2. Venom
2
VENOM
“ Y ou have a bloody clue why he rescheduled church to today?” I ask my best friend, Slash, as we lean against the wall opposite the double doors leading into the chapel where we hold club meetings. “Seems strange. One minute, everythin’s normal. The next, he’s rumblin’ around the clubhouse like a bear with a sore fuckin’ head, demandin’ that we move church to Thursday’s after fifty damn years of it being held on the first Monday of the month.”
After plucking the unlit cigarette that’s dangling from between my lips and lighting it up, Slash shrugs. “Alls I know is he’s losin’ it… and not in a good way. Used to be that—issues with how he took the gavel aside—he led from the front, nowadays it seems he’s fuckin’ with our traditions even more than he did five years ago.”
With his succinct, and brutally honest, description of our president aired in a voice loud enough for everyone waiting for Brutus to call us into the chapel to hear, I expect some of the old-timers to kick up a fuss. Loyalty is a big thing in an MC, and even though the VP patch now sits on the left side of my cut, there’s some who remain displeased about my promotion. Despite the fact I should be president, not Brutus, the naysayers could use this conversation to push for a re-vote.
Strangely, all Slash’s pronouncement receives is a few murmurs of agreement.
We exchange looks, then lapse into silence.
Maybe we’re not the only ones growing frustrated with Brutus’ latest antics?
Slash blows smoke in my face, and I do my best not to give him the reaction he’s seeking. Namely, snatching the cigarette back and sucking down the calming nicotine that I’m trying so hard to avoid. If I do that, he will tattletale to my woman and watch her ream me a new one for breaking my promise to her.
It’s becoming a bit of a joke around here—my inability to say no to Lily.
She casually mentions how much she dislikes the smell on me, and the next day, I’m doing my best to quit. Of course, my brothers can’t leave well enough alone, and just let me get on with it.
That’s not how our brotherhood works.
Nope. We much prefer to take the piss out of each other.
The moment I announced I was giving up smoking after fifteen years, suddenly everyone in the MC became a smoker. Noxious clouds hang in every room as they all puff away. I’ve been offered more cigarettes than one man can possibly smoke in a lifetime. Even my dad, the ex-president who was forced aside while he delayed lung cancer’s victory, is in on the gag. He’s gone as far as to buy me a pack for the first time in my life.
It doesn’t matter.
They can laugh it up all they want.
If it’s in my power, Lily gets what Lily wants.
She’s been through more than enough bullshit in her twenty-three years of life. It’ll take more than some good-natured but malicious mocking and sabotage from my brothers to force me to give her a reason to frown again.
“Five minutes.” Slash’s father, Angelis, sticks his head out of the chapel where he’s been huddled with Brutus and a couple other old timers while the rest of us waited to be called in.
With my recent promotion to VP, I should be in there with them. I would be in there, except Brutus locked the doors before I could enter. As much as my pride rankled and my sense of justice flared, I decided it wasn’t worth kicking up a stink since the pang in my gut warned me that that was what he wanted from me.
Angelis peers at me, then at his son, and a strange expression flits across his face before he quickly schools his features into something more neutral. “Phones will needa go in the box for this one… and it’s gonna take some time. Make sure you’ve made ya calls before we start.”
Angelis has barely finished speaking and I’ve already dragged my phone out of the inner pocket of my cut. With a quick touch that speaks to years of practice, I open my mobile without looking and call my woman. Her phone rings five times, and I’m about to end the call and send her a text instead, when she answers.
“Zeke,” Lily whispers down the line. “Stuck in a meeting. Can’t talk. Love you.”
She ends the call, and I pull the silent device from my ear to stare at it. With a shake of my head, I type out a warning that I will probably be a little late to escort her home, so she should wait for me at her office.
Lily’s boss, Gabriel Abaddon, is related by blood to the president of the US mother chapter, so I know she’s safe under his supervision. If it came to it, he’d take a bullet or a life to protect her. Which may come in handy if Lily discovers what I’ve been hiding from her for the past two weeks before I can cook us a nice dinner and confess tonight.
I might be the one needing protection… from my woman.
“She hung up on you?” Lily’s cousin, Toker, interrupts my internal worrying with a chuckle. He grins, waiting for me to respond to his cheeky goading. I press send on my texts, then regard him with an impassive stare. When I don’t reply, Toker raises his voice so the others can hear, and mocks me in a babyish tone. “Someone needs to g-wive Venom a widdle hug… widdle Cherub isn’t taking his c-walls .”
