No Peace for Crown Knight

Chapter One

“You have no idea how crazy this nigga can get.

Crown will cut your fuckin’ head off for that interruption and display it for the whole Hills to see.”

— Smoky

The low rumble of a black van caught everyone’s attention as it pulled into the Council’s clubhouse. A line of Harleys followed right behind it, the Knights rolling in together. The driver’s door opened first. Domo climbed out with a pistol already in his hand before sliding the side door open.

“Move.” He ordered.

Benjamin stumbled out of the van, barely able to catch himself. His face was swollen beyond recognition, and blood stained the front of his chest and stomach. Domo shoved the barrel of his pistol into the middle of his back, forcing him forward.

Conversations slowly died down as the other bikers looked over in shock and curiosity.

It was bike night, when all the clubs came together, and everyone wondered where the Knights were.

But they hadn’t expected them to show up like this.

Some noticed Smoky and Danger were nowhere in sight, and that only left them even more baffled as Crown stepped out of the van next.

He looked like a madman. Shirtless, his tattooed chest and arms were on full display as his dark jeans hung over a pair of black boots stained with blood.

His waves weren’t laid like usual. Crown stayed fresh to death, keeping a brush on him, so seeing him like this wasn’t normal.

Bloodshot eyes told the story of a man who hadn’t slept, while his bruised and split knuckles made it obvious he’d spent most of the day beating a nigga’s ass.

Yet none of that was what drew everyone’s attention.

It was the two severed heads hanging from his hands.

Every biker standing outside stared at him in disbelief.

Everybody knew the rules. Council grounds were neutral territory.

There was no bloodshed, retaliation, or settling scores.

You respected the land no matter what club you belonged to.

Yet there Crown was, walking straight toward the clubhouse like none of those rules applied to him.

Domo stayed close behind Benjamin, keeping the gun pressed firmly against his back while the rest of the Knights fell in behind them.

They hadn’t made it halfway to the entrance before the clubhouse doors flew open.

Council guards rushed outside with their weapons drawn, surrounding the walkway as rifles and pistols pointed directly at Crown and Domo.

Neither man flinched. Crown never even slowed his pace.

A few seconds later, Hemsworth stepped through the doorway wearing a dark flannel over a black T-shirt.

Grim, Hunter, and Prophet followed behind him dressed much the same.

Hemsworth’s eyes adjusted to the fading evening light before landing on Crown, then dropping to the heads in his hands.

Finally, they shifted to Benjamin. His brows pulled together, unable to make sense of what he was seeing.

Purposely, Prophet stayed a step behind the others, quietly studying Crown. Confusion twisted in his gut. The last time he’d seen him was at his reception, and everything was fine. Last night had ended beautifully…or so he thought.

Hemsworth slowly raised one hand, and 2pac blasting through the speakers was cut off by the DJ.

“Crown,”

“Hem.”

“What the fuck is this? You know the rules of Council grounds. So, tell me why you felt the need to bring this kind of disrespect onto our property.”

“’Cause I was disrespected the night I celebrated with my wife. Lines got crossed again, Hem. And I’m past negotiation. Either you handle these bitch ass niggas…or I will.”

“You watch your tone. The Council takes orders from no one.” Grim snapped, stepping in front of Hemsworth as his hand dropped to his weapon.

Without hesitation, Prophet’s fingers wrapped around the grip of his own pistol.

Anybody looking would’ve thought he was on the same type of time as Grim, ready to shoot Crown where he stood over the disrespect shown.

But that was far from the truth. Prophet had purposely hung back.

He wouldn’t dare let Grim get that shot off.

If shit turned ugly, Prophet already knew whose side he’d die on.

This wasn’t just about protecting the Knights; Crown was family.

The Council guards closed ranks. The Knights tightened around Crown.

For a second, the whole lot felt like it was one move away from a bloodbath.

Before either man could make a move, Hemsworth raised his hand again.

He noticed Crown staring toward Gunner, who stood near the edge of the lot with his club.

Sweat beaded across Gunner’s forehead as he swallowed hard.

“It’s alright.” Hemsworth said.

Grim reluctantly stepped back, spitting on the ground as he sized up each Knight.

