Chapter One #2
Inside, the chapel comprised the main room of the club. The pews were gone, replaced with worn wooden tables and chairs. The altar had been converted to a bar. The room was loud with music and chatter. Torch had ribs on the smoker, and there were side dishes lining tables near the pool table.
McKelle sat with Blue and Kiss. Brenna perched on Pike’s lap. Rogue crossed the room to join Blade at the president’s table with Dozer and Romeo.
Steele poured beer from the taps. I approached and leaned against the polished wood.
I had to admit, I’d felt a little sacrilegious when I’d smashed McKelle against the counter one night when we were alone in the clubhouse.
Then she’d screamed, “Oh, God,” and I figured I was already going to hell so what was another sin logged into my ledger of debauchery.
“Lili is with her mom,” Steele said. He had a little girl and was going through an ugly divorce.
Steele and I came into the MC about the same time.
Lucky bastard. He had his patch. Sometimes it was about who you knew, and he was in tight with Bullet.
Vega, Steele, and Kodiak were former Crawlers who did a solid for Bullet when he was looking to retaliate after their prez put a hit out on Blade and Rogue.
Bullet returned the favor by patching them into the Hellers.
Although I wouldn’t want to be Kodiak. Patched in, but already on probation.
The guy was nuts. He worked for Bullet. Good Girl Studios earned their name.
I couldn’t help cracking a smile. Kodiak claimed it was a tough job, but someone had to do it.
I’m not sure I’d call fucking former whores on camera a tough job.
Maybe for the girls. I’d heard stories about him. Huge dick, liked sex rough and messy, and didn’t give a fuck about rules. Not societies, and apparently not Blade’s. Hence the probation. And he still wore Heller colors. Now, I was sounding like a pussy.
“If you want to hang out for a minute, I can handle things back here,” Steele said.
“Thanks. Can I get a whiskey sour for McKelle?”
With the drink in hand, I made my way up to the pool table. McKelle already had a side hustle with Vega. He maneuvered around the pool table trying to find the best angle.
“You could use the three ball to sink the five.” McKelle pointed out the path on the table. She gave me a quick kiss as she took the drink from my fingers.
Vega laughed. “Good one. You could. Not me. I’d hand you the game.” He bent over the table and lined up his shot.
“I’m going to win regardless.”
He barely tipped his head to lift his gaze, and he smiled at her. “I’m not sure if I should be more scared of your game or your confidence.”
“Do you want to make a side bet?”
“Side bets are off,” I said. “She plays dirty.” And I was the only one she played dirty with.
“Don’t spoil my game,” she said to me.
“Now, I’m interested,” Vega said and laughed. “I already have twenty on the game.” Without a good shot, he tapped the three ball and set himself up defensively. He straightened. “What’s the bet?”
“I’ll call all my shots. If I don’t miss, you take a ride on the back of my bike.”
He grumbled with a smile. “I’ll pass.” He held up a finger. “One. I’ve seen you ride. Two.” A second finger lifted. “It ain’t a Harley.”
“Harleys are for criminally inclined—”
Kiss slapped a hand over McKelle’s mouth. “I love you too much to see you buried out back. Don’t insult a Heller’s ride.”
“Three.” Vega held up another finger and leaned closer. “Old ladies belong on the back of the bike.”
McKelle crossed her arms over her chest. “Good thing I’m not an old lady.”
“Four.”
“Here’s four,” she said and flipped him her middle finger. “Forget the bet. I’ll just take your twenty.” She lined up her shot. “Twelve in the corner.” The cue ball cracked against the twelve, spinning it into the corner pocket.
Vega laughed. “I’ll bet you the next round of drinks.” He glanced over to Blade and the rest of the board, then turned back to me. “Unless Cruz ends up buying rounds tonight.”
The coil of anticipation in my gut tightened. When a prospect sewed on his patch, drinks were on him. The MC was packed. If Dozer put me up for a vote, I’d be broke and in debt by morning, but happy as fuck.
Blade and the others disappeared into the boardroom. My knee jostled as my focus shifted between the closed door and the floor. I swallowed down the lump of insecurity lodged in my throat and turned to Blue. “Have you heard anything? You’re close to Bullet, and he’s tight with Rogue.”
“All anyone is talking about is Tank getting out of the country club.” His voice lowered. “I don’t think it’s going to happen for you tonight. Dozer isn’t thinking about your patch.”
Because I had shit examples of fatherhood growing up didn’t mean I didn’t get it. Tank getting out of prison was a big deal for Dozer and the MC. It just didn’t mean much to me. I wasn’t denying I could be a selfish prick. I proved it to McKelle a couple times a week.
