The Royal Bastards clubhouse sits on a dirt road away from houses and cars. We don’t have a normal clubhouse. You must follow the road that leads to a long driveway and ride up to a chain-link fence surrounding a huge cement building that used to be a warehouse at one time but now belongs to the Royal Bastards MC. There’s a guard shack to the left in front of the fence unmanned. After Samantha, the Club Bitch, infiltrated our security when she and the Bloody Scorpions kidnapped Monica, we tightened our defense. The only way in or out of this place is through the rolling gates. We set security cameras up in every corner of the building and the blind spot along the fence moving with us on motion sensors. You enter and turn to the left of the gates, past the parking lot and roll up to the white garage doors. Each of us have a button on our bikes and the door rolls up for us to enter. The fluorescent lights turn on the motion sensors detecting our movements.
A long corridor leads deep into the clubhouse. In the commons room to the left are the pool tables and dartboards. To the right are a few couches and chairs set up in front of a seventy-inch-widescreen TV.
To the back of the commons room is the bar. Behind the bar is our club logo etched in a mirrored glass along with the Royal Bastards club rules. Twenty-six Chapters range from the east coast starting in Boston, MA; NYC; Baltimore, MD, North Carolina, all the way south to Tampa and Miami, FL then across the US through Georgia, Mississippi, Louisiana, Tennessee, Kentucky, Missouri, West Virginia, Michigan, Colorado, Nebraska, Texas, to the west coast in Arizona, California, Nevada and Alaska. Twenty-six Chapters all over the US and we’re expanding overseas too. If any one of them needs anything, we drop what we’re doing and go in a heartbeat. Loyalty to the Club goes before everything else. It doesn’t matter if you’re balls deep in your Ol’ Lady on your honeymoon in Cabo. If a Chapter needs help, you are there with no hesitation.
“Hey, Prez.” Torch approaches me with cautious steps out back.
I glare at him and inhale the nicotine deep into my lungs. “Blayze and I have to leave for a few days. Bear will be in charge. Get with him and make sure everything is still set up for the meets and fights. We should be back in three, maybe four days tops.” Clean money for our Club filters through the MMA fighting ring, a few bars, a porn studio and a mechanic shop. We run our illegal dealings with guns and weed, never any hard stuff, and taking care of known criminals without a trace.
“Is everything OK?” Torch who’s known not to give a fuck except blowing things up and enforcing our rules asking this question tells me I’m not doing a good enough job of hiding my feelings.
“Yeah, it’s all good, brother.” I slap him on the back and head into the clubhouse. “I’ll have a job for you when we get back, brother. Be ready to let off some fireworks south of the border.” I call out over my shoulder. I don’t have to see his face to know he’s smiling from ear to ear. I walk into my room and pack a bag. Heading out to the garage, I’m on my bike waiting for Blayze. Not long after, he shows up with Monica tucked under his arm. A twinge of jealousy burns my chest watching the two of them. Blayze kisses Monica and then throws his helmet on and mounts his bike. She leans in and gives him another kiss before we take off. Riding into the sun and toward LAX, I relax a little. Images of a feisty blonde pop into my head and I know I have to figure out a way to make Danyella officially mine. Once I get this business with Jameson in NOLA taken care of, I will fix what’s broken between us.
Chapter 4
Danyella
As the deep rumbles of Derek and Xander’s bikes fade into the distance, I release a deep sigh and head back into the clubhouse. A place that’s been home for Blayze and me for the last several years. I wanted to go to Capone, run my fingers through his dark hair, give him a goodbye kiss and wish him luck on his trip, but I don’t have the right to do that. Not now and probably not ever. After the way he pushed me away last night, it’s clear he isn’t interested in me that way. Probably never will be. After all the baggage I carry with the kidnapping and assault, no one would want my fucked-up head anyways.
Bloody Scorpions might not have touched me physically, but they did some mental damage. The one who did rape and beat me is now dead by my hands. I want control back of my life. I might never be the way I once was, but I need to find a way to overcome the things stopping me and become a better woman. A woman who can push aside her own feelings for the man she craves. A woman who can handle the president of a motorcycle club and all the things that come with it.
