually were. I wisely chose to leave my bike out front and let her drive.
By the time we made it into the crappy motel room, I’d shredded the buttons on her blouse with my teeth while she moaned and ground up against me.
When she leaned in for a kiss, I pushed her head down until it was level with my belt buckle. I’d tried kissing Ginger in the shower the night I became a killer. She’d pushed off and claimed that shit was reserved for old married couples and not two people having a good time.
I’d never made the mistake again.
Luckily, this chick caught on quickly and began unbuckling my belt, working my jeans down over my hips. “What’s your name?” I asked as she took me in her mouth.
She backed off and panted, “Betsy. Yours?”
“Grey.” It felt good to say it. Like I’d been meant to own that name. I gripped the back of her head and forced her to take all of me down her throat like a good girl.
She wanted a real man, she was gonna get one. I felt her throat convulse around me as she gagged and pushed against my thighs, but it only made me harder. I pulled back enough for her to suck in a breath before bringing her right back down. Tears and mascara ran from the corners of her eyes, but she didn’t fight me again.
Wolverine had taught me that a woman could take anything; she just needed to be trained. I might not have been a gentleman, but I never raised a hand or inflicted pain… unless they asked for it. And there were plenty of club whores who liked being hurt almost as much as I did.
When I thought my balls would burst, I pulled out and began tearing at her clothes. “Mattress. On your back.”
Betsy did as I asked and as she lay spread out before me, I paused to fully appreciate her perfect tits and slim body. That was when I noticed the spectrum of bruising on her torso and thighs.
Images forced their way into my head, and it didn’t matter that this girl was a brunette, I saw my mother, broken and bloody, laying on the mattress in front of me.
My old man had been even more of a coward than I thought possible. From what the guys could gather, he’d stabbed her in the back at the front door. When she didn’t die immediately like he’d hoped, he’d grabbed hold of her scarf and bashed her head into the wooden frame until she stopped fighting.
It further confirmed that the death I’d given him was too good.
I could stand a lot of shit and in the two years I’d been riding with the club, I’d seen just about everything. Women’s bodies being used as punching bags never failed to set me off though.
“Who the fuck did this?”
She jolted up at the tone in my voice and covered her body with her hands. “No one. It’s nothing.”
I pressed my hand against her ribs, and she winced. “Nothing? You’ve got broken bones.”
“Fine. It’s my man, okay? He keeps me in line when I forget my place.” She said all of it as if it was perfectly normal and I realized that she was worse off than Ma had been.
“You say the word and I can make your man disappear permanently.” I didn’t say it because I wanted to make her mine. Betsy had proven that she could be taught, which meant she’d fit in nicely at the club.
She grabbed my hand and brought it down to cup her pussy. “I just want you to make me forget his name.”
Chapter Five
Grey: 1982
It took six months to organize the all-chapter biker gathering. We would’ve gotten it done sooner, but shit had hit the fan in a big way.
Wolverine, along with five other brothers, were indicted on counts of possessing firearms and dynamite and it looked as though his source was right; the feds were going to try to tack on conspiracy to commit as well.
Because Wolverine had been unable to leave well enough alone, I was given more responsibility within the club and promoted to SGT at Arms before they hauled him in.
Dragon took over as acting Pres and rival clubs took it as an invitation to step on our toes.
The Bandits invited members of our Colorado chapter to party at their clubhouse. The guys went, seeing it as an olive branch after decades of fighting. The assholes tried to disarm them at the door and our brothers rightfully refused, seeing it as an insult and a trap.
It pushed back our all-chapter gathering, but we rode up to handle it. We knew that if we didn’t send a strong message early on, then what the Bandits had done would just be the beginning. So, we air-conditioned their clubhouse and took out their president.
It was enough for the rest of their club to back down.
The ATF investigated, but never formally charged. The way I saw it, we took out the trash for them.
To make matters more complicated, a few of the older bikers within our own club had trouble with my recent promotion. It took spilling blood in the clubhouse to remind them of why Wolverine had moved me up.
I made the hard decisions and put myself on the front line when needed. Initially, I did it, thinking that Wolverine would be released, and I could go back to being an enforcer. Now? I found I liked the power.
And it was a good thing too. It appeared as if the feds were going to drag out his trial as long as possible. They’d been busy scrounging up people to testify against the club; wanting to ensure that when the trial date finally rolled around, they had enough to lock my brothers up for life.
As soon as I found out who their key witness was, we’d be shutting that shit down too. Nobody rolled over on Silent Phoenix and lived to tell about it.
