T-Bone busts up laughing. Jigsaw grins like a puppy looking for a reward for peeing outside.
Poor Shonda glances at the door leading upstairs, like she’s rethinking her offer to give Jiggy a rubdown. Can’t blame the girl, really.
“I’m fine, sweetheart,” I assure her. I reach over and slap Jigsaw hard enough to push him forward. “This one’s laid his bike down one too many times. On his head. So, be gentle with him.”
“Rooster! Jigsaw!” Ice shouts, jogging down the stairs. “Hey, honey.” He kisses Shonda’s cheek before sending her away.
“Welcome, home, brothers.” We go through another round of hugs and handshakes with the president of our Port Everhart, VA charter.
“Thanks for letting us drop in.”
“You’re always welcome here.” Ice scratches his chin and rocks back on his heels. “Z said you’d be able to help us set up a site for one of my girls. Maybe create a membership-based service to distribute films we’re producing. Think you’re up for it?”
“Yup. We have several sites and I’m running all of them at the moment. One’s more successful than the others, but she had a huge following to begin with. Sway bankrolled her project and it kind of snowballed from there,” I say with complete confidence.
“Good. Let me show you one of the areas we might use,” Ice offers. “Then we’ll visit the house we’re setting up.”
Damn, sounds like Ice has this thought out a hell of a lot better than we did.
“Joke’s on you, by the way,” Jigsaw whispers as we follow Ice and T-Bone over gray tile floors into a narrow, stark-white hallway. “Now she’ll want to tend to my boo-boos even more after you basically told her I’m brain-damaged.”
“You’re here to listen and learn,” I growl.
The sooner I turn over the porn production to Jiggy, the better. His obsession with female anatomy makes him perfect for the job.
“So you’re all wifed up now, Rooster?” T-Bone asks.
“I’ve got a girl,” I answer carefully.
“She’s actually pretty cool,” Jigsaw says. “Don’t know what she sees in Rooster, though.”
Ice glances over his shoulder. “You patch her yet?”
Why does everyone keep asking me about patching Shelby? “Not yet.”
“Keep an eye on her if you bring her by,” he warns.
Great.
I hadn’t decided if I was going to even bring Shelby here. Yeah, it’s another Lost Kings MC charter, but I haven’t visited enough lately to know if it’s somewhere I’m comfortable taking Shelby. Especially when our time together is so fleeting.
We step through a wide-open door and Ice flips on a light. We’re standing in a cool, mostly empty cement basement that resembles something out of a Saw movie more than a biker clubhouse.
“Z said you’re good at setting stuff up?”
“Depends what we’re talking about.”
Ice hooks his thumbs in his pockets and turns to face us. “Already got the talent.”
I bet you do. “That’s the hardest part.”
“Anya’s my star. She’s accumulated a huge fanbase in a short amount of time.”
“Even better.”
“She hot?” Jigsaw asks.
T-Bone side-eyes him. “Here I thought Rooster was joking about you taking some knocks to the head.”
I cover up my laugh with a cough.
“Anyway,” Ice says, giving Jiggy a final warning scowl, “she’s been camming for a while but wants to focus on film.”
“Smart move,” I answer. “Camming’s a lot of work. If she starts creating content instead, she can spend a day or two filming, then have a finished product to sell forever.”
“Right.” Ice waves his hand in the air. “I don’t care about the details. I just want her safe, happy, and making bank.”
T-Bone glances down at his boots and chuckles.
“So you have female talent covered.” I’d really rather not know the details about Ice’s relationship with his “talent.” “What about male performers?”
Both of them sort of gag as if I’d asked them to fuck random dudes. Working hard to control my eye roll, I elaborate, “Our star was in the industry before so she already had access to talent. Then she does this other thing where she takes applications from her audience.”
“Yeah, I don’t want Anya doing that,” Ice says quickly.
