by Lane Hart
But I can’t. Not this time.
So, I give her a brief hug and then push her away. “See ya.” I say the stupid words, even though we both know they’re bullshit.
“See ya, Maddox,” Audrey replies, and then I make myself walk away from her.
…
Audrey
Once I hear the door close behind Maddox, I pick up Stella and cuddle her to my bare chest, then go into the living room to lock the door. When I turn back to the empty apartment, a weight sinks into my gut, a hollow aching that I know well. I put my cat down and go to the bathroom to start the shower, hoping that I’ll be able to get some hot water.
As I sit on the edge of the tub, waiting for the freezing spray to pass, I feel a hot tear trickle down my cheek. I look around before swiping it away, irrationally worried that Maddox might burst back in and see it. I’m not upset about him leaving, and I didn’t think that these last few days were turning into…something!
“Ugh, what the fuck!” I groan as I feel the water. I’m not sure if I’m referring to the fact that the shower is still freezing, or to the jumble of emotions whirling around inside me in a nauseating spin.
Giving up on the shower, I go back to my room to find my pajamas, then spend a few minutes cleaning up the apartment. Maddox and I spent most of the last few days in my room, but I do need to dispose of the wine bottles and cake pan, evidence of the little bit of looting he engaged in during the storm.
I break into a smile as I swipe a finger through the last bit of frosting still clinging to the pan and suck it off of my finger, remembering all the things that Maddox and I did together. Just the memories of him ease the ache in my guts, and I decide then and there that what we had was more than just a “nice time.” I don’t know what it is between the two of us yet, but I’m almost certain it wasn’t one-sided. Now, I just have to figure out this whole “Savage Kings” business between my brother and Maddox, and if there is some way we can navigate it to find an honest future for all of us.
Chapter Seven
Maddox
I’m strolling down the boardwalk collecting garbage in a trash bag, wasting time and thinking about someone I shouldn’t be when my phone starts ringing in my cut pocket.
“Shit,” I mutter to myself.
Tossing the garbage bag down, I pull the phone out and glance at the screen.
Usually I answer as soon as I see War’s name, but after sleeping with his sister for three days, I’ve been trying really hard to avoid him since I got back to Emerald Isle. He thinks the two of us were in Raleigh because I lied to him. He would kill me if he knew that I stayed in bed with his sister during the hurricane after the entire coast was evacuated.
When the phone stops buzzing for a few seconds before it starts up again, I cave and finally hit the green button to take the call.
“Yes, sir?” I answer.
“Where the hell are you?” War snaps. “I thought you were back in town.”
“Ah, yeah, I am back in town.”
“Then get your ass to the clubhouse!” he shouts through the phone line. “You’re holding up our meeting.”
“What?” I ask in confusion.
“Our meeting was supposed to start ten minutes ago, and we’ve been looking for you!”
“A Savage Kings’ meeting?” I ask for clarification.
“No, Mad Dog, our Girl Scout meeting,” he huffs. “We’re counting to see who sold the most cookies.”
“Huh?” I mutter.
“Get your ass to the chapel!” he yells before hanging up.
That’s when I realize War was being sarcastic, making a joke. He never makes a joke. And I very rarely get invited to a Kings meeting.
“Fuck!” I shout as I take off running as fast as my legs can carry me back to the Savage Asylum. Is today finally the day I’m gonna get my patch? If so, I picked the worst fucking day to go wandering off just to avoid facing my sponsor.
I rush into the bar, punch in the code to get to the basement, and hold on to the railing to take the steps three at a time to get to the bottom. Then, it’s just a quick sprint to the open door, where our VP Chase Fury is waiting with a bucket in his hands.
“Phone,” Chase says as soon as my boots skid to a halt in front of him. I lower my eyes from his face after staring at him for a moment. I don’t want him thinking I’m into dudes when I’m just looking for any family resemblance…
I raced over with my burner still in my hand, so I toss it into the plastic container.