Ignoring the way everyone laughs at his wisecrack, I run my gaze over my phone’s wallpaper, taking in the smile that curls Lily’s generous lips and the happiness that lights up her expression as we posed together for an impromptu selfie in bed a few months ago. Her blonde hair is a mess. My arm is behind her head, wrapped around her shoulders to hold her in place since she’d tried to slip away from me by claiming morning breath. The bright blue eyes that I adore, so full of life and love, are fixed on me instead of the camera.
Lily looks at me like I hold the answers to every question in the universe.
It’s intoxicating.
Sustaining.
I allow the contentment I felt that morning to flood my body, then I slide the device back into my pocket.
We’re solid.
She’s stronger than ever.
I’m being paranoid.
So, despite the danger today presents, and the fact she’s going to be filthy with rage when I finally tell her the truth, I force myself to drag in a steadying breath. Nothing’s going to go wrong. Not today. Not ever. I need to put my trust in the precautions I have in place to keep her safe.
There’s next to zero chance Lily’s crazy ex will be dumb enough to strike out at her on his first day of freedom. Can’t say that really comforts me. Not when I never imagined he’d have the balls to hurt her like he did five years ago.
What I can take comfort in is the club.
Every member of the Shamrocks would die for her.
Lily is my woman, but she’s their little Cherub. Only the second girl born into the club in more than five decades. They worship the ground she walks on and hang on to every word she speaks, like her thoughts are the most precious thing they’ll ever possess.
The Black Shamrocks’ devotion to her is enduring and unbreakable.
Which I’m beyond thankful for, since nothing about Alexander Kingsley is predictable.
He’s fixated on Lily, craves her more than he does his next breath, and no amount of pain has been able to break his obsession with her. I know this first-hand because I went behind her back to organise for the Shamrocks on the inside to pay him a few visits before his daddy pulled the right strings to get him protected from me.
The piece of shit still sends her love letters, threats, and the occasional rambling apology. First, they came to my old address, then the Shamrocks compound, and now they’re sent to Gabriel’s firm. After the emotional backslide Lily had from his first letter, I make sure everything is given to me. I make it my job to ensure Alex’s vile words never touch Lily’s growing confidence. As the years have passed, it’s gotten harder to anticipate his next plan to contact her. He’s persistent. Determined. Compulsive in a way that he doesn’t seem able to control. Knowing that he’s about to be released from the legal and physical restraints forcing him to leave Lily alone has kept me awake at night since I found out his release date.
“Don’t pout about it,” Toker states. For a moment, I wonder if I said my last thought out loud. My worry dies when he swaps sides of the hallway, invading my space so he can nudge my shoulder with his. In a hushed tone, he tells me, “You must’ve known she was gonna baulk at your overprotective tendencies, eventually? It’s been years, Venom… let it go. With us at her back, Lilianna’s as safe as anyone can be in this fucked-up world.”
The way he says her real name rather than her nickname, with the smallest inflection that telegraphs the tiny crack that remains in his faith in the Shamrocks after our failure more than five years ago, doesn’t exactly fill me with confidence.
“Yeah. Maybe.”
“You saved her.” Toker bumps my shoulder a second time, this time with complete seriousness. “Be happy about that rather than courtin’ trouble you don’t need.”
Since only a few in the club are privy to the true extent of the damage wrought by Lily’s ex, I take a quick peek around the thirty or so brothers who are waiting, with varying degrees of patience, for Brutus to call church to order. No one seems to be paying us any attention, so I lean back against the wall, drop my chin to my chest, and tell the two men standing on either side of me the secret I’ve been keeping for the past fortnight.
“He was let out this mornin’. Seventeen fuckin’ months early… for good behaviour, if you can believe that shit. No parole. Nothin’. Time served and a clean slate.”
Not needing me to spell out who he is, Slash glares down at me. “Did you tell her?”
I shake my head.
“Fuckin’ idiot,” he retorts. “She’s gonna hang you by the balls when she finds out.”
Toker snorts. “Brother, his balls’ll be the least of his worries. Cherub’s gonna skin him alive.”
“Rather risk my balls than watch her unravel,” I mutter. “Won’t risk that ’til I’m certain he’s intent on doin’ more than sendin’ her a letter, every now and then. Plus, he ain’t stupid. He won’t try anythin’ today… not on his first day out.”
After a heavy pause, they both reply, “True.”
