by Jackson Kane
Tex mulled it over, wondering how I’d connected all the pieces. It was all I could think of since I got out of prison. I just needed my suspicions confirmed. Sitting on that kind of betrayal and not knowing would’ve eaten me alive. I might be a big bastard, but I sure as hell wasn’t an idiot.
“I love a good fairy tale as much as my kids, Junk.” Tex eyed me. “Good luck proving any of that.”
“Legion leadership, that’s what’s in this for you?” I accused. “You bring us in to the I.L. fold, they get a presence in Kansas, and you get... what? They gonna make you a cabinet member?”
“V.P. of the mother chapter. The C.E. has always been a dead-end club, a minor stepping stone. That’s it.”
“You sonofabitch.”
Tex excelled at making connections, but not even I thought that he’d be able to swing that kind of sweetheart deal for himself. That’s how he got the money for all these clubhouse upgrades. The Iron Legion must’ve fronted Tex a ton of cash.
“You can’t prove any of that, and bringing it to the table right after you get home will make you look spiteful and untrustworthy like a prison bitch... or a snitch.” Tex shifted tones like other people swapped hats. That kind of manipulation just came naturally to him. “Besides,” he said, lightening up considerably, “despite what you think, this is better for everyone. Miles… Skids… the others… they’ll finally get to see what the big time is all about.”
“The big time....” The words sat distastefully in my mouth. “That’s not why we started all this. When this is over, you just keep your promise and let me walk. Don’t make me bust out the coloring book and connect your dots for everyone to see.”
Tex got up and whispered to me, his tone shifting again to something dark and lethal. “Who the fuck do you think you are, Hendrix? You think you can threaten me? Look around! Your club is dead! New members, prospects, and hang arounds—I outnumber you now. You live and die on my say so! You’re one convenient accident away from being mounted on that wall. You remember that.” He shoved passed me, his shoulder squarely smacking mine. “Welcome home, Junkyard. Don’t outstay it.” He spat on the floor near me then slammed the door behind him.
I sat there an extra half an hour, taking everything in before joining the rest of the party. He was right. Even with Skids and Miles, my support network had evaporated these last few years. I didn’t have much in the way of blood relatives. The ones I did have weren’t local. So I walked out of the war room to join Miles and Skids for a beer, but neither were anywhere in sight. Already there was a mama whipping her top around. The party was gearing up to be a loud, sloppy night. Just the way I liked it.
Today, so far, was shit, but I’d be damned if I couldn’t make it a good night. I picked out the cutest girl around and sidled up next to her at the bar. The blonde smiled as I playfully bumped into her and introduced myself. But before any conversation could start, I heard this unwelcome voice from behind.
It was Loopy, the road captain, interrupting our tête-à-tête. “I’d heard stories about you. How you got picked up on the way to county. Girls on your dick, swimming in money. Who’da thought a little jail time would’ve turned you into such a little bitch?”
I let my head drop. There was only one way this exchange was going to end, and I wanted no part of that. It was exhausting, and it had already been such a long day. I stole a long breath then lifted my head to face him. Then I raised it a little more. Fuck me, he was a tall bastard.
The sides of his head were shaved into an extreme mullet, his long hair pulled back into a ponytail. His arms crossed over a new vest with fresh patches. He was a brand-new prospect into the club within the last year or so. I missed every part of this guy coming up, yet he looked like the kind of guy I would’ve voted down.
“Funny, I haven’t heard anything about you. Guess you must be nobody,” I replied with a touch of boredom, opening my first glorious beer in half a decade. “Fuck off, new blood.”
The wafting scent of the long-lost cold brew nearly lifted me out of my chair—such a stark opposite to pruno prison wine that was brewed in a toilet with smuggled ingredients from the cafeteria. That shit tasted like gasoline had sex with hot vomit. I tried it once and nearly went blind, so that was the end of that. But that didn’t stop me from dreaming about that one day I would have an actual beer again.
Today was that day. This was that beer. And I pitied the human that came between us.
