Chapter 8
Eight
Standing outside a barn in bumfuck nowhere in the middle of the night, I suck on a candy cane Gracie tucked in my pocket when I left two days ago.
She didn’t want me to leave. Trust me, I didn’t want that either.
We’ve only had a week together. Seven days ain’t enough with them.
Being away fucking sucks. But I’ll be back tomorrow after the drop-off.
Kade, a brother from the Texas Chapter, finishes locking the cargo in my van, hops out the back, and wipes blood off his blade onto the side of his pants.
I arch a brow in question, and the sadistic fuck grins. “He got mouthy.” He shrugs, without a care in the world.
“So, I have damaged merchandise?”
“I only cut his chest.”
Staring up at the star-filled sky, I sigh. “How many times?”
“Ummm.”
Fuck.
“Kade,” I growl. This young asshole knows I hate cleaning messes in my van. It takes hours between the water, the bleach, and drying. I have places to be. I have holes to fuck and bodies to cuddle.
“What?” The dark-haired pain in my ass shrugs again like he didn’t just add hours to my trip.
Rosie, his old lady, who’s even more lethal than her old man, shoves him in the arm as she walks past to see what kinda mess Kade made in the back. Her curse says it all.
A moment later, there’s a feminine grunt and the heavy thump of a body hitting the ground.
She drags the corpse over to us and drops the bloodied guy in front of Kade.
Shaking her head, Rosie huffs her disapproval and marches back into the barn.
She returns a few minutes later with another person they captured and didn’t kill.
“Hey!” Kade calls. “That one was for me.”
“Then don’t kill Wolf’s cargo,” Rosie scolds, pinning him with a glare.
“He mouthed off at me.”
“You carved out his eyeballs,” she points out.
“He deserved it.”
Sighing, the short-haired blonde forces a sedated captive into the back of my van as a replacement.
Kade turns to me, grumbling under his breath.
I can’t help but chuckle. I’m here because I got a call.
Nothing more, nothing less. The Kings of Anarchy, an Illinois chapter, need their cells filled so they can make money killing these sickos on the internet.
I don’t care who we lock up and they kill.
“What’s up with these guys?” I ask Kade, thumbing toward the back of my van.
He nods to the old farmhouse up the dirt lane. “Trafficking house. I found two kids chained in the bedroom. We killed a few, but Necro needs bodies.”
“And the woman?” I ask around my candy cane, referring to the brunette in the back of my van.
“Seems she’s a local schoolteacher who lures her students here. This is her place. Fuckin’ bitch. I figured Coffin could have fun with her.”
“Oh. I’m sure he will.” I chuckle. Torturing awful women is his specialty. I dunno why, and I don’t care. I’m the driver. That’s all that matters. The quicker I get this delivery done, the faster I can return to Gracie and Jace.
Kade and I carry on a bit more as the eyeless corpse lies on the ground between us. When we’ve caught up on club shit, which you can’t know about, we back clap and part ways.
The five-hour drive to Kings Cursed, the town the Kings of Anarchy own, is uneventful.
To keep the drive less of a shit show with passengers, it’s customary for them to be sedated.
Not entirely, but I don’t have the patience to listen to sick fucks talk smack for hours.
Even with gags, they’re pricks. Consider me the ferryman taking them to their final resting place.
People don’t take too kindly to dying. Add in dying on livestreams, where people pay to watch you get tortured, and they’re even less inclined to not act like a bunch of shitbags.
Not that I can blame them. I’d be pissed, too, if that happened to me.
Then again, I wouldn’t traffic humans. Well, not like they do, anyhow.
Soft rock pulses through my speakers, and I hum to the tunes as I cross into Kings Cursed and snicker at the red spray paint on the town sign.
It’s just past dawn, and I’m running on empty as I navigate the lane to their church on the hill.
Yeah, they live in a church. It’s old and creepy, but it suits the club.
Creature’s there when I pull around the side to unload the cargo.
When I open my door, he greets me. “Hey, brother. You made good time.”
“I always do.” We fist bump as I open the back of the van, step in, unfasten the assholes from their shackles, and force them to get the fuck out.
They put up a half-assed fight. They always do, even when woozy.
The mid-forties female, who’s naked and covered in bruises, snarls around her gag and kicks at me.
Stepping away, I put my hands up.
I don’t fuck with women.
No matter the vile shit they’ve done, that’s not for me. I love women too much to hurt them, even if they deserve it.
Coffin, the blond brother of this chapter, steps up to the open back door and grins. It’s downright evil, curling up from the edges like a villain in a horror movie.
He waves for me to get out. Nodding, I do just that and rest against the side as the van rocks.
The woman wails in agony as Coffin subdues her however he pleases.
Once he wrestles her out, he drags her by the hair around the church to the underground passage, where they keep the prisoners.
Her thin legs give out along the way and bump against rocks and across dead grass as tears stream down her cheeks.
Creature, the scarred face brother I usually deal with, pulls a fat stack of cash outta his cut and slaps it against my chest, pulling my attention from Coffin.
“I don’t need that.” I shove his hand away.
Creature snorts. “Don’t be stupid, brother. Consider it an early Christmas present.”
“For what?”
“Does it matter?” he cocks off. “Prez told me to hand it over. He’d have done it himself, but he doesn’t do sunlight unless it’s for his old lady.”
I’d heard that from someone. Not sure who.
Necro doesn’t make many appearances, and I’m fine with that. He’s one scary-lookin’ motherfucker. Plus, he doesn’t talk. I don’t know why, and again, it’s none of my business.
Not wanting to offend him, I sigh and stick out my palm. Creature slaps the stack into my hand, and I shove it into my back pocket. “Thanks. I guess?”