“Get inside,” he tells me. “Everyone’s waiting, and we all have shit to do.”
“Right, sorry,” I say, as I enter the room I’ve only been inside a handful of times. I look around at the long wooden table where all the brothers are waiting with their angry gazes on me, especially War. And I’m a little disappointed that there’s still only one empty seat, which belongs to Ian, their brother in prison, not me.
“Sorry,” I say to everyone again.
Damn. Does this mean I’m not getting my patch? Wait, did War find out about me and Audrey, and tell the MC? Am I here for some type of punishment?
“Find a spot against the wall so we can get started,” Torin, our president and my unknowing cousin, says to me as Chase comes into the room and shuts the door, leaving the phone bucket outside. The guys take their privacy seriously.
“Yes, sir,” I agree, going over to the wall on the far side of the table to prop myself up out of the way, anxious to find out what’s going on.
“We’re gonna sandwich in the bad news between the good,” Torin starts, then a smile splits his face. “So, first of all, thank you all for asking about Lexi and my new daughter, Kensi. They’re both home and doing great. It was Lexi’s idea to give her part of Kennedy’s name and her own…”
“Glad to hear it,” Coop says, as all the guys cheer and slap their palms on the table.
“Congrats, boss, that’s great news,” Reece tells him.
“Thank you, brothers,” Torin says with a nod. “And let’s also congratulate War on his win in court yesterday.”
“Congrats, man,” Chase says, offering him a fist bump across the table, and the other guys follow suit.
“All right,” Torin says. “Now, before War gives us the bad news, I want to ask everyone to stay calm.”
Muttered curses can be heard around the table at that dismal warning.
“War?” Torin says. “Tell them what you know.”
“Yeah,” War agrees with a nod. “I hate to be the one to break this news to you, but I’ve just learned that the feds have launched an investigation into the Kings.”
Oh shit.
“What the fuck?” someone shouts, most likely Chase, immediately followed by more curses.
War holds up his palms for silence before he goes on to say, “I don’t know much more than that, but I don’t need to tell you all that this is some serious shit. We don’t have details of what they’re looking for or plan to accuse any of us of, but everyone needs to keep their noses spotless over the next few months. Be extremely careful about what you say and where you say it. Burner phones are a must for all club business. If you’re a felon, don’t even think of carrying a weapon other than your knife. Hell, you all need to even do the speed limit. Let’s not give them a single excuse to take one of us in.”
Torin jumps in, “Does anyone need a business card for the club’s criminal attorney? I have a few extra, if so. Keep it on you in your wallet at all times. And if you get cornered or taken in, remember the cardinal rule, don’t say a fucking word about anything to anyone. You ask for our lawyer, and that’s it.”
Everyone mutters their grumbled agreement.
“We’ll let you know more as soon as we find out,” War tells the brothers. “Reece will be working his magic, hopefully coming up with more info.”
“I’ll do my best, brother,” Reece agrees with a tilt of his chin.
“Now, on to better news,” Torin begins. “It looks like we may be lo
sing our prospect soon…”
Everyone’s head turns to look at me.
“Maddox, you’ve served long and hard for the MC, and we’ll be taking a membership vote soon if you’re still interested in joining,” Torin declares.
“Really?” I ask. “Of course I want to join.”
“Even with the federal shit hanging over our heads?” War asks.
“Fuck the feds,” I say without hesitation, receiving a chorus of cheers for it.
“But if we lose our prospect, who’s gonna wash our bikes and do all our grunt work for us?” Dalton asks with a smirk.
I flip him off with a grin of my own.
“That’s why we need Maddox to work with Reece to find us a suitable replacement prospect or two. There’s a list of hang-arounds for you to go through and choose from,” Torin informs us. “I want them thoroughly, and I mean, thoroughly vetted, Reece. I want to know everything about them, including every thought in their naïve little heads.”
