by Harper Riley
My dad had a house a couple of miles from the club, where we lived together. He never let me move in with my mom, something she’s still pissed about. We were very close growing up, and when they divorced she assumed I’d live with her. He deemed it unsafe and told her if she tried to fight him for custody, he’d have her living on the street.
So, she learned to live with only visitation, every other weekend and every Wednesday. Her house is at the very edge of Dad’s club’s territory, as far away as she could get and still have his financial support and protection.
As I got into my late teens, he let me have marginally more freedom, mainly by way of not requiring someone’s old lady to babysit me when he was at the club. Those were the nights I’d sneak out, or invite younger members of the Blazing Pistons brotherhood over to make out. I never went far with them, and I think they were afraid of the consequences if they pushed the boss’s daughter too far.
I guess I’m just not that worldly. But I know one thing: I never felt an ounce of the attraction for those guys that I feel for Grisham. And I think he feels that way about me, so I can’t understand why he keeps depriving us both of what seems inevitable.
As I wander outside, I get a few looks. No one says much to me, other than polite greetings. My guess is that Grisham put out the word that if anyone touches me, they’ll be in deep shit. By the looks of his bruised knuckles, I get the impression he’s not a man to fuck with.
I find the pool easily, and while it looks mighty inviting on this hot August day, I keep walking until I find the garage. I’ve been a sucker for bikes since I could walk.
A guy in a wife beater, club kutte, and greasy jeans, looks up from a bike as I approach, the gravel crunching under my feet giving me away. I raise a hand awkwardly.
“Hi, I’m Tanzie,” I say.
“Yeah, I know who you are,” he says, looking back down at the bike.
“Word travels fast, I guess?”
He grunts a laugh. “When your boss has a girl on her knees on the front steps, you don’t often forget who that girl is. Or who she belongs to.”
I frown. “I don’t belong to ...”
“To Grisham? Sure, you do. You think he puts on shows like that for just anyone? He showed all of us, and those Blazing Pistons fuckers, just whose girl you are. You’re not just club property; you’re his property.”
“So is that why all the guys are being so polite this morning?” I ask.
“Polite? Sure. They don’t want their teeth knocked down their throats. And girls like you make them nervous.”
“Girls like me?” My nose wrinkles. “What’s that mean?”
“Girls who look like you do. No makeup, hair natural, normal clothes instead of stilettos and dresses up their asses. You’re a natural beauty and you have no idea. Guys are intimidated by that.”
“I don’t know,” I say. “I saw a few of those ... women ... and they were quite beautiful. The guys seemed pretty into them.”
“Hookers, you mean? Well, they get paid to look beautiful and fulfill a desire. You’re just ... here. And it’s unsettling. Even more so when you’re protected by the boss. He don’t let women into his life. Ever.”
Hmmm. Interesting. I find a stool and hop up on it, watching him as he works. “What’s your name?” I ask.
“Tony,” he says. “Mechanic and garage supervisor. Make sure all the bikes run smoothly.”
“How long have you worked here?”
He purses his lips, thinking. His face is kind of wrinkly and the facial expression makes me think of a bulldog.
“Well, I started here when Grisham started the club, so like five years, I guess. But I was with him in another club earlier. I knew his old man.”
“Oh, his father was in a club, too?” I ask.
“Mmm-hmmm,” he confirms. “Killed in a turf battle when the kid was a teenager. Good guy.”
“His mother?” I ask.
“Died of cancer a few years later,” he says. “Why you so interested in Grisham’ life story all of a sudden?”
“He doesn’t say much,” I say, biting my nails. “He’s hard to read.”
“Guarded, yes,” Tony confirms. “Been through a lot. Built this club up from nothing. Hard to hang onto power, even when you’ve earned it.”
“What about his daughter?” I ask.
“We don’t talk about his daughter. She ain’t part of this, and he wants to keep it that way,” he says tersely.
“Like you guys left Drew’s daughter out of things?” I ask.
“Can’t speak for the decisions of others,” he says. “You don’t seem harmed.”
