4. Dre
I pulled up to the Savages’ clubhouse. The familiar sight of the weathered brick building brought a sense of relief to me, causing me to exhale a breath I didn’t even know I’d been holding. I killed the engine and helped Mercy off my bike, guiding her inside with my hand around her dainty wrist.
As always, the clubhouse was bustling with the regular activity—drinking, smoking, and shit-talking over games at the pool table now that the threat had been neutralized. At least for now. All eyes turned to me as we entered. My father stood overhead, waiting for me with a concerned expression.
“Come with me,” I muttered to her.
I led Mercy to my spacious bedroom at the back of the clubhouse. I gestured for her to sit on the bed. It was a sturdy queen-size sleigh bed with a dark wooden frame. The bedding was simple, including a slate gray comforter and matching sheets. At least I kept it made. I set my Glock on top of the small nightstand next to it.
“Stay here. Don’t leave this room.”
Mercy jerked her head forward in a nod, her brown gaze wide with uncertainty. I had to admit she had a beautiful oval-shaped face and naturally glowing caramel skin with a yellow undertone. Long, thick eyelashes sat over her cocoa-brown, almond-shaped eyes. Her thick, perfectly arched eyebrows and button nose framed her face perfectly, and her full lips had an inviting heart shape.
I dipped my chin before closing the door behind me and heading to my father’s office. The cold tension enveloped me as soon as I stepped inside. He was seated behind his large, dark mahogany desk in a worn, high-backed leather chair. There was a large, detailed map of the city in front of him, with strategic locations and territories we controlled.
The walls that enveloped us were lined with memorabilia of our club’s legacy—framed photos of our members, black and white images of some of my father’s favorite vintage motorcycles, and various plaques and awards.
“What the fuck were you thinking, Hellraiser?” he growled.
I took a deep breath, knowing I had to come correct.
“I was thinking about living up to my name, Prez. I couldn’t deal with the guilt if she’d gotten hurt. We both know what the Outlaws do to women, especially ones as beautiful as her. She’s a journalist, and she wants to write an article and expose them for sex trafficking women. This might be a blessing in disguise.”
My father’s brown eyes narrowed, a blend of frustration and understanding. “She’s your responsibility now. All you did was make her fate worse, especially if she writes that fucking article.”
I grunted while looking around at the heavy wooden bookshelves lined against the opposite side of the room. He wasn’t wrong. I knew the risks of exposing the Outlaws but also understood the importance of bringing their heinous crimes to light. I hated those bitch-made mothafuckas with everything in me and wanted nothing more but to see them fall, but there was no telling what kind of hell Mercy’s article would unleash.
A wave of anger rolled through me, causing me to storm out of the office. I stomped back to my room and pushed open the door. It thudded against the wall with a loud bang, startling Mercy. She’d transferred from the bed to my desk, scribbling furiously in one of my notebooks. She jumped before looking over her shoulder as I entered. Her eyes danced with determination.
“I’ve been writing down everything I saw at the Outlaws’ Den,” she urged. “Would you be comfortable going on record or at least letting me interview you about what you’ve seen regarding how the Outlaws treat women and the trafficking?”
I took a deep breath, quickly affirming my decision. “Look, I get it. You need a story, and you want to expose the Outlaws. But I can’t help you that way. I’m not a snitch.”
Disappointment flashed in her brown orbs.
“But I need evidence. Your statement could be crucial to?—”
I swung my head, my expression firm as I cut her sentence off at the knees. “I said no. It’s too fuckin’ risky, and I’ve already risked a hell of a lot behind your ass, all right?”
Her perfectly arched brows furrowed as she sighed.
“But this story needs to be told,” she protested. “I don’t see why you’re fighting me on this. I promise to keep your identity anonymous if you’re worried about that.”
“You think I’m worried about some lil fuckin’ article? This shit… this world is much bigger and darker than your pretty lil ass even realizes. It’s cute. But being cute won’t cut it here,” I growled, giving her the cold, hard truth.
Mercy smacked her full lips before she scoffed. “Whatever. I’ll finish it with or without you.”
“Listen up,” I barked, switching subjects. “Here’s how this shit is gonna go while you’re here. You’re my guest and under my sole protection. You’ll sleep in my room and not mess with or even interact with any other guys in the club. You understand?”
Mercy looked at me with a blank stare. “Whoa. Wait. I thought this was just for the night, and you’d take me back to my car in the morning.”
“We’re past the point of that now, gorgeous. Keep up.”
Her glare hardened as her expression clouded with fear and uncertainty. “What about my job? I’m on a deadline.”