“You got it, boss,” Reece agrees. “That polygraph machine is gonna come in real handy.”
“Damn right,” Torin says before he looks to me. “And Maddox, we want you on training duty. You won’t be sponsoring these boys, but you will be in charge of overseeing our new recruits for the first few months. That will be your only job from now until the end of the year,” Torin tells me. “I want you to haze them twice as hard as we hazed you, you hear me? See how much they can take and then give them some more. When they leave here, I want you up their asses, seeing where they go and who they know. You snoop through their phones, you listen to their calls, you pat them down head to toe for wires before they step foot in this clubhouse. Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” I reply.
“Once we have our new prospects, we’ll see about finding another chair for this table,” Torin declares.
Thank fuck.
As soon as Torin slams his gavel down, adjourning our meeting, everyone gets up and starts filing out. Everyone except for War, who comes toward me.
“I know it’s taken longer than you wanted to get here,” he says while I try to force the eye contact, even though I feel awful for keeping such a huge secret from him. “But it’s been chaos around here lately, so the guys are a little more cautious about who they trust. You should be too when it comes to the new prospects.”
“Right, of course,” I agree. “I’ll make sure to do that.”
“Good, that’s good to hear,” he says. “I have some…things to take care of over the next few days, but let’s catch up over the weekend. There’s something I want to discuss with you.”
Gulp.
“Okay, sure,” I agree.
With a slap to my shoulder, he says, “See you then.”
Chapter Eight
Maddox
Reece gave me the contact information for five potential new prospects who had been hanging around the Kings clubhouse the last few weeks, or even months. I knew just what I wanted to do to put them through their paces and see exactly what they were made of, and I let them all know to meet me at our strip club, Avalon, on Friday night for their “initiation.”
I had seen a couple of them ride by me toward the parking lot in the back of the club as I stood out front, but the new recruits waited until all five had gathered before coming around the building to face me. As they approached me by the door, all five of them cast repeated glances at the line of women standing behind a velvet rope, waiting to be admitted to the club.
“Do any of you gentlemen know why I asked you here tonight?” I ask them as they form a line in front of me.
They all glance at each other before casting their eyes down to their boots. One of them, a guy named Carl, sheepishly says, “No, sir.”
“Do you want to hazard a guess?”
After a moment of silence, Mike, a young guy who only recently started hanging around the club asks hopefully, “You want us to work security, see how we handle ourselves?”
I snort a laugh at that. “You saw the clientele waiting to get in tonight. Do you think those rowdy ladies are going to need a firm hand to keep them under control?” Some of the women in line hear my comment and respond with catcalls and whistles at the young men standing with me.
“They’re all women,” the ginger, not the smartest of our potential recruits, observes. “Are there a bunch of lesbians in town?”
The ladies who overhear that question burst into laughter and sporadic boos, before I reply, “I’m not aware of any unusual amounts of lesbians in town this evening. Dumbass. No, Mike was partially right. Tonight, we’re going to see how you handle yourselves. It’s ladies’ night here at Avalon, and you boys are going to be part of the show. Now, get your asses backstage and work with the performers to find some outfits. Don’t worry if you don’t like what you end up wearing, you won’t have it on for long.”
All five of them glance at each other and shuffle their feet as the women in line cheer. “Move your bitch asses!” I roar at the men, then step aside as they hustle into the building. “We’ll see you inside, ladies, in just a few moments. Make sure to take good care of my young recruits!” I call to them as I follow along.
Once I’m inside, I almost run into the back of Pete, a skinny young man who had been coming into the clubhouse since he was old enough to drink. “I told you to move your ass, Pete,” I growl at him.
“Dude, Maddox, I’m not sure about this…” he starts to protest.
“Then you’re not sure you want to be a fucking King!” I yell. “You have to be willing to do anything to be a brother in this club, and if that means waving your anorexic cock in a lady’s face, you rub it till it’s chubby and you shake that fucking thing like it’s your royal goddamn scepter! You understand me?”
