Chapter 4
It was a relief when we finally passed through the gates to the compound, a prospect, Itchy or Kansas, I couldn’t tell who in the dark hauled it open when he recognized my bike.
I’d pulled around Waverley’s car to reach the gates before her, because they wouldn’t know her and also so I could get inside and away from her as quickly as possible.
War might feel guilty and want to hold her hand through this, but I sure as shit didn’t.
I was still pissed King made me go with War.
He thought it would make it easier for her, shows how much our President knows.
Waverley hates me. It was clear before she left and just as clear now. And the feeling was definitely mutual.
After parking my bike with the rest of my brothers, I climbed off, hooking my helmet over the handlebars, and stormed across the patchy grass and dirt to our clubhouse and my home.
It was a two-story square building that used to be a motel, taken over by the president before King and turned into a place for the club.
There had been a few add-ons over the years, including a garage for our mechanics who took care of the bikes and other vehicles, a separate house where the Old Ladies and the kids spent most of their time when they were around.
There was also a bunk house annex out back for visiting chapters when the need arose, and it was where the club girls who lived here stayed.
Plus, a large sound proofed building with three cells that were used when the situation called for it.
A lot of the guys had places of their own off the compound, especially the ones with families, but a few still lived here permanently.
The heavy metal music from the bar assaulted my ears as I pulled the door back and headed inside.
I didn’t look back, but I heard War’s bike, which was coming through behind her car.
Funny, Waverley spent years begging to be welcomed here.
Now she’d clearly rather eat a bag of rusty razor blades than step foot inside this building.
King wanted her close, so he’d already set up a room for her.
She shouldn’t be staying here. There were plenty of places she could go, but I wasn’t about to argue with King.
I’d get my ass handed to me. He may be getting on in years, but King was as terrifying as ever, and even though he’d known me since I was a scrawny ass kid, he didn’t go easy on me.
King expected loyalty and obedience and he got it from all of us. I didn’t agree with him about this. He’d laid down the law pretty quickly, and I’d had to grit my teeth, or I’d get the shit knocked out of me.
Inside, despite the dim lighting, it’s clear what’s going on. We never need an excuse to have a party here, every night was the same. Occasionally, it was quieter when some brothers were on a run, but tonight, it looked like there was a full house.
It smelled like smoke; both cigarettes and weed, alcohol, and sex. It may sound insane to think of these things being the smells and sounds that make me think of home, but that was what it did for me. I could barely remember the kid who promised Waverley we’d all leave with her.
Deep down, somewhere in the recesses of my mind, there was a sense of regret, of longing, but there was no point trying to remember that kid. She’d ruined that. I loved my life, I loved my club, and nothing would ever make me change my mind.
I headed over to the bar and Casper cracked the lid off a bottle of beer on the edge of the bar and handed it to me. He got his name because of his looks, hair whiter than snow and his eyes an arctic blue. It was a little cliché to name an albino Casper, but he hadn’t seemed to mind.
Despite being bullied throughout most of his childhood, he’d embraced the name they’d used to taunt him.
He was a year behind us in high school, but we helped him out, making sure the kids who picked on him and continuously beat him up knew they couldn’t mess with him anymore.
War put a couple of repeat offenders in the hospital.
It was what they deserved, entitled little shits.
“Hey, Hustle,” he said, using my road name.
I’d earned it because I knew how to get things done, swiftly and with little mercy.
I worked under the Club’s Enforcer, Ballistic.
He was built like a tank and talked little, although he’d opened up to me, if more words and less grunts meant opening up.
It was well known I’d be his successor, and he worked closely with me to ensure I would be up for the task when the time came.
“How’d it go?” Casper enquired, leaning his elbows on the bar.
He’d been scrawny when he joined up, but now, a patched in member and an ammunition and explosive expert and a decent bar tender.
Casper was built, his heavy black tattoos even more noticeable on his translucent skin.
He wasn’t your friendly neighborhood ghost. He was a walking, talking firefighter’s nightmare.
“She’s here.” I rolled my eyes in response.
