by Erin Osborne
Instead of staying at the clubhouse to work, I did take care of one problem. My sister, in her anger, told me the man who hurt her, took so much from her and now by extension me, but this, yeah, this beatdown would be for Vicky. I left the clubhouse in search of him. It didn’t take me long to find him at my father’s bar. Promising him more than alcohol, I lured him out back where I proceeded to beat the absolute shit out of him. He’d never forget what he did to my sister or how I beat the fuck out of him. When I was finally done, more from exhaustion setting in than anything else, I left him in a pool of his own blood, vomit, and piss. His friends didn’t even try to help his ass out while I was fucking him up.
With no reason to leave the club, I put my all into it. While I didn’t drink, fuck, or do drugs like my father or the rest of the members, I did work my ass off to gain my full patch. When Victoria left me, I became broken, bitter, just so angry at the world. Most of the time, I hated myself for not following her, or insisting she wait for me to go with her. I was not in a good place and our father took advantage of that.
I was on every single run the club made, at the bar working while getting drunk most nights, and fighting more than I used to. That’s the same time I met Tonya; she came into the bar one night with a group of friends. We were slow as fuck. She captured my attention right away with one look at her glossy, dark blonde hair cascading down to her ass; she had a face so angelic, it was free from makeup and her blue eyes were so clear I swear I could swim in them. She was wearing tight as sin clothes that left nothing to the imagination and I knew immediately she would be mine. In a lot of ways, Tonya saved me from death or more suffering at the hands of my father.
That night we started talking. She broke me out of my shell of only answering in one-word sentences and grunts. I told her I was a prospect with Kings Vengeance MC; she didn’t bat an eyelash or stay away from me in disgust. Tonya didn’t keep talking to me because of the cut I wore on my back either. She was the first woman I’d met who was truly interested in talking to me, just for me, without any ulterior motive. It was a heady feeling, one I wanted to keep.
We spent hours talking that night and she came back in almost every night I was working just to talk to me. To a point, Tonya understood why I didn’t want her coming to the clubhouse. The guys there don’t know what it means to keep their hands off of another man’s woman. Tonya would be no different to them, especially since I was nothing more than a prospect. To them, she’d be fresh meat, a free agent, just what they loved.
I took her out a few times, we also hung out at her place, and once or twice we spent the night at the lake. Those were the nights I loved. Not because I fucked her, but because we were both completely open and honest with one another. It was as if because we were out in the elements and completely naked, we had nowhere to hide from one another. I told her about my mom, Victoria, her mom, and the rape Vicky endured before taking off. Tonya let me cry on her shoulder as I finally grieved the loss of my sister and all the plans we had made together. The only good memories I had in my life, until Tonya, were the ones with Vicky in them.
Tonya was slowly replacing all the bad in my life with good. She’s showed me there are good things in life, reasons to laugh, to smile, a reason to move on with my life and hope Vicky was okay and not becoming some drugged out whore like her own mother. It was the one thing in life my sister absolutely did not want to become. Something I vowed to never let happen because my baby sister was so damn smart. She could go anywhere in life just because of her brains and how much she studied her ass off.
The day I got patched in is a day I’ll never forget. I had to go to the bar and grab more alcohol for the nightly club party. We were low on stock at the clubhouse and no one had called in the order. I made one and gave it to my dad, he just didn’t do anything about it. When I returned to the clubhouse, I saw Tonya’s beat-up car sitting in the parking lot and wondered what the hell she was doing there, my heart immediately started beating a mile a minute. Leaving the alcohol in the truck I had driven; I ran inside where I heard her screaming from down the hallway where the bedrooms were located.
Racing in that direction, I skidded to a stop when I got to Slammer’s room, where I had heard her screaming coming from. His door was left wide open, in the middle of the bed was Tonya, Slammer was on top of her trying to rip her clothes from her body, but Tonya wasn’t making it easy for him, so he backhanded her. Seeing Slammer on top of Tonya must have frozen me momentarily, because that’s when I lost it. I was in the room and grabbing him by his cut before I realized what I was doing. Dragging him away from my girl, I pulled him out to the hallway and proceeded to beat the shit out of him. By the time I was pulled off him, I was breathing heavy, sweat was pouring down my body making my clothes stick to me, and Tonya was screaming and crying for me to stop. It took four men to pull me from his prone body laying almost lifeless beneath me.
