Chapter 2
Blayke
“What the fuck is going on?” I asked when I made my way out of the hall my room was located down.
I’d just finished packing. Despite Johnston’s orders to pack the night before, I couldn’t be fucked to do so and put it off until this morning.
Besides, when church had rolled around, Johnston still hadn’t heard anything from Alejandro, so I knew I had time to get my shit together.
“Some woman is on the lot. She demanded to speak to Johnston,” Aaliyah said, not even trying to hide the fact that she was watching. She had the blinds open and the fucking window pushed up so she could hear every word being said.
I snorted. “Eavesdropping?”
She scoffed. “Of course, I fucking am. Who would I be if I didn’t? Some random woman is trying to talk to my man.”
I laughed because she wasn’t wrong. Aaliyah was the queen of this entire club for a reason.
Even if Johnston did have a problem with her being nosy, he more than likely wouldn’t say a fucking thing to her.
Hell, I’d place money on it that the woman could shoot him, and he’d more than likely thank her. She got away with everything.
Walking to the clubhouse doors, I opened them up, then stepped outside. The sky was thankfully overcast because I’d forgotten my shades inside my room.
I fucking hated having to squint. It gave me a headache.
Johnston was shaking his head at the short, tiny woman standing in front of him.
She was standing beside a gray and black Ducati Panigale V4, and her arms were crossed over her nearly flat chest as she glared up at Johnston without a hint of trepidation in her stance.
Her shoulder-length pink hair was a mess from the wind, no doubt, and it looked like she’d traded her helmet for a backward ball cap.
She was easily the hottest fucking woman I’d ever laid my eyes on. A woman who could stand toe-to-toe with one of the most dangerous men I’d ever known and not even bat a fucking eye?
Goddamn, my dick was hard.
“You know shit doesn’t work like that in my club?” Johnston asked her, clearly agitated. “You don’t just come up here and demand an opportunity to prospect. And women don’t have a place in this club, girly. Ain’t got time for your soft-hearted bullshit.”
“Girly? Who the fuck you callin’ girly?” she snapped at him, straightening her spine.
I grinned. Oh, she was fucking trouble, and damn if I didn’t want to know just how much trouble she was.
“I’ll rip your intestines out through your mouth and shove them up your ass since they’re obviously located in the wrong part of your body with all that shit comin’ out of your mouth. ”
I shoved my hands in my pockets as I slowly made my way toward them, a grin stretching my lips as I watched the pink-haired spitfire rip Johnston a new one.
The only person I’d ever seen stand up to Johnston was Aaliyah, and that was really because he let her.
This woman was either fucking stupid or incredibly brave.
Hell, maybe she was a mix of both.
“You think running your fucking mouth will even get you a foot in the door with me?” Johnston snapped at her, clearly angry now. “I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but you can get the fuck off my goddamn lot with that bullshit.”
Her upper lip curled in disgust at him. “You really thought you were going to stand there, spout that sexist ass bullshit, and I would remain silent about it?” She snorted and shook her head. “Your elevator doesn’t go all the way to the top, does it?”
I had no fucking clue who this woman was, but I wanted to keep her. Like a shiny new toy, I wanted to own her.
Johnston took a threatening step toward her, but I rushed forward, quickly intercepting him.
Clearly, shit had gone on long enough. I pressed my hand to his chest and pushed him back a step.
“Okay, clearly you two do not get along,” I said, my amusement clear in my voice.
I patted Johnston’s chest. “Go take a breather, man. Let me handle this. I’ll meet you in the chapel in a few minutes, yeah? ”
He cast the woman one last pissed-off look, then turned on his heel, storming toward the clubhouse, his boots crunching over the gravel. I turned to face the woman and smiled at her. Holding out my hand, I said, “Blayke. I’m the VP.”
She shook my hand, and damn, I loved the way her smaller, slender fingers felt wrapped around my much bigger, scarred hand. I easily dwarfed her, but she had a huge personality that made her seem much bigger than she actually was.
And I was fucking here for it.