“I suppose not,” I say.
He goes back to his work, the chatterbox closed for business for the day.
Chapter 24 - Grisham
The Feds have paid me a visit today, asking about two missing teens they believe were escorted to a trafficking ring over the border recently. Thankfully, I am able to genuinely express that I have no knowledge of such a thing and have never seen the girls.
I’m fucking livid. I knew Spree was working an angle, but teenagers?
He showed up three hours late to the meeting I ordered him to attend yesterday, and today he’s standing in the corner of my office, smirking as I tell him about the visit.
“Do you honestly think I don’t know all of the things you’re doing?” I ask.
“I suspect not,” he says, picking at a fingernail.
“Then why the fuck do you do them?” I ask.
“Why not?“ he asks. “It’s fuckin’ boring around here. You think you’re Mister Up-and-Up, but you ain’t above the fray. You just like everybody else in this network. Runnin’ guns, pushin’ drugs. What the fuck’s the difference?”
“Those girls were teenagers,” I say, teeth gritted so hard I think they might break off in my mouth. “Little girls.”
“They like ’em young down there,” he says with a shrug. “Client asked for something specific, I got ’im something specific.”
“You disgust me,” I say. “You get one more chance. Get clean and sober and get in line, or leave this operation.”
“You need me,” he sneers. “I walk and you ain’t got nobody half as willing to do your dirty work. You wanna act like you’re some kind of saint, some kind of business man. This club is what it is and it means gettin’ a little grease on your lily-white hands every so often.”
I’m in his face in a heartbeat. “You think I don’t have blood on my hands? Haven’t had to make shitty choices or get dirty while I’ve built this operation? Fuck you. Get out of my sight.”
He leaves, but not without giving me the finger in one last show of disrespect.
I sit, staring out the window, watching Tanzie float around the pool in a tiny black bikini. She looks like a goddess, blonde hair on top of her head, big round shades covering her eyes. Her lips are pure artistry, pink and soft. Her legs seem eight miles long, toned and lightly tanned. I squirm in my seat, my dick having a moment with the view.
My cell phone rings and it’s Cary, my sister. Thank god for distractions.
I grunt a hello.
“Shannon’s first day of first grade is on Monday. You’re going to take her, right?”
“Hello to you, too,” I sigh.
“David, seriously. She needs you to be there for this,” Cary says.
“I don’t know if I can get away,” I say. “Things are bad here.”
She’s quiet for a moment. “What’s bad mean?”
“Rogue VP selling underage girls to traffickers bad,” I say. “Kidnapped daughters of rival club leaders bad.”
“Shit,” she says. “I told you ...”
“You told me. Yes. Again and again, you’ve told me to pull out, to go legit. I built this club, and I’ll be damned if I see it in the shitter. I have to fix this, Cary. I have to fix it and then I can walk away.”
“Promises, promises,” she says. “You said you’d leave when you found out Giselle was pregn
ant.”
“I’m not having this conversation right now,” I say.
“Well, I’m not going to be the one who tells your daughter you won’t be seeing her off to her first day of school.”
“She’s literally been going there all year,” I say.
“These are memories, David,” she says. “You walk her inside and introduce yourself to the teacher. You take her picture outside the school. You make a fucking effort.”
“Watch it,” I growl.
“Don’t tell me to watch it,” she snaps. “I’m not one of your fucking minions. I’m your sister and this is your daughter and we’re the only family you have. Get your head out of your ass.”
“I love you too,” I say.
“I’m serious,” she says. I hear noises on the other end of the line and it takes me a minute, but I realize she’s crying.
“Cary,” I say gently. “What?”
“I worry about you,” she sniffles. “Dad died in that world. Giselle ...”
“Don’t talk about Giselle,” I warn.
“You loved her. I loved her. But Shannon never got to know her. Don’t take away her father as well.”
“I won’t,” I say.
But I know I shouldn’t make promises I can’t keep.
Chapter 25 - Tanzie
Well, what a lovely day.
