Chapter Two.
Falcon
I left the physiotherapist’s office in a dark mood.
The bitch had been nothing but rude from the moment she took my name to when she said bye.
I’d ignored offering a goodbye back. PT Skye Golding could choke on my dick before I’d be polite.
Skye had snapped and snarled the entire way through the meeting.
While she’d been entirely professional when examining my shoulder, Skye’s attitude sucked.
I knew for sure I’d not fucked her and walked away—although in appearance Skye was my type.
But Skye’s behaviour made her completely unattractive.
I was also in a mood myself. Nova had flown out, and I felt her trepidation.
I’d had a quiet word with Steel, and he’d agreed to watch over her.
Even if Nova wasn’t an old lady, my twin was a Rage princess, and we’d take care of her.
Moodily, I headed towards my Harley and just reached it when I heard bike pipes.
I turned and saw three unfamiliar bikers riding down the street.
Their patches declared them to be the Notorious Princes MC.
I straightened as they caught my eye. No emotion crossed their faces as they closed in, wearing colours.
That was an outright insult. They’d not applied for permission to ride in Rage territory and should have removed their cuts. The assholes were making a statement.
Arms folded, I stepped forward and sneered. I wasn’t afraid of them. The lead biker caught the sneer, and a flicker of annoyance crossed his face. Confrontationally, he turned his hog and steered towards me. Stubbornly, I refused to move as he skidded to a stop.
“Got balls, kid,” he declared and cut his engine. His name patch said Regent.
“It’s Veep, if you can’t read,” I replied, and anger flashed across Regent’s expression.
“Throwing down? In public? Three against one. You got a suicide wish?” he demanded.
Unbothered, I shrugged. “What’s your business here? And I’m politely asking you to remove your colours. You don’t have permission.”
I was being confrontational and knew it. But these guys were riling me up. Notorious Princes were based in Jamestown, North Dakota. They might have been riding through, but they were well off route. Still, protocol needed following.
“Kid, that hasn’t got shit to do with you, and I ain’t fuckin’ removing my cut.”
“Asshole, you’re in Rage MC territory, and I’ve every right to ask. You don’t answer, then I’ll handle your disrespect.”
Regent laughed and waved a hand. He dismounted his bike.
I was tall, but he was taller, wider, and overconfident. Regent saw a young man; however, I was anything but.
“Fuckin’ spic. Gonna run to Mommy and Daddy?
” he muttered and swung. I caught Regent’s fist, and within a few moments he was on his back with a dislocated arm.
Regent bellowed loudly, and his two brothers climbed off their bikes.
Khan attacked first and was knocked unconscious twenty seconds later.
Crater ended up with a wrenched knee, and to top it off, I choked him out.
I crouched down next to Regent, who was glaring hatefully.
“You showed deliberate disrespect to my club. Because we’re young, you think we’re easy pickings.
Lesson number one, I’m Falcon Blackelk, Native American, not Hispanic.
Two, you just fought the world Ju-Jitsu champion.
Three, I don’t need Mommy and Daddy to hold my hand—I’m deadly enough.
Four, you spat in Rage MC’s faces, and we don’t take kindly to that,” I hissed.
Before they could react, I yanked a knife from my boot and slashed through their colours. “These belong to Rage; spoils of war. If you want them back, get your Prez to call mine. Don’t be surprised if Calamity tells him to get fucked,” I stated.
A car pulled in, and I looked up to watch Sheriff Cates getting out. I shoved the blade away and stepped backward, hands held high.
“Lower them, Falcon. Dispatch received numerous calls about these guys, and we were already coming. I’ll review the footage at the station; you can make your own way there,” Cates said.
“Thanks, Sheriff, I’ll ride over now,” I replied, appreciating Cates wasn’t arresting me. A grin crossed my lips as she began Mirandizing the Notorious Princes. I sent a quick message to Calamity and headed for the sheriff’s office.
A couple of hours later, I walked out, cleared of any charges.
What the surveillance had shown was self-defence.
The Notorious Princes were pissed. They were unaware of the town’s security.
When we’d moved here, there’d been only three cameras in play.
We’d donated a shitload and helped make the town more secure.
One had caught Regent and friends starting shit with me.
They were currently handcuffed in jail after having been treated in hospital.
Apparently, their lawyer was en route. I was pressing charges, and I still had their colours. Fuck them. Notorious Princes now owed us restitution.
“You took their patches?” Calamity asked as I walked into his office with Ghost and Texas on my heels.
“Yup. They refused to leave or remove their cuts.” I explained what happened as the other two nodded.
“Any club would have done similarly,” Texas stated.
