Law Maker 7.5 (Renegade Souls MC Romance Saga)

by V. Theia

  Lawless wasn’t looking for trouble.

  Trouble usually found him.

  “Careful, son. We’re easy going until provoked, you got it? Hawk is Hawk, if he wants to stare at your pretty fucking ass, he’s gonna stare. Word to the wise, don’t mess with him.”

  “Maybe he doesn’t mess with me.”

  Preacher sauntered off with his jugs of beer in each big paw, muttering, “mad fuck.”

  He wasn’t mad, but he could act like it when he wanted to.

  The third run in came several weeks later.

  Pressing his knee into the chest, he listened to the guy beneath him wheezing for air.

  “Man, get the fuck off me, I didn’t mean nothin’.”

  Lawless pressed down harder. This time using his thumb in the guy’s windpipe hard enough he gurgled. And scared eyes started to bulge out of the sockets.

  “Is that so? I tried to rob myself, did I?”

  “Sorry. Sorry. Sorry.” Oh, the litany of begging was almost enough to make Lawless smile. But kneeling on a rancid alleyway floor meant he wasn’t happy. He squeezed the throat of a two-bit dipshit who’d tried to slide his hand in Lawless’ coat.

  Amateur. He ought to be ashamed of his game.

  “Man, I’m sorry, okay?”

  “I don’t enjoy people stealing my stuff.”

  The face turned red. Eyes became bulbous and for a hot second he thought about going the extra mile and ending this fool. But then there would be a body to deal with and it was too cold to be digging graves tonight.

  He released the throat, removed his knee from the chest and Lawless rose, while the boy flopped on the ground spluttering like a weakling who needed his momma.

  Pity too because he had dick sucking lips, but he didn’t reward bad fish.

  “I see you again, I even smell your sickening cologne, and it will go so much worse for you.”

  The taste of violence has always been a clatter he cared for.

  Call him sentimental, but he felt juiced as the thief hauled himself up and ran away.

  Then Lawless heard slow clapping. When he spun around, what do you know… who did he see gathered at the end of the alleyway? Several of the bikers, and they appeared like they’d watched a matinee show while getting blown.

  “Hawk nailed it; you are trouble.” The same big bastard he’d shared words with laughed. The beard one standing next to him in a ridiculous beanie hat cracked a grin too. “You saved us the trouble of shaking that joker down,” beanie said. “He stole from our boy’s old lady.”

  Lawless shrugged and buttoned his leather coat. “It was my pleasure.”

  Almost, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.

  “Let’s buy you a beer,” one said and the other three agreed.

  It wasn’t the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

  But there was free beer.

  And sometimes the right fit finds you whether you looked for it or not.

  Smiler didn’t say a word and he didn’t for a long time.

  But Lawless was right about their kinship.

  It takes a crazy fucker to recognize another crazy fucker.

  SEVEN

  “Double adoption.” - Lawless

  Being wild doesn’t always translate to being out of control.

  Oh, Lawless was that for a while.

  But he was the smart kind of wild and out of control.

  An oxymoron? Perhaps. But then, he didn’t always have to make sense to anyone but himself. Sometimes he felt like he was conversing with dumb dogs when people tried to engage with him.

  For what reason? Bad fish didn’t need reasons when they saw Lawless.

  They were fearful and gave him a wide berth. Or they gravitated to him like he was the sun and they were flapping their Icarus wings.

  Fear and lust.

  It was all the same uproar whistling through his ears.

  His knuckles hurt and his neck hurt.

  While he laid in his bed under what felt like a mountain of heavy blankets, he wondered why his body hurt all over.

  Voices outside the door brought him to alertness. His knuckles and neck pain tag-teamed a throbbing head. Sickness rolling through his torso.

  Hangover, he deduced.

  Which meant he was probably in a fight last night.

  Lawless rolled to his back and threw off the blankets, letting air get to his naked skin before he suffocated. He reeked of liquor and smoke.

