Chapter 6 #2
When we first moved to town, we were met with a lot of resistance. I got it; a club full of outlaw bikers wasn’t what good, religious folk wanted on their doorstep, but we all had to co-exist, so the men worked hard to be respectful, help out when they could, and donate to the town.
It was working too. The locals’ suspicion of us was fading, and we were welcomed in the stores, coffee shops, and eateries now, but we still had a way to go. We needed this bullshit like we needed a hole in the head.
Castle’s lips thinned angrily. “I’ll ask Hank Young to come in for a meet.
We’ll explain a few things and get him to talk to a few key members of the community.
As long as we keep things on the down-low, we can control the narrative without Huntley knowin’.
We can also ask the townsfolk to keep a record of all the bullshit comin’ from law enforcement.
Help us keep our fingers on the pulse and our heads in the game. ”
I nodded, turning to Nox. “Call Roxanne. Tell her I need to talk.”
His face flushed red. “Can’t. She’s not talkin’ to me.”
Groans went up around the table, and Rodeo muttered, “Not again.”
“What the fuck did you do this time?” I demanded.
“She walked in when Saskia was givin’ me head,” he said sheepishly.
Wiki looked confused. “But Roxie’s not your ol’ lady. What does she care?”
“For fuck’s sake,” Castle grated out. “You assholes have lived the biker life for too long. Nice girls don’t wanna walk in on the man they’re seein’, gettin’ head from a bitch like Saskia.
Roxie’s not a club girl, and she didn’t sign up for that bullshit.
Civilian girls date to get married and push a couple of kids out. ”
“I’m single,” Nox said defensively. “I can do what I want.”
Castle shrugged. “No skin off my fuckin’ nose. Roxie’s our best dancer and a ten outta ten. Won’t take her long to meet someone who treats her the way she wants. If you don’t wanna keep your dick in your pants, cut her loose.”
“Don’t wanna cut her loose,” he clapped back. “I like her, but I don’t want an ol’ lady yet. I wanna do my own thing.”
“Then keep doin’ what you’re doin’, and you’ll get all the space you need. But don’t whine to me when she cans your ass for good. There’s only so much shit a girl like Roxie will take.” Veep shook his head, his lips thinning as his stare rested on me. “And how was your date last night?”
My head reared back. “What the fuck do you think this is? The fuckin’ Bachelor? You think my relationship is fodder for the goddamned masses?”
“Just askin’,” he returned. “Not like you to be absent from the club when there’s shit goin’ down.”
“I was five hours away when Boot called,” I argued. “Hardly a thirty-minute ride to the next town; plus, the roads were treacherous.”
“I get it,” he acquiesced. “And it got handled.”
My eyes narrowed on my VP, while my mind went over his words.
Castle knew exactly what to say to get under my skin. Letting the club and my brothers down were my biggest insecurities, and that fucker had scored a bullseye with his little dig. The more I argued with him, the more he’d know he’d gotten to me, so instead, I changed the subject.
I sat up straight before clapping my hands and rubbing them together gleefully. “Right then, boys. I think it’s time to go have a little chat with Junior. Who’s ready for some fun?”
Grins flashed, and a ripple of excitement went through the room along with a “Fuck yeah,” from Bootneck, who summed up how every man at the table felt when he grinned gleefully and crowed, “Time to bloody our knuckles.”
—————
The cave was an eight-by-eight-meter room with concrete walls and a floor that dipped into a concave. It was designed that way to allow for blood to trickle down and escape when we hosed the place after we’d pulled some asshole in to be dealt with.
One lightbulb hung from the ceiling, where directly underneath, Junior Huntley sat bloody and beaten while strapped to a metal chair under the eerie light.
He was naked except for his underwear, which wasn’t in good shape, and his chest—overly muscular from too many ’roids—heaved as he stared up at me with one eye swollen shut.
“My dad’s gonna fuck you up,” he spat, failing to curl his lip through the swelling around his weak-assed jaw.
I stared disdainfully at the dried blood that had collected at the corners of his mouth before pulling my arm back and landing a punch across his temple.
The little pervert’s head snapped to the side, and he let out a loud yowl.
I pulled my Glock from my cut and in one smooth motion, clicked off the safety before butting the muzzle against his temple. “You got somethin’ else to say to me, motherfucker?”
He froze.
“Thought not, you fuckin’ coward.” I clicked the safety back on my weapon and lowered it just as the door opened, and Castle dragged a loudly protesting sheriff in by the scruff of his shirt, followed closely by Nox.
