by E. C. Land
The alarm goes off again, and I know this time I have to get up. Otherwise, I’ll be late, and that won’t do. I work seven days a week, only closing early on Sundays in order to go get things I need to restock for the following week. This is a must-do, considering I go through a lot of stock each week, I have to replenish weekly. The good thing is the coffee shop is becoming even more of a hit, and I can afford to get more items to make sure I don’t run out. Best part, I get to spoil myself with takeout on Sundays.
With working so much, I don’t go out and party, nor do I go anywhere to eat. If anything, it’s to the grocery store then home. I buy myself the bare minimum of what I need to survive. I guess you can say I live and breathe my store, but oh well, it’s who I am these days.
Growing up in a rundown home with a family who kept sucking me dry tends to teach you to survive with as little as possible.
When I moved to get my fresh start, I did this to get away from all of them. My mom and dad are drug addicts, preferring to get their fix rather than taking care of their kids. I have two brothers and three sisters. Out of all of them, I swear I’m the only one who decided to never join the bandwagon of booze and drugs.
My two brothers, let’s just say it’s not been good. Adam, my oldest brother, is in jail right now due to his stupidity. He’d been busted for stealing a car. My other brother, Aidan, is a part of one of the local gangs, and I don’t see good things in his future. He’ll either end up dead or right next to my brother, Adam.
Andrea, Aubrey, and Alexandra, well, they simply can’t keep their legs closed. They think this is how they need to get through life. Andrea, by the time she turned eighteen, already had a kid and was pregnant with the second one; now she’s on baby number four. She at least is with the same man even if that man is five years older and a deadbeat. Aubrey decided she’d get into the porn business, but not any kind of porn business. No, this one is shady, as you know what. She does this for her pimp slash boyfriend. How that works is ridiculous if you ask me. Then there’s Alexandra, she so high all the time she doesn’t know what she’s doing half the time. I’m surprised she hasn’t killed herself by overdosing.
I thank my lucky stars, I didn’t end up like any of them. But until I finally got the nerve to leave, they always came to me for money. To them, they saw me as nothing but a wallet. I knew if I wanted to finally do something for myself, I had to run.
Which is exactly what I did without telling them a thing. I up and left in the middle of the night, got in my car, and high-tailed it out of there as quickly as I could. At twenty-five, I couldn’t do it anymore. Not after the car that Adam stole, was my boyfriend’s at the time. And then Aidan, along with his gang, jumped another guy who simply asked me out on a date. Oh, let me not forget the fact, my sisters. Aubrey offered to suck one guy off, and Alexandra pocketed another’s wallet.
Any time they thought I would find happiness, or I started seeing someone, they’d take it upon themselves to do something to make them dump me. Andrea would sneer down her nose at me, stating I thought I was too good for our family while the others laughed.
This is only one of the reasons I left when I did. I didn’t want them to be able to mooch off of me anymore. Nor did I want them to do what I’d heard them talking about. I won’t be used in such a way. No way. Not happening.
Shaking my head, I climb out of bed and head to the shower. I need to get cleaned up, dressed, and out the door within the next twenty minutes to drive over to the coffee shop. Two months after I opened Rise-N-Shine Coffee, I found a cute little house for rent and was able to move out of my office and into my little two-bedroom cottage-style home. I absolutely love it. My neighbors keep to themselves, which is a great thing. This means I get to stick to myself as well. Though my one neighbor across the street who is rarely home but when he is, we all know it—the reason being the thundering roar of his motorcycle when he pulls into his driveway.
I would go over there and say something to him about him constantly revving his motorcycle when he pulls into his driveway or when he’s leaving again; I’m not wanting to draw his attention. Tall and broad-shouldered, he seems to be my age, but I’m not sure. I don’t get close enough to him. I do know he wears the same vest type thing as the men who come into my coffee shop.
