by A. E. Fisher
When Mallory spotted me coming over, she quickly said something to Anna and ran after Adair as the brat went in search of Jax. Out of all the role models the kid could’ve picked, it had to be Jax. I’d need to tell Hunter to put a pin in that quickly before I ended up with another Jax. One was enough of a headache; a second would be the death of me and the club.
I stood above her, watching her pointedly curl her feet up on the couch and burying her nose back in her book. She had her reading glasses on, which she normally refused to wear in front of anyone despite the sexy-as-fuck uppity look it gave her.
I stood there for a long time with my arms crossed over my chest as I waited for her to look up. She didn’t. She was probably still pissed about the shower and the fact she wasn’t allowed to come. But I meant what I said in the shower. The girl was mine, as much as she didn’t want to admit it. I’d just have to show her.
I leaned down, my hand reaching under her jaw and grabbing her face, forcing it to turn toward me. She opened her mouth to speak just as mine smashed against it.
Her hands came up around my wrist, trying to break free of my grasp, but I didn’t let her. I growled for her to open her mouth, but she resisted. I sucked her lip into my mouth and let my teeth graze against it, but her teeth just shut down harder. If she wanted to play that game...
I bit down on her lip until I tasted blood. When she gasped, I took the opportunity to slip my tongue in. I sucked hers into my mouth, forcing her to respond and also not enabling her to bite me back. I ran my tongue along the roof of her mouth, which was enough to make her moan and relent. She kissed me back, her hands anchoring me rather than trying to push me away as the metallic taste of her blood mixed between us.
When I pulled back, Anna’s eyes were glazed with lust and she was panting. It nearly killed me to stand back up, but I had business to attend to, and I had gotten what I wanted.
I knew everyone in the club was looking at us, despite their best attempts not to. We had a famous reputation in the club. I could even hear the exchanging of money behind my back—mostly to Lamb, probably.
“Be ready for when I get back,” I growled.
Anna’s hands grasped my hair, pulling me back to her mouth as she sucked my bottom lip into her mouth.
“Shit,” I hissed as I tasted the blood from where the bitch had bitten me back.
“Fuck you,” she hissed, giving me a sweet smile before she rose from the couch and sauntered away.
My dick twitched in my jeans as I watched her leave. Fuck, I was so screwed.
“You ready to go, boss?” Lamb said, coming up beside me as I watched him pocket the wad of cash in his back pocket.
“How much?” I responded, walking alongside him as we headed to the door.
“Three grand.” He grinned. I looked up and around at my annoyed brothers now scowling at me as if it was my fault the fuckers had bet too much against a money shark like Lamb.
“You know you’re a sick fuck betting on me and Anna, right?”
He answered with a smile. Of course, he didn’t give a fuck.
I shook my head, walking to the bikes where Jax and Ripper were already waiting. I dropped down onto my 2006 Harley Fat Boy and started the engine. I looked to the door as if expecting Anna to be waiting there, watching me leave, but she wasn’t.
I shook my head, clearing my mind of Anna as I pulled out of the lot and rode past Pipe before he shut the door behind us.
We had business to attend to.
As we pulled up outside Connie’s Diner, I wasn’t even surprised at the lack of bikes in the parking lot outside the front. I only spotted Charon’s smoke-colored one. I didn’t let myself get complacent with Charon’s seemingly carefree attitude and made our small group park near the entrance of the door in case we needed to make a quick getaway.
Lamb and Ripper parked up either side of me, while Jax parked furthest away.
Jax and Ripper stayed outside, as Lamb fell in behind me and we walked to the door. I could see Charon sitting in the third booth at the back through the glass door. His gaze was directed out a window as if he didn’t notice us pull in. He did, of course, but he still feigned surprise as we walked up to the booth. Connie’s was a nice place, classic taste, but a quick glance at the menu showed it had variety, not just classic foods but some other interesting things I wouldn’t mind trying if I weren’t here on business.