“She can work it out later.” For fuck’s sake, I’m sorry I even mentioned it. Unless he’s planning for her to only film solo stuff, logic dictates dudes are an obvious ingredient. Whatever.
I move on to some other ideas. “Custom stuff will sell big. Customers get off on thinking they’re the director. She can also do some content trade with other performers.”
As much as Z wants me to leave Stella out of this, her numbers were down last month. Nothing alarming, but some exclusive scenes from a newcomer might help boost interest. If they partner up, it could benefit both girls and both charters in the long run.
“We can build her own website where she controls everything, or upload to a platform that will store and deliver for you. Those places usually take a hefty commission, but it can be worth it for the traffic they generate.”
“Let’s keep it in-house.”
“All right. I’ll still get her set up on a few platforms. She can post short clips there and direct them to her site where they can pay for the full ones.”
“Yeah, I like that idea.”
“Having your own location simplifies things. No reason to get permits to film, but she’s going to have to keep some records of anyone she shoots with.” Outlaws aren’t so fond of paper trails. While this whole operation’s quasi-legit at best, that’s a basic requirement that needs to be addressed whether Ice likes it or not. Again, it was simpler setting up this stuff with Stella because she’d already been in the business for years.
“Yeah, that’ll be my job too.” T-Bone raises his hand slightly.
Ice glances over his shoulder. “This is one space we’re considering using. Like, some fetish, dungeon shit.” He shrugs. “But I’ve got a rental house not too far from here. Anya’s working on decorating ‘theme’ rooms.”
Meaning she’s out shopping with the prez’s credit card.
Cool.
Any second, my eyes are gonna roll right the fuck out of my head.
“Great. If she can make it look like she’s mixing up locations without having to spend a lot on travel and renting space, even better. We can also generate income with advertising and sponsorships.”
“Whatever brings in some cash to replace what we’ve lost recently.”
That’s almost a golden opportunity for me to probe into what sort of direction he’s getting pushed in by our national president.
Ice crosses his arms over his chest. “Gettin’ real sick of Priest breathing down my neck.”
Gee, I didn’t even have to ask.
He and T-Bone share a look. “We had an issue with Vipers trying to expand into our territory.”
“Surprised they’d mess with us down here when we helped them move out of New York,” I say.
T-Bone shrugs. “They’ve never been the brightest.”
“We had an understanding with them for years.” Ice’s cold, hollow voice would probably send a shiver down the spine of anyone else. “Then they burned one of our tattoo parlors down.”
“Arson seems to be a theme with them,” Jigsaw says.
Ice nods. “Right. Forgot about Furious. Wrath’s rebuilt the place, though, right?”
“Fuck yeah,” I answer. “Bigger than before but it took a while.”
“Yeah, I’m still sorting through fucking ashes. We handled the Vipers, but the attention brought ATF sniffing around.”
“Fuck.”
“We fixed that issue,” Ice adds with a maniacal smile.
Lord, that’s not a confession I want to hear.
“Priest’s aware,” Ice assures me, reading my don’t-make-me
-an-accessory-to-murder-after-the-fact expression correctly. “The problem’s been solved.”
Jiggy better not decide now would be an optimal time to crack a joke.
“That’s good.” I take a second look at the basement. It’s probably stored a body or two. Bet they’ve used it to store guns at some point too.
“Let’s just say that soon, ATF will be busy focusing elsewhere and we’ll be free to handle whatever action we want, and Priest can’t say shit about it.”
Bad sign.
“You want back into guns?” I ask against my better judgment.
“I don’t like Priest telling us what we can and can’t do. Doesn’t that bug you?”
Yeah, but I’m also not eager to sign up for an extended prison stay, which running guns will bring us eventually.
“Doesn’t matter.” He shrugs. “We’ve taken care of it.”
Uh, can we dig into that?
“Come on.” Ice slaps my shoulder and turns me toward the door. “I’ll take you to the house and show you around.”
Can’t wait. “I’ll start making up a list of the equipment we need.”