“Don’t go fucking ignore me!” He slapped the beer out of my hand. I longingly watched it rocket across the room and spin out on the carpet like someone kicked my puppy. “We’re on the same level. New or not, I’m as much of a C.E. as you are!”
At first, I was furious. I wanted to mangle this big, dumb bastard. Then I realized that in the free world, beer grew on trees. I leaned against the bar, dropped my head back, and laughed at the absurdity of it. This was just Tex being petty, so he put Loopy up to this. He was pissed that I voted against him and wanted to show me that the old days were over, that he was in charge now, and that I’d better get in line if I knew what was good for me.
“Prospect! I seemed to have spilled my beer. Clean that up!” I calmly ordered the portly kid who appeared to be fresh out of high school. I whistled to the hang around working the bar and had him toss me another beer, then I eyed my discontented, new-blood brother. “Go ahead, whip it out. You put yours on the bar, I’ll put mine on the bar, and this pretty little thing can judge who has the biggest.” I squeezed the blonde next to me. “What do you say, darlin? You up for a cock-off?”
“Fuck you!” Loopy firmly pressed an index finger into my chest, which only proved my thoughts about Napoleonic complexes.
“You don’t have to be embarrassed. I can go first,” I offered as I deftly removed his finger.
He stood there awkwardly, not entirely understanding how to fight on this level.
“How ’bout this instead? Walk away or be carried away.” I popped the beer open, tipped my head to him, and added, “Your call.”
“Fuckin’ tough guy. You did a stretch? So what?” He yanked down his collar to reveal some faded prison tats. “You’re just a punk. We all know you sabotaged the deal with the Russians. You don’t give a fuck about the C.E.! You helped start this club, and now you’re gonna turn your back on us like a pussy!”
The room’s conversations lulled toward a halt as people began to take notice of us. This wasn’t about me at all. It was for everyone else who probably didn’t like the direction Tex was taking the club, but he was using me as a reminder at how it was before with Miles. I was being set up as a warning. This was supposed to go down regardless of what I said.
I shrugged it off dismissively. “Never meet your heroes, asshole.”
If I couldn’t get out of it, I could at least play it my way. I turned back to the blonde and smiled. Loopy’s face turned beet red, either at the insult or the blow off. Probably both. He was itching for that fight that I wouldn’t give him.
Loopy slapped the second beer out of my hand, and it sailed over the head of the prospect as he’d just finished cleaning up the first. The poor kid sighed and trudged over to the second mess. All conversations in the room now abruptly ended as they turned to see what happened and, more importantly, what was about to happen.
The blonde arose to her feet and excused herself as she realized it was getting too hot around here for her. I grabbed her thigh before she could escape and whispered for her to join me afterward. She smiled and nodded then stealthily disappeared into the crowd.
I spotted Tex who was watching casually. He tipped his beer to me as a feigned cheers as his smug smile ate half his goddamn face. I debated relocating it to his ass but then chose a more theatrical route.
“You know why they call me Junkyard?” I turned to face Loopy. He was a good half a foot taller than me, which didn’t bother me. Quite the opposite, in fact. I loved dealing with tall guys because they were always overconfident. Big guys relied on their
size for intimidation and wound up actually fighting a lot less effectively than the rest of us.
“Yeah, you used a junkyard car shredder to dispose of the club’s bodies. Ain’t no shredder here, man.” Loopy searched around, garnering support from his friends.
“Nah, we never did have a shredder.” I signaled the hang around behind the bar to toss me a third beer. “You know how expensive those things are….”
My train of thought blurred when she walked in—the girl Skids was arguing with outside. She wore sheer determination across her features like a mask that only barely covered her fright and unease at being in a room full of degenerate bikers. A woman who was here only because she needed to be, not because she wanted to be.
I didn’t know who she was, but I knew what she was—a woman from another world. A better one. One that didn’t kill you as hard or try to trap you in a box and peel years off your life. A world where my soul wasn’t ground into a fine paste. A lifestyle I’d been so far removed from that I wasn’t completely convinced it was still real. I wanted to be a part of that. Her world.