My dad looked at me and told me to clean the mess up as they carted Slammer to the infirmary for Doc to look at. His face was covered in so much blood, you could barely recognize him. I had a ton of his blood coating my skin and clothes, too. Grabbing a mop and bucket, I cleaned the mess up, further coating myself in the sticky substance. Tonya was sitting just inside his room, watching me with shock, fear, and pain on her face. I thought for sure she was done with me. By the time I was done cleaning up that fucker’s blood, she wasn’t in shock any longer. Walking her to her car she told me she only showed up because she was pregnant and wanted to tell me. She didn’t want to wait to tell me later on tonight when she was supposed to see me.
I kissed her, wrapped her in my arms, since we both forgot I was covered in blood, and told her how happy I was. Once she was safely in her car, I assured her I’d see her in a few hours so we could celebrate. I couldn’t believe I was going to be a father. My only thought was I’d be a better father than my own ever was. I’d be a man our child could look up to. They would feel the love I felt for them and see how much I loved their mother. Not one day of their life would they see the anger, hatred, regret, or dread I lived with daily. I knew I’d leave that shit at the door.
Instead of keeping my word to Tonya, like I knew I should have, my dad decided to patch me in. He gave me the road name Blood because I was still covered in it. Plus, the beating I gave Slammer was nothing like they’d ever seen happen to one of their own. They threw me a huge party and I didn’t have any choice but to stay, at least that’s what I kept telling myself, even though after a few rounds, no one would have noticed me gone. But, no matter how drunk I got, the sweet butts got nothing from me; Tonya was the only woman for me. My father even demanded I fuck a few of them. He got my middle finger and I told him to fuck off. No one was going to make me betray Tonya…not more than I already was.
That night was the beginning of the end for Tonya and me. She didn’t trust me at the club, didn’t like the man I was when I was there. It’s the first time she’d ever seen that side of me. I thought I’d have more time to spend with her, since I was no longer the club’s bitch; but that wasn’t the case. My father kept me even busier and Tonya felt like I was choosing the club over her. In a way I was.
Chapter One
Blood
Two years later
THINGS WITH THE club have only gotten worse over the last two years. I’m the only member who’s not strung out on drugs constantly. Business and runs are constantly falling apart because no one gives a fuck about that aspect of the club. They only care about getting their next fix. Even though I’m only a patched member, I’m not even an officer, I handle more business than my father does these days. I’m getting really tired of all the bullshit. Of having the responsibility without a title or the respect I should be shown for keeping their asses flowing in money.
Tonya forgave me, she began to understand that I’d spend as much time with her and our son as I possibly could. My woman gave me a son who we named Colt. He’s almost one and a half years old now and so fucking smart. When
I’m home with them, he’s my little shadow. Tonya hates it when I have to go to the clubhouse for any reason. She’s refused to step foot anywhere near there since she was attacked. I don’t blame her because I don’t want either one of them there. My own dad hasn’t even met Colt yet because he’s not as important as fucking and getting high. That’s not anything I want around my family anyway. My family is the reason I don’t get high or stay around the clubhouse much these days.
In fact, I’m barely at the clubhouse. I make the rounds to our businesses which include the bar and the garage since my dad put his former boss out of business, just because he could. Then we have the gun running, dealing, and now my dad has decided to push pussy. The club is a bunch of glorified pimps who only worry about using the women they want to make money off of. Everything about the situation makes me sick as fuck, but I was outvoted because I was the only one to say no. These women are treated like absolute shit, they are beat on a regular basis by members because they don’t give up free pussy for them. It’s not a requirement they have to so they don’t if they can get away with it.
