by Ker Dukey
“We need to get out of here. Half the fucking neighborhood heard this shit,” Stealer panics. I’m half tempted to put a bullet between his eyes, but there are enough bodies piling up.
“Call the doc,” I bark to Kai, who’s checking Jimmy’s wound. Jimmy breathes in gasps, his face ashen.
“It’s…not…I’m…not…going…to…make…it.”
My blood roars in my ears. I don’t know how to fucking help him.
“Fuck that. Stop trying to speak,” I tell him. Kai gives a curt bounce of his head, a severe look morphing his face. No. He’s going to make it. This asshole has had plenty of bullet holes.
“Shit, shit, I shot him by accident. There’s blood in my eyes, because of that stupid bitch,” Stealer cries out.
“Shut the hell up,” Kai growls.
“Stay with me, Jimmy, you asshole, you do not get to die on me.” I hold my hand to his stomach, blood, warm and sticky, seeping out, coating me in the last of his life. I grasp his fist with my other hand. “It’s okay,” I tell him, my chest constricting. “I’ve got you, brother.”
His eyes gloss over as he gasps for air. “Loved…you…like…my…own.” He dips his head. “Proud…of…the…brother…you…became…”
“Shhh, don’t speak,” I choke out, squeezing his hand in mine. The strength in his hold wanes, his head lolling to the side as his chest rattles, then deflates.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” I grind out. My head is pounding.
“He’s fucking gone. He’s dead.” Kai frowns.
I want to smash this place to bits using Stealer’s face, but I can’t lose my shit.
Halo joins us, his eyes taking in the fucking shitshow.
“What the fuck happened?”
“Get the shit out of the safe,” I bark out, giving him the card with the combination. My bloody finger smears across it, ruining the white.
When I look around, Stealer’s gone. Motherfucker. That pussy assed, little cunt. He’s getting Jimmy’s name carved into his dumb un-loyal fucking skull when I get my hands on him, piece of worthless shit.
“We can’t leave Jimmy here,” I tell Kai.
“His blood is already here, brother. This is all fucked.”
I look to the dead woman. The fucker was supposed to be here alone. “Bitch was screaming like a cunt, her dumb ass trying to run.” Kai shrugs.
“We can’t leave Jimmy here,” I say again. “Look for some keys to that fucker’s car. We need to get the fuck outta here.”
I pull out my cell to call my old man.
My old man is pacing in front of the clubhouse when we pull up. Darting forward, he opens the back door of the Range Rover before we come to a complete stop. Seeing Jimmy’s body, he slams the door and punches his fist into the panel until his knuckles bleed and hand looks deformed. Jimmy wasn’t just his VP, he was his oldest friend.
“Tell me again what happened.” He turns to Kai and me, his eyes wild with fury. “Bad information. Situation went bad. Jimmy got hit with a bullet from a prospect,” I grind out. I feel like I’ve popped a thousand uppers. My blood vibrates through my veins. Adrenaline is fucking crazy.
“Who!?” he roars.
“Stealer. He fucking took off while we contained the situation,” I try to explain, but there’s no excuse. I should have shot out his kneecaps. The dried blood all over me gains flared tempers from my brothers. I feel it too, brothers, the need for retribution.
“He what?” His tone is deadly.
“He fucking ran. I’ll go find him and bring him to you in pieces, Prez.” Kai pipes up, fisting his knife. Body shuddering with the violent need to punish.
“Fuck that. I’ll go to him. Get me an address. He dies tonight by my bare hands.” He’s not my old man in this moment, he’s Viking, Royal Bastard President. A merciless killer.
“I’ll come,” I tell him, the dried blood flaking off my trembling hands. He rattles his head no, placing his palms on my shoulders. “Get Jimmy inside, then send Rage and Jameson out to burn that fucking car so there’s no trace of it.”
“You don’t want me with you?”
“I need you here. You’re VP now.”
I look around the brothers who have gathered outside, all nodding their heads in agreement.
I’m VP now.