“Assholes think we’re weak,” Calamity replied thoughtfully. “We’ve got the National Chapter, Hellfire, and Unwanted Bastards, Devil’s Damned Disciples, Fallen Warriors in our corner. I reckon they are aware we don’t have Rider’s of Vengeance, Satan’s Warriors, and the Devil’s Scythe.”
“Don’t forget Hawthorne’s, Delta Force, and the Juno Group—and Spike across the border,” Texas added, and I shook my head.
“They don’t count. They’re not an MC. Notorious Princes won’t recognise them,” I stated.
“No, they won’t,” Ghost agreed.
“What’s our next move?” Texas asked.
“We wait. They’ll want those colours back. Thief, their Prez, will reach out, and it’ll cost their club,” Calamity said.
“Okay,” Texas replied, and walked out with Ghost on his heels.
“Damn, I expected pushback from him,” Calamity admitted, rubbing his face.
“Texas?”
“Yup. I can’t figure the fucker out. At home, Texas is a total asshole, but here… he’s deferential.”
“Maybe because Texas trusts you as Prez but not as his son-in-law?” I suggested.
Calamity scowled. “I ain’t going anywhere.”
“We understand that. But Rosie will always be his baby girl.”
“With her own kids!” Calamity retorted.
“Don’t matter to Texas. Did I do right?” I demanded suddenly, having self-doubts.
Calamity gave me an incredulous look. “Yeah. What could you do? Allow disrespect?”
“Just checking, Prez.” For all my confidence, sometimes my age worked against me.
“Are you taking anyone tomorrow?” Calamity asked, and I frowned.
“Huh?”
“The fuckin’ town fair that Amberlea organised. We gotta attend.” Calamity scowled and reminded me so much of my Uncle Drake I had to choke a laugh.
“Gauntlet will kick our ass if we don’t,” I mused. “Might be worth it to avoid it.” I grinned.
“No way. If I have to suffer, so do you, Veep,” Calamity fired back.
“Ah, crap,” I muttered and sighed, resigned.
Falcon
I headed for the smell of bacon, my stomach rumbling. Rafe and Shelby sat at a table, eating, their plates piled high.
“Shit, alright last night?” I asked, and they nodded.
“Didn’t see anything, Veep,” Shelby answered.
“No trouble,” Rafe declared around a mouthful of sausage.
“Finish your food and hit the sack,” I ordered, and they jerked their chins.
We’d hired guards but hadn’t been able to trust them when one fell asleep on duty, and a woman snuck in. That had caused a scene. Rosie had bitch-slapped the hell out of her, which had been amusing.
Penny stood by the counter, looking bright-eyed, and I silently cursed Texas’s wife. At seven a.m. Penny shouldn’t appear so happy.
“Morning, Veep,” she beamed and met my glower.
“Get over it, Falcon, you’re attending the fair.
Fetch your breakfast.” I grabbed a plate as the clubhouse door slammed open and Gauntlet stomped in.
He glowered at everyone there and, without a word, headed for the serving counter.
Gauntlet noticed me standing in his way and raised an eyebrow.
“Say excuse me,” I taunted, and Gauntlet elbow-barged me aside. Fucker.
“I’ve been up since four putting up bunting and shit. Wanna start something, Veep? I’m looking for someone to kick the hell out of,” Gauntlet growled.
“Gauntlet, Amberlea could have managed herself,” Penny chided.
“No old lady goes anywhere alone,” Gauntlet sniped, grabbing six sausage links and heading for the bacon next.
He filled his plate with enough food for two men and then sat his ass down at the nearest table.
Penny rolled her eyes at a woman behind the counter, Emma, who was cooking and fetched Gauntlet a coffee and toast.
“How come he gets waited on?” I demanded sulkily.
“Because he’s been up for four hours to your half an hour, Veep,” Penny retorted. I grabbed my food and sat opposite Gauntlet.
“Should have put a prospect on her,” I taunted. He gave me a dark look and bit into his bacon.
“Should have kicked your ass more when you were one,” Gauntlet complained, and I chuckled.
“That was a missed opportunity. Where’s Amberlea now?”
“Fetching the kids, with Faelea,” he replied.
It was hard to believe that Faelea was fourteen.
Despite only being in our lives for four years, it felt like she’d been here forever.
The teen entered carrying Trick, short for Patrick, Gauntlet’s three-year-old son, and Amberlea followed with Ramon, their two-year-old.
Ramon was babbling happily away, which Trick scowled at like his dad.
Yup, Trick would be the image of his father in twenty years.
Faelea lit up at seeing Gauntlet, and his smile softened for his girl.
“Lucifer!” Agatha, his gran, exclaimed, and I smirked. If Gauntlet was in trouble with her, she resorted to Lucifer, his given name; otherwise, Aggie called him Gauntlet.