I slid in opposite Charon, who smiled as he met my eyes. Lamb took up the closest seat at the bar instead of next to me, taking a menu out to look over the contents, his eyes flashing with the same curious interest that mine had.
A waitress came over and filled me a cup with coffee before Charon gave quick thanks and she scuttled away to serve Lamb.
“I’m glad you got my message.” Charon smiled. “I was beginning to think you stood me up.”
“Why am I here, Charon?” I said, knowing I wasn’t late to our meet and not in the mood for his bullshit.
“A little birdie told me you’d gone into lockdown. Figured I’d be shot on sight if I turned up unannounced again after your old lady’s close shave with a gun.” He looked into the direction of the bikes, to where Ripper and Jax decided to glare back before turning back to me, disappointed. “I see you didn’t bring her.”
I wasn’t surprised Charon found out about the incident. Chains may be acting president of the Hell’s Runners, but he was still under Charon’s thumb, so in essence, it happened on Charon’s territory.
“You still might,” I said, ignoring his comment about Anna. Had I brought her, she’d probably have bitten his head off. She was still pissed about the fact he put Mallory in between his clash with the Hell’s Runners’ ex-president. Then again, that overly protective side of hers was one of her good points.
“I hope not.” Charon shrugged off my threat. “Anyway, I heard that our new friends are interested in one of your people.”
“You’re a bit late on the news,” I scoffed, taking a mouthful of my coffee, surprisingly enjoying its taste. “That’s not like you.”
Charon gave a petty laugh. “Yeah, well, your blonde must have made an impression on my contact, since he gave her all the information I wanted before he gloriously met his end.” He sighed, his face feigning tiredness. “Took me a while to set up a new contact. Lizard had so much potential. It was a shame to lose him.” His gaze flickered up to mine. “I guess it was lucky nobody else got hurt.”
I kept his gaze, not liking the way he said that last part. But Charon just shrugged and looked away, waving the waitress over to refill his coffee cup. She moved to refill mine, too, but I stopped her. “I’ll be leaving soon,” I said, and she nodded before walking away. “Get on with it, Charon.”
Charon looked amused and finally got down to the thing we were both here for. “The offer still stands,” he said. “Not a takeover like with the Hell’s Runners. An alliance.”
“Why?” I asked. We both knew Charon was approaching us for a reason. If he wanted us, with all the influence he had, it would probably be possible to try to take us over by force. Why bother with an alliance?
“I know potential when I see it, and I don’t pass it up easily,” Charon said, for once with seriousness and honesty. “Not to mention, you must be pretty important with all the attention you’re getting. Then that group has always been a scrupulous and absolutely horrible for business.”
“That group?”
“Oh? Looks like I’m back on top with my info.” Charon smirked, looking pleased with himself. “I suppose you’ve heard of their Bratva relations by now? Or rather, I know you have.”
It clicked. “You fed Lamb that information.”
“I couldn’t have gotten you to come here if you didn’t feel threatened. Knowing your past, I suppose learning about the Bratva did the trick.” Charon took a long sip of coffee, while I immediately felt the room drop into freezing territory as Lamb became deadly still in his seat. He may have been a few meters away with his back to us, bu
t with the intensity he was radiating, he could have been pressing a knife into Charon’s neck. One thing Lamb never took lightly was being outsmarted.
Charon must have sensed the beast he’d provoked, because he ignored Lamb instead of poking at him to wind him up, which I was beginning to think was his hobby, and moved on with the conversation. “Yes, anyway, the group your old lady had the pleasure of meeting are a ragtag group of ex-Bratva and ex-military mercenaries called the Blek Dzhek—I hope I pronounced that correctly?”
“The Black Jacks?” I translated. He pronounced it perfectly, but I didn’t give him the satisfaction of telling him that. “I’ve never heard of them.”
“You wouldn’t have.” Charon pushed his coffee cup aside, fixing his golden eyes on mine. “They’ve been operating only in the southern parts of Russia, up until now, that is. Business seems to have brought them to our beloved United States, specifically whatever business they have with you and your boys.”