She was gorgeous in an exotic way that didn’t exist here. Obviously of Asian descent. Slender build. Long, soft face under a dark, chin-length, bob-style haircut. Her white blouse comfortably hung over her tight, sexy jeans.
In a throng of black leather, jeans, long hair, and metal, she wasn’t at all what I was expecting to see tonight. She was the first spring breeze through the pried-open window of a forgotten, dusty room long stagnant. The only thing was that this window didn’t like to be opened. This girl didn’t belong here. I needed to meet her before she realized that and left. Or was removed.
I abandoned the argument with Loopy. I was looking to get laid, not get into another fight. Tex could keep his posturing. I didn’t feel like playing his game before, and now it was even less appealing.
Her almond eyes flitted across the room, probably searching for Skids, but there was still no sign of him. She saw that I was the crowd’s current focal point and took me in as I sauntered over to her. The light skipped off her reddish-brown eyes like sunbeams over black water, making them shine darkly with each approaching step I took. She was cautious but curious.
My favorite combination on a beautiful girl.
Her body language was mostly closed off to new conversations, but I could squeeze a little wiggle room out of her lack of a frown that made her approachable but only to a man with the right mix of courage and crazy. I let the hands in my mind trace down her every supple, golden curve. I smiled. I was that man.
I needed to meet Robbie’s ghost.
Her subtly narrowing eyes suddenly shot open in surprise as her gaze slipped passed me. I immediately knew what that meant. It wasn’t good.
“Hey, I’m not done—” The moment I felt fingertips come down on my shoulder, I was on. A switch in my head flipped. I was back in prison. Loopy would need to turn me around to hit me, or else he’d look like a coward in front of everyone.
I pivoted toward him, flipping the beer bottle around in my hand so that I was holding it by the neck like a club, and ducked a predictable left cross. Continuing the quick, fluid motion, I whipped the bottle hard against his knee. It was followed by a grunt as the big man hobbled, then fell hard into a kneeling position. It was like chopping down a tree.
Trapped in a cage with nowhere to run for five years, “fight or flight” turned into “fight or die.” My brain was on autopilot. I moved instinctively. If there was an advantage available, I instantly took it without thinking. That’s all there was to it. My backhand with the bottle pinged off that sweet spot on his jaw, and Loopy was unconscious before he hit that lovely, checkered tile work. He didn’t look so tall now.
“Tex, you remember, right?” I sardonically called out to the man in the audience. His confident expression withered at being dragged into this now failed display of authority. “We sure as hell wanted one of those shredders. What they could do to a car... such beautiful machines,” I lamented, holding everyone’s attention.
The beer bottle was unbroken, the beaded condensation along the chilled glass being too slick for any of Loopy’s spattered blood to stick to it. A tooth must have shattered when I hit him, and his jagged grin mangled his lower lip when he had hit the floor. The black-and-white tile rapidly filled with pooling red.
I twisted the cap off and finally had my first, long-denied sip. Cool and crisp as time froze, allowing me to appreciate each and every nuance. It really did hit that old itch. So much better than I even remembered. Fuck, I loved a good IPA.
“We had to make do with an old car crusher,” I resumed while Tex seethed, his eyes narrowed. He shook his head, hoping I’d stop, but he awoke something in me that couldn’t be slowed… let alone stopped.
I strategically stomped down on Loopy’s throttle hand. Through my heavy boots, I could feel the bones in the big man’s hand crunch like old candy canes under a tire. God, hands were so very sensitive due to their function—to feel. The pain was enough to wake Loopy up and double him over.
The room was crypt-silent except for the rising swell of his screams.
You sonofabitch, Tex mouthed the words at me. I knew I’d have to watch my back, but I’d have to do that anyway. This wasn’t my club any longer—his previous words sank in my head and heart like tossed stones in a lake. He was right, and I was angry, but with the seventh member down, it looked like this new club was an even split. Tex and his two guys and me with mine. I liked those odds a little better.