“There’s gonna be some kind of something from that.” Casper rapped his knuckles on the bar. He wasn’t close to her, but he knew Waverley and she’d always been kind to him.
“Nothing fucking good.” I drained half the bottle in one swallow. “King know we’re back?”
Casper laughed. Right, stupid question. King knew everything that went on here.
He will have seen us arrive on the cameras.
There was no sign of him yet. He wouldn’t be greeting his long-lost daughter with open arms, which wasn’t his style.
Plus, I suspected he knew the reaction he’d get, and it wasn’t something he’d want an audience for.
Expect her to fall in line though? Of course he would. He’d make her if he had to. It was going to be interesting watching that backfire.
“Well, shit,” Casper muttered, causing me to look up. “Little Princess grew up.” He eyeballed them as they walked in, and I saw the surprise on his face. He barely pulled his eyes away.
War strolled into the clubhouse, carrying the two bags Waverley stowed in her car.
She walked alongside War. I should have known she wouldn’t be meek, hiding behind her brother.
She looked fierce, and despite that permanent scowl she’d been wearing since we showed at her bar, Casper was right.
She’s fucking gorgeous. She always was, but her confidence and fuck you attitude heightened that. It pissed me off even more.
Her dark hair was long, reaching way down her back, even tied up in that messy ponytail. She’d looked hot the night before in her little club outfit. Today she was fresh faced and natural, albeit tired, but it took nothing away from her looks.
For years, she wanted to be a part of this. Fuck only knew why she spent so long trying. Women were kept around here for one reason and one reason only, and Waverley would never have that kind of role. She’d made it more than clear what she thought of the hang arounds.
Speaking of which, Tanya, one of the club whores, was making a beeline for me. I’d fucked her a lot recently, but I stayed away from the club girls. As much as it was a big part of the scene, fucking around with girls I know my brothers have been inside didn’t do it for me.
I’d made it known while she’s fucking me.
She isn’t fucking anyone else. It had nothing to do with feelings.
I’d made that clear. As much as I’d like to tell her it wasn’t happening tonight, I felt vindictive and angry, so I let her lean into me.
Her hand went around my neck as she licked at my throat.
My eyes were drawn to Waverley as she marched through the bar, the brothers all watching her. Some of them recognized her as the daughter of the Prez, knowing she was off limits, but the newer guys were staring with hungry, lustful looks.
War glared at each one of them. He’d kill anyone who touched his sister, or tried to, and that included me, after what went down before she left. Not that I planned to. That wasn’t in the cards for us.
I got to my feet, Tanya half dragged up with me. It was irritating how she clung to me, but I resisted the urge to shove her away. She would serve a purpose right now.
“Gimme a bottle of Jack,” I turned to Casper. He looked at me for a few seconds too long, so I snapped at him to hurry the fuck up. He passed me the bottle with a knowing look on his face. Fucking asshole laughed as I grabbed the bottle and turned away from him.
Another glance at War and his sister made a smirk lift my lip. She wore a look of disgust on her pretty face. By our usual standards, this was fairly tame, but I noticed Blade with his tongue in one girl’s mouth while another was bobbing her head up and down between his legs.
That was another thing I tended not to get into. I took girls to my room, not one to fuck in public, though I’d been sucked off at the bar a couple of times when I was younger and too drunk to know better.
Waverley’s eyes passed over Blade and I saw them widen in shock, spinning away from him. She said something and War glanced at her. She wasn’t impressed when he laughed at what she had to say and snatched one of her bags from him.
“Who’s that?” Tanya asked, glaring at Waverley.
Most of the girls didn’t like unfamiliar faces, particularly ones who look like Waverley.
She wasn’t dressed up in her skinny jeans and dark red college t-shirt, which looked as if it might belong to that prick groping her this morning, and her Chucks were brand new.
She was nothing like the hardened girls that hung around here, clothes barely covering their assess or containing their tits.
“No one,” I told her.
She leaned in further, pressing her tits into me, trying to stake her claim. I should push her away, no one claims me, but part of me wanted to hammer home to Waverley we’re not the kids we once were. She’s walking into the lion’s den and is right to think this place will make her sick.