“Noah,” she told me, then looked around me at Johnston’s retreating back. “Is he always such a fucking douchebag?”
I smirked. “Yeah. It’s his entire personality.”
She snorted. “Is his old lady right in the fucking head? I’d shoot myself if I ever married a man like that.”
I laughed. “Aaliyah has that man by the balls.” I jerked my chin toward the clubhouse. “Come on inside. Grab a beer since you don’t seem like the type to drink those girly, fruity drinks.”
“Heeeey,” Geek complained from where he was standing by the open door. He frowned at me as we made our way closer. “I happen to like girly, fruity drinks, asshole.”
I clapped him on the shoulder. “Not surprised, brother.” I jerked my chin toward the bar. “Go on and take a seat. Aaliyah will grab you a beer. Hell, she’ll probably keep you company, too. I’ll go see if I can talk some sense into Johnston.”
She made a sound that was a mix between a snort and scoff as she moved away from me and toward the bar. “Good luck. He’s a fucking pig.”
Aaliyah barked out a laugh as she made her way toward the fridge.
“He grows on you,” Aaliyah told her as I forced myself to rip my eyes from Noah’s slender body to make my way to the chapel.
My eyes still managed to wander back to her though, and it was a miracle I didn’t walk right into a chair or table.
Johnston was sitting at the table rolling a blunt when I pushed the door to the chapel open.
He glanced up at me when I stepped inside, then quickly refocused back on what he was doing.
I shut the door behind me, blocking out the rest of the clubhouse.
Rounding the table, I dropped into my chair and arched a brow at him.
“So… why don’t we allow women into the club, exactly?”
He grunted. “They’re too fucking soft, Blayke. They can be hardasses all they want, but when it comes to putting someone down, no matter who they are, can they be trusted to do that?”
“Would you trust Aaliyah to?” I countered.
He remained silent, but the look he cast my way warned me I was treading on thin ice.
I back-pedaled. The last thing I wanted to do was piss him off to the point he sent Noah riding off into the sunset.
I wanted her around. I wanted to give her a chance.
My reasoning behind that was purely selfish, but I also thought she might be a good edition.
How many men did we have sitting at this table every fucking morning that could say they’d stood toe-to-toe with Johnston fucking Trimm?
Not many.
“Look, brother, she could be a good edition. She clearly isn’t easily spooked. Most other men here would’ve backed down when you started losing your shit, but she didn’t even budge.”
“Probably just fucking stupid,” he muttered, lifting the blunt to his lips and grabbing his lighter from his pocket.
“Possibly,” I agreed. “But I think there’s bravery there, too.
And I don’t think it would hurt to give her a chance.
Anyone coming here asking to prospect has seen some shit, brother, and you know that.
We all have.” Hell, my mother had been a damn good woman, but my dad had been a fucking abusive piece of shit.
I was sixteen when I put a bullet through his skull after I found him raping my mom.
Johnston had caught me trying to get rid of his body and had helped me. And then, he’d given me the number to his burner phone and told me to call him if I needed a place to belong.
Back then, Johnston had just been making a name for himself. He’d still been trying to build the Satan’s Worshippers MC. I’d called him a week later, and together, we formed the club, making it into what it was today.
Johnston was quiet for a few minutes. I let him have his time to think and used my pocket knife to clean the dirt from beneath my nails. Finally he sighed and put out his blunt with the tips of his fingers before setting it in the ash tray.
“You really think she can be valuable?” he asked me. “You’re not just looking to get your dick wet?”
I scoffed. “I’m always looking to get my dick wet, Johnston.” He rolled his eyes at me. “But yeah, I think she can be valuable. Something about her tells me she’s someone we want on our side.”
He grunted and pushed back from the table, then pointed a finger at me. “Then she’s your problem, Blayke. She’ll go with you to Mexico. If she does well and can hold her own down there, then you and I can discuss patching her in when you get back. If we agree, then we’ll bring it to the table.”
Standing from my own seat, I pocketed my knife and nodded once. “Understood, Prez.”