Fourteen
Drew
Twenty-five years old
One year later…
I’ve heard the saying “of all the bars, why did you have to walk into mine,” but I never thought I’d be thinking it until this moment. My eyes clash with Kai’s, and my feet halt.
Shit.
“You okay?” Willa, my boss and friend, asks.
She’s also running from something, but hasn’t told me what. I think it’s her teen son’s father. When I rolled into this town, I hadn’t planned on staying, but she recognized the broken parts inside me and took me in—gave me a job and a room to rent. Now, my head is exploding looking over at the familiar face. “It’s fine,” I lie. She grabs her purse and waves goodbye, off to the suppliers.
This is a hick town in the middle of nowhere. How the hell does this shit happen? “Been a long time,” Kai drawls, peering around the small bar before slipping onto a stool.
“Not long enough.” I smile tightly. My heart races, causing my hands to tremor, I busy myself by wiping down the bar so he can’t see how unnerved I am.
He gazes down at my hand, a tilt to his crooked smile. “So, this is where you ran away to, huh?”
“Here…” I shrug. “There,” I add, picking up a glass from the bar. I fill it, then slide it across the bar to a regular. He looks between Kai and me, frowning. His eyes drop to Kai’s cut, and for the first time since the doors opened four hours ago, he gets up and moves to another stool.
“Something I said?” Kai quirks a brow.
“Something you wear.” I glare at his patch.
“Bitch, that’s ignorant.”
“No, it’s cautious,” I correct.
“I’m just here meeting an old friend. I don’t want trouble.”
My guts churn, my eyes tracking the door and the windows to see if he’s alone. “He’s not here,” he informs me, placing his arms on the bar.
“Why are you?”
“Like I said, I’m meeting someone.” The moment the words leave his lips, Riley waltzes in. Oversized sunglasses cover half her face, but I recognize her immediately. She hasn’t changed a bit. “Speaking of, she’s here. I’ll tell Prez you said hi.” He winks, the side of his mouth curling into a sinister smirk. Bastard.
Thud.
“Drew?” Riley gasps, slipping her glasses off and gaping at me. “It is you. You work here?” she asks dumbly.
“Nah, just pouring drinks for something to do,” I say, expressionless.
Sneering, she says, “Still a little bitch, I see.”
“Ouch,” Kai barks. “I can stick around if you girls want to fuck that aggression out? Pay a pretty penny to see you fist each other’s cunts.”
“Over my dead body,” I hiss. His eyes ignite with fire, his tongue swiping out to lick his lips. My eyes flash to his road name patch above his right pocket: Killer. His steel gaze follows my eyes, a smirk creeping up his face.
“I told you it was her. Can’t believe I drove four hours for this,” Riley huffs.
“What? How did you know I was here?” I ask, confused to see them both so far from home. I’ve only been in this town a few months. Dad left money to keep me going for a while, but money runs out. Especially when your bitch aunt steals half of it.
Riley pulls her cellphone out of the large purse slung over her arm.
Holding the phone out, she shows me the bar’s website. In the banner, there’s a picture of me slinging drinks. Shit. That’s sloppy of me. I didn’t even know they had a website.
“I’m looking for an investment property. This one is for sale. Not that I’d put my money anywhere near this dump.” She wrinkles her nose.
“Still th
e snobby princess I see,” I remark.
“Satisfied?” Riley asks Kai. He offers her a curt chin lift and a dismissive flick of his wrist to get rid of her. What a fucking bitch. What does she get from giving up my location? Does Willa know this place is for sale?
“What now?” I fold my arms over my chest, staring at him as Riley disappears the same way she came in. “You going to drag me home kicking and screaming or just take me out back like a dog and put me down?”
“I’m going to have a drink.” He taps the bar.
Narrowing my eyes on him, I grab a shot glass, fill it, slide it over to him, then fill one for myself. “He hasn’t mentioned you in a long time, but you’re a hard girl to forget.”
“Stop playing fucking games with me, Kai. Are you going to tell Viking where I am or not?” He pauses his movements, the glass mid-air toward his mouth. “Shit. You don’t know, do you?”
“Know what?” My insides churn.