“Corporate names have all been filed. Bank accounts opened. Domain names registered. I’ll get you that info so you can order whatever you need.”
“Perfect.”
We follow Ice down the hallway. I yank Jigsaw closer. “Pay attention, brother.”
“Wouldn’t miss a minute.”
“Asshole,” I growl under my breath.
The main area’s filling up with more people. Mostly girls. T-Bone gestures to a cluster of women sitting on top of the bar. “We have our choice of talent right there. Every night of the week, brother.”
“Yeah?” I sweep my gaze over the group. “Every one of them cool with filming themselves and throwing it out there for the world to see?”
“You’d be surprised.” Ice flicks his presidential glare T-Bone’s way. “We’re trying to run this thing as professionally as possible. Signed contracts, profit splits. I want everything spelled out. No wiggle room.”
Smart man. “That’s probably for the best.”
Priest sure as fuck won’t be happy if they go from ATF watchlist to getting sued by random club girls who catch a case of porn star’s remorse after their parents find their biker bangfest online. A story that salacious might actually bring more than the prying eyes of ATF.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Rooster
The rental house Ice takes us to is nothing remarkable. There’s no neon sign outside announcing it’s about to be turned into a den of sin. Four bikers tearing through the quiet, suburban neighborhood probably isn’t appreciated, though.
Ice pulls into a long, wide, freshly blacktopped driveway and shuts down his bike. The rest of us pull up next to him in a neat line. I survey the area—large yard, lots of space between the house and the nearest neighbor. Good signs.
How long’s Ice been planning this porn paradise? Or did he buy the place for some other reason?
The answers don’t matter and have nothing to do with why I’m here. Help the club set up their new business. That’s all I need to do. The rest isn’t my concern.
“Nice area,” I say to Ice when he approaches. “Neighbors aren’t too close. Should cut down on noise pollution and any complaints.”
He glances around at the manicured lawns and perfectly planted shrubbery. “That’s the idea.”
He pulls out a key and leads us in through a side door. “Anya’s not here right now, but she’s been working on each room.”
Kitchen—complete with counters at a fuckable height. Table and chairs—sturdy. Laundry. A room in the back set up like an office, with an ornate desk, high-backed leather chair, and built-in bookcases. Plenty of office “romance” potential. I flick a few switches. Decent overhead lighting.
“Bar stools for anal scenes,” T-Bone points out as we return to the kitchen. “Adjustable height.”
I flick my gaze to the ceiling. “Classy.”
He smirks and hurries to catch up with Ice.
Jigsaw shakes with laughter and gives one of the stools a spin.
I elbow him and we find our way into the living area.
T-Bone spreads his arms wide. “Orgy room.”
Jiggy studies the low, flat L-shaped sectional. “Looks like a giant bed.”
“That’s the idea.”
Upstairs is more of the same. Three bedrooms and even the bathroom staged with filming in mind. A pink, frilly room with a double bed covered in stuffed animals—which is honestly more creepy than anything. One room with two twin beds and a desk, which I suppose resembles a college dorm.
The last bedroom on the right has a more lived-in feel. It’s decorated in white, peach, and soft tan colors. A leather jacket tossed over the back of a chair. An ornate vanity overflowing with cosmetics. Closet doors open wide, with clothes, purses, and shoes spilling into the room.
“Does she live here too?” I ask.
“Most of the time,” Ice answers evasively.
The room across from that one is the largest and still empty. “Not sure what she has planned in here,” Ice says.
I check out the wide bay windows. Probably has good sunlight early in the morning.
“Well, what do you think?” Ice asks.
“You’re further along than I expected. Place looks great, honestly. She has a good eye for detail.” I glance at the windows again. “You’re going to need more lighting throughout the house. Really blow out each location you’re going to film in with light.”
“You mean install them or buy lamps?” he asks.
“Lot of low-budget sets are using LED panels. They’re pretty reliable. This is a big place. She’ll need a lot of them, unless you’re going to be hauling them from location to location.”