“Follow me.” Hemsworth looked from Gunner to Crown before jerking his head toward the clubhouse entrance. Something had happened. Whatever it was, he intended to get to the bottom of it.

As Crown walked past him, Prophet quietly released his grip on his pistol and let out a slow breath of relief before following everyone inside.

Once inside, Hemsworth took his seat at the head of the long table.

Grim, Hunter, and Prophet settled into their usual chairs while Crown and Domo stayed standing.

Benjamin stood between them in nothing but his boxers, barely able to stay on his feet.

His wounded leg shook badly, threatening to give out beneath him.

“Where’s Danger?” Hemsworth asked, his eyes briefly settling on Domo.

“He couldn’t be here today.”

“Hmm. I see. Alright, start talking. What happened, and who the fuck are they?”

Driving his boot into the middle of Benjamin’s back, Crown sent him crashing to his knees. “Tell him what the fuck you told me.” He ordered.

Benjamin opened his mouth, but only a groan came out before a violent coughing fit took over.

Blood trickled across the floor as his body shook.

He struggled to catch his breath, but every breath sent another wave of pain through him.

After everything Crown had done to him over the last several hours, he was hanging on by a thread. And he knew it.

Benjamin belonged to one of the most ruthless mobs around, but Crown had broken him.

Stripped away every bit of toughness he thought he had.

The man kneeling on the floor with only one hand, because the other had been cut off and burned, wasn’t the same Benjamin who had stormed onto the property of that cabin.

He barely recognized himself. As he struggled to breathe, flashes of the bloodshed and evil he’d committed over the years ran through his mind, and he realized that this was karma finally catching up to him.

Benjamin was taking too long for Hemsworth’s liking.

He mistook his silence from pain for defiance and gave Grim a single nod.

Grim shot up from his seat, stepped forward, and slammed the butt of his pistol against the side of Benjamin’s head.

Once. Twice. Again. He kept going until Benjamin cried out in pain and finally started talking.

Blood ran from Benjamin’s busted lips as he confessed everything Crown had already beaten out of him earlier.

The Council listened as he explained how Gunner had approached Preach about Crown, what they had planned, the meetings they’d had, the promises that were made, and every other detail he could remember.

He held nothing back. At that point, he would’ve told them anything if it meant the torture would finally stop.

He was tired of the slow death Crown had promised him.

He just wanted someone to put him out of his fucking misery.

When Benjamin finished, Grim granted his wish, shooting him in the head.

The gunshot had barely faded when the roar of motorcycle engines filled the air outside.

One by one, engines fired up as tires screeched across the concrete.

Every man in the room knew exactly what that meant.

Gunner was guilty, and he had his club running from the consequences.

“Seal the gates. Now.” Hemsworth ordered, looking at their lead guard, John.

The Ravens had disobeyed the Council twice, and this time, he intended to make sure it never happened again. Moments later, the men stepped outside.

“The front and second line managed to get out, but we caught the rest.” John said.

Hemsworth nodded and slowly walked toward the members trapped behind the gates.

The guards forced them off their bikes, and once they were standing, his eyes moved over every face before settling on the cuts covering their bodies.

Nico’s grandfather had to be turning over in his grave, he thought.

He’d watched that man build the Ravens from the ground up with pride.

Seeing what the club had become now was a damn disgrace.

“What kind of president leaves his club behind?” Hemsworth asked, his voice carrying across the lot as he glanced at the other clubs.

“A pussy. A man with no morals, no loyalty, and no fuckin’ respect. I want you all to pay attention, ’cause what happens next is exactly what happens to any club that forgets who gave them the right to wear that patch.”

He turned toward the guards.

“Disarm them, and when you’re finished, strip every last one.”

The guards moved quickly. Pistols were pulled from waistbands.

Knives came from boots. Extra magazines, shoulder holsters, and every other weapon hit the pavement, forming a growing pile.

Then they started removing the leather cuts from their shoulders one by one.

Some Ravens handed them over without a fight.

Others hesitated until a rifle barrel was pressed against their chests.

Within moments, a pile of leather vests sat at Hemsworth’s feet.