My alarm goes off again while I’m in the shower, and I finish up quickly, knowing I won’t have time to blow dry my hair. Sighing, I turn the shower off, grab my towel and dry off. I rush into my room, turn my alarm off, and get dressed. Bra and panties in place, I grab a pair of my super fade jeans with holes in the knees. I refuse to get rid of these because even if I’m not trying to attract anyone’s attention, I do love the way the material fits me. Buttoning the jeans, I snag my Sublime shirt. I don’t worry about anything else but running a brush through my hair, putting it up in a messy bun, and then slip my feet into my shoes.
Before leaving the room, I unplug my phone from its charger on my nightstand and head for the door. By the front door, I reach up and pull my purse and keys off their hooks and unlock the front door with my key. You can never be too safe, so I’d changed out the deadbolt with a key lock rather than having the sliding deadbolt. This way, I felt safer at night when I’m asleep.
I make sure to lock the house back up and turn to head for my car. I climb in and start her up. It takes a couple cranks, but she starts, thankfully. I just need my car to bear with me another month or two, and I’ll get her to the shop to be fixed.
Backing out of the drive, I put her in gear and head in the direction of my shop. Time’s ticking, and I’ve got to get it together. I might be exhausted, but I pride myself on owning my own business. And it’s worth the lack of sleep. Maybe one day, I’ll take the time to have a life, but it won’t be today. Or tomorrow.
Chapter Two
Hammer
Pulling up in front of the clubhouse, I sigh in relief. It’s been a long fuckin’ two weeks. After the bullshit that went down with Venom and his ol’ lady up at Stoney’s charter, I wasn’t thrilled to find out the club has yet another problem. We might have been informed about the Supreme Masters, but my club didn’t know all the information they’d found. Evidently, what they found was all thanks to Amaya coming to them. On top of all that, we had to deal with even more drama. The chick who everyone thought to be the ol’ lady to Fuse, a member of the Inferno’s Clutch MC, isn’t who they thought.
From the information Amaya, Venom’s ol’ lady, found out about Simone, she is the twin of Lyrica. But the drama of it all gives me a headache. This is why I don’t deal with women. I swore it a long time ago, and I’ve kept to it. And I intend to keep on keeping on with the way I do things. The only woman in my life is my niece. I’m fuckin’ thrilled to have found her. More or less, she was put in the same place as her brother when the fuckers took him few years ago. I would have brought her with me down to South Carolina, but she needed to stay near her brother. In the end, it worked out for her.
Tilting my head to the side, stretching my neck, my gaze lands on Axe, my brother, and Sergeant at Arms as he helps Simone out of the truck he’d rented in order to get his bike and the woman back here. I hadn’t wanted to bring the woman back here, but Axe being the man he is and dealt with what he has, couldn’t help himself. He’d seen this as a chance to help a woman in dire need. A woman I might point out who isn’t all there anymore. Due to the fucked-up drugs the Supreme Masters dosed her with, she’s got to be sedated at all times. The doc who’d been helping her did say that she could go without the heavy sedation long as she’s having a good day, but I don’t need this shit. Nor do I want it. Upon hearing her state her name and prattle on about her sister dying in a car accident. I didn’t want to hear anymore.
To me, it’s not my problem.
So why the fuck did I agree to this, to let this woman come to my clubhouse?
Right, because of my brother. Several years ago, he’d lost a woman who he’d wanted to make his ol’ lady. Fucked up shit what happene
d to her. And what he walked in on. It’s why he’s determined to help Simone. Seeing her like this is killing him. Fuck he’d even been there for this woman while she gave birth to a baby a few days ago. I know he’s not wanting this woman as his own. No, this is all about redemption and fixing the wrongs he didn’t get to with the chick he’d wanted in the first place.
Swinging my leg over my bike, I stand to my feet and pull a pack of smokes out of my pocket. I don’t smoke much; normally, it’s right after a long ride or dealing with anything that stresses me out.
What I need to do is go inside, find Bunny or Cheeks and get one of them to either suck me off or ride my cock. At the moment, those are my two go-to clubwhores for when I need to get off. When I decide I’m done with them, I’ll move on to the next. If I even think one of those bitches is thinking of getting closer to my cock, I cut them loose.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out to see who it is. With just getting back to the clubhouse, not only do I need to get off, but I also need to get some shit done around here before getting some fuckin’ sleep.