“I think your boy might have trouble riding tomorrow. Might have to take a sick day.” I cocked half a smile to match the prez’s scowl as I imagined how staggeringly easy it was to let that brutal side of me take over.
I was greeted with disgust and horror when I turned my attention back to the girl who didn’t belong here, the outsider that I found so intriguing. Violence came so naturally that it took me a moment to even register what I had done had upset her. It was hard not to associate this out-of-place girl with a “fresh start.” In two steps, that fresh start turned her back on me and disappeared.
Now it unnerved me at how easy it was to slip back into the MC mindset and physically tear someone apart. Yeah, it had the mamas and a few old ladies bathing me in lusty glances. I’d get my cock wet tonight, no doubt. Hell, I should’ve been thrilled. Satisfied on every level. I was still the fucking man!
Past the bravado, the victory felt hollow. I’d divided the club, alienating myself further in the process. Worse still, I had this oppressive feeling that the civilian world had also rejected me as well. I wore the colors of a brotherhood that didn’t believe in me and had the heart from a regular world that could never accept me. I was an outsider on every level.
With all eyes on me, I had never felt more alone.
Chapter Four
Maya
“Van’s here! Who’s driving Miss Daisy?” the voice rang out, and I realized they were talking about me.
The men had their bikes lined up and were loading them when I strode over with my duffel bag. I would have immediately gone over to Robbie, but he’d told me last night to keep our connection a secret. I had to assume it was for my own good.
“I’ll take her in the van,” Robbie’s voice was quick to intervene. He tossed a worn, canvas military sack toward the driver’s side door to load when he eventually got in to leave.
After the fight last night between Hendrix and the other biker, if you could call something as brutally one-sided as that a fight, I found Robbie outside. He was smoking out by my car, waiting to scold me some more, no doubt. I had so many questions for him, but I was also exhausted. He had told me that I’d be riding with him in the van for the trip and that we’d be able to catch up on everything then.
“No. She rides. Cargo is too valuable. Skids, you’re taking the prospect. So who wants her?” Tex offered me up like I was a raincoat on a sunny day.
My heart fell a little as there were still so many questions I needed to
ask Robbie. I wasn’t too worried though. Being that I was stuck with them for a few days, I should be able to find some time to spend with just Robbie and out of earshot from everyone else.
“I have a car. I can just follow—”
“I’ll take her when we get to the motel!” someone shouted. The other bikers laughed, but it didn’t sound like a joke.
If I even made it that long. The thought arced in me like black lightning. The staggering realization of where I was and what I was trying to do filled my lungs with sand. This was all frighteningly real.
“Where the hell is Junk? Skids! What’s the girl’s name? Maya, right?” Tex’s expression darkened at the mention of Hendrix as he asked Robbie about me like I wasn’t even there though I was almost directly in front of him. It was amazing how condescending this man was, and of everyone here, I thought I liked him the least so far.
“Go wake him up! Tell him we leave in ten!” When Tex finally addressed me personally, it was only to issue orders. I obeyed immediately and left. The more distance I put between him and me, the better.
Robbie had assured me that Hendrix was a good man, the brother he trusted most here. The man that, from what I saw, wore violence as comfortably as most people wore vintage T-shirts. A nagging part of me wondered if I could actually trust Robbie, let alone Hendrix?
The human wreckage mixed with the party debris created a morning-after war zone in the clubhouse. I gingerly picked my way across the minefield to the bikers’ rooms where all the doors were open except for one. It had to be Hendrix’s.
I touched the door but was hesitant at first about opening it. It felt like I had spent the whole night trying not to think about him, and failed miserably. Hendrix was the quintessential opposite of my type. I liked the quiet, nice boys with the small smiles that, for the most part, had their lives together. Netflix-wine-and-takeout-on-the-couch kind of boys. This man was not that... in spades.