Ice shrugs. “Whatever she needs.”
“Who’s actually doing the filming? Directing?”
His expression remains blank. “She is.”
Man, he has a lot of faith in this chick. Spending an awful lot of cash for what amounts to an amateur production.
Downstairs, a door slams. “Ice, is that you?” a woman calls out.
“Upstairs.” He motions for us to follow him the way we came.
We find the star of this escapade waiting in the kitchen.
Anya’s about what I expected—young, tall, skinny, long blonde hair, big tits, giant name-brand purse on her shoulder, and a tiny dog tucked under her arm.
She flashes a quick warm smile at all four of us that makes me feel a little shitty for my snap judgment.
“How’d you do?” Ice asks, leaning down to kiss her cheek.
She bends over to set the dog down, giving the four of us a clear view down her shirt. “Good. The stuff for the big bedroom should be here Friday.”
The little dog runs over and scratches at my boot.
“Aw, he likes you,” Jigsaw says.
“He likes everyone.” She drops her purse on the counter and flicks her questioning gaze between Jigsaw and me. Sure enough, the dog scampers over and scratches at Jigsaw’s leg next.
“Babe, this is Rooster. He’s gonna help you set up some of the technical side this week.” Ice leers at her and tucks her hair behind her ear. “Whatever he needs, you give it to him, got it?”
Uh, make it sound like I expect to be paid in blow jobs, much, Ice?
“Jigsaw’s here to help out too.” Ice lightly punches Jiggy’s shoulder. “I promise he’s not as scary as he looks.”
She flashes another genuine smile. “You don’t look scary at all.”
Jigsaw’s lips quirk. Great, he’s already smitten for the second time in two hours.
God help me.
She focuses on me again. “You’re the one who’s worked with Stella, right?”
“My club has.”
“I like her style. I’m trying to create a similar feel without traveling to different hotels and stuff.”
“What you have here looks
great.” I nod to Ice. “Location’s one of the hardest parts. Not a lot of places to film outside of Florida, Las Vegas, or LA. And even then, people aren’t always open to having a film crew defile their house. Having your own space is smart.”
Ice snorts. “Figured it’ll be less trouble than renting out the house to deadbeat tenants.”
Sure, hire someone to clean the jizz off the walls once a week and you’re all set, Prez.
“I’ve been working on promotion.” She taps her phone. “I’m up to over five hundred thousand Instagram followers.”
Not bad for a chick I’ve never even heard of. Too bad only a small percentage of those followers will be willing to pay actual money for content. Even so, it’s a damn good start.
“I have a few things in the works.” She taps Ice’s chest and purses her lips into a pouty little smile.
I’m sure you do.
Hours later, I’m tucked away in Ice’s office at the back of the clubhouse. I finish placing orders for some of the supplies I need. Tomorrow, I’ll set up accounts on the different platforms we’ll use to upload the videos.
For now, I’m done.
I log off of Ice’s computer and shut it down, tucking the business credit card he’d handed me back into the desk drawer and locking it.
In the main room, music’s pumping. Brothers and club girls fill the place, engaged in various activities.
That whole ATF thing Ice mentioned before our trip to the porn palace is still nagging at me. At some point, I need to discuss it with Jigsaw, see if it gave him the same bad feeling.
I jog upstairs to the room I’m using at the clubhouse and pull Shelby’s schedule out from my pocket. I’d been so focused on Virginia because of our charter here that I missed a closer location.
Baltimore.
A few days apart and I’m missing Shelby more than ever. While there’s plenty to keep me occupied around here, I should be able to slip away for a day.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Shelby
Sweat rolls down my forehead and into my eyes as I finish soundcheck. Another outdoor, open-air pavilion. The sound’s better than the last two places but the air-conditioning is non-existent. Can’t seem to go anywhere to get relief.
Rhythm of the Road Page 23