Glancing at the screen, I grin at the sight of Gunner’s name. He’d gone up to Virginia with us, but I’d sent him back earlier to deal with some issues going on at Tip-Top and a few of our other businesses. Savage has called to inform us of some random shit happening around not only our strip club but our bar and restaurant. This didn’t make me happy. It’s why Gunner was sic’ed on the task along with Cy.
“Thought your ass would be here at the clubhouse right about now, brother,” I say, putting the phone to my ear.
“Fucked up shit, Prez, need you and Malice to meet away from the clubhouse,” Gunner grunts causing me to stiffen.
“Where?” I demand, my tone completely changing to one of all business.
“Rise-N-Shine Coffee,” he mutters and hangs up.
Why the fuck would he choose a fuckin’ coffee shop?
Then again, I’ve heard a few of my brothers talking about the coffee and shit they get from there. I just ain’t ever gone in. I figure I can get my coffee here at the clubhouse without having to go anywhere for it.
Pulling the phone from my ear, I put my fingers to my lips and whistle to catch Malice’s attention before he gets to the doors. He’d been helping Axe with Simone getting her into the clubhouse.
Malice turns to look at me as I swing my leg back over my bike, straddling my beauty. This is one of the four bikes I have and also my favorite. Malice doesn’t waste time following suit. He runs over to his bike and throws his leg over.
“What’s going on?” he mutters maliciously.
Swear anyone who could be said to be just as cold-blooded as I am; it’s my VP. I couldn’t ask for a better VP than him. He’s not one for letting shit fly, just as I don’t allow it to happen.
“Gotta go meet Gunner and Cy at that coffee shop in town,” I grumble.
Nodding, Malice doesn’t wait around to ask more questions. Instead, he puts his helmet on and starts his bike. I do the same and back out of my spot. My VP does the same following suit.
Hitting the throttle, I head into town. Our clubhouse is only about ten minutes away from where we needed to get to, but it’s also still secluded away, so we don’t have to worry about someone fuckin’ messing with us. We party hard and have hang arounds and strange pussy always coming on the weekends. We tend to keep the rest out throughout the week. Too much shit goes on Monday through Thursday. We don’t need outsiders within our walls. My brothers know this, and if they want different pussy than the clubwhores they can get it away from the clubhouse.
Pulling up in front of the tattoo shop we own, I park next to Gunner’s and Cy’s bikes. Not seeing them anywhere insight, I kill the engine on my bike and put the kickstand down. I swing my leg over and stand while removing my helmet. I put the helmet on the seat of my bike and head for the coffee shop situated two doors down from the tattoo shop.
Malice walks next to me; neither of us speaks a word as we head for the entrance to this place. Why the fuck they would choose to meet here is fucked. We could have easily met up at one of our houses or even at the tattoo shop, for fuck’s sake.
Opening the door, I step into the shop with Malice right on my heels. Without takin’ my sunglasses off, I scan the room finding Gunner and Cy both sitting at a table off to the side of the place. Both men having Styrofoam cups in their hands and eating something.
Storming over to them, I don’t pay attention to anything else in the room.
“Wanna tell me why we’re meeting here?” I demand, standing next to their table with my arms crossed.
“Prez, VP,” Gunner grumbles in greeting, nodding to the seats on either side of him and Cy.
Removing my sunglasses, I put them on top of my head and take a seat. Malice rounds the table and sits in the one opposite of me.
“Now tell me what the fuck is going on,” I snap, frustrated by everything going on. All I wanted to do is get back to the clubhouse, find a bitch to either suck me off or to fuck, get some work done, and crash.
“Seems we have someone in the club we can’t trust. It’s why we’re here rather than at one of our businesses,” Gunner says without hesitation.
“Explain,” I command, my body tense with fury.