Tonight wasn’t about that though. Tonight was about welcoming brothers from all over the country and partying before we rode into town tomorrow to send a message. The police chief would do well to remember that Silent Phoenix had the numbers to take over the entire region.
Slim walked up with a grin. “Beer?”
I took one from him and we clinked the bottles together. “I saw your old man earlier, but I haven’t seen your wife and kid, Slim. You run off and leave them at home tonight?”
“Like I could talk Lou out of coming to a gathering.
She’s been itching for one for a while now, I think being cooped up at home with a toddler is getting to her,” he said with an easy laugh.
Their son, David, had just turned two and was hell on wheels. At the last gathering, I’d watched him hold his breath until he passed out when Lou refused to give him sweets.
“He’s strong-willed, just like another asshole I know.”
“Is that so? I didn’t realize he took after his Uncle Grey.”
That earned him a soft blow to the arm. We stood, shoulder to shoulder, while the rock music we grew up with blasted through the large speakers and bikers from every one of our chapters united for one purpose.
“This is good, Grey. My old man said Wolverine himself couldn’t have predicted a gathering of this size. They’ll be shittin’ their pants when we roll in.”
I nodded. It was a start.
Wolverine had kept his club running on the fringes of society, but I had plans to change that as soon as he was back. We made more than enough in running guns and drugs to start putting down roots within the city. That wasn’t even getting into what we made from the strip club and massage parlor.
He’d had the foresight to put in a topless bar next to the military base. It hadn’t made sense to me until I saw the weapons the girls were smuggling back into the clubhouse—hand grenades, .45 caliber pistols; one club whore even managed to snag a semi-automatic STEN gun.
I put my special touch on that one; modifying it into a full-auto machine gun that I proudly referred to as a ‘Grey Special.’ Those soldiers were so eager to get their dicks wet that they never realized the number of weapons that walked off the base afterward.
What we couldn’t steal, we bought and modified before finding a buyer. And we never had to look very far.
A bike roared in, kicking up a cloud of dirt, and I recognized the blank kutte of our latest prospect, Sullivan. After selling scrap to Chop late last year, he’d started hanging around the club more, looking to score. Chop had seen something in him though and decided to step up as his sponsor.
It seemed the only thing he liked more than speed and stolen auto parts was fighting.
“Look who it is,” Slim noted dryly.
He and Sullivan hadn’t been on good terms since about five seconds after he showed up. “The guy thinks he’s funny. Everything’s a goddamn joke to him.”
I hadn’t expected much when he became a prospect; guys like him always seemed to fold when they realized the club was about more than partying. They’d get their hands dirty once and then disappear not long after; unable to hack it.
Sullivan had surprised us all though.
He took orders from other club members and kept showing back up for more. One of the originals had even bound him up before dragging him behind his bike after he mouthed off to the guy’s Ol’ Lady. Afterward, he’d spit blood from his mouth and apologized with a grin like it was nothing.
The dust settled, and I watched as he yanked his passenger off the back of the bike and stomped toward us.
“Grey, Slim,” he nodded with a smile, before moving to take up his post near the clubhouse doors.
I glanced down at my watch. “You’re late, Prospect. That’s gonna cost ya.”
His grin faded. “Yeah, my Ol’ Lady couldn’t get her shit together. What’s the difference between a vacuum and the old ball and chain?” When we shrugged, he added, “After five years the vacuum still sucks.”
Yeah, that seemed about right.
“Prospect, is it you or your Ol’ Lady trying to earn a three-piece here? Don’t show up late again,” I warned.
He spit a stream of tobacco onto the dirt and nodded. “I think she understands now how important this is to me. It won’t happen again, Grey.”
“See that it doesn’t.”
When he walked off, Slim whistled. “Jesus Christ, that guy’s a disrespectful little prick. I’m calling it right now; there’s no way he earns his—”
His voice trailed off, and I followed his stare to Sullivan’s Ol’ Lady. She removed her helmet, and I froze. It was the woman I’d fucked in a motel a few months back.
Betsy.
She must’ve felt like she was being watched because her head jerked up and I watched her eyes widen in recognition. So, she remembered me too.
I’d never gotten a chance to offer her a position at the club because when I woke up the next morning, she was gone, along with a fifty from my wallet.
As she unzipped the oversized leather jacket and my gaze drifted down past the recent bruise on her cheek, I realized something else.
She was very much knocked up.
* * *
“I’m surprised you’re not out there, riling everybody up with a speech about brotherhood or some shit like that.” Slim sat down on the couch across from me.
