“Probably,” I said, slapping him on the shoulder. “You’re a little shit though, so you’d probably deserve it,” I said, trying to lighten the dark mood.
Jesse smirked and slid off his chair as Casa came into the clubhouse. “Can’t deny that,” he joked.
“Motherfuckers and bitches!” Casa yelled loudly, his arms spread wide and an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips. He reached up and plucked it out. “I have arrived. You can all stay in your seats, no need to stand up for me, though if any of you hermosas damas want to get on your knees, I’ll be happy to oblige those pretty mouths of yours.”
“This fucker,” I grumbled, jutting my thumb in Casa’s direction.
Jesse laughed and dragged Casa into a brotherly hug as he came over. “You high, fuckface?”
“Nah, just happy. Happy is the new high, don’t you know?” Casa lit his cigarette, his eyes roving over the room and falling on one of the club bitches. “She’s new.”
“Happy is the new high? What kind of bullshit is that?” Gauge asked, looking horrified at the thought. Casa threw an arm around Gauge’s shoulders.
“Brother, the things I could teach you. I’m like Aladdin and you’re—”
“Princess Jasmine?” Jesse laughed loudly.
Casa and Jesse howled with laughter, getting the attention of some of the other brothers.
“I can show you the world!” they both sang in unison before laughing again.
Gauge glared between the two of them before looking at me. “Did he just call me a princess?”
It was hard not to smirk at that. “I’m more concerned with how they know the fuckin’ lyrics to that song.”
Gauge shrugged out from under Casa’s arm. “I’m real fuckin’ pretty, I know, but you touch me again and you’ll be sorry.”
“Sorry, princess,” Casa replied with a wink. “I’ve got shit to do anyway.” He saluted Gauge and strode toward the club bitch he’d been eye-fucking.
“I swear to God it was the worst thing we ever did, patching that kid in,” Gauge grumbled.
Jesse laughed. “You don’t mean that.”
Gauge shook his head. “No, I don’t. Asshole’s too good at what he does for me to regret, but he’s a cocky little fucker that gets on my nerves.”
I shook my head at him. “Everyone gets on your nerves, brother.” I stubbed out my joint before turning away and heading out of the clubhouse. I had shit to do, and a woman to stalk.
~ 2 ~
Fighter
I lit a cigarette, the smoke trailing up in front of my eyes as I leaned back in the hard bar seat. One arm was thrown over the back of the booth while the other plucked the cigarette from between my lips.
I was sitting in the Coyote bar watching Penny Benite dance with one of her girlfriends. She loved to dance. Girl knew how to as well. Her hips swung from side to side in time with the beat and her hands trailed through her long hair, dropping it over one bare shoulder. Every set of male eyes in the bar was on her, and I couldn’t help but feel sorry for the other women in the place.
Her friend checked her watch and then leaned in, whispering something in Penny’s ear, and she nodded before they both broke out into laughter. Her friend was more my type, despite Penny being a fox. Her friend was short and blond, blue eyes, big tits, and a little waist that I could probably wrap my large hand around. Mostly she looked like she’d be a perfect yes-sir-type woman. But best of all, despite the confidence she exuded when she was around Penny, every time she left to go get them drinks from the bar or headed off to the bathroom alone, her confidence waned. Now that was the type of woman I liked. She would be easy to bend to my whim, to construct into what I needed and wanted, and she’d be begging for more afterwards too. I liked my women like I liked my beer—around when I wanted them and easy to discard when I’d had enough.
The two women stopped dancing and headed over to their booth, their bodies glistening with a light sheen of sweat that I wanted to lick off. Penny’s gaze roved the bar, her amber eyes taking in every person around her like she was hunting. I would have believed it too, if it weren’t for the fact that her sharp eyes had already missed me several times.
What kind of hunter misses being hunted?
Her friend was saying something to her, but Penny’s gaze was elsewhere, her thoughts clearly on something else. Probably wondering when she’d be leaving. Because that was how it worked for her. She’d go out for a few hours and then leave abruptly once her daddy called. Man didn’t like his daughter being out too late. He also didn’t like her hanging around with anyone that wasn’t some way connected to the club.