“Prez died six months ago.”
Thud. Thud. Thud.
He’s dead? My thoughts flicker to Alec. Pain accompanies the memory of him.
“How?”
“Fucking heart attack, of all things. Mid-fuck, if you can believe it. What a way to go. Jackie was stuck under his body for two hours before someone went looking for him.” He shudders.
“So, Jimmy is Prez now?” I breathe, my thoughts racing.
He grimaces. “Jimmy died last year. Fucking gunshot to the stomach perforated something important—lights out.” He clicks his fingers so nonchalant, it causes me to flinch. I liked Jimmy…
“Prospect, Stealer, I don’t think you knew him. He was a little bitch, fuck knows how he made it to prospect.”
“Was?”
Tilting his head his lips thinning as frowns at me with amusement in his eyes. “Come on Drew, you know how it works. They were picking his brain matter outta the carpets for weeks after Viking got his hands on him.”
Gross.
“I’ll give you one guess who took over as Prez once Vikings heart went pop!” He taps his now empty glass on the bar, signaling for a refill.
Oh my God. Alec?
“Your face says it all.” He winks at me.
A shiver snakes up my spine as the floor beneath me tilts, my legs feeling numb.
“He’s not the same guy who used to want to cuddle with the awkward girl. You leaving did something to him. Trans-fucking-formed him. It’s been the evolution of Alec Walker.” He points to a scar across the bridge of his nose. “He gave me this.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
Shrugging, he says, “Just catching up. I thought you’d want to know.”
“I don’t. He killed my dad, I couldn’t give two fucks about him.”
“Did he?” he says sarcastically.
The air squeezes from my lungs in a slow torture. “What does that mean?” I choke out.
“Nothing. Everything.” He stands, pulling a money clip from his pocket. Peeling out two twenties, he drops them on the bar.
“I need to take a piss. Then we can go home.”
It’s a ruse. He’s trying to confuse me. Wants me to question everything so I go back with him. My head spins. Grabbing the keys from beneath the bar, I rush to the bathroom, lock it from the outside, then sneak out the back. My entire pitiful life stays packed in the trunk of my little car. I jump in, bring the engine to life, and stomp the gas, getting onto the highway in under five minutes. Pulling off the first turn, I drive back roads out of town and send Willa a sorry text.
Fifteen
Animal
Twenty-eight years old
One year later…
We move a shit ton of product through this town. Keeping out the shit that sends more people to the morgue than their happy place became important to me when I took over as president. My old man’s lifeless body pinning Jackie to his bed will forever be etched in my brain. He was a respected Prez and liked by many, but he thought like a lawless asshole, more about making money over allies and building trust.
We may be bikers who get the law to bend to our whims, but that doesn’t mean we have to fuck over our customers. Dealing good product is good business. People travel from all over to buy our shit because I have zero tolerance for bad merchandise. So, when some kid ODs in my territory from bad fucking ecstasy, it pisses me the hell off.
My brothers pile in for church, taking their seats while making jabs at each other like teenagers. I lift my chin to Hog’s empty chair. “Where the fuck is he?” I grind out. Placing both hands on the table, I lean in, my mood apparent. Everyone stops fucking around and pulls their chairs in.
I don’t have time for this shit. “I fucking told that little prick to be here,” Halo growls. He’s our secretary, in charge of letting brothers know when they have to attend church or meetings.
“I’ll go get him, Prez,” Glen pipes up.
“Kiss ass,” someone hollers, causing a round of chuckles.
“When you assholes are finished, we have shit to discuss. First order of business: money was light this month from half our club dealers.” Mason, our treasurer, fucks around with his laptop. Despite his old man being a purebred, old-school biker, Mason didn’t get the same rough biker genes. His dad beat that out of him, instilling fear and anxiety instead. He’s clever, though—good with numbers. He keeps our books in order, deals with money and payout, and loves this club and the brothers within it. His old man still wears his patch, but lives mostly from a bottle these days.
“There’s someone pushing new product. We’re aware of it and narrowing down on where it’s coming from,” Jameson tells them.