  “You see Lawless this morning?” He heard outside of the door.

  “Nah, Jed. Not since that shit last night.”

  “Heard it was bad.”

  “If you call nearly going Joker on some guys face bad.”

  The other voice was Preacher.

  Three years with the Renegade Souls MC as the enforcer, and his bad reputation as big as it had ever been. He was reduced to gossiping dudes outside of his own door.

  Groaning against the pain, he rolled out of bed and threw open a window to dilute the rancid atmosphere in the room. He didn’t care it was the middle of winter and snow was everywhere. His balls would freeze in minutes but at least he could breathe. Cool air stinging his lungs, while the two sacks of meat congregating outside his door continued to flap their gums.

  “He’s been on one lately.” Rider’s uncle piped in.

  “Celebrating that win over Hades. We got the shipment and Lawless went to town on some of the Rebels. Left three needing the emergency room.”

  “Can’t say as I have any sympathy. Is our boy good?”

  Our boy.

  They’d claimed him soon as they put that patch on his leather cut.

  Three years and it still felt itchy at first to hear the claim but it wasn’t a bad itch.

  They didn’t stifle Lawless, almost as if they sensed he couldn’t stand being clung to.

  He’d gone to war with those boys and relished the fight.

  He was a damn good enforcer, tooting his own horn.

  He and smiler worked as a good pair. Mainly because Hawk hardly opened his fucking trap and that worked fine for Lawless. But the pair of them were in sync when it came to mutilating those who needed taking down a peg.

  Rider discovered early on in Lawless’ recruit that he didn’t have a ceiling on what he’d do.

  “Seems to be,” Preacher replied as those two wandered away from the door, he heard Jed’s retreating voice. “I’ll keep an eye on him today.”

  They’d claimed him whether he wanted claiming or not.

  Fortunately they did it in a way that didn’t tighten Lawless’ skin on his bones. Otherwise he would have hit the road long ago.

  Not that he was putting down firm roots. Even if his mountain log cabin was brand new. He figured owning property was the smart move.

  Secluded and out of the way of nosy fools with the right amount of distance from the club. There was privacy in the custom built lodge, spaced apart from the main house. He could have his pleasure with bad fish without letting them fester in his house.

  Did he go there last night for fun?

  He couldn’t remember, but he’d soon know once he took a ride up the mountain to check it out. There was always evidence of his enjoyment in the lodge. Sometimes it was a body hanging from meat hooks. Usually blood or come on the floor.

  Fish did not have good house manners.

  Not when Lawless was fucking them or beating them.

  Was that his flavor last night?

  He didn’t always go down the kinky route when he wanted to get off. But being as his memory was pretty sketchy, he didn’t have the first clue what he’d done or with who. He only remembered how angry Hades was and Lawless celebrating being the one who pissed him off.

  Across the room a noise caught his attention and he swerved his neck, ignoring the pain ringing through his ears. Padding naked across the floor, he crouched, looking at the tiny gray kitten inside a cardboard box. It was mewling pitifully, not grown into its voice box yet.

  Stroking a fingertip o
ver the small furry head, it started to butt back for attention. “Hey, champ, you survived then, knew you could do it.”

  He went about bottle feeding the abandoned kitten. He fattened them up, got them to a stage where they could fend for themselves then found them a home.

  The boys questioned it at first.

  The killer with a heart.

  It wasn’t that.

  And Lawless wasn’t big on explaining himself so they dropped it eventually.

  Two nights later he shared a glance with Rider then Hawk, who skulked in the corner waiting his turn.

  It was Lawless’ turn right now and he wasn’t giving it up for anyone.

  “You know, when I joined you assholes, didn’t have the first clue it would be this much fun.”

  He circled the bag of bones strung up from the ceiling by the emancipated wrists, bones jutting out of his skin. The rest of the body didn’t appear any better. Drugs, man, they took a person’s dignity that was for fucking sure.