As if on cue, Penny reached into her little black purse and pulled out her cell, rapidly hitting the digits before dropping it back in and nodding at her friend. I picked up my beer and downed the rest of it as the two women headed through the bar toward the exit. Despite it only being a little after ten, it looked like playtime was over for the night.
Outside I mingled with the crowd of people so as not to be seen, watching from the sidelines as a Harley pulled up to the sidewalk. I didn’t recognize the man on it, but he had the telltale marks of Razuuk, the Vipers’ president, down his face: two large gashes going from the top of his scalp to the bottom of his chin. Looked like claw marks. From the digging I’d done on the Vipers’ club, it seemed that Razuuk liked to do that to any man who looked at his daughter the wrong way.
Penny hugged her friend and they chatted for a moment or two before she climbed on the back of the bike and sped away, leaving her friend behind, looking disgruntled as shit at being left on her own. Again.
That was my cue.
I stalked toward her and the crowd automatically moved out of my way.
“Need a light?” I asked, enjoying the fear that flitted through her eyes as she turned around and looked up at me.
She had her hand wrapped around a pack of Marlboros and she nodded quickly and tapped one out, her hands shaking. I pinned her with my cold, hard gaze, holding her hostage as I let a smile crawl up my face. I held out my hand, flicking the lighter, and she leaned down, pressing the tip of her cigarette to the flame, and inhaled before standing back up.
“Thanks.” She flicked her tongue out over her lips, her nervousness and fear giving way to her desire.
I wasn’t wearing my cut that night; instead I was going incognito in a black tight-fitting T-shirt, baggy jeans, and my black boots, but I knew I didn’t look like a good guy. In most people’s eyes, I was the guy from the wrong side of the tracks. The one that would fuck you and leave you high and dry. The one that would steal from your grandma with no fucks to give.
Women were always going on about how they wanted a nice guy to settle down with, but what they didn’t say was that was that wanted to be fucked by the bad guy first. They wanted a taste of the deviant and the wild. They wanted a man like me lapping at their pussies and defiling them before they settled down for the good and wholesome life.
Those memories had to last them a lifetime, and I always made sure they would.
“What’s your name?” I asked, not really giving two shits what her name was, but I needed to get Penny in the bag soon—and if I didn’t get her on her own, that was never going to happen. At least not without spilling blood, which would blow my cover.
This bitch was my only way in.
“Violet.” She smiled as she said her name, like it was a fucking prize to hear her say it, when really it was a name I forgot the moment she said it, attached to the face of a woman I’d forget as soon as I had what I needed.
I reached out, wrapping a hand around her bicep and pulling her gently to me. She crashed into my hard chest, a gasp escaping her pink-painted lips, and I reached round and threaded my hand through her hair.
“That’s a real pretty name,” I growled as I tipped her face up to me.
Her pupils dilated, her cigarette dropping to the ground at our feet. “Thanks,” she mumbled.
This was too easy.
> She was too easy.
It was going to be a long fucking night.
“Feel like grabbing a quick drink?” I asked, leaning in to kiss her neck, my tongue sliding up her throat. Her body trembled, her hands gripping me harder and her nails digging into my skin. “Or you wanna get out of here?”
I placed a kiss on her mouth, hard, demanding, fucking owning her with it. She grunted something and I chuckled.
“Out of here it is.”
I took her hand and pulled her toward my bike. It wasn’t my Harley Street Glide, but something less conspicuous. And this bitch knew nothing about bikes, so it didn’t mean shit to her. All she cared about was the pulsing between her thighs as she climbed on behind me and slid on the helmet I handed to her. Her arms wrapped around my middle, holding on to me tightly as I started the engine and pulled away from the bar.