“We don’t have anything they would want,” I argued, trying to figure out what a group like the Black Jacks could ever want with my club.
“You’re misunderstanding.” Charon sighed. “The Black Jacks are after money. Not yours, of course. They want the money of whomever it is that commissioned them to work here. What they’re after is what their benefactor wants.”
“Their benefactor?”
“Now that’s something I can’t help you with.” Charon gave a disappointed sigh, shrugging his shoulders. “As much as it pains me to stop the story at the best bit, I don’t know who the man with the big bucks is, and thus, have no idea what it is he’s looking for. And since it seems to be of a personal nature, I wouldn’t be able to even fathom a guess while he remains anonymous.”
I looked down at my coffee, wanting so badly to throw it across the room. I felt as if I had been tossed into a well and was still falling, the light getting smaller and smaller by the second. Tearing apart a club like ours brick by brick would be nothing for a man with the money to import a Russian mercenary group to do his bidding. I had to think of the club first. I was the president. And just like Charon said, there was no way we could figure out what they were after if we didn’t know who this bastard was. I just wished I knew what they were after, though if it was a person, I knew deep down that I wouldn’t give them up, not if that person was one of ours.
“Take my offer,” Charon urged, his voice almost sympathetic. “With opponents like the Black Jacks and whoever their benefactor is, you’re going to need it, and this is the last time I’ll offer it.”
I knew I had to take it. I had no other choice. To take on someone like this for the sake of my club, I had to do it. Sometimes to get out of the hands of a demon, you had to sell your soul to the devil. Or in this case, the Grim Reaper.
I slammed my hand down on the table and stood. “Fuck.”
Charon didn’t look at me as he stared out the window. “I’ll take that as an agreement then.” He took a mouthful of his coffee. “I’ll send someone to go over the details on another date.”
“You don’t have to go over the details, Charon,” I growled, whirling to face him. “If you screw my club over, I don’t give a shit how big you are. There’ll be retribution.”
Charon smiled.
I grabbed my coffee, downing the rest of the hot liquid, and slammed the cup back down on the table before turning on my heels. I stormed from the diner, Lamb falling in behind me as we walked into the car lot.
I met the inquisitive faces of Ripper and Jax as I dropped down onto my bike and fired up the engine. I just shook my head at them as they joined me.
“This person better be fucking worth it.”
On our journey back, Jax took off ahead like he always did. I figured the next time we’d see him would be back at the compound, but instead, his bike was pulled over on the side of the road.
Our trio pulled up behind him on the shoulder.
As soon as I took my helmet and sunglasses off, it was easy to tell Jax was getting blown off. It was a rare sight, and I lingered to watch the brunette ignore his southern charm and continue walking without looking back at him.
“Come on, you’re obviously heading into town. This is the only road in, and you’ve still got four miles or so to go in this hot sun.” Jax said, shrugging toward his bike. “Let me give you a ride.”
The brunette, dressed in shorts and a tee, had soft, tanned skin, darkened by repetitive exposure to the sun, so I doubted the heat would bother her. Not to mention, she was wearing thick boots made for long-distance walking that were well-worn but still in good condition, so I doubted the distance bothered her, either. She had a backpack over her shoulder, a pair of sunglasses on her face, and a flat smile at Jax’s advances.
Jax pulled out all his best coaxing to get her to get on the back of his bike, but she continued to remain impassive, her face, the part that I could see of it, seemed to grow tired of his constant attempts.
I sighed, looking back to Lamb as he watched the exchange. He had left the diner pissed, and to some degree, I could tell he still was, but as his eyes locked onto the girl and he quickly analyzed everything about her, a cold calmness fell over him.
I looked back to the girl, who much to my surprise, was now locked onto Lamb with a cautiousness that flew up like Fort Knox as she noticed his interest. Lamb seemed to sit straighter on his seat, his sunglasses lifted from his face as his eyes narrowed on her. Some strange exchange had piqued Lamb’s attention, and his eyes scrutinized her. Her gaze only lasted a moment, though, before she quickly returned her focus to pointedly ignoring Jax’s attempts at flirtation and, now, ignoring Lamb’s stares.