  Rider chuckled. “We’re all give, man. You boys good here? I got somewhere I need to be.”

  “Sure thing, Prez.”

  The strung up bag of bones had been a very bad boy, pushing dope for Hades crew for months now. Trying to sell to Lawless last night was a bad idea. Now he was an unpaid customer in their slaughter shack.

  Begging for his life.

  They all begged.

  It was pathetic and downright fun.

  Jay claiming he was a serial killer in the making started floating around his head as he selected a tool to use.

  “Who’s your supplier?” Standing in front of the hanging body, Lawless grimaced at the stench. Being worked over by Hawk already, it was no wonder the guy looked half dead, bleeding from his orifices. So pathetic. “Aw, don’t want to talk? That’s okay. I was hoping you wouldn’t.” he depressed the drill and felt it buzz in his hand.

  The guy started to panic.

  Lawless grinned. “I’ve no idea why people call me a lunatic. I’m frankly offended. You see my brother over there? Now he’s a lunatic.”

  “Stop showboating, you mad fuck. Get on with it.” Hawk growled. The headcase was forever impatient for the kill.

  Lawless liked to play with his food.

  He was in no way religious but this was his church and he was in a mood to pray.

  He made the guy scream when he pushed the drill into his kneecap. Bones crushed to dust, blood squirted on his shirtfront, then he had to wait an hour for the meat to regain consciousness.

  It was no fun when they passed out.

  But Lawless possessed enough patience to wait it out.

  Eventually he got his answers.

  The metal shed was scrubbed from top to bottom by the prospects. And Lawless celebrated with a beer and a fuck later that night.

  A grateful club clinger went home with a few marks on her sated body.

  “You know it freaks people out when you grin to yourself,” he caught. and watched Snake throw himself down on the couch opposite him in the clubhouse. A big tattooed guy with a heart soft as marshmallow.

  How he was in a one percenter MC, Lawless still didn’t know.

  Snake was a puzzle alright.

  “It scares people when I go batshit too, don’t you know by now, I do what I want?”

  Snake half smiled but didn’t touch that.

  Just as well ‘cause Lawless was not of a mind to open up his guts and tell everyone why he felt unhinged lately.

  So he used his tools as any man would.

  He wasn’t an animal.

  Until he was.

  Tonight he wasn’t, so that was good for everyone.

  “We’re having a BBQ at home, buddy. Got smoked brats with your name on.” Snake offered. That meant he was cooking for the brothers he took care of like his own sons. So fucking domesticated, he wondered how the guy did it.

  Was it any different to what Lawless himself did for the trailer kids back when? Yeah, ‘cause Snake had his strangling emotions attached to those boys. He did everything for them with his heart bleeding open.

  Sometimes he saw the strain on the bodyguards face, in the long line of his gait. Witnessing the sentiments leaking off his face. Especially if he had shit on his mind concerning one of his kids.

  Lawless left that kind of cloying dependency far in the past. And couldn’t figure a day when he’d put his neck in a noose that tight where he gave that much of a fuck about anyone else.

  Feeling hungry, he shrugged. “Sure, bodyguard, I could eat.”

  He ate that night and he played chess with Bane, Snake’s youngest kid.

  All in all, his night didn’t suck.

  He didn’t know at the time he’d been recruited into another family.

  Even Lawless had his dumb moments.

  EIGHT

  “Proceed with submission.” - Lawless

  His life changed irrevocably in one night.

  If Lawless had second sight and knew beforehand how different his skin would hang off his bones on the night his club raided another, he would have stayed home with a bucket of chicken to watch reruns of the Golden Girls.

  The Raging Rebel’s raid and ultimate demise was a blast. He was the world’s greatest enforcer up in that shithole, popping those dickheads off one by one.

  The day started as any other.

  Until he received a text on his new number from Benz.

  It was an innocuous message to let Lawless know that his ex-lover still had him on his radar. Lawless had no shits to give about that.

