Chapter 2
Dante
I laughed as Rachel gave a panicked little squeak and then disconnected the phone. I could almost picture her frantic expression, and it was enough to make my dick hard.
I always loved it when she felt helpless. Did that make me slightly sick? Of course it did. But I didn’t care.
“Well…” Shark said, his cheeks expanding as he blew out a breath. “She sounds—”
“Fucked?” Vienna finished for him.
“Panicked. I was going to say panicked,” he snapped back.
I rolled my eyes, knowing Shark and his old lady, Jenna, had always had a soft spot for Rachel.
Especially with Rachel and Jenna’s ridiculous “sin” bullshit they had going for a while there.
Jenna still tried to keep it up and running, especially as there were a few new old ladies in the mix, but she lacked the same enthusiasm she had when Rachel was around.
Oh, look. Another thing she’s ruined, I thought to myself, adding that to the list of Rachel’s crimes.
“It’s nothing she didn’t bring on herself,” Hacksaw shrugged. “She’s not really left us much choice.”
Shark wisely kept quiet, although the look on his face said he was anything but in agreement.
“Everything in place?” I asked Vienna, ignoring the other conversations. They weren’t important right now.
I looked around at the men—some of my own, some members of our Scottish charter. Who technically belonged to me, too, but they had their own president that they listened to on a day-to-day basis. The Leeds charter was the founding group, but the expansions were separate clubs in their own right.
We were sitting in their Church room, the ultimate sanctuary for a biker.
Other than being on the road, this was the place where we could truly be ourselves.
Prospects were permitted into meetings on our say so, but other than those, no unpatched members could stay within these walls.
Which meant anything said within Church, stayed within Church.
“Everything is as it should be.”
“And she’s doing exactly as expected?”
“Throwing her clothes into a bag as we speak,” Vienna nodded.
Vienna was my right-hand man. My vice president. Alone, we were dangerous. Together, we were unstoppable. Much like Crash and Zach before us, we were a force to be reckoned with, and we had already made significant changes to the way the club was run.
“Is this necessary?” One of the Scottish men asked. I lazily cast my eyes in his direction and noticed the tag on the front of his cut identifying him as “Bagpipes.”
Well, that’s original!
Biker nicknames were optional, and were usually given by your fellow brothers.
Vienna was given his name when he was caught singing the song by Billy Joel way back in high school.
Shark was given his name because he makes the charcuterie boards for poker night, and Hacksaw, because he’s damn good at hacking the police databases, as well as being handy with a saw.
“With all due respect, brother,” Vienna said with a scowl. “You don’t know the history here.”
“Maybe if we knew—”
“On a need-to-know basis, I’m afraid,” Vienna shrugged, interrupting him with an easy smile. He had been the peacemaker before Crash’s death brought forward his promotion. But he had been in that role for so long, it was hard for him to discard it completely.
“Rachel took something that belonged to me. I want it back. That’s all you need to know.
Or are you happy to continue to disrespect the president of the original charter?
” I asked, raising one eyebrow. Bagpipes shrank back in his seat, shaking his head.
“Good. That’s settled then. What time do we leave? ”
“Give it an hour,” Hacksaw said, looking down at his phone. “Looks like she’s still packing.”
I grinned at his words. “Well, brothers,” I said, looking around the room, stubbing my cigarette out in the ashtray and picking up the gavel. “I guess we fucking ride in an hour.”
Run, my little kitten. Run. Because rest assured, I will catch you, and I will make you regret every one of those days you denied me my son.