Creature clasps my shoulder. “Consider it Necro’s way of sayin’ thanks for the drop-offs.
We’re not fond of outsiders ‘round these parts. We prefer you runnin’ for us.
He didn’t tell me to say this, and I know he’s listenin’, but we want you doin’ all our drops.
Year-round. Not just durin’ the warm months. ”
Ah. So that’s what this is all about.
“But the cold fuckin’ sucks.” I peer up at the dreary sky.
“Yeah. It does.” Creature chuckles, only half of his face moving on account of his gnarled scars. “But it’s not too bad today.”
I suppose it’s not.
“Maybe not here. But where I’m stayin’, we got almost a foot of snow.”
“With Gracie and Jace?”
Excuse me?
I rear back in surprise. “What the fuck? How do ya know that?”
“It’s our job to know.” He tucks his hands into his front pants pockets. “Plus, Kali called Sola and told her. They somehow know Gracie.”
Right. The club women and their gossiping.
Sola is Necro’s old lady, and Kali’s Sunshine’s, my fellow nomads’ old lady. That still doesn’t explain how they know Gracie.
“I don’t understand.”
“The internet, brother.”
“What are you…”
Oh.
Ohhhh.
“Gracie’s social media?” I guess.
Creature nods. “Yep. She’s got a big following, and apparently, a bunch of the sisters love her content.”
Right.
Of course.
“And Kali saw it and told Sola.” I connect the dots he already said.
“Those women work fast.”
No shit.
“They’re nosy as fuck. I never thought they’d see Gracie’s videos.”
“Don’t you watch them?”
“No. I don’t have any of that shit.” Social media is brain rot. I ain’t got time for that. I don’t want the time, either.
Creature heaves a sigh and shakes his head when he pulls out his phone and shows me Gracie’s social media pages and the recent video of us decorating the Christmas tree together.
Yeah… maybe I kissed her in the video, and maybe I kissed Jace, too, when we were decorating.
She told us what to do as we listened to old-school Christmas tunes and sipped hot chocolate.
It was…eh… fun. I guess. I liked it more than I thought I would.
But it was more about them than the act of decorating.
I don’t give a single fuck about Christmas.
Creature fast-forwards about a minute into the edited video, which only shows the key points of our tree trimming.
I’m laughing at something one of them said, and she pokes me in the stomach.
I swoop down and kiss her hard on the mouth, and the look on Jace’s face.
Damn. He’s happy. Like, smiling big with soft eyes, and if you look close enough, I’m pretty sure he’s hard.
Fuck.
I’m so goddamn screwed.
When the video finishes, I’m a mess of feelings. Living it and seeing it from an outside perspective is a different ballgame.
We look good together.
Creature swipes through the comments and chuckles at how crazy they are.
Omg. I’m so jealous! Who’s the silver fox?
I didn’t know Jace was bi. The kiss. Gah! So hot!
Happy for you, Gracie.
To be sandwiched between those two. I’d die happy.
Wait. Gracie and Jace have a third? Since when?
Gracie! Where have you been hiding this hunk?
Creature clicks out of the video after I’ve read more than my fair share of randos thoughts, then switches back to Gracie’s social media page. There’s only one video with me up—the most recent. She posted it two days ago, and it already has over two million views.
Gripping the back of my neck, I stare up at the ugly sky. “Fuck.”
Creature whistles, impressed. “Two mill.”
“Yeah. If the brothers didn’t know I was bi before. They know now.” Everybody knows. Not that I care, but damn…
“Seein’ as we don’t give a fuck about that, and neither do the Sacred Sinners, I think you’re good.” Creature stows his cell and posts up next to me against the side of the van. Our shoulders knock as I process the news.
Blowing out a heavy breath, I run a hand through my hair. “I don’t care what the brothers think. Bear’s gay.” If the club gave a fuck who you stuck your dick in, I wouldn’t be part of this club.
Creature hums. “Right. He’s the prez in Texas.”
“Yep.”
“What’s it like?” Creature asks.
“What’s, what like?”
“Fuckin’ a chick and a dude at the same time?”
Peeking over at him, I smirk. “Why? You wanna find out?”
Creature flushes as he stares up at the clouds. “No. I… Never mind.”
I knock my shoulder into his. “Don’t never mind me. Say whatever you gotta say.”
A beat passes as he gathers up the courage to speak. “Necro, Coffin, and Rot share Sola. But they don’t… ya know.”
“They don’t fuck,” I fill in for him.
“Yeah. They share her, but not each other.”
“And you wanna touch a dick and pussy?” I check, trying my damndest to give the guy a chance to open up. It’s not easy bein’ queer in a world where everyone’s expected to be straight.
Heaving a sigh, Creature shrugs noncommittally. “Maybe? Shit. I don’t know.”
I brother-punch him in the shoulder. “You’ll figure it out. There ain’t nothin’ wrong with likin’ what you like.”
“Yeah. I guess so.” His voice lowers, drifting in the melancholy territory. “If I ever get a chance to figure out what I like. There aren’t a whole lot of options around these parts.”
“No. I guess there’s not. You live in a ghost town. Maybe take a ride when the weather permits and get your dick wet. Meet people.”
It’d be good for him to get a taste of real life and real people beyond his brothers. Something tells me, given how he looks, Creature hasn’t met a whole lot of normies.
“Says the nomad,” he deadpans.
On a chuckle, I flip him off. “I’m talkin’ to you, ain’t I? And I’m too…” My phone buzzes in my front pocket, and I yank it out.
Jace: Gracie’s worried you’re not comin’ home.
Home.
Fuck.