I needed to remember who the real enemy was.
I leaned against the wall next to my room, inhaling and exhaling until the urges passed. My enemy wore a badge, not a kutte. I just had to bottle what I was feeling and save it for tomorrow’s ride.
Maybe I’d shower and take my frustrations out on one of the girls. They usually enjoyed that. I opened the door and flipped the light on and there she was; the woman I’d been trying to avoid all night.
“Is there a reason you’re in my room?”
She stood up and held her chin high as I stalked toward her. “I…” Her voice wavered slightly, but she stood her ground. “I need to talk to you.”
I kept my pose casual as I stared down at her. “You should be off with your man, not chasing after his brother, don’t you think?”
Betsy swallowed nervously. “He’s indisposed at the moment.”
The way she said it told me everything I needed to know. Sullivan was off fucking a club whore. “And? Why are you here?” I enunciated each word as if she was stupid.
“I’m six months pregnant.”
I looked her up and down again. “Congratulations, but you didn’t need to come down to my room to tell me.”
She took a deep breath. “It’s yours.”
The room shifted, and I gripped her shoulders in my hands, squeezing until her eyes widened in fear. “What the fuck are you trying to pull here? You want money? What—what the fuck do you want?”
“I don’t want anything from you, I swear! I just thought you had a right to know the truth. I swear I didn’t know that Michael was in your club or, or any of that—” Her voice broke off in a sob and she looked up at me with watery eyes.
My head was a fucking war zone. I’d wrapped it up, meaning there should’ve been zero chance that the kid in her belly was mine, but the look in her eyes told me she was telling the truth.
I’d been looking for a fight though, and I wasn’t going to wave the white flag and admit defeat. “I used a condom, sweetheart. Maybe track down one of the other guys you were fucking—”
“You were the only one I was fucking,” she hissed. “I’m just as scared as you are right now, believe me. If Michael knew…” A visible shudder passed through her body. “If Michael knew, I’d be dead.”
Ma.
Jesus Christ, every time I saw this broad, I was reminded of my dead mother. It damn near knocked the air from my lungs.
“I can’t—are you sure?”
She bit her lip and nodded. “Michael had started prospecting for the club and he’d gone on a run. He was always gone, and I couldn’t stand being alone for a moment longer. I went out and found you and now, here we are.”
I nodded as my legs began to buckle underneath me. I sank down onto the edge of the mattress and tried to wrap my mind around the fact that, in spite of my best efforts, I was going to be someone’s father.
“Can you?” Betsy began, before biting down on the corner of her lip. “Can you please touch me? Michael hasn’t since he found out about the baby and I just need to feel something.”
Without waiting for a response, she moved in front of me and brought my hands up to rest against her belly. It was firm beneath my palms, which was unexpected, but not unpleasant. She reached down and lifted the hem of her blouse up and over her head before pulling my hands up to cup her tits. “Touch me.”
I would’ve been lying if I said that Betsy wasn’t the sexiest woman I’d ever laid eyes on. There was a softness about her that the club whores were missing. I let her guide my hands over her flesh before coming to my senses and bringing them back down to rest on my lap. “Get out,” I growled.
“But,” she protested.
I laid back on the comforter and folded my arms under my head. “You heard me. Get the fuck out. You could’ve taken care of this and you didn’t. Way I see it, this is your problem now. I don’t give a fuck if your man wants you or not, but don’t fuckin’ come around here, expecting me to fill in.”
“Grey,” she cried out, but I cut her off.
“I ain’t tearing apart a club or losing a good man because some broad got herself in trouble and didn’t think to take care of it sooner. Close the fuckin’ door behind you.”
I stared up at the ceiling until I heard the lock click before going in search of Dagger. I needed the feel of a needle against my skin. Anything to calm my mind.
What had she been thinking—that I’d take her in my arms and profess my love?
That was the kind of shit thinking that got people killed.
Angel had given Ma something more dangerous than love. He’d given her hope and made her believe that they’d get to be together someday.
He sold her on a fairy-tale; made her believe in something that didn’t exist. Because of it, she ended up dead, and he became a reclusive alcoholic.
Betsy had come here looking for her own version of hope, but I knew that if I intervened, she’d be worse off than she was now.
I’d already tried and failed to save one woman.
I wasn’t willing to go through it again.
Love was bullshit.
And hope was a death-trap.
Chapter Six
Grey: 1986
“Hey, Pres? What’s the difference between a lentil and a chickpea?” Comedian slid onto the barstool next to mine and leaned into Dragon’s face. I ground my teeth together before knocking back another shot.
Yeah, Comedian.
When Dragon saw that Sullivan was never going to drop his stand-up routine act, he’d decided to saddle him with a name to match.
I couldn’t stand the guy but respected his place in the club. It didn’t mean that I wasn’t planning on killing him the first chance I got though.
He elbowed Dragon when he didn’t respond. “I’ve never had a lentil on my chest!” His booming laughter filled the bar, and I noted that more than one biker rolled his eyes.
Dragon calmly snorted another line of blow before growling, “Shut the fuck up, Comedian.”