Pete jerks straight up and damn near salutes me as he rushes to follow the rest of the boys to the back where the changing rooms are located. I can’t help grinning as I head to the bar, waving over the muscled and oiled boy toy in a bow tie tending the drinks tonight.
“What can I get you, sir?” he asks me politely.
“Pour me a Jack and Coke,” I reply, as I take a seat and watch the women begin filing into the tables scattered all around the stage.
“I love the way you handled that boy.” The bartender grins after he pours the drink for me and slides it to me. “My crew loves coming to work your club, you always bring us the cutest little recruits. They didn’t make you dance with us, did they? I’m sure I would remember you.”
I’m not taken aback at all by the man hitting on me, I just laugh and reply, “You’re right, I missed this experience when I was coming up in the club. I would have gladly done this compared to some of the other jobs they gave me.”
“Really?” he drawls. “Most of those boys are so embarrassed when they get out here, they whine and moan like it’s going to be the death of them. What other stuff did they make you do while you were trying out for the club that was so awful?”
“Prospecting,” I correct him automatically, “although tryouts is a good way of looking at it. I had to do all sorts of stuff, but the absolute worst was when I had to clean out the septic tank at the clubhouse. I had to do it with a shovel. Don’t think about that too hard,” I caution him. “No matter how bad you’re imagining, the reality was worse. So, so much worse.”
“Uh-uh, baby, no way.” The bartender waves me off. “You boys are crazy with that ‘do anything for the club’ business. Ain’t nobody going to catch me shoveling poop.”
“It was worth it,” I tell him as I raise my glass in a toast. The bartender is already moving away to take more orders as the seats around me quickly fill with women eagerly awaiting the show.
I’ve never been to a “male review” before and I have to admit the experience is eye-opening, even for me. I’ve been around the girls at the clubhouse when they were partying and feeling frisky, but these ladies tonight are cutting loose and going absolutely wild. I cheer right along with them as my recruits take the s
tage, mingled between the real performers. I even make my way up to the stage to make it rain a few times when my boys clumsily attempt to mimic some of the professional maneuvers. By the end of the night, they even seem to be enjoying themselves. Well, all except for Pete who, it turns out, I was being generous too when I called his dick anorexic. That poor boy’s unit is so turtled up when he gets down to his G-string that the women in the club yell for us to turn the heat up to see if we can coax the little guy out. They end up chasing him from the stage practically in tears, and I can’t help but add my laughter to theirs.
I’m having a great time when a pretty young redhead, her pale cheeks flushed with alcohol, elbows her way to the bar right by my stool. Instead of trying to order a drink, though, she lays a hand on my knee and forces my leg to the side, then wedges herself close to me. She’s so close, I can count the freckles on the upper slopes of her breasts, and smell the vodka she’s been drinking when she breathlessly says, “How much for a dance with you, baby?”
“I’m not working tonight, honey,” I reply politely, my good humor evaporating as a hard knot of guilt suddenly grips my stomach. “I’m just here to help make sure some of the younger talent doesn’t try to run away tonight. There are plenty of other boys who will play with you,” I assure her as I gently turn my stool and extract myself from her.
“Bah, you’re no fun,” she pouts before waving imperiously to summon the bartender. “You can always tell when one’s taken, I should have spotted it right off.”
“I’m not taken—” I start to protest, but quickly stifle myself. The guilt that is churning inside me begs to differ, and I realize…I miss Audrey. Desperately so, in a way I’ve never felt about anyone. I pick up my drink and finish it off in one swallow, then shake the glass as the bartender comes over to the redhead, signaling for a refill. I know I can’t feel this way about War’s sister, but I have to glumly admit as I pick up my fresh drink, that she’s taken root inside of me and being apart these last few days has only made this feeling, whatever it is, grow and swell inside of me.