My phone vibrates in my pocket and a sense of dread washes over me. I ignore it like I have for the last several months. I don’t know how long I can continue to ignore it, but I’m going to for as long as I can. I can’t bring myself to accept the fact I have another secret I’m hiding from the whole club and I’m afraid when they find out, I’ll be disowned and out on my ass faster than I can breathe.
I’m sick and tired of being weak. I’m done being pushed around by men who have no business doing what they’re trying to do. They see me as an easy target. Someone they can do what they want with and not have a care in the world. I will surprise them all. I need to make not only my mind stronger but my body as well.
There’s one thing I can do while I sit and wait. I head into the clubhouse to find Torch. He’s the only one I can think of here to help me with what I want to do. Being the enforcer of the club, he knows how to defend himself and fight. I want control back and my mind is made up. I find Torch sitting at the bar nursing a drink.
“Torch,” I call to him. He turns his head and pierces me with bright blue eyes. The scowl on his bearded face disappears when he spots me.
“What can I do for you, Danyella?” The deep rasp of his voice is soothing. His scarred hands clenching his glass is a contradiction to the calm facade he’s putting forth.
Taking a deep breath I exhale, gaining the confidence I need to ask what I want to ask. “Can you teach me how to fight and defend myself?”
“No.” Torch turns his back to me; his leather cut creaks under protest.
All the confidence I had deflates and my shoulders sag. “I get it. A woman in the ring isn’t good for the club.” Anger fills my voice causing his hands to clench harder around the glass. “That’s OK. I’ll find Bear or Red and ask them. But I figured you’d be able to help me. Must be you’re all talk and no action.” I turn my back on him and start to walk away.
“Wait a fucking minute, little one.” Torch stands to his full height, dwarfing me. He releases a deep sigh, “Fuck me, I’m asking for trouble. Meet me at the gym in ten. You want to learn to fight, I’ll teach you. But don’t cry when it gets tough.” Torch walks past me toward his room and I hurry into mine.
I change into workout shorts and a sports bra. I’m tying my shoes when Monica comes sauntering in my room and plops on the bed next to me.
“What are you doing?”
“Torch is teaching me to fight.” The excitement in my voice is unmistakable.
Her eyebrows raise high into her forehead. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“Why wouldn’t it be? I need to learn how to defend myself.” I sigh before standing up.
“Because it’s not my brother teaching you.” Monica answers. I turn to look at her, trying to figure out what she’s talking about. “Look, I know you don’t get it, but having another man teach you to fight isn’t a good idea.”
“Why not? It’s not like Derek has any interest in me. He’s made that clear.” I cross my arms over my chest, irritated. “Besides, I’m not looking to hook up with Torch. I need to get control of my life back. If I knew how to defend myself, I never would’ve been taken.”
“Oh, Danyella you have no clue, do you?” The pity in Monica’s eyes has the hair on my arm stand on end.
“Clue about what? What are you talking about?”
“Nothing. Just watch what you’re doing. You’re asking a brother to train you and that brother isn’t the one you want.” Monica rises from the bed and we walk together into th
e common’s room.
“I’m so confused, Monica. What aren’t you telling me?” I stop and rest a hand on her arm. “Please, tell me.”
She offers me a sweet smile and pats my hand. “It’s not my place to say anything. Derek will tell you when he’s ready.”
“Danyella, you ready?” Torch asks, interrupting our conversation. He has on a pair of basketball shorts, no shirt, displaying all his tattoos and muscles, and a pair of shoes. He looks different without his jeans and leather cut.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Monica asks.
“Yup, little one wants to learn how to defend herself. Why shouldn’t I teach her?” A look passes between the two of them. If I wasn’t paying attention, I would’ve missed it.
“Fine, I’ll join you. Blayze has taught me a lot in the last few years that could be helpful.” Monica speaks up.