For a second, I would have considered that he was interested in her, which was an almost impossible thing for Lamb, since he grew tired quickly of things once he understood them, even more so of people. The reason he fucked with the brothers was because he got bored and loved to see them pissed off. Apparently, pissed off was an interesting emotion, according to Lamb, which was what made me the bastard’s favorite chew toy.
I turned my engine back on, and Lamb turned on his. I looked back toward him. He was already pulling back onto the road, his shades sitting over his eyes, head turned away from the girl. Just as I thought, his interest was gone. I took one last look at the girl, figuring that Jax would be riding back alone, and pulled onto the road, giving Jax one last look before I headed to the clubhouse.
Chapter Twelve
Anna
No new messages.
I pulled myself up from the couch, discarding my book on the table, not caring if one of the girls robbed it. Not that they’d care for such a thing. Bitches probably didn’t even know how to read.
I heard the door open with a bang, and in walked Jax, looking like he’d been slapped with a wet fish, before Wolf, Lamb, and Ripper followed in behind him. When Mia and Chloe ran into their father’s arms, Ripper picked his little girls up with ease. I saw his boy, Alistair, his stepson from his deceased wife’s last marriage, hovering on the stairs. He tried to hide it but looked relieved when he saw Ripper was back safe. The moment Ripper spotted him, however, Alistair turned and fled. Ripper sighed, but he still had a gentle smile on his lips as he set his girls down.
Wolf, on the other hand, was on Jax’s tail. “Why the fuck do you feel the need to race our asses just to get back first?”
“Don’t complain just ’cause you’re getting old,” Jax growled back, settling at the bar as Lamb slid around the other side next to Sweets, who grabbed a beer for Jax and set it in front of him, giving him a display of her fake tits.
“Don’t bitch just because you didn’t get your dick wet,” Lamb quipped, smirking at Hunter, whose joyful face mirrored Lamb’s as he took in Jax’s sour expression.
“It wasn’t the first time.” Hunter laughed, patting Jax on the back, reminding him that Mallory had flat-out rejected him last year.
“And it probably won’t be the last.” Pretty smirked, wrapping his arm aro
und his shoulder.
“Oh, you wanna go, fucker?” Jax growled, jumping to his feet. Pretty didn’t back down.
“You sure you can handle me with that bruised ego you’re carrying around?” Pretty laughed, coming toe to toe with Jax. Pretty was just a bit taller and broader than Jax, and although Jax knew how to fight dirty, Pretty had been fighting on the streets long before he had joined the Black Angels. It would be a fair matchup.
Normally, I would have gone over there and knocked them down a peg or two before they started breaking shit like usual when they sparred inside, but I felt too pissed to bother.
Instead, Wolf stepped up, clamping his huge tattooed paws on both of their shoulders. “Take it outside,” he ordered, but his death grip on them told them he didn’t want them fighting anyway. Their winces showed they got the message. He let go before facing the room of cramped bikers. “Lockdown is lifted!”
Cheers erupted throughout the room, and they became even louder when Mallory suggested a club barbecue to get rid of all the excess food, not wanting to waste it if everyone was going home tonight. Though a club barbecue meant a party later on, which in turn meant everyone was going to get trashed. And since nobody was allowed to ride drunk, not unless they wanted Wolf on their ass for it, that also meant everyone would end up crashing at the club anyway.
I sighed, dropping my head down into my open palm. My finger clicked the button on the side of my phone before I realized it and my clear display flashed up at me. For a second, I felt calm. And then I didn’t. I let out a loud, frustrated hiss, throwing my phone on the table.
“Woah there, Anna,” Pretty said as he came up next to me and looked down at my phone with those soft blue-gray eyes. “Wouldn’t leave it there, or you won’t get it back.”
“Bitches can have it. It seems to be doing fuck all for me,” I seethed. I glared at it and wouldn’t be surprised if it set alight with the will I was throwing into it to just combust.