Chapter One. #2
I stormed out of my office and headed for the man who stood there looking down his nose.
“What do you want, Wylde?” I snapped without a by-your-leave.
“Need to speak to your girl,” he retorted.
“Which one?”
“Storm,” Detective Hayden Wylde replied. His aura of calmness made me want to smack him. I hated this guy.
“Get Storm,” I snapped at a prospect. Ace, Cyber’s apprentice, took off immediately as I turned back to my latest inconvenience. “What’s this about?”
“That’s mine and Storm’s business,” he answered as he looked around the clubhouse. His gaze rested on a whip, and his eyes slightly widened.
“See something you like, detective?” I purred, and Wylde smirked. I gritted my teeth silently together. Nobody could get under my skin like this raging asshole.
“You’ll never know,” Wylde murmured. His eyes ran over me, and I knew what he was seeing.
I stood at five feet seven inches with long, brunette hair that fell in waves.
I had dark brown eyes, rosebud lips, and high cheekbones.
Yeah, I was fuckin’ stunning, big deal. I was also slender, narrow-waisted, with reasonable tits and ass.
Men drooled over me, and I was bored to death with them.
For three years, I’d been looking for something to make my pussy sit up and clap. Why the hell Hayden Wylde did that, I didn’t know, but I wasn’t going there—not with a cop.
“What’s up?” Storm asked as she walked into the rec room.
“Storm, I need a word,” Wylde said.
“What?” she asked, dropping into an armchair. Wylde glanced at me, and Storm waved a hand. “Whatever you need to say, Wylde, it can be said in front of Sapphire.”
“Do you remember a kid called Miles Fox from your past?”
“I broke his nose, so I hope so,” Storm said, suddenly sitting up—alert.
I was also on guard.
“Seems Fox didn’t learn his lesson. He’s spent time in and out of juvie and has done several sentences for assault and battery.
Fox has just been released for the fifth time, but he made some comments to his cellmate.
Somehow, Fox has decided you’re the one to blame for his bad run of luck and was talking about taking a hit out on you,” Wylde said.
Storm blinked. “Say what?”
“Fox has decided that all his badness comes from the fact that a girl broke his nose. You.”
“He broke my baby brother’s arm, and he’s bitching?” Storm flared up, her eyes clouding.
“Ain’t arguing facts, Storm. My concern is that a local cop in Nevada contacted me from where Fox just did his last stint. He warned me that it’s possible a hit was put out on you. I’m here as a warning.”
“Warning given and heard, Wylde, thanks,” Storm replied, seemingly unbothered.
“Storm, you need to take this seriously.” Wylde had an edge to his voice. “Fox has become the type of asshole, he’s bad news.”
“Detective, thanks for the warning, but we’ll take it from here,” I said, interrupting.
“Fine! I warned you,” Wylde said and stormed out. My eyes followed him, lingering on his ass.
“You’re hot to trot for him,” Storm teased, but I saw the worry she was trying to hide.
“Sure, can you see a cop living this life?” I asked and waved my hand. Storm smirked, and I sat down. “How worried are you?”
“Enough that I’m going to call Soul. He needs to know Fox is out, even though he’s not been a blip on our radar.”
“Soul might want you to go and stay at the RBMC,” I replied.
“Yeah, as if I’d be any safer there. We’re as strong as them, it’s why Warden respects us but doesn’t push us to join him. A war between us would end in a stalemate,” she laughed.
“I don’t know. He has Vogue with her pyrokinesis,” I mused.
“And we have Sparrow, who will teleport them all to the middle of the ocean,” Storm said.
“Damn true.”
We both snickered at the thought of Sparrow doing that.
It wouldn’t be the first time she had. Sparrow’s skills had developed into teleportation, something she discovered by accident.
She’d been at a warehouse with our cargo when the cops raided it.
In a panic, she wished the cargo back home, and it disappeared.
It was easy to imagine my shock when suddenly all these crates appeared out of nowhere in the clubhouse.
Sparrow had avoided arrest simply by teleporting all the evidence here.
The police had nothing to hold her on. Since that event four years ago, Sparrow had been transporting the lots psychically from our warehouse to the receiver abroad.
She merely concentrated, and poof, they disappeared from here and arrived there.