“You don’t have to, Monica, I’ll be fine.” I’m not sure what’s going on but for some reason, she doesn’t want me alone with Torch. It’s not like I have any interest in him. He’s not the one who makes my heart skip in my chest or my brain to stop working.
“I have nothing else to do while I wait for Blayze to get back. Besides, it’ll be fun.” Monica leaves to change.
“Ready?” Torch asks again. With a nod of my head, I follow Torch out the back door and into the gym. He flips on a light and leads me to the treadmills set up along the wall. “First you’re going to warm up those leg muscles. Run for fifteen, get the heart pumping, then we’ll move to the arms.”
“I thought we were going to fight?” I’m confused.
“We will, little one, but you can’t just jump right in. You want my help; this is how we’ll do it.” Torch sets the treadmill while I get on. “When you get moving, increase the speed every five minutes until you’re maxed out.”
The treadmill moves under my feet and I begin walking. Increasing the speed every few minutes until I’m jogging, sweat pouring off me like never before. Torch moves to the back of the gym, out of sight. I hear his phone ring but can’t hear what he says.
Monica enters the gym and jumps on the treadmill next to me. She adjusts her speed and starts jogging right away. I increase the speed on mine some more until I’m running, Monica does the same. We keep pace with each other until Torch comes back and slows me down, Monica follows and once we slow down enough to walk, we shut the treadmills off.
“This way,” Torch grumbles and I follow him to a set of weights. My legs are on fire but I won’t complain. He hands me a set of small hand weights and I begin curling. “Two reps of ten, then two more reps of ten on each hand. Monica, you have a sec?” Torch motions with his head and they walk into the back of the gym. I can’t hear what they’re saying no matter how hard I try. Monica comes back out with Torch on her heels. She smiles at me and begins her reps. Once we’re done, I follow them into the back of the gym.
He has the boxing area set up with a jump rope, a big rope, punching bags and body bags. That’s what those big bags look like to me. He’s going to torture me until I can’t move, isn’t he?
Torch stands next to the jump rope and picks it up, threading it through his fingers, “In order to be a good fighter and defend yourself, you need agility.” He hands me the jump rope. “The faster your feet move, the better you can counteract your opponent’s strikes. I want five sets of ten.”
I take the jump rope out of his hands. This isn’t what I was thinking I had to do to defend myself. I begin my sets, first slowly then picking up speed as I go. Torch watches from the corner of the room.
“Good, keep it up. Before long, these will be easy.” Torch appraises.
“I didn’t realize I’m this out of shape,” I pant. Sweat is pouring off me in buckets.
“You’re not that out of shape, you don’t use these muscles. Which is what I’m fixing. We’ll do this at the same time every day. And if I’m not here for some reason, you’ll do it alone or with Monica. No excuses. I’ll know if you cheat yourself.” Torch says.
He walks to the back of the room and turns on the radio. Music pumping out of the speakers gets me motivated to move faster. My reps are done and I’m panting and out of breath.
“What’s next?” I ask holding my hands above my head. My legs are on fire and my lungs burn.
“Next is the rope.” Torch demonstrates what I need to do with this big thing. I don’t know if I can even wrap my hands around the thing it’s so big. He holds one in each hand and moves one arm then the other, creating a ripple with the rope. “You try. Give me what you can with this one and we’ll adjust as we go.”
I step up and grab it. My fingers barely wrap around the thickness of it and begin swinging my arms trying to mimic Torch. After ten minutes, my back is aching and I can barely lift my arms. This ass is trying to kill me, I know it for sure now.
“OK, good. Now, I’m going to tape up your hands and you’re going to show me how you punch.” Torch motions for me to come over and I do, dragging my feet. He tapes my hands up with some white sticky tape on one side. I’ve seen MMA fighters use this before but never knew why. “This will protect your knuckles and help keep your wrists strong.” Torch finishes taping up my hands and he does the same to Monica. I take a quick water break while I wait, guzzling the bottle as fast as I can. Torch shakes his head like he knows something I don’t. I crush the water bottle and stand in the center of the room.
