15. SIN
“Motherfucker.”
The word slipped from me the second I rounded the corner into the kitchen and found Butch in there with a clubwhore.
Dray was pretty cool, all round, but the fact that she was sniffing the shit on the table while Butch boned her was a fucking no-no.
And that Butch was condoning it? That he’d probably bought it for her?
Fuck.
I scrubbed a hand over the back of my neck, and for the first time, I was unsure what to do.
I’d seen Butch sniffing marching powder up his nose before, wiping away white trails on his nose, but that was before. I was uncertain of my place here. I had to fit in.
I had no place in this chapter, and with my future on the line, Tiff’s too, I’d been unable to say shit.
Now?
I was potentially going to be the Enforcer for the NJ chapter of the Satan’s Sinners.
Enforcers didn’t hide around fucking corners wondering what the fuck they should do.
Nyx wouldn’t hesitate to smash the bastard’s skull into the table, and while I definitely wasn’t as insane as Nyx, I’d earned my name for a reason.
“The fuck are you doing?” I snapped, striding into the room.
Dray squealed, and the straw she had up her nose went flying, as did a lot of the powder. Her wail was neither orgasmic nor in surprise at her being caught—it was outright distress at the powder’s flight.
Butch shot me a grin, and from his eyes alone, I saw he was high.
The dumbfuck knew the rules. Christ, it wasn’t like there were many.
No drugs.
Mostly because it fucked with business. We were a hedonistic bunch. It wasn’t often we were denied anything pleasurable, but drugs? Caused shit.
Plus, Bear had put the rule in place back when his VP had gotten hooked on meth. It had sent the fucker loopy. Could still remember Prince shoving the barrel of his fucking gun into his mouth and blowing his brains out—not just because it had been a disaster for the club, but because I’d been a Prospect at the time and I’d had to clean his fucking brains up off the floor.
I grabbed Butch by the back of the neck and shoved him down into the table. As his head collided with it, he growled at me, “What the fuck?”
He shoved Dray aside, and she went flying onto her knees, then he turned to me, dick out and flopping in the breeze, his fists raised.
One hit to the nose, and he went flying, joining Dray not only on the ground, but in a sprawl. He fell onto her, their heads colliding, knocking her out. He was out for the count seconds later, and that had nothing to do with the cocaine he’d been snorting.
A whistle sounded from behind me. “Long time since I’ve seen you do that.”
I cut Rex an irritated look, since it was clear he’d been watching me, waiting for me to act. “You could have waded in. I have no rank here.”
His grin was dry. “Wanted to see what you’d do. Can’t have my Enforcers pussying out on situations like this one, can I?”
My nostrils flared. “I’m not your Enforcer.”
“Not yet.” He sniffed as he peered down at the Prez. “Ain’t looking like Storm has that much of a choice now, is it?” He wandered over to Butch, kicked his foot. “Was looking for him anyway.”
“Why?”
“Peggy.”
The name had me snickering, but he shook his head at my amusement. “She’s been a bad girl.”
“You gonna spank her?” I joked.
“No, she’d like that. You’re gonna do it for me.” The menace on his face told me he wasn’t asking me to cheat on my woman for that skank.
My mouth dropped open, and unease slid around my veins like a snake hopped up on Red Bull. “I don’t hurt bitches.”
“She ain’t a bitch.”
Brows lifting at that, I cut a look at Butch. “If Peggy’s a he, then Butch will be the one who’ll want to slice and dice?—”
“No,” Rex interrupted, rolling his eyes. “She’s snatch, devious snatch at that.”
I arched a brow. “Spit it out. I don’t hurt snatch unless?—”
“The bitch is a traitor. And we all know that traitors have no gender.”
“The fuck did she do?” I rasped, anger starting to filter into me, overtaking the unease. We all loathed traitors, but Old Ladies who betrayed the club earned a special place in hell.
“Maverick went digging after I told him what you said—that Butch is a junkie.”
“What did he find?”
“A fucker that was trashed by the Five Points for snitching with the Famiglia?—”
“Jonny O’Byrne?”
Rex’s brows lowered. “How do you know that?”
“Mary Catherine told me.” I shrugged. “Her mother told her O’Byrne had gone missing.” I grunted at his look, knowing what he was thinking. Wanting to avoid that particular minefield, I groused, “She told me about O’Byrne.”
Rex frowned. “Why would she do a thing like that?” he asked as he waded over to where Butch and Dray were snoring on the floor like they’d just finished fucking instead of the rude disruption they’d both had.
“Because I knew him.”
“How?”
“He was in my class.” The fucker had been a prick back then too. My lips twitched. “He used to bully me.”
Rex’s eyes widened as he lowered himself beside Butch and rolled him onto his side so he could access his pockets. “He used to bully you?”
“I was a lot smaller. Barely fucking ate. You saw the state of me when I landed at the Sinners’ compound back then.”
His mouth grew taut. “Fucking bitch of a mother.”
“Yeah. I’m not so small anymore.”
“Not so much,” he said with a laugh.
“The fuck are you doing?” I questioned, as I watched him start to rifle through the other Prez’s pockets.
“Looking for his wallet. Sure as shit ain’t groping the ugly fuck.”
I snickered as I leaned back against the wall. “Go on. You were talking about Jonny O’Byrne.”
Rex hummed. “Guess what Peggy’s surname is.”