Clearly no one had ever warned her about staying away from the boogeyman, because this girl was far too eager to be fucked by a goddamn stranger. And I was the biggest boogeyman she was ever going to meet. Because I didn’t just wait under your bed for you to fall asleep. I was a walking, talking nightmare that would haunt your waking self as well.
Her grip tightened and I felt my top lip rise in disgust for her. I’d already decided that my dick wasn’t going anywhere near this skank. I wasn’t that desperate. Sure, I liked a woman I could bend to my whim, but this bitch had no pride. And what’s pussy if it had no pride?
Boring, that was what.
And I had no time in my life for boring.
A little alcohol and my brand of convincing would soon have her opening up like a flower and spilling her friends’ secrets to me, I had no doubt. One way or another, this woman would tell me everything that I needed to know about Penny and how to get her on her own.
*
“You got that shit handled yet?” Gauge asked.
“Soon,” I replied before taking a mouthful of beer.
“How soon?”
I turned to face him. “Tonight soon.”
He nodded, his expression dark. “I’ll let Hardy know.”
I turned back to my beer and took another mouthful. It tasted like flat piss. “Barrel needs changing,” I grunted before sliding off my stool and stepping away from the bar. The truth was, I wanted away from Gauge and Hardy and all their shady shit.
The fact that my prez and sergeant at arms still hadn’t filled Rider, our VP, in on their little plan was unsettling. Rider was clever. Really fucking clever. That was why he was VP, after all, and I couldn’t think of a single reason as to why Hardy wouldn’t heed any advice given to him by Rider. The only thing I could guess was that Hardy and Gauge knew Rider would try and talk them both out of this bullshit plan.
Which meant he wouldn’t like it, and if he didn’t like it, it was probably a really fucking bad idea. I imagined it must be like poking a wasp’s nest with a short stick.
Not a lot made me feel dirty in this life, but this sure as hell did.
I climbed down the wooden steps to the basement to change out the barrel. The clubhouse was quiet that day, with only one or two men hanging around. All of our legal businesses were busy and the money was rolling in; cars and bikes were filling up the small space of the garage and Jesse, Pipes, and Axle had been working on the backlog of vehicles since Skinny was out of commission at the moment. They’d talked about expanding, but Hardy was against the idea. Casa and Cutter were at the Pit and had barely made an appearance in the clubhouse all week, thanks to some new girls they’d taken on. The other strip joint in town—the Star & Garter—had been closed down by the sheriff for some shady shit, meaning the Highwaymen now owned the only strip club, and business was booming. And Butch, Dom, and Dexter were working down in construction for a new office or some shit that was needed for the mayor. Ironic that the mayor was hiring our MC to do the work for him because we were the cheapest and the best. Guess it just showed how corrupt shit really was in this town.
Regardless, when evening came, that was a time for us. For my brothers to relax with their women and drink. And my brothers would need beer that didn’t taste like flat piss when they got back later, so I trudged down the stairs and changed the barrel quickly.
I disconnected the pipe work and reattached it to the new barrel before rolling the old one into the corner with the others ready for collection later in the week. The club tended to use mostly bottles of beer and whiskey, but Hardy was a stickler for a freshly poured beer straight from the tap and he’d gotten a lot of brothers into it too.
I wiped my hands on a dirty rag and stuffed it in my back pocket as I climbed back up the stairs.
“He’s doing it tonight,” Gauge said, his voice muffled.
I paused on the stairs, feeling a scowl etch itself into my features.
“Should have been done two days ago when I asked him,” Hardy replied. The sound of his fist slamming on the bar was unmistakable.
“This bitch is protected. And you know Fighter—he likes to be efficient.”
“He’s turning into a pussy. How efficient do you need to be to kidnap one puny fuckin’ woman?”
I cracked my knuckles and stomped up the last three steps, coming into view of the bar.
“Two security on her at all times,” I said coming closer. Hardy and Gauge turned to stare. Gauge looked anxious, which did nothing to soothe my fractured mind. But Hardy? That cold-hearted bastard stared me down.