The subject is dropped when Brutus finally pulls the doors to the chapel open. He steps aside so we can all file inside and take our places around the rectangular wooden table that dominates the room. Solid oak with our logo carved into it, a gavel sits at the head, and the president’s throne—as Slash likes to call it—sits behind it. The two chairs on either side of the throne are a little more ornate than the ones that circle the rest of the table and line the two walls parallel to the longest sides of the table.
The VP and the SAA sit at the president’s six.
One by one, we toss our phones into the mesh-and-leather box our technology officer, Cub, built to stop our mobiles from being tapped or traced while we’re discussing club business. Once I’ve reluctantly let mine go, I drop down into the VP’s chair that sits to the left of Brutus’ seat and wait for my president to call church to order.
For some reason, he’s in no hurry to get things moving.
Rather than pick up the gavel, Brutus moseys around the table, taking his time to chat with some of the old-timers. It doesn’t escape my notice that the men he speaks to the longest are the ones who’ve made their displeasure at my new role known in one way or another.
“Don’t… let… them… get… to… ya.” My dad wheezes from behind me. Since I didn’t think he’d make it into the clubhouse today for my first meeting as VP, I push to my feet and hug him. His shoulders are bony. His too-thin body shakes as he coughs and struggles to catch his breath. Although I’m aware that he loathes it, I hold him a little tighter than usual.
“’Preciate you makin’ the effort to be here today.”
“Zeke… it’s all … yours. Earned … it. Like… I … did.”
Holding him by the shoulders, I slant a look at his face. He’s completely serious. Ghosts from the part of his past he refuses to speak about, flicker across his pale features. I lean back, tilting my head to angle my mouth to his ear.
“What are you not sayin’ right now?”
Dad juts his chin in the general direction of Brutus. “Ignore… him .”
I slant a look at my president and my anger instantly surges when I notice that Lily’s father has his phone to his ear and is heading out of the chapel.
“What the fuck? He’s gonna keep us waitin’ even longer.” I exclaim with a shake of my head. “Needa get Lily from work soon.”
“Somethin’s… wrong.” Dad coughs, a hacking sound that makes everyone in our vicinity glance at him with worry in their eyes. “Watch… your… b-back…”
Our perimeter alarms sound, cutting off my father’s warning. Not that I need him to finish it. Clearly, he’s cautioning me about Brutus. Having my dad step outside the cone of silence the old-timers maintain, especially the cagey descendants of the founding six like mine, Slash, and Toker’s fathers, confirms that the unease I’ve been feeling since I was promoted to VP isn’t in my head.
There is a division brewing in the Shamrocks.
One that has me and Brutus at the epicentre.
My relationship with my father-in-law-to-be hasn’t been easy since he tried to wed Lily to Alex in exchange for an alliance with the Maddison clan. When he used my distraction during Lily’s recovery to lead a coup that deposed my father and stole my legacy, I pondered whether killing him would be necessary. Then things settled down within the Shamrocks and he followed through on his promise to mentor me, and as much as it filled me with hostility to have my life dictated by a man who tried to marry his daughter off to the enemy, I chose the path of least resistance.
I had a shattered woman, her broken twin, and a dying father to protect.
Still, I maintained the distrust in my heart and kept a watchful eye. It took witnessing his dedication to the club first hand to reverse my opinion of him... a little . I remain sceptical as to his long-term plans, but for now, I’m content to be patient, to sit back and watch Brutus lead my brothers into the modern era.
I’m secure enough to concentrate on Lily and leave the running of the club to Brutus.
Of course, Brutus’ recent motion to promote me to the VP position that had been kept open since he pushed his way into the president’s spot was a step in the right direction. As was his blessing to ask Lily for her hand in marriage a couple years ago.
Until today…
Until Dad finally warned me out loud…
“We needa talk,” I tell my father as the sound of the compound’s alarm invokes my gut instinct. My hair stands on end. My skin crawls with foreboding. “No more secrets. If you’re at the point of outright warnin’ me about him, then it’s time I’m brought into the circle. You, Angelis, Duke, and Cassius can’t keep shit to yourself forever.”
My father’s wheezy and halting, “yeah, soon,” follows me out of the rapidly emptying chapel. My best friends are on my heels; Slash and Toker at my six, as always. The rest of the brotherhood is close behind us. We fill the main bar, the locked double doors in front of us the sole barrier between my club and the intruders on the other side.