Irritation washed through me. “Motherfucker.”
“Yeah.”
“How related are they? I don’t remember him having an older sister at school.”
“Cousins.” He cut me a look. “We both know what we’ll do for family.”
My nostrils flared at that, but I just said, “What did she do?”
He wafted a hand. “Betrayed us. Fucking traitor.” When he finally grabbed Butch’s wallet, he opened it as he got to his feet and shoved shit on the table. “And this fucker let her get away with it.”
“You think he was involved?”
“He had to be.”
“What did she do?”
“Mav got into her phone, read her text messages. Jonny would ask her to pass on messages to Sinners in the local prison. You remember last year when that big bust went down in Cincinnati?”
“The gun haul?”
He dipped his chin. “Famiglia.”
“The haul or the reason it was busted?”
“Haul. Twenty of their men were dumped in the local penitentiary. Famiglia has been using O’Byrne as a go-between, getting their men perks on the inside. Easing shit for them until they can get home. Through Sinners who were instructed to protect them by fucking Peggy.”
My brows lowered. “You have to be shitting me. Guns? Crossing state lines? They were in there for the long term.”
Rex’s mouth turned into a sneer. “Exactly. A budding long-term, long-distance relationship. All without my or the council’s sanction.”
As he flipped through the guy’s wallet, he muttered, “I just wish Maverick had found all this shit out before we had our little church earlier.”
“Why?”
Rex smirked at me. “So everyone could catch a glimpse of Butch’s pencil dick.”
I snickered, then walked over to the downed man. Kicking him onto his front to hide said pencil dick, I looked over at Rex as he commented, “That had to feel good.”
“What?” I asked warily.
“Getting back to your roots.”
That had me wincing. “I don’t like my roots.”
“You can’t avoid what you are.” Rex cocked a brow. “We both know that.”
“Which makes me the son of a slut and a motherfucker? Yeah, great.”
Rex sniffed. “You know I’m talking about the fighting.”
“Ain’t you always where we’re concerned.”
“Fucking waste,” was all he said.
“I’m too old for that shit now.”
“Maybe on the circuit, but not for the MC. You’ve been wasting yourself as a lackey. About time you rose through the ranks. Just fucked up this is how you had to go about it.”
“You’re only saying this because?—”
“What? Favoritism?” Rex sniffed. “Yeah, you don’t know me at all if that’s the case. You’re a fucking strong brother. Your loyalty to the MC is without question. I think that’s what made shit hard on Nyx. Aside from the boozing, you never let the club down. That means a lot.”
I shrugged. “Had to defend my woman.”
“Yeah, I got that back then, and I get it now. But still, you were sneaky about it.”
“I had my reasons.”
“Don’t we all.” Rex pursed his lips, evidently pissed at how unforthcoming I was being.
He’d never understand why I’d done what I had, never get it because I’d never say a word—he was right where that was concerned.
Even though I’d been spawned from two disloyal cunts, I was loyal to my core.
Rex, surprising me, grabbed his knife from the holster on his shoulder, then wandered over to Butch, crouched at his side, then proceeded to dig it in Butch’s throat at the same time as he grabbed the bastard’s head and dragged his head back.
Butch came awake with a squawk.
“Put your cock away. We have business to discuss.”
Butch’s movements were slow. From my hit, from the drugs in his system, but also because he was a slow fucker anyway. How the hell he’d made Prez here, I’d never know. This chapter had voted him in though, and Rex was pretty democratic—for a knife-wielding autocrat.
When Butch finally shoved his dick away, Rex ordered, “Punch him again.”
I obeyed, smashing the fucker’s head back into the tiled floor with enough of a bounce that his mouth dropped open wide as he fell into unconsciousness again.
“You woke him just to make him put his dick away?” I inquired wryly.
“You’re the one who’s about to carry the fucker to the bunkhouse. Be grateful I’m so thoughtful.”
I snorted. “Thoughtful? The fucker weighs over two hundred pounds.”
“You telling me you’ve gone soft since the last time I saw you?”
I shifted out of the crouch. Kicking Butch into place, I leaned down and hauled him over my shoulder in a fireman’s hold.
“You always were built like a bull.”
“You say the sweetest things,” I mocked.
“It’s a gift,” Rex retorted dryly.
He opened doors for me, steering me out of the ramshackle clubhouse that made our place back in West Orange look like a palace.
When we veered outside, striding toward the bunkhouse where our chapter was staying, we passed no one. Not a single fucking soul. And even though most brothers got up late, the ones who didn’t have regular jobs at MC owned businesses at any rate, four in the afternoon was late for us.
“The fuck is going on in this place?” Rex growled. “Where is everyone?”
“They all have jobs.”
“Jobs?” He scowled at me. “For the MC?”
“No. For other places. Lots of garages, some factory work.”
“What the hell? Why?”
“No money coming in.”
Rex’s nostrils flared. “That does it. Storm ain’t got a say in it. He’s coming down and sorting this shit out.”
“Why?”
“Because if the funds are low, so fucking low that brothers are having to go out to work—then why are the accounts that Butch sends me showing that the MC is ticking over?”
And that was a question I couldn’t answer.
Rex’s mouth turned down at the corners as he stared at the fucker on my shoulder. “He’ll give us some answers before the dumbfuck finally does something useful with his life.”
I cut him a look. “Feeds some pigs?”
Rex scowled ahead. “Exactly.”