Huntley blustered so damned much that it took a while for him to register where he was and that his asswipe son was in a whole world of hurt.
The sheriff was the worst kind of human in existence.
A small, entitled, power-hungry, pink-armed good ol’ boy who thought he was the big man in town but really was just a parody of himself.
It was no surprise that Junior had turned out to be a cowardly, abusive beta when I considered who his father was.
Working with them was the single most embarrassing thing I had ever had to do in my goddamned life, but I had to put my personal feelings aside for the sake of the club.
Our chapter had to make a living, and the only way we could do that was through illegal activities.
So we needed local law enforcement to turn a blind eye to our proclivities.
However, that symbiotic relationship also had to extend to the folk of Coal Creek.
We needed to keep them sweet if we were going to successfully operate our strip club and support our girls with carrying out their ‘extra-curricular’ activities safely and without hassle.
There was a line to be toed, and allowing the deputy sheriff to coerce a young local girl to fuck him was unacceptable.
Therefore, a point had to be driven home.
Castle threw the sheriff on the concrete, and the fucker rolled, letting out a yell. He heaved himself up onto his knees, then floundered to his feet, yelling, “What did you do to my boy?”
Lurching forward, the asshole tried to grab my shirt, but I side-stepped and landed an uppercut across his chin.
He went down like the sack of shit he was.
I crouched in front of the old bastard, grabbing his ear and twisting it until Huntley screamed.
Pulling his face up to meet mine, I rasped, “What have I told you about keepin’ your boy in check?”
The sheriff’s eyes narrowed.
“The perverted little cunt forced a young, decent girl to fuck him while threatenin’ her with recriminations from my club,” I informed him, studying his face for a reaction.
He didn’t bat an eyelash.
“You knew,” I spat.
Huntley’s eyes shuttered.
My eyes slid toward Castle, who looked like he was gonna hulk out any second. Veep was the man with a vested interest in Gracie Young, so it was only right that he got to dole out his revenge.
“Cut the bastard loose,” I ordered.
Castle moved toward Junior, drawing his knife from his cut before slicing through the straps holding the fucker down. He stepped back, watching Junior slump forward and spit blood onto the concrete.
Huntley blanched at the state of his son. “What the fuck is this, Sinclair? Did you just bring me down here to watch you beat on my boy?”
I brought my face down to his. “No, Huntley. I had to put your shit stain of a son on a time-out because he’s runnin’ around town actin’ like he’s a patched member of KOA.
We may work together, asshole, but I’ve told you to get him in hand.
Instead, you let him run riot, and now, he’s affectin’ my club’s rep, which I won’t tolerate seein’ as he’s a goddamned embarrassment.
What man terrorizes teenage girls? What man has to resort to threats to get his dick wet from a fuckin’ child? ”
“She’s eighteen!” he roared in my face.
“Yeah!” I spat, my voice deathly quiet. “A fuckin’ child.”
I swiveled my head and nodded at Castle, who brought up the knife high in the air before burying it in Junior’s thigh.
The second Junior’s screams filled the air, I turned back toward Huntley, pulled my head back, then cracked it forward onto his nose, my lips curling at his pained yell as blood flew from his face.
Castle grabbed Junior’s hair and dragged him to the floor, straddled his chest, then proceeded to punch the fuck out of his face.
Grabbing Huntley’s head, I made him watch Castle beat the shit out of his boy. The sounds of fists hitting flesh, grunts, and pained moans filled the room as I forced the sheriff to observe his pride and joy get beaten half to death for his sins.
I leaned down and rasped in Huntley’s ear, “You see that, motherfucker? I warned you what would happen if you didn’t get that spoiled cunt in hand when he grabbed my friend’s woman in my clubhouse and nearly started a fuckin’ riot.
This is your second warnin’. Get that little fuck sorted out, or there won’t be a third warnin’; I’ll deal with him permanently. Do you fuckin’ get me?”
He grimaced at Castle, who was systematically beating the fuck out of his boy. “Let him go. He needs a hospital.”
I shoved his head forward and barked one word. “Castle!”
My VP froze for a few seconds and then clambered back to his feet, staring down at Junior, who rolled to his side, coughing up blood and moaning in pain.
“Boot, organize some boys to come down and stretcher him to a cage,” I ordered.
“On it, boss,” my SAA replied and immediately made for the doors.