Today is no different. I’ve checked on the girls and noticed most of them have started using. Apparently, my father believes he can combine dealing and pimping them out. The women are skin and bones, have track marks covering their bodies, and can barely move, let alone fuck anyone. Instead of heading home to my family, I go to the clubhouse. I’m done dealing with this shit and I’m leaving the club. I don’t need this fucking place anymore because it’s not a club; it’s a bunch of rapists, addicts, and scumbags.
Pulling into the parking lot, I see all the bikes parked wherever the member left it when they got here. Half of them aren’t even standing up like they should; they’re lying on the gravel of the parking lot. That’s not any way to treat your ride as far as I’m concerned. My baby never touches anything it shouldn’t. It’s not like other clubs I’ve been to over the years where the bikes are all parked neatly in a line according to the member’s rank in the club. Everything here is haphazard and unkempt. Kings Vengeance MC is nothing more than a disgrace to the motorcycle club world. One I don’t want to be a part of anymore. Tonya knows I’m ready to leave the club, we’ve had several talks about it. She completely backs me in my decision to leave this hell hole.
Parking my bike, I make my way inside the clubhouse; it’s disgusting, my boots stick to whatever the hell is on the floor. Garbage litters every available surface, and I’m not just talking about the floor, while members lounge around wherever the fuck they can find, or make themselves, a semi-clean spot. The sweet butts don’t clean or cook like they’re supposed to do to earn their room and board. All they do is get high on whatever is available and or fuck the men. Everyone in this place is a pig, which is fitting because this place is a pig sty, they all need to learn a thing or two from someone who actually gives a fuck about life. They won’t though; their ways are too ingrained in them; they will just continue on this path to death they’ve been travelling for so long now.
Not seeing my dad in the common room, I head to his office. He’s always in there, no matter what he’s doing. The only time he leaves it is to go to church which I have to call and run these days. Not a single one of them have any clue who to contact about runs, when the next one is scheduled, or what the businesses are up to. I basically am the club’s President, Secretary, Road Captain, and Enforcer without having any of the titles.
Storming into my dad’s office, I see his pasty white, wrinkled ass fucking one of the sweet butts. Pulling him off of her, I lead her from the room as my dad rolls to his ass on the couch with his limp dick still out of his pants. Not exactly what I wanted to see in my life, but I’ve seen more than I ever thought I would over the years.
“The fuck is wrong with you?” he bellows out, trying to stand up and come at me.
“I’m tired of your fuckin’ shit. That’s what’s wrong with me,” I yell, getting in his face. “I’m done with this place.. This isn’t a damn club anymore. All you guys are worried about is partyin’ and fuckin’, not makin’ money, doin’ the runs, or anythin’ else to help keep the businesses goin’. I’ve been doin’ it all by myself for such a long ass time, that now, I’m over this shit. Today, I’m here to turn in my cut.”
Sliding the cut from my shoulders, I hold it in my hand and look at the man who created me. He’s staring at me with glassy eyes, a red nose, and his clothes hanging from his bones. There’s barely anything left to him after so many drugs have entered his system and torn him apart from the inside out. He looks back and forth from the cut I’m holding by a fingertip to me several times over. It’s almost as if he doesn’t comprehend what he’s seeing. I’m sure he doesn’t because most things take several minutes to register with him or anyone else in this club after the years of rampant drug use.
“You’re not fuckin’ leavin’ here. The only way that happens is if you end up in a shallow grave out back,” he says, finally putting his dick away. “You’re fuckin’ stayin’ put. That’s all there is to it.”
“No, I’m really fuckin’ not,” I tell him, getting in his face as my anger rises. “There’s no reason for me to stay here and be with you fuckin’ assholes. I’m the only one runnin’ anythin’ around here at the club. As a matter of fact, it’s not a fuckin’ club anymore, it’s just somewhere you get fucked-up and fuck around. You either let me the fuck go, or I’m gonna cancel all the contracts for guns and everythin’ else. You’ve fucked up bad enough they won’t deal with your drugged-out asses anymore. That’s a simple fuckin’ fact and you know it.”