“A car picks her up after three hours of being out of the house, no matter where she’s been, what she’s doing, or who she’s been with. She carries a hand pistol, a knife, and a bottle of pepper spray at all times. She’s not allowed to associate with anyone that isn’t connected to the Vipers and everything is reported back to her daddy. Razuuk also likes to leave his signature on any man that even looks at his daughter; two long knife lines down the center of their face. Her apartment is alarmed on all the doors and windows, with constant CCTV security linked straight to her daddy’s men, whose private office is around the corner. Cameras probably inside her apartment too, though I haven’t been in and don’t intend on goin’ in.”
“What’s your fuckin’ point?” Hardy grumbled, his dark gaze still boring into me, but I didn’t miss the uncomfortable shift on his seat. I made him nervous. Other than Battle, I made most people nervous. And that was how I liked it.
“My fuckin’ point, Prez, is that you asked me and not an outside source to do this because you trusted me and knew I’d get this shit done and get it done with no comeback on our club. So I’m doin’ the job my way, and I’ll get it done my way. Tonight.”
I stormed past Hardy and Gauge and headed for the door, fucking pissed that either of them doubted me in the first place.
I was Fighter. Born and bred from my name, and I always completed whatever job I was asked to do.
And Penny, she was just that: a job.
“Make sure you do, Fighter. I need this shit handled now. Not in a week, or a month. If I wanted that done I would have just had one of the boys shoot up her apartment and be done with it and her. Now do what you’re paid to do, and get that fuckin’ girl,” Hardy barked from behind me. “Because if you can’t handle a simple job like this, I’m not sure what the fuck I’m keeping you around here for.”
I didn’t reply. My angry silence was enough of a response for everyone.
~ 3 ~
Fighter
Outside it was dark, the sky clear of clouds and allowing the stars to illuminate the early evening. I threw my joint to one side as I watched Penny’s apartment block. The light had just gone out, so I knew she was on her way. And I was ready.
I’d quickly discovered that her father, Razuuk Beniz, was more than just a feared president of the Vipers MC. He was psychotic when it came down to the women in his life, controlling them to the point of terrorizing them. His wife had left many years before, never to be seen again, and though many thought he’d killed her because she’d wanted out of this life, there was no evide
nce to prove it.
Penny, much like her mother, was watched at all times, so getting her alone was next to impossible. Lucky for me that Penny had taken on her mother’s desire for freedom. Because on Tuesday nights she liked to sneak out to go to watch late-night showings of old black-and-white movies at the theater. And here she was—twelve thirty exactly.
The door to her apartment block opened and she stepped outside, closing it behind her. Jogging down the steps, her purse swinging over her shoulder, she made her way to her car—a gorgeous navy blue Mustang with white stripes down the side. It’d surprised the shit out of me when I found out that was what she drove but then, the more I delved into this girl’s life the more surprised I’d become.
Hardy and Gauge hadn’t lied when they said she was a mean bitch.
She was the meanest.
She wasn’t afraid of anyone or anything, which, given how protected she was, surprised me. She was a well kept princess that didn’t have to worry about shit barring looking pretty and doing as she was told, yet she didn’t act like it.
I strode over silently, letting the shadows of the buildings hide me from her line of sight. I was used to blending into the darkness, to hiding in plain sight. And it didn’t matter how tough she thought she was, nothing could have prepared her for me. This was what I did best.
Penny pulled out her car keys and unlocked her door, briefly looking around before climbing into the driver’s seat and putting the key in the ignition. After a few strangled groans she slammed her fist against the steering wheel and opened her door to get out.
She reached back inside grab her purse, and when she stood back up I slammed my hand over her mouth. She twisted and writhed in my grip, screaming beneath my hand as she tried to clamp her teeth into my skin through the chloroform clad material I was covering her mouth with. Her elbow swung back and caught me in the ribs, and I grunted in pain but kept my firm grip on her. I put my hand between her legs, grabbing her pussy over her tight black jeans as a threat and she gasped, taking in another lungful of chloroform.
Fighter: The Devil's Highwaymen Nomads #4 Page 2