With Brutus nowhere to be seen, the Shamrocks look to me for guidance.
I direct my attention to the lanky redhead who’s furiously tapping away on his tablet. “What are you seein’?”
“Cops,” Cub informs me as he glances up from his screen. “They’re outside.”
I regard the double doors with a cynical look. “How many?”
“About forty. From the badges, I’d say it’s the?—”
“Special Response Unit,” a gruff voice shouts through a megaphone before Cub can answer.
“Do not draw your weapons,” I shout so my brothers can hear me over the bullhorn. “Do your best to cooperate, but don’t take any unnecessary shit from ’em. Angelis, I need ya to get ahold’a Gabriel. Gotta make sure this visit is legal.”
“On it,” Slash’s father replies.
The cop with the loudspeaker doles out an order. “We’re aware of a credible bomb threat being made against these premises. Exit the building in an orderly fashion with your hands in the air.”
Without giving us time to think, let alone respond to their thin excuse for encroaching on our turf, the Special Response Unit breaches our clubhouse with a battering ram. Guns drawn; heavily armoured officers pour through the busted doors. They aim their weapons at us, gesturing for us to lie down on our stomachs on the floor as multiple, contradictory demands are screamed into the ether.
My mind slows down.
My gut speeds up.
Something feels off about this.
Bomb threat? At the compound. Doesn’t seem likely…
Our enemies wouldn’t threaten, they’d just blow us to Kingdom Come.
Although I previously told my brothers to comply, I raise my hand in the air to tell them to hold their position instead. With obvious distaste, I ask, “Got any paperwork to back this up?”
“Don’t need any,” the lead officer sneers. With a slow blink, I allow the full scope of my hatred for the pigs to show on my face. Officer Big Mouth swallows, then he blusters, “No one gives a shit what happens to lowlife bikers.”
The cop standing next to him directs the muzzle of his semiautomatic toward the scuffed concrete. “Get on the floor.”
Despite knowing they won’t think twice before opening fire if we resist, I still hesitate to do as I’m being told. The churning in my gut is fast enough to make me nauseous. I’m overwhelmed with the need to run back into the chapel and grab my phone, so I can call Lily to warn her.
It could be a fatal mistake.
Still, it’s a risk I need to take.
“Fuck it,” I curse.
Swinging around to follow my gut instinct, I haven’t taken more than a step when I feel a barrel prod my kidney. “Get on the floor, Venom .”
With a growl, I twist back toward the front of the clubhouse. “I’ll shove that fuckin’—”
My threat to tell this prick where his weapon’s going to end up if he pushes me again dies when a familiar face steps between the smashed doors. Every thought, every worry, every half-baked plan to take control of this situation flies out of my head, except for two heart-stopping realisations…
One: I underestimated Alex’s craving to possess Lily.
Two: My beautiful, barely healed woman is in imminent danger.
“Mr. Miles.” Joseph Kingsley greets me with a smirk. He steps over my club brothers where they’re lying face down on the concrete and comes to a stop in front of me. The malicious glint in his gaze turns devious as he quips, “Fancy meeting you here this evening.”
“I’m gonna kill you,” I spit from between gritted teeth. “Then I’m gonna carve that rapist son of yours into pieces and scatter him in the Indian Ocean.”
“I’m sure you’d love the opportunity.” He nods to himself as he scans my face with his weasel eyes. “But I think we both know Alexander and Lilianna are going to work through their little misunderstanding shortly, after which you’ll be relegated to the trash heap where you always belonged.”
“Keep dreamin’, motherfucker. He won’t get within a hundred feet of Lily ever again.”
Joseph bares his teeth at me in a toothy grin. “You sound so sure of yourself… it delights me to know how very wrong you are in your assessment of this situation.” Before I can retort, he makes a circle signal with the index finger of his right hand. “Apprehend him.”
I spring forward, ready to take out Joseph before he can get to me, only to be knocked down when two of Joseph’s uniformed minions attack me from both sides. My knees hit the floor. My chest follows a second later. Arms pinned to my body, a foot on the back of my head, I continue to fight to free myself. As I battle a kind of fear that I’ve only felt once before, mayhem erupts behind me. My club fights the cops. Hand to hand combat, even as I brace myself for bullets to fly. Although I can see anything other than the polished concrete floor beneath me, I know the Shamrocks are being overwhelmed by the seemingly never-ending stream of cops surging into the main bar. My brothers are taken down, one by one. The sound of someone grunting in pain as