I had a fuck-all attitude. Why wouldn’t I? I had a blank space on my birth certificate for a father and a stepdad that hated my guts. He proved it every day while I was growing up.
A ten-year-old kid wasn’t supposed to be competition.
I could handle being called a piece of shit, useless, and I could handle the whippings of the belt.
Not that I hadn’t earned a bit of discipline.
I’d been an angry teenager, too stupid to realize I gave him exactly what he wanted.
I think he would’ve killed me if he thought he could’ve gotten away with it. He’d laugh at my tears. Fucking prick.
The worst part. My mom knew. At first, she made excuses for him, but that only lasted until she had his kids.
The perfect fucking family. Then she decided he was right.
I was a piece of shit. To keep me from being a bad influence on my siblings, she moved me out of the house and into a shed in the backyard.
Fuck her. Not really. Fuck me because I loved my mom.
But fuck relationships and fuck family.
McKelle’s laughter caught my attention. She snatched the twenty-dollar bill from the pool table and headed my way just as Steele’s whistle pierced the air. I glanced at the bar, and he waved me over.
He’d been literal when he’d said a minute. “Time to work.”
“You’re going to need this,” McKelle said and slid the money into the front pocket of my jeans. “I have a feeling about tonight.”
I did, too. A familiar feeling of not being good enough. I jogged down the three steps to the main floor, crossed the room, and made my way behind the bar.
Steele tossed his dishtowel over the sink and left me alone to cover the bar. Blade and Dozer came out of the room smiling. “It’s official,” Blade said. “We just had a conference call with Willy. Tank is coming home.”
Dozer blinked, but his eyes still glistened with unshed tears. “About fucking time.”
Rogue wrapped an arm around Dozer’s neck, pulling him into an aggressive hug. “Our enforcer can lay down the new club rules with his old man. The student becomes the teacher, young grasshopper.”
Dozer playfully shoved him. “Fuck off.”
“Another one of your famous F-words.” Blade sat at the table and tipped his beer to his lips.
“One of many. Freedom sounds pretty fucking good.” Dozer headed for Pippa, slammed his lips onto hers, and kissed her dirty.
A minute later, the old ladies unveiled the tables of food. I guess that was it. No vote for my patch.
For the next couple of hours, I was their bitch, working the bar and doing dishes. Once the food was put away, the MC cleared out. This was my favorite time of night. Guys played cards in the corner. The sun was down, and cool night air drifted in from the open doors.
Hang-arounds had gone home. Fire still popped and crackled in the oil drum. Blue sat with Rogue and Bullet. Kiss and McKelle must have gone to either my room or Blue’s.
We both rented bedrooms in the back of the church. They were small and hot in the summer. We shared a bathroom with the entire clubhouse. But I’d lived in a backyard shed for two years. Nowhere had ever felt like home. This did.
I finished the last of the bar glasses, wiped down the counter, grabbed a beer, and sat with them.
“Good night?” Rogue asked with a cigarette bouncing between his lips.
I nodded. “Tip jar is full.” I angled the bottle to my lips and let the ice-cold beer slide down my throat.
“Listen, kid,” Bullet said. “We see you earning your colors. Your day is coming.”
I leaned my head back and guzzled half the beer. “As long as Dozer sees me putting in the work.”
Dozer only saw what happened in the MC. He didn’t know what I’d done for Blue and Kiss. But Bullet and Rogue did. My hands were stained with the blood of two dead bodies—Blue’s perpetrator and Kiss’s dealer. That had to count for something.
“I think Dozer has seen enough of you.” Rogue laughed, referencing the dick pic in Dozer’s phone.
“Not my fault,” I said, unable to keep the smile from my lips. “I pay my debts.” A game of truth or dare with McKelle had me sending a shot of my dick to Dozer.
“Speaking of dick pics,” Bullet said, leaning back in his chair.
“Jinx has this idea.” He smiled as he sipped his whiskey.
“Filthy fairytales. First one is Snow White and Seven Bikers.” He chuckled.
“She needs seven dicks on camera. Sort of a princess tied down to a bed getting fucked kind of thing.”
Blue choked mid sip and began to cough. Rogue slapped him on the back. “Fuck, Blue, he knows you aren’t up for the task.”
Tears from choking leaked from Blue’s eyes. “Is Jinx?”
Bullet smirked. “You’ve seen her work. She can handle seven.”
Blue used to provide security for Bullet’s girls while they serviced their clients. He called it therapy. But being around pussy all the time hadn’t fixed him. Still, Blue was in a good place with Kiss, the club, and working with the guys at the motorcycle shop.