Gunner looks to Cy and then brings his attention back to me. “Problems you sent me back to handle, Prez, is we’ve found out there’s a new gang in town trying to fuck with us. And to top it off, we’ve got a rat in the clubhouse.”
“Who?” Malice snarls, his lip curling in disgust.
“Don’t know yet. Cy’s been working on it, and the two of us have found bugs planted in all of our businesses,” Gunner mutters with a shake of his head.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“This is not something we need right now. It’s bad enough we’ve got the shit going on at the national charter with Stoney’s men and brought home a bitch who ain’t ever gonna be right again. Now we’ve some traitor in our midst, and we don’t know who. At least tell me do we know who this new gang is?” I don’t need this shit right now.
“No clue yet. Have Brass, Savage, Dagger, and Carbine watching at the bars and strip club,” Gunner says, informing me.
“Right, who do we know we can trust?” I demand, trying to contain my rage brewing inside me. I pride myself on keeping shit locked down tight, but the only emotion that seems to slip through at times is anger. This only happens when things start to get completely out of control.
“Looks like all the brothers can be trusted. But the prospects, clubwhores, hang arounds, and strange pussy are all up in the air,” Cy states with a gravelly voice. He doesn’t talk much due to the murmur that causes him to stutter; this makes his voice thicker than normal when he does talk.
Shit.
“Alright, we need to meet with the brothers. Find a place we can do that that’s secure, and we’ll go from there,” I mutter.
“Need to have the whole clubhouse swept for bugs and the businesses,” Malice grunts.
“Yeah. We’ll get started on this tomorrow. For now, I’m heading home. Fuck going to the clubhouse tonight. I’ll deal with shit in the morning,” I growl and slam a fist on the table as I get up. I need sleep before in order to think about this shit to figure out what to do next.
Turning from the table, I start to take three steps and plow right into some woman, knocking her right on her ass. I glance down at the woman to find her staring up at me with vibrant eyes that are filled with fear.
Motherfucker.
Can this day get any worse?
Chapter Three
Avery
I’d seen him when he came in. My heart fluttered in my chest, and the blood in my veins stilled.
The first thought to pop into my head being, holy shit, this guy has to be the sexiest man I’ve ever laid eyes on. And that’s saying something considering the bikers who have been in here.
About thirty minutes before Mr. Hottie stepped into my coffee shop, I no
ticed my neighbor who lived across the street from me come in with another guy. They’d ordered coffee and had sat at one of the few tables I had situated off to the side.
Most people, when they come in it’s get coffee and dash out of here. But I do have a few who want to sit at a table and drink their coffees. So, I’d invested in getting eight tables and chair sets. Three of them are square with a four-chair set up, while the other five are smaller and meant for two chairs.
My neighbor and his friend sat at a four-chair one, and then Mr. Hottie strolled into the place like he owned it with another hot guy behind him. His sunglasses in place and his jaw set firm like this is the last place he wanted to be.
I didn’t mean to bump into him. I’d been wiping a set of tables after clearing them when it happened. I wasn’t paying attention, and I should have.
Damnit.
I bumped into him right when he stood to leave. Well, not really bumped, more like I crashed into him due to not paying attention to where I was walking. My brain, I guess you could say, isn’t functioning to its capable abilities, and I screwed up.
Why does this have to happen to me?
Staring up at the man, my eyes widen at just how tall he is. Maybe it’s due to when I crashed into him, I fell backward, landing on my ass. So, from this angle, he’s like a giant. Standing directly in front of me, glaring down to where I’d fallen, is a man whose looks make me forget how to breathe. Jeans hang low on his waist with a chain looped on the side. The white t-shirt he’s wearing fits him perfectly the way it molds to his biceps and his wide chest.
Holy smokes, this guy looks like a Viking with his piercing dark eyes. Doesn’t matter if he’s glaring down at me.
“Shit. Avery, you good?” my neighbor asks, coming to stand next to Mr. Hottie, who hadn’t said anything. I didn’t even know my neighbor knew my name.