Sullivan just laughed and slapped him on the back. “I’ll work on another one for ya, but first, I gotta drain the lizard.”
I clenched my hand into a fist and stared down at the row of empty shot glasses lined up in front of me. I hadn’t wanted to involve myself four years ago; thought I’d let nature run its course and no one would be the wiser.
That lasted until he beat the ever-loving shit out of Betsy, almost killing her and the baby. If it hadn’t been for our club doctor being nearby, he would’ve succeeded. She’d been luckier than my ma, but Comedian’s actions had destroyed any chance of her having more kids.
Slim once told me that the first time he looked into David’s eyes; he knew that he’d do anything for him. I thought it was a load of shit until the first time I laid eyes on that baby boy.
He was mine.
There wasn’t a fucking doubt in my mind even if I couldn’t do shit about it.
I stayed back in the shadows after issuing a warning to Comedian to save the beatings for club enemies; anything more than that would’ve divided the club. He might’ve annoyed the shit out of most of the bikers, but he was great in combat and had earned their respect by putting himself right in the thick of it.
And, he did it all with a smile on his face, which was pretty goddamn unsettling.
I watched from the sidelines as my son, Mikey, grew into a toddler. Gradually, Betsy allowed me to come around when Comedian was off fucking anything that moved and I found, to my utter shock, that I actually liked spending time with the kid. That had been enough, at first.
Then, I began to notice how he’d flinch anytime Sullivan was around, and I vowed that I’d step up and end him. I’d claim Michael as mine and give him a last name he could be proud of.
“Good to see some things haven’t changed,” Slim noted with a wry grin as Comedian stumbled toward the back of the bar. While his kutte still bore the Silent Phoenix emblem across the top, the bottom rocker now proclaimed Slim
a Nomad.
“Oh, yeah,” I responded dryly. “Comedian’s just a fuckin’ barrel of laughs.”
It had taken almost four years, but this was going to be Comedian’s last run. We’d come down to south Texas for a shipment of ephedrine and cocaine from our Mexican supplier and to take care of the key witness in Wolverine’s case.
Our lawyers had filed a motion to suppress evidence related to the dynamite counts early on, hoping to buy some time. The firearms and conspiracy counts alone were more than enough to put him and the others away for life.
The federal court granted the motion, but the government immediately appealed and requested a continuance, which was denied. The indictment was dismissed, but when it came time for trial, the government appealed the dismissal and the goddamn thing had been tied up the Court of Appeals ever since. Instead of releasing them, they’d kept Wolverine and the others locked up for public safety.
I’d almost become convinced that my brothers were going to rot behind bars when we received an anonymous tip on their witness. It was a man Wolverine had considered a friend of the club. We’d even done business in his restaurant a couple of times.
The lawyers on our payroll informed us that if we took the guy out, they’d file a petition for a rehearing, under the claim that their sixth amendment right to a speedy trial had been violated.
No witness and a violation of rights?
The case would fall apart.
Apparently, the asshole had decided to hide down south until his day in court. Unluckily for him, he was shit at staying under the radar. Slim had sights on him within forty-eight hours.
“Grey?”
“Yeah?” I blinked until the bottles lining the back of the bar came back into focus. I needed to get my shit together. I’d been zoning out more and more this trip.
“You look like Wolverine; sitting and stewing over the way shit went down. Let me guess—you’ve already come up with several alternate scenarios that would’ve been better for the club, yeah?”
I shook my head with a smirk and downed another shot of tequila. “Not even close, Slim.”
We’d led the nark blindfolded through the woods as he blubbered about how we had the wrong guy, pleading his innocence to anyone who would listen. Every snap of a twig had him jumping out of his skin in fright.
He’d continued sobbing and repeating the same shit over and over until I was ready to end him right then and there. Comedian and I must’ve agreed on that because he’d ripped the blindfold off with a growl, spinning Chris around to face his executioners.
His eyes had widened in shock before he weakly asked, “Guys? What’s going on?”
I’d almost applauded. Shit, I would’ve feigned ignorance too if I thought it would’ve made a damn bit of difference.
Initially, Chris had blamed his decision to rat us out on the Mexican Mafia. Unfortunately, as we were receiving a shipment, we had a member of said mafia with us and his story had quickly unraveled from there.
Comedian had circled him, like a shark looking for a meal. “You wanna hear a joke?” He didn’t wait for an answer before continuing. “I thought you might. Say Chris, what’s the best thing about fingering a gypsy when she’s on the rag?”
Chris had looked up at me, practically pleading for me to put a bullet in his brain. I’d seen it as part of his punishment though. It was only fitting that he was forced to listen to Comedian while digging his own grave.
“C’mon, Chrissy.” Comedian had grinned maniacally. “You get your palm red for free!”
“Jesus, Comedian,” Slim had noted from the shadows. “That’s a visual I didn’t need.”
I flinched at the shattering of glass before realizing that I’d gotten lost in thought and Dragon had once again lost control of a shot glass.
“So, what’s runnin’ through your head then?” Slim leaned into my line of vision.
“I’m celebrating, Slim. Ain’t nothin’ more to it than that.”
