Priest
Sitting on the back of my bike across the street from a cheap strip club named Euphoria, I watch patrons come and go for hours. The sun sets, and still I stay. Pulling out my pocketknife, I begin scratching the sharp blade across the inside of my wrist. Blood is a weakness of mine.
The heat of the thick crimson liquid calls to me like a siren. The slow roll of tiny beads dripping onto my black jeans when I tip my arm is hypnotic.
The only thing I want more is to carve into a little redhead with startling blue eyes. For five days, it’s the only thing I’ve thought about. Logan Callahan is nearly twenty years younger than Viking and me, but that doesn’t matter when you’ve spent your life fighting for everything you want.
She is what we want. Desperately crave in a sick way that would make others question our sanity. She’ll likely run, but fuck, will the chase be one hell of a ride.
I’ve been a member of the Kings of Anarchy MC for over a decade, and I’ve never asked for much more than to be a patched member and then a club officer. As Sergeant-at-Arms, it’s my job to keep the club safe, but focusing on security has been difficult since my eyes landed on Logan.
When I met her gaze, I saw so much more than a young woman looking for her sister. She houses dark demons, waiting to eat her alive, and I want to be the one to show her how to accept and embrace them. Eighteen might be her age, but she’s experienced what others haven’t, and it makes her wiser.
With Viking out on a solo hit for the last few days, my only mission has been following Logan. It’s funny because when our president and road captain brought their woman home, I thought they were fools. Now, here I am, almost a year later, and I’m obsessing the same way they do.
I blame them for it, too, the fuckers. Seeing them have the life they were born to dominate and the woman they can’t get enough of makes me think Viking and I can have the same.
For years, it’s just been the two of us, seeking something more. We didn’t know what for a long fucking time, and we’ve never spoken about it, but it’s understood that if we ever settle down, it’ll be with the same woman. Even recognizing that might never happen.
Oblivious of what I’ve done until a stinging sensation hits the pain sensors in my brain, I notice I’ve carved Logan’s name on the inside of my arm. This isn’t the first time I’ve been so lost in thought that I’ve not realized what I’ve done, and it likely won’t be my last.
My phone rings, so I put the knife away and answer, “What?”
“Someone’s grumpy,” Swamp snickers. “Need you back at the clubhouse. Trista’s going fucking crazy on her bitch of a mother, and neither are seeing reason.”
“Fucking idiots.” I hang up, unshocked. Trista has been crashing out since Logan’s appearance. The other whores have encouraged her to reach out to her mother, and I guess the woman of the hour decided to just show up.
With one last glance at the strip club, I rev my bike and take off for the compound. I wasn’t a fan of how Trista treated Logan, but who am I to get in the middle of their fucking drama? Having her mother here might change things.
From what I was able to get Swamp to dig up, Trista’s mom and Logan’s mom concocted the lie to keep the girls apart. Logan’s mother obviously didn’t keep her end of the deal, so I’m curious there, but they were kept apart, so the lie doesn’t really matter.
The stars brighten once I careen onto the dark road leading to the clubhouse—something I enjoy. It brings a peacefulness that we don’t experience in our day-to-day lives.
Swamp and Easy wait at the open gate for me, and as soon as I’m through, one of them closes it. I can hear the screaming from the front and crack my knuckles before entering the main building.
“You fucking lied to me, you bitch!” Trista tosses a glass at the older version of herself.
“That hussy and her bastard child deserved to die!” her mother screams back, holding up her arms to protect herself from another flying object.
Normally, I’d grab a drink, sit down, and watch the drama unfold, but they’re fucking talking about Logan like she’s not a fucking human being who hurts just the same as they do.
When the mother reaches for a chair, presumably to toss at Trista, I whip out my Glock and press the barrel into the back of her head while cocking it.
“You pick that up, and your brains will be spread across the room.” She freezes.
Trista smirks. “Don’t fucking do that, Tris.
This shit is your fault. You could have listened to the girl. ”
Her jaw drops, and her eyes narrow on me. “You want to fuck her. God, Priest, you sick piece of shit; she’s a kid.”
“Eighteen,” I smirk. Age means shit when you have the experiences of a forty-year-old.
“You’re old enough to be her father,” Trista tries again.
“Maybe she’ll call me Daddy while I’m balls-fucking-deep in that tight cunt.
” The bitch in front of me gags, so I press the weapon deeper into her skull.
“What I do with a consenting adult isn’t really anyone’s fucking business, though, is it?
What’s happening in my fucking clubhouse, however, that will earn my wrath and the ejection of the assholes killing my fucking vibe. ”
“Get rid of her, Priest,” Brute calls from the top of the stairs where the officer’s apartments are located. “Fucking cunts woke up Brody, and Fin ain’t feeling good.”
“Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. Don’t fuck with the queen around here, ladies.
Trista, find a fucking hotel for a few nights.
” She opens her mouth to protest until Brute storms down, grabs a chunk of her hair, and guides her outside, not so gently whispering a few warnings in her ear.
“You, mother golem,” I say next, “can get gone and never fucking come back, we clear? I see you again, and you won’t be leaving the property. ”
She spins, all aghast, fear written on her face. “You can’t just threaten to kill people!”
“Think I just did, and if you aren’t gone in the next five seconds, that threat is a fucking promise.
” Raising a brow, I begin counting, and she finally gets the fucking hint.
Rushing out and screaming at the same time.
“Prospects, make sure they don’t kill each other, and make it clear to Trista, she gets right, or she doesn’t come back. ”
I don’t need to witness their agreement to know they’ll do as I ask, because the silence speaks volumes as I head to the bar, and Amber hands me a glass of whiskey and a bottle of beer to chase it.
“They go at it long?” I ask, and she shrugs. I get it, she doesn’t want to betray her friend, but this was fucking bullshit.
“She’s been fighting with her over the phone for days.”
“Keep an eye on it. I don’t want any more of this shit around.” Amber nods and starts wiping counters as I walk away.
Brute waits for me in his office and waves me over when our eyes lock. “Got control of this shit now?”
“Hey, man, we let the girl go when Trista threw her first fit. Had no idea the mother was coming in hot.” Raising my hands, I shut the door before sitting in a chair across from him.
“Women have a way of holding onto crap like this,” he grumbles. “Logan still in town?”
“Working at Euphoria,” I respond. He whistles. “Yeah, not exactly thrilled with her choice.” But I can see why they’d hire her. She’s got curves in all the right places, an innocent aura surrounding her, and the most fuckable lips I’ve ever seen.
“You sound like you have a choice in the matter.” Fuck. I hadn’t meant to give myself away.
Shrugging, I dodge. “Viking should be back tomorrow. We still renovating Skinny Dick’s for your pops?”
Brute snorts but doesn’t call me on my shit. “Yeah, lumber and drywall is being delivered day after tomorrow. Prospects are helping Miami and Free tear shit apart.”
The building is the same as it’s been since it opened forty or so years ago, so it’s due for a reno, but we don’t trust any of the contractors around to do it.
“Great, we’ll be ready to help where needed. I have a job next week, should only take a night to do, then I’ll be back at it.”
Getting to my feet, Brute dismisses me, and I have the urge to go look in on Logan again.
Seeing that it’s after one in the morning, she’s likely at home now, so there wouldn’t be a point.
Instead, I shoot Viking a text, telling him we need to talk when he gets home.
There’s no response, which isn’t unusual.
After tossing my empty beer bottle into a bin, I head up to shower the filth of dealing with Trista and her mother off in a hot fucking shower while thinking about Logan on her knees with my cock between those thick lips.