  He didn’t go about hiding his identity or location even though he knew Benz hated to lose. He’d taken Lawless leaving as a kick to his nuts.

  Jay Benz would do what he needed to do. He didn’t care and he didn’t reply. He did do a fast hack to find out where Benz was and discovered he’d made his base not in Chicago any longer, but New York.

  The crime boss was going up in the world, playing with the bigger boys. He wondered how he was fitting in with the three factions of Italian mafia who had the run of the city. The Bianchi family especially hated to share.

  But Benz was in Lawless’ rear-view so he didn’t give him too much focus.

  The raid was right up his alley. Covert and violent, fucking fun. He sharpened his knives for hours, juiced to get going.

  He was irritated by Hades like every other member around the church table. For Lawless it wasn’t personal. Did he get a kick out of playing that moron at his own games? Fucking sure. Lawless liked winning.

  No one felt an ounce of guilt for the despicable violence they meticulously planned out.

  A stand up night he couldn’t wait for.

  Until two chicks got in the way and made Rider all squirrely.

  Of course, Lawless stepped in and dragged one of them out. Because he didn’t fancy spending life in jail because two bitches didn’t know how to run for the exit without someone holding their hand.

  He didn’t hate women, far from it.

  Okay, his momma was an exception. Is there dinner tonight, momma?

  But he had good times with a lot of them.

  Some were better fish than others, but what you gonna do.

  No one knew how produce tasted at the checkout, only knew that when you got it home.

  The two chicks they brought out of the Rebels burning camp were game changers.

  Though none of them guessed it at the time.

  Fucking hindsight was a cunt.

  Who would predict that shit?

  Lawless watched Rider—the calmest, most level headed man in history, lose his complete shit over Zara when he found out what happened to her. He became a wrecking ball of emotion, running only on fumes and hanging by a shred of sanity.

  For an analytical personality like Lawless, devoid of emotional attachments, it was like jumping in on season nine of a TV show where everyone was dead and you didn’t know the storyline but you watched anyway.

  He couldn’t give it much thought, not with his blood pump
ed from the nights activity.

  He showered off the scent of blood and fire and he grabbed a beer.

  The boys were supposed to be alibied with the club party, for when the law came sniffing around. Somehow … and he still didn’t know how it happened, but Lawless got tagged by that limpet chick he’d dragged out of the Rebels place.

  Lawless minding his own damn business got attacked by a screaming female. She clung to his torso as though she wanted to burrow into his skin and sinew and make a bodysuit out of his bones. Her nails went into his back through his shirt and her face embedded in his chest. For the first time in his fucking life.

  He.

  Lost.

  His.

  Shit.

  “Fucking HELL! What’s happening right now? Get it off me, Prez! Someone get it off me fucking now, it’s watering all over me!” The sobbing stopped but Lawless felt the girl shuddering in great big trembles on his body and his eyeballs implored Rider, who was dealing with the blonde one. “Are you all fucking deaf? Come and get her off me!”

  “She’s not so different to a cat, Law. She’s quiet. Keep her that way.”

  No fucking good came from helping anyone. Least of all the helpless.

  There was a reason animals in the wild killed their young.

  He was the MC enforcer, before that people would have called him a common thug or doctor death. He handled his own shit with his brains and his hands.

  And a little girl took him down.

  After extracting her skinny girl arms from around his waist, he internally shuddered. Feeling his skin heightened from the touch even through his shirt and coat and he glowered down at her.

  She was skinny, but tall.

  Dressed in a matted green t-shirt and jeans. Her long black hair hung around a face shrouded in sadness and fear.

  Both emotions clawed their way across the floor to him and tangled around Lawless’ legs.

  “Listen, I know it’s been a shit night for you,” he started, her tear filled eyes locked on him, pleading with silent screams. “You’ve probably had a worse few days in that place, but you gotta get it together, okay? For right now, you need to get it together. I’ll give it to you straight, always give it that way, so I’m telling you now, suck back the emotions until a time you can let it go.”