My dad doesn’t say a word because he knows I’m right and I have more power than he does now. We have three contracts, down from seven, for running guns and none of the contacts want any of the patched members anywhere near the deals. Unfortunately, I can’t do the drops and shit myself, so I have to take a few of the prospects with me on the runs. They don’t know anything about them, though. Honestly, I have more faith in the prospects than I do any of the fully patched members because they haven’t been around long enough to be as fucked-up as the rest of the club.
“You want out and that’s not goin’ to work for me,” my dad finally says, as he remains sitting on his couch, running his hands through his thinning, gray, greasy hair. “The condition of you leavin’ here is you have to go on the runs. Since no one will talk to us, you’re in charge of them and have to be here for them. Make it work however the fuck works for you. If not, it’s a shallow grave for you and your family.”
“Don’t fuckin’ even think about my family, you cocksucker. They are nothin’ to you! You choose to be who you are and it’s not someone I want my family to have anythin’ to do with. So, I’ll do the runs, but I choose the ones to go on them with me. I’ll handle the money, make sure everyone worthy gets a cut of the profit. That’s all I’ll do for one year. You hear me, you have one year to get your shit figured out,” I demand, laying out the conditions of me not washing my hands of everything. “In one year, either you’re clean, or you’re out and I’m takin’ over and makin’ this an actual fuckin’ MC. Take it or leave it.”
My dad nods his head, with his agreement I slide the cut back on my body. Turning on my heel, I leave the office, walking straight out of the clubhouse. A few guys try to get me to hang out and talk to them, I simply ignore them while I continue on my way. I’ve got nothing to say to anyone here any longer. I’ll see them once a month and that’s it. See, I’m not dumb, I’ve already been getting ready for this to happen. I’ve been making arrangements for months now, no one had a clue about what I’ve been doing behind their backs. Hell, some could say I’ve committed treason in the eyes of the club because I’ve gone behind their back. I don’t look at it that way considering I’m the only reason they still have businesses bringing in any money. The three contracts we have remaining aren’t exactly held by friends, but with the money they’ll make, they’re willing to play nice with me once a month so I can make this work for us
.
Straddling my bike, I feel a sense of freedom like I’ve never felt before. I feel as if the weight is slowly lifting off my shoulders, that the final barrier between Tonya and me has been blown away. Now, I can finally marry my woman and have her make an honest man out of me. Tonya wouldn’t marry me while I was still active in the daily running of the club, and I can’t blame her. She won’t be happy with this arrangement, but it’s the best I can do where the money is still coming in, yet I won’t have to be associated with the club more than a couple of days a month.
Riding home, I take in the scenery flying by me. There’s nothing like riding my bike without the worry, stress, and thought that this could be my last ride sitting heavily on my shoulders. Today, it’s as if I’m one with the wind and everything out in the elements. I honestly can’t remember the last time I loved riding my bike no matter where my destination ended up being. For years, it’s been a chore without the sense of freedom or love I once had for it. That was when Victoria was still around, she would go for long rides through the countryside with me. Just so we could avoid being at the clubhouse.
Over the last six months, things have been getting progressively worse between Tonya and me. I’m never home because I’ve been chasing after the businesses of the club. She just wants to spend time with me. To have me be there for Colt so he knows I’m actually his father and not just some random man showing up around the house every few days. Or coming home so late he’s already in bed, then leaving before he wakes up.
We spend all our time fighting, then fucking to make up. While I love the fucking part, I loathe fighting with Tonya. She’s feeling so hurt, and abandoned, she harbors so much resentment toward the club. Honestly, I don’t blame her for any of her feelings. This must be how my mother felt when she was forced to do whatever was necessary to take care of me. Or how Victoria felt when she was growing up in the club. How her mother felt when trying to deal with my father. I swore I’d never follow down the same path as him, yet here I am making my woman feel like a piece of shit, ignoring my family and son. I’m done with all this shit. I vow here and now to make a better life for my family; one where I’m present as much as possible with them.