I sighed, running a hand through my locs. My eyes darted over to her phone charging on my nightstand.
“Make up a lie or call in sick. Do whatever you have to do to buy your ass some time. I don’t know how long this will take to get the Outlaws off our backs. If I know them like I think I do, they’ll want to make a deal soon enough.”
Mercy nodded, slowly starting to understand the gravity of the situation. We’d put each other in difficult positions, and I hated how much she frustrated me, trying to fight me at every turn when I’d already said what I said. That shit made my dick brick up in my jeans. I really wanted to fuck all that back-talk and defiance right out of her. I hated that I couldn’t stop imagining smashing her fuckin’ pelvis and putting her ass through the fuckin’ mattress. I hated how much arguing with her made me fuckin’ want her. I hated how badly I wanted to hear the sound of her moan my name while I punished her fuckin’ pussy.
I was at a crossroads. On the one hand, the beast in me wanted to bend her over, tear off her clothes, and bury all ten inches of my thick dick inside her. On the other hand, I knew I needed to stay far away from her. Aside from the occasional MC groupie or two, I didn’t normally keep a woman around me like this, but there was something different about her. I couldn’t help but want to shield her from all harm and had no clue why.
I’ll never let Cannon or any other nigga lay a hand on her.
I left the room with haste, afraid of what I might’ve done if I remained in her presence. My legs didn’t stop until they’d propelled me outside. The night air was cool as I marched to my truck, lighting a blunt. The dark sky was dotted with a few stars, and the sound of crickets chirping competed with the loud thoughts racing through my head.
I leaned against the back and took a deep drag, watching the orange ember glow in the dark. I heard the familiar crunch of gravel and twisted my neck to see Ghost, our enforcer, walking toward me while lighting his own blunt. He stood next to me in silence, watching the smoke curling up into the sky, the scent of marijuana fusing with the night air.
Ghost broke his silence, his voice low. “Quite a fuckin’ scene tonight, huh?”
I grunted. “Did you get a final report from Doc? What’s the damage?”
“A few broken bones, a few bruises, but hey, nobody died.”
“Yeah.”
“What about you? How’d you make out?”
It was the first time I’d thought about myself all night. My world began orbiting around Mercy the moment I saw her walk into that fuckin’ bar. I looked down at myself, noticing the bloodstains on my shirt and a few open cuts on my hands from all the flying glass.
I shrugged. “I’m good.”
“And the lady?”
I tensed up at the mention of Mercy. “She’s good too.”
“I hope she’s worth it.” We traded silent glances before Ghost continued. “So, what’s our next move? The Outlaws will be looking for her, but you already know that.”
I exhaled a curl of smoke as I contemplated the situation. Mercy was a wildcard, and I was prepared to go all in.
“She said she had car trouble. Get with Blaze and have him ride out with a few prospects to find and haul her car back here so he can take a look at it. The sooner we get it fixed, the better.”
“And then?” he probed before pulling a long drag of his blunt.
I sighed. “I don’t know. Right now, my gut is telling me we need to watch and wait and let shit cool off. As long as she’s here at the clubhouse, she’s safe.”
Ghost nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation but still visibly on edge. He’d never been afraid to go to war, but he needed to know the who, the why, and the worth.
“Yeah, but for how long? The Outlaws may have eaten shit tonight, but you know those mothafuckas are ruthless. He knows you have her, and because you do, he’ll come for her, and when he does, we both know he won’t show restraint just because it’s you.”
I looked at Ghost, my expression unyielding. “He’s not going to lay a fuckin’ hand on her, all right? We’ll keep her safe as if she were one of our own. As far as Cannon goes, that mothafucka may be dumb, but he’s not stupid. He knows better than to step foot on our territory. Put the word out to everyone to stay alert. Have the prospects take shifts standing watch,” I ordered.
Ghost took another puff of his blunt, the orange glow highlighting the gritty look on his scarred, melanated face.
“Orders received, boss. We’ll watch her back. But if it comes down to it, we’ll end up doing a lot more than watching and waiting. We need a goddamn plan,” he urged.
I dipped my chin, appreciating his loyalty and readiness to go to war.
“If we have to go to war, then we go to war. No matter what, we won’t falter, and we won’t fail. We’re Savages, and we’ll get through this like we always do.”
We fell back into a meditative silence, the uncertainty of war suspended in the air, wondering when our enemies would choose to strike. The distant rumble of motorcycles was an ever present reminder of the dangers we faced, of the war I’d started all because of one beautiful fuckin’ damsel.