I spent an hour in the gym, then cooled off by the pool. Which has a bar, a fact Grisham did not mention earlier. I drank two of the most lovely, icy, strawberry-y drinks, and woo-hoo, I am feeling pretty damn good right about now.
I feel a little tipsy, which is cool, but I guess I should find some dinner or something.
Chef’s got a spread laid out in the dining room, so I grab a plate and go through the line, ignoring the looks I’m getting from the random assortment of men and women in the room. It could be that I’m only wearing a bikini that’s attracting attention. Maybe?
A lean, brown-haired guy beckons to me from where he sits at a four-top with another young woman. I wander over and ask, “Is there a dress code in this place?”
He grins, teeth a mess in his mouth. “Nah, not really. I’m Dexter.”
“Tanzie,” I say.
“This is Anna,” he says, gesturing to the young woman next to him. She’s a little plump, with dark hair and green eyes. Kind of a little goth girl. I wonder if she’s even legal. I wonder if she’s a sex worker.
“Nice to meet you, Anna,” I say, taking a seat.
“So you’re Grisham’, um ...” Dexter seems not to know what to call me.
“Prisoner?” I finish, raising my eyebrows and giving him a closed-mouth smile.
“Well, I guess, maybe, if you wanna call it that,” he says with a shrug. “Seems like you have a lot of freedom for a prisoner, though.”
“I suppose,” I say, buttering a piece of bread. “I don’t mind it here. There is a pool bar and the drinks are pretty tasty.”
Anna pipes in as a waitress comes over to fill our glasses with white wine. “Dexter says Spree nabbed you and brought you here.”
“Yes,” I say. “He sure did. Wasn’t nice about it, either.”
“I’m sorry,” Dexter says, looking genuinely apologetic. “He’s a little ...”
“Crazy?” Anna asks.
“Hey now, we talked about this,” he says. “We don’t talk bad about club leadership in front of other people.”
Anna rolls her eyes. “Spree is an addict and way crazy to boot. He used to be just a little crazy, which was mostly tolerable. Now ...”
Dexter gives a rueful smile. “He’s a fixer. Grisham is the business mind. He needs a guy like Spree, a guy who’s not afraid to do the dirty work.”
“I don’t get the impression that Grisham is afraid to get his hands dirty,” I say. “I mean, from what I’ve experienced so far.”
Anna says, “He’s not. He beat the ever-loving shit out of Spree two days in a row. He’s killed people. He’s taken a bullet.”
Dexter gives her a warning look. “That was a long time ago.”
I lean forward. “What was?”
“Grisham took a bullet for a friend about four years back. He was still a mess over Giselle and he was drinking a lot. The club was kind of chaotic because it was still new and he was still so young ...”
“Giselle?” I ask.
“Grisham’ old lady,” Dexter explains. “He was just a pup when they met, paid her for all manner of fun and then fell in love with her. Paid to get her out when he found out she was pregnant, but they barely got a few months together because she died having Shannon.”
“Now who’s talking too much?” Anna asks jokingly. She looks at me. “Grisham does not talk about his daughter.”
“I knew he had one,” I say. “I mean, he told me. Not a lot, but that he had her and her mom had died.”
“Oh, good,” Dexter says. “Then it probably won’t surprise you that he hasn’t had a serious thing since. He loved her a good long time.”
“Sad,” I say, my heart feeling a little constricted in my chest. I decide to change the subject. “So, do you two live here?”
Anna laughs. “No, we have an apartment a few blocks away. I’m a nurse at Mercy with Grisham’s sister, Cary. Dexter works part time at a garage, part time here at the club.”
“Do you like it?” I ask
Dexter shrugs and makes a “meh” face. “I like being in the club. I’d ride over a cliff for Grisham. Some of the other stuff, I could do without.”
“You’re that loyal to him?” I ask, intrigued.
“He’s a good man. Built a good club. It’s hard to keep a bunch of testosterone-fueled idiots in line and when one goes rogue, others tend to fall off the wall, too. I’ll stick it out because I like his leadership better than other clubs I’ve ridden with.”