I shrugged. “Had something come up.”
Someone, to be more specific. There was no way in hell I was going within fifty feet of that prospect’s wife. I’d been drinking and running the numbers in my head and I didn’t like my odds, but I knew that I’d worn a rubber.
I couldn’t lose sleep on it. I had to keep my head straight and focus on what was most important—preparing the men outside for war.
He stretched out and lit up a joint. “You took off on me earlier. Are you sure you’re okay?”
I rubbed at my temple and sighed, “I’m just not in the mood for company tonight. Is that a fuckin’ problem for you, Donahue?”
“I didn’t come here to start shit with you, man. Look, David crashed and Lou took him back to the house, but I wanted a few minutes to discuss something with you.”
There was something in his tone that made me think I wasn’t going to like what he was about to say, and I looked up at him warily.
“I’ve got an uncle down in south Texas. My old man said he’s looking for someone to take over his construction business.” Slim’s jaw tightened when I remained silent. “C’mon, man. Say something.”
I steepled my hands under my chin. “You’re our Road Captain. You can’t just take off because it don’t fuckin’ suit you anymore.”
His jaw ticked in anger, but I looked back down at the scratch pad on my lap, dismissing him to check over the numbers for tomorrow’s run.
Instead of leaving, he stood up and leaned over me. “No? After everything we’ve been through, you’re gonna act like the goddamn Pres and tell me no? Where the fuck do you get off?”
“You were looking forward to patching in when you knew the kind of money you’d make for your family. Tell me I’m wrong. Now, you wanna enlighten me as to what the fuck’s changed?”
Slim’s face darkened and his hands balled into fists. I’d only seen him mad on a handful of occasions; out of the two of us, he’d always been the level-headed one.
“What’s changed?” he spat. “Six of our guys are going down for conspiracy! I’ve got a wife at home who’s preparing herself for the day that I don’t come back from a run!”
“You’re willing to give up everything for that? You’re going to force me to strip you?” I calmly asked.
He knew the deal.
You left Silent Phoenix with what you came into it with—nothing. I’d hunted down more than my fair share of former members and retrieved colors; and that included their club tattoos. Razor or switchblade, it didn’t matter as long as it got the job done.
Slim sank back down onto the couch. He looked like shit and I knew then that he’d been thinking about this for a while.
“That’s not it, Jamie. It’s David—” His voice cracked, and he worked his jaw back and forth until he was in control again. “This ain’t a life for kids and you know it.”
I raised my chin. “We grew up in it or did you forget that?”
He shook his head with a bitter laugh. “Fuck, it was a different time back then. Our old men didn’t have any other choice after the war. Me? I want my son to respect me; to know what it is I do. I told you back then that if I had a choice, I’d want
to do something with my hands. This is it.”
My best friend was asking for the impossible.
“If I were the Pres, I would’ve already told you no.”
He barked out a rough laugh. “Well, thank Christ no one put your dumb ass in charge.”
“So, just like that, you’re out?”
“No, I’ll wear these colors ’til the day I die, but I’ll do it as a Nomad. You need me, I’m there. You’re more than just my friend, Jamie, you’re my brother.” With his compromise on the table, Slim sat back and took a long drag.
By offering to be a Nomad, he’d get to keep his colors and remain in the club. He just wouldn’t belong to any specific chapter. Our Nomads had always operated as a special forces team; coming in when shit went south. I wanted him here, but I had to admit that what he was offering was better than nothing.
“This is really what you want?” I finally asked.
He nodded. “I do. I don’t even care if it blows up in my fuckin’ face, I’ve got to try, you know? For my boy.”
I didn’t know. I’d had a shitty example of a father and I wasn’t willing to bring any child into this fucked-up life of mine. Slim was different though. He actually gave a shit about his wife and kid and did his best to do right by them.
I would’ve been a prick to hate him for that, even if I didn’t get it. “Okay. You wanna deal with a hundred percent humidity and mosquitos bigger than a fuckin’ dog, be my guest. You have my blessing.”
“I didn’t know I needed it,” he responded dryly. “But, thank you.”
I fought rage the entire walk back to my room after Slim took off. I wanted to drink until I fell off the goddamn barstool. I needed to hit something until I felt better about letting my best friend leave.
I turned to go out and find someone when I remembered that every chapter was here. Wolverine’s words rang in my head:
“A good leader acts out only when necessary. If you have to use your fists to gain respect, then you’ll fight for it the rest of your life. ‘The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting.’”
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