“First, I want you to show me your stance.”
I want to show him I know what I’m doing, so I recall what someone taught me years ago. I think it was some guy I tried to date in high school. That didn’t last long for some unknown reason. I stand with my feet shoulder-width apart and bring my fists up next to my face. My right arm is out a little further than my left. Torch walks around me and grabs my hips, pivoting them. He immediately drops them like I burned him. He kicks my legs out a little further with his toes. He grabs my hands and adjusts my fists so they’re a little lower than before. Minimal contact and he’s squirming in his shorts. What the hell?
“Are you left or right-handed?” Torch’s rough voice asks.
“Left.”
“This will be a little odd for me, but I’ll make it work. Keep your hands just below your chin. Your right hand stays slightly higher than your left and away from your body. Your left hand will be level with your collar bone and closer to your body.” Torch instructs.
I make the adjustments. “It feels weird.”
“That’s because your muscle memory is set to the other way. We’ll work on it so it comes naturally.” Torch stands in front of me. “Now, punch with your left. Bring it across your body and move your right in slightly.” I do what he says and he grabs my fist, turning it. “When you punch, you want it straight, not curved or turned. You’ll break your hand or wrist if you don’t.” I do it again.
“Good, keep that up.” I repeat the process several times until he tells me to stop. “Now, do the same with your right.” I do and find myself adjusting my wrist as I extend it. “Feet apart!” Torch shouts. I move my feet where he had them. “Now do both, left and then right.”
Hours later I have the new technique down, my arms are sore and I can barely keep them raised. My feet are aching and my lungs are burning. Monica has been doing the exact same thing right next to me. Only she isn’t sweating as bad as I am.
“Take a break and we’ll come back at it again tomorrow.” Torch instructs. I drop my arms and fall onto the mat covering my eyes with my tired arms.
“How in the hell do you do this torture?” I groan.
“I’ve been doing it for years,” Monica plops down next to me and hands me a water. “Here drink this. You’ll need to drink lots of water so your muscles don’t seize and cramp on you.”
“I can’t move,” I attempt to grab the bottle but fail miserably. “Too tired.”
Monica laughs before helping me sit up. “Here, now you can.” I take the offered water and guzzle it down. “Slow down, Champ.
You’ll make yourself sick.”
My stomach turns as soon as she says that. Bile climbing its way up my throat, burning it. Monica puts a bucket under my chin and I immediately throw up the water I just drank. “Uh…” I groan, setting the bucket next to me.
“Small sips, girl. Small sips.”
“Where’s Torch?” I ask looking around the gym. There are no windows at this level so it’s hard to say what time it is.
“He left right after you laid down.” Monica shrugs her shoulders.
“He really hates doing this doesn’t he?” Sadness laces my voice.
“No, it’s not that. It’s hard to explain,” Monica answers.
“What’s hard to explain? Either he wants to help me or he doesn’t. It’s not that hard.”
Monica runs her hands down her face and sighs. “You need to talk to Derek, that’s all I can say.” She stands up and stretches her arms above her head. The scars on her stomach are peeking out when her shirt raises. With everything this girl has been through, the scars she carries, she still managed to find love and take back control.
“How’d you do it?” I blurt out the question.
“Do what?”
“Overcome everything that’s happened to you?”
“The same way you will. I had the support of my brother and Blayze, the club, and most importantly, I learned how to love myself. No matter what happened to me, it didn’t define me but it gave me strength to fight through all the self-doubt.”
“Do you really think I can do it?” I ask hopefully.
“I know you will. When your mind is ready you can and will take everything that’s happened to you and become a stronger woman.” Monica gently squeezes my arm and helps me up. Together we walk out of the gym and into the fading sun.
“Wow, we’ve been in there for quite some time.” My stomach growls in protest. “I’m a little hungry.” Monica and I both giggle.
Capone's Chaos: Royal Bastards MC Los Angeles Chapter book #2 Page 3