“Why do you like being in a club?” I ask.
Dexter thinks about this. “Well,” he says, “I like the ride, obviously. But also the brotherhood. Most of these guys would step in front of a bullet for you. It’s exciting to get in a pack and get on the highway toward some deal. I like staring down another crew and walking away with whatever we went for. It’s exciting, I guess.”
“Dangerous,” Anna says. “But it is nice to feel like you have a place where you belong. This is like a second home, and most of the guys are really good at heart.”
“I hear you on that. I grew up in a club and my dad always called members his brothers, too. Do you know my dad?” I ask. “Drew Williams?”
“Mmm-hmmm,” he confirms through a bite of hamburger. “Good guy.”
“Grisham reminds me of what my dad must have been like when he was younger.”
“I can see that,” Dexter says. “Your dad’s club’s too big for me, but I’ve always thought he was a fair dude.”
“Have you spoken to him since you ...” Anna starts the question but doesn’t finish it.
“No,” I say quickly. “I mean, I only saw Kit when he was here.”
“Maybe Grisham would let you call him?” Anna asks.
Dexter snorts. “That’s not likely.”
“Why?” Anna asks.
“Because why the fuck not just send her home, then? He’s got her; he plans to use her. My guess is territory, but he could have other things in mind. He didn’t ask for her, but now that he’s got her? He won’t just pass up an opportunity to get something out of it.”
“I’m not some piece of property,” I say, not for the first time since I’ve been here.
“No?” Dexter says.
“No!” I yelp. Heads turn and I feel my face go hot.
Anna smacks Dexter’s arm. He shrugs again and goes back to his sandwich.
Conversation turns to other subjects and I find myself enjoying the company of Dexter and Anna. They’re not too much older than me, I gather. I imagine I could be friends with them if I stayed here with the Barking Angels.
Eventually, they excuse themselves and say they need to head home.
/> I finish my glass of wine and order another, wandering out and down the hallway with it.
My intent is to find my way back to the room but I take a wrong turn and end up outside of a set of offices. I realize my directional mistake and turn, only to run into a hard body. It’s Spree, stocky and muscular, long-haired. His pupils are huge in his brown eyes.
“Lookin’ for the boss, then, little slut?” he asks, his big body blocking me from passing. I back up, finding myself with my back against the wall. He cages me in with his arms, his face just a few inches from mine.
“No, just got turned around after dinner,” I say, refusing to project anything resembling fear. I chug the rest of my wine, ready to smash my glass over his head if I have to.
His face looks terrible, one eye swollen, nose crooked, two black eyes, lacerations all over. So Anna wasn’t joking. Now I know why Grisham’s knuckles were so bruised.
“Well, it’s good to see you. And I mean, I’m really enjoying seeing you,” he says, looking me up and down. “Nice outfit.”
I’m not sure what to say to this guy, so I duck out from under his arms, taking a few quick steps to get away from him. He catches up quickly, grabbing the string of my bathing suit top so that it unties, the black fabric falling down, exposing my breasts. He lets out a hooting sound.
“Knew it would be worth a look-see,” he says, grinning like a maniac. “Them are some lovely little titties. Pair that with that gorgeous mouth that looked so comfortable around boss’s cock and it’s no wonder that fucking uptight bastard wants to keep you all locked up in his room like his personal cunt.”
I stand firm, trying not to be afraid or intimidated. “You touch me and you know Grisham will kill you.”
“Yeah, I s’pose he would,” Spree says, frowning. He shakes his head. “Guess I’ll just have to dream of your sexy little ass, then.”
He smacks my ass. “Get gone, then.”
I don’t waste time getting gone, retying my suit as I scurry away, thankful for whatever fear Grisham instilled in his VP the past two days.
Chapter 26 - Grisham
Giselle must be looking down on me, thinking what a colossal piece of shit I turned out to be as a father. Fuck. I am fucking up. Not just with Shannon, but with Cary, too.