Okay, it wasn’t just concentration; she’d spend the following day recovering.
Still, the teleportation was a nice bonus.
It cut out a lot of shit and stopped us from risking necks by delivering by hand.
“What do we do?” I asked Storm.
“Just keep an eye out, that’s all we can do. If Miles Fox is stupid enough to come after us here, he deserves what we rain down on him,” Storm replied, not looking too bothered.
I nodded but made a note to get Belladonna to put a psychic tracker on Storm. If Fox came for Storm, he was in for a shitload of hurt.
The clubhouse door opened, and three of our stable entered.
Most male MCs had female club sluts/whores/bunnies; they were all the same, no matter what you called them.
They were there to service the brothers whenever they wanted sex, and in exchange they got free housing, food, and an allowance. They also created plenty of drama.
When I opened the club here, we searched for men to do the same.
Strangely enough, it hadn’t been hard to find volunteers.
It was most men’s dream, a harem of women who wanted to sleep with them with no strings attached.
Belladonna had earned a damn holiday after wading through several hundred male minds trying to find those we preferred.
We had a criterion and weren’t going to deviate from it.
Naturally, we wanted good-looking men; fit and muscled helped.
But we craved loyalty, honesty, respect, the ability to keep one’s mouth shut and self-respect.
We also didn’t want men whose egos would try to take over our club or look down upon us.
We looked for those who needed a position, not just for getting laid.
Anyone could fuck, but we were offering more.
To be in our stable, men would have to clean, cook, do chores, and have sex whenever any of us desired it.
They had to understand that we didn’t belong to them; they belonged to us.
Of course, not a single one of us would force them to have sex, but saying no was frowned upon.
We had ten men in our stable, and they all had monthly check-ups to ensure their sexual health was good.
And they had to wrap up. None of us wanted a pregnancy.
The guys we’d taken in weren’t wimps or cowards. They each had their own reasons for being here, and they knew they could walk at any time. The three walking in were incredibly popular with my sisters.
Blue, Maverick, and Cass all held bags of groceries and were chatting amongst themselves as they entered. They paused when they saw Storm and me, hesitating.
“Want us to leave?” Blue asked, clearly picking up that something was wrong.
“You’re good. Actually, keep an eye out for a strange male hanging about. A threat was made to a sister. If you see anyone, let us know, and if a Miles Fox approaches you, get the hell away,” I warned them. The guys needed to know, too.
“Not a problem,” Maverick replied. I liked that. They were happy to defer to us. All of them could hold their own; we’d witnessed that during fight night. If they couldn’t, we soon made sure they had lessons in how to.
“Got a pic, Prez?” Blue asked.
“Storm?” I asked.
“I’ll get Cyber on that. It won’t hurt us to know what Fox looks like after all this time,” she replied.
Cass held Storm’s gaze. “Need anything?” he asked, and she shook her head.
“I’m good, Cass. Don’t worry.”
I liked Cass; he’d been here the longest and knew how the club worked. He was protective of the sisters and would often defend us to anyone who slated us. But he didn’t overstep the line.
“No probs,” Cass replied and made his way towards the kitchen with Blue and Maverick on his heels.
“Get me that picture,” I said to Storm and headed back to my office.
Every Monday was report day. I scrolled through the various reports from our businesses, looking for losses or any issues that might arise. Mondays bored me in general, but I did enjoy seeing our hard work pay off.
These would have already been through Fortune, and she would have highlighted any concerns, which saved me a load of time.
I was the only one in the group who didn’t run a business.
My time was taken up with running the club, overseeing our various businesses, and creating new opportunities.
We liked money, liked it a lot. If we wanted to go out and buy something, we could, as simple as that.
Sadly, though, the majority of us hoarded our wealth.
Bitter times and harsh lessons learned in childhood had taught us all things we’d never forget.
My sisters knew hardship and swore never to experience it again.
Hell, most of us even had multiple bank accounts, so we didn’t have all our funds in one place.
Banks could go bankrupt, and we didn’t plan to risk losing everything.
Even the club money, once processed, was split over several accounts. No, my sisters wouldn’t know poverty from now on. I didn’t care what I had to do to ensure that, but they’d live their lives as they wanted. Simple.