He frowned. “You sure, man? You’ve been on edge since we dealt with the nark.”
In actuality, I’d been preoccupied with my plan to take Comedian out permanently without drawing any unwanted attention from the other club members.
He had a point though.
Something else had been eating at me since we left the woods.
The first thing Wolverine had taught me was to never let the enemy get into my head. And until tonight, it hadn’t been a problem.
“No me gusta que me mientan,” Dragon had spat the words at Chris’s feet. I don’t like being lied to. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have business to take care of. Grey here will see to it that you have everything you need, hermano.”
Chris had straightened and looked to each of us to intervene before glaring at Dragon. “You leave the dirty work to your men? Wolverine would’ve handled this himself, like a true leader. No eres nada.”
You are nothing.
The rat had been right. Wolverine firmly believed in swinging the sword when it was warranted. He never relied on the club to exact justice for him. While Dragon liked being in charge, he was a shit leader, as evidenced by our falling numbers.
I realized how tired I was of being the good soldier while Dragon went off to sample the drugs we intended to sell. I was tired of watching Wolverine’s club crash and burn when I knew that I could turn it around. Dragon still saw me as a kid though and never missed an opportunity to remind me any time I tried to bring up my ideas.
“Nos encontraremos en Hades, hermano,” Dragon had added with a sneer. We will meet in Hades, brother.
In between digging and being forced to listen to Comedian’s godawful jokes, Chris had taken the situation and used it to his advantage. He’d looked me right in the eyes once Dragon took off with our supplier and dealt the death blow.
“You’re the one,” he’d panted. “Wolverine always said you were going to run the club when he was gone, but here you are, taking orders from a pussy like a good little soldier. Why?”
To be honest, I had no idea why.
Slim’s hand on my shoulder had kept me from charging after Dragon and demanding that he finish the job himself. Wolverine had considered this man a friend and in turn, he’d sold our secrets to the feds in exchange for protection. That should’ve been our main priority.
I’d never been able to come to terms with why Wolverine had hand-picked Dragon as the replacement. He wasn’t loyal to anything that couldn’t be snorted or shot up.
Chris’s words had struck a chord; maybe I was nothing but an errand boy for a shitty leader.
I’d picked the words apart over the next thirty minutes before losing my patience and putting a bullet in the back of Chris’s head. Both Comedian and Slim had jumped back as his body fell into the shallow grave.
“Fuck, Grey!” Slim had shouted. “Give me a fuckin’ warning!”
Comedian had just stared down into the grave with a grin. “I didn’t even get to the punch line on that last one. I like that—catch ‘em off guard.”
We’d taken out the witness.
Our guys were going to be home with their families before Christmas.
Save one.
Comedian would be spending his in Hades.
We were in Bandits’ territory and on the radar of several alphabet agencies. That coupled with the fact that our numbers had been down since Dragon took command meant I had to execute this perfectly.
“Grey,” Slim tried again. “You gonna keep starin’ off into space or tell me what the fuck is going on?”
“I’m fine… just tired of the same bullshit.” It wasn’t a complete lie. When Wolverine ran things, we were on top of the fucking world. Now, we were no better than dogs fighting over scraps. We’d even lost our bottom rocker to the Serpents. It was a fucking disgrace.
Nobody wanted to see a change in leadership more than me. Wolverine was going to get us back where we belonged.
He had to fix this.
I was sick of losing.
I grabbed the bottle of tequila in front of me and poured each of us another shot as Comedian sauntered back up. “To winning.”
Slim had just repeated the words and knocked his shot back when there was a commotion near the front. Dragon didn’t even look up from his line before barking, “Grey, fuckin’ handle it!”
“Hermanos, lo siento,” our supplier, Daniel, exclaimed as he fought his way through the crowd.
Brothers, I’m sorry.
The men let him through, but I was already moving off the barstool and back behind the bar.
Something was wrong.
I felt it.
Apparently Slim and Comedian felt it too because they’d followed suit.
“Shit don’t feel right,” Comedian noted quietly before pulling his gun free.
I realized that it had gone silent outside and the hair on the back of my neck bristled. We moved toward the back entrance in the kitchen, staying in the shadows, as Daniel marched in with an army of bikers.
Several of our guys met my gaze and nodded before freeing their weapons and slipping into position. The others waited for Dragon to give the commands.
“It appears we have a bit of a problem,” Daniel noted before stepping behind the bar with a reluctant smile. “You’ve been outbid.”
“The drugs were paid for,” Dragon stated flatly, still not bothering to look up.
“Sí, but now we have a higher bidder. So, you see, the drugs now belong to these men.”
One of the bikers stepped forward and my blood turned to ice in my veins. It was the president of the Serpents, Viper. “You’re in our territory, Dragon. And you know what that means? Anything you’ve got is ours—including the drugs. Now hand them over and we’ll let you run off back to the desert.”
They weren’t going to let any of us leave.
Our pathetic excuse for a president smirked. “We’re here to take back what rightfully belongs to Silent Phoenix.”
What the fuck?
Our numbers were laughable up against the Serpents. To start a turf war now was nothing short of a suicide mission and he knew it.
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