“Someone selling product in our territory is unacceptable. Once one gets big enough balls, others will follow. Kai, Rage, put an end to this—send a message.”
“On it, Prez.” Kai grins. That fucker lived for these orders.
“Anyone have anything they want to discuss?”
“I just want to remind everyone about the cookout next weekend. Keep the ol’ ladies at home. It’s not a family affair.” Halo grins, and is rewarded with a round or cheers as Glen pushes through the door with Hog. Hog stumbles, eyes unfocused, limbs look too heavy for his fucking body. He’s high. Glen throws a baggy on the table, shaking his head.
“That ours?” I ask, picking it up and examining it.
“Yeah, Prez.”
“I only use it when I need it,” Hog slurs. There’s no way he’s this buzzed from snow. He’s sweating like a pig, swaying in his seat about to pass out.
“What the fuck else you taking?” I bark, and he slumps in the chair. Glen gestures to his arm, picking it up and showing the track marks. Hog pushes him away. “Don’t fucking touch me. I’m fine, Prez. Honest.”
“Honest?” I bellow. Rounding the table, I grab his head and bounce it off the wood. His nose explodes on impact, blood squirting everywhere. “I have a strong tolerance for your fucking bullshit considering what a fuck up you are, but I won’t have you getting high on club supply. I sure as shit know you didn’t pay for that shit. And the last thing I’ll tolerate in my club is a fucking junkie. You’re useless to your brothers like this.”
“I’m sorry, Prez. I can’t stop. I fucking need it.”
“Get this fucker out of here and into rehab before I take him to ground.”
“Boss.” Jameson signals for me to follow him to my office.
“We done?” I ask my brothers, who all grunt an affirmative. “Church’s over,” I snap, chucking the gavel across the table. Hog fucked on dope is unacceptable. His brothers should have noticed this shit and brought it to me long before it got this outta hand.
“What is it?” I ask Jameson as I sink down in my chair behind my father’s desk. It’ll be one year next weekend. His death came outta nowhere. If he had warning, he didn’t tell anyone. It rocked the club, but we bounced back and came together tighter than ever. We patched Glen in, long overdue. Hog earned his colors, taking the rap for a bust while out of
state doing a job for another chapter, that’s the kind of loyalty you want from a brother. Now he’s next to useless high as a kite on drugs.
“Drew’s aunt died,” Jameson announces, jarring me from my thoughts.
Fuck. Just hearing Drew’s name sends a wave of nostalgia coursing through me. Her taste, smile, devastation. “Make sure her funeral is paid for and put an announcement out so her relatives know.” I rub a hand across the back of my neck, trying not to show the way her name leaves me in ruin.
“On it, Prez. But you should know…her death…”
“What?” I ask, not liking his confounded expression.
“It was messy. Murdered in her house—tied up, assaulted, slit throat.”
What the fuck? “Do the police know who did it?”
“Nah. Apparently she’s the second victim over the last couple months.”
I sit forward, steepling my fingers on the desk. “Someone in our city is killing women?” Of all the women, Drew’s aunt?
He shrugs. “Looks that way. You want us on this?”
“Put the word out. Everyone keeps an ear to the ground, we let our presence be felt.”
“On it, Prez.”
Will Drew even see an announcement? How the fuck will she react to her aunt being murdered? Will she think it was the club? How much more does this girl have to lose? We’re a fucked up pair, both parentless. That’s some fucked up fate. My head swims with visions of her, bringing versions of her life swirling.
Wherever the fuck she is, I hope she’s happy. I searched for her—shit, I’m still searching for her. I need to know she’s out there living her life. Visions of kids running around looking just like her and some smart asshole wearing a wedding ring causes a fiery rage inside me. I’m on my feet, my fist burrowed into the plaster of the wall before I realize I punched it.
Wringing my hand to alleviate the burning of my knuckles, I go through to the bar to find Gracie working. She’s been a regular here for a few years and eventually took over what Barb struggled to keep up with. Good woman, biker bitch through and through, with a soft spot for both Rage and Jameson.