Chapter 2
Chapter
Two
WAR
I arrive in Las Vegas for the Three Kings’ Halloween party, that I was threatened into attending by the Pres’ Ol’ Lady, Harley. You do not want to mess with this woman— she will cut your balls off and feed them to you, or just kill you in the most painful way in one of her books.
My bike rumbles down the Strip, the lights shining off the black tank where my eagle sits, watching over me as I ride the roads of the country.
I have been a nomad for the Three Kings MC for eight years; not once have I wanted to settle down since my wife, Lilian, died. She was healthy one moment and gone the next.
After that, I felt like I was suffocating and needed to be out on the open road. My folks understood what I needed, but my in-laws hated that I left. They believed that I abandoned by wife, who was six feet under, and was not coming back.
She would not have wanted me to stay there if I was that unhappy, and believe me, I was fucking slowly dying a death that I wished would just take me.
From the day I put her into the ground, I swore that no other woman would tie me down. It was not worth the heartache of losing them when the time came, and it would fucking come.
Feeling love for a person, only for it to be ripped away, is like no pain I have felt before.
Every time I see one of my brothers fall for a woman, it makes my skin crawl, and I fucking hope that they do not feel what I have felt. Over the years, the pain has slowly dissipated, but I can still feel my wife in my heart.
My nightmares of losing her have now turned into dreams: ones of us together, but others are of us sitting in a tattoo studio getting matching tattoos of a saying. The words always reverberate in my mind for days after I have that dream.
That is why I keep women at arm’s length, or just the length of my dick. I fuck women and move on before they ask for more.
It’s easier that way—keep the strings loose, the ties frayed.
The open road is my only companion these days, asphalt stretching beneath my wheels, taking me anywhere it wants. I don’t apologize for how I live. Each bar I roll into, each nameless motel, each quick fuck in a dingy room, is nothing more than a waypoint on my journey to anywhere I please.
Truth is that the loneliness makes you numb, and this is why I get called back to Vegas— so I get the familiarity of the brotherhood before I forget what it feels like.
I have no expectations, just the hum of my engine and the wind tearing at my jacket. That’s all I need in my life, but I get why my club brothers want to check on me, so I give them this. A few days here and there just to show them that I am still alive.
Some people have called me cold, broken maybe, but they don’t know what it’s like to have your whole world buried in the ground. So I ride, I keep moving, and if the rest of the world can’t handle that—well, that’s not my problem. I choose the road, every damn day.
The clubhouse comes into view, and I smile, seeing the huge motherfucking gates, and the lights that shine behind it.
“War, long time no see, man.” I smile at the prospect on the gate.
He just started prospecting the last time I was here, so he must be close to patching in.
“Harley dragged me back for this Halloween party.” I smirk.
He chuckles. “No one can say no to Harley, man. Have fun tonight. Some fucking hotties are due to arrive later tonight, thanks to VP’s Ol’ Lady.”
“That’s the plan.” I wink. The gates grind open, and I ride through.
My gaze lands on the row of bikes that are polished to perfection, sitting under the awning that the club had built so that the paint does not get damaged by the sun.
Something settles in my chest as I stop, taking in the sight before me.
I park up, planting my feet on the ground, and switch off the engine, looking at the clubhouse. It has been months since I have been here, but some things have already changed.
“Look what the cat dragged in.” I smile hearing a familiar voice.
Turning to the side, I see Smoke leaning against a pillar, with a wide grin on his face.
“Brother, how have you been; that Ol’ Lady of yours keeping you in line?” I ask, as I approach him.
His eyes brighten at the mention of his woman, Taya. A pang hits me in the chest like it always does, but I dampen that fucker down.
“I am still here, ain’t I? She would feed me to her damned pigs if I pissed her off enough.” We hug, hands slapping on backs, the full man-hug thing.
“True.” Taya owns a pig farm with her brothers, and her father was also a big part of her life until he was gunned down by some rich prick who thought he could have Taya and take over her land.
“Harley said that you would be stopping by, after she threatened your balls and something to do with liquid metal.” He shrugs as my balls shrivel up into my body.
I cup my crotch, making him laugh. “She is fucking creative, I will give her that.”
“Brother, she is the one selling millions of biker books with death and sex in them. She wrote a scene last week after catching Jericho fucking one of the club girls on a sex swing, only the girl fucking died in the book from being strangled by the fucking swing ropes,” he explains as we walk inside and out of the Nevada heat.
Shaking my head, I take in the room and all its transformation.
Black cloths and webs hang all around the room, mixed with white, orange, and purple twinkling lights. It looks like Halloween threw up in here but with a tasteful gothic vibe to it.
No one is in their costume yet, because it is hours before the party starts, so I get to wash up and maybe have a fucking nap before the festivities begin.
“War, good to see you, brother,” Locke calls when he sees me.
“When Harley calls, you come running, right?”
He laughs. “True. I want you to meet my Ol’ Lady, Lottie. Baby, this is War. He is a club nomad.”
I lean in to kiss her cheek. The last time I came here for a visit, she was out of town on some book thing, so it is about time I put a face to the name.
“Nice to meet you, Lottie.” She smiles up at me, curling into her man’s side.
“Same. I hope you brought a costume with you, War. Harley went all out for this party and will not take it well if some of the brothers do not dress up,” she says.
Shrugging, I tell her, “I have my costume; do not worry that pretty little head of yours.” I wink, making her giggle.
“Fucker, get your own woman; stop winking at mine.” Locke pulls Lottie closer to him.
She looks up at him, love pouring out of her eyes as she takes in her man. Locke leans down, kissing her, and l watch as my brother claims his woman’s mouth.
Someone whistles from across the room, causing Lottie to giggle and break the kiss. Locke flips whoever it was off.
“The club girls made a room up for you, second floor. We are a little packed tight right now; Harley sent a mass invite, and every fucker and their dog turned up.”
“All in good need for the club, brother. Everyone knows that we work hard so we party harder. I am going to take a hot shower; these old bones are not as forgiving as they once were, then I am going to nap.”
“You are not that old, War. I bet you have women dropping to their knees for you.” Lottie snickers.
“Oh, darlin,’ I am plenty fucking old. Forty-one is no joke when riding across the country.”
“Forty-one? Wow, I thought you were mid-thirties at most, honestly,” she replies.
“Good one stroking that fat ego, Lotts,” Smoke jokes.
“Man, I love your woman.” I nudge Locke’s shoulder as I walk past.
“Rest up, brother. Tonight will be a fucking blast,” Smoke calls after me.
I wave my hand above my head in acknowledgment, and head to my room. A hot shower and a nap sound like fucking heaven right now, because my bones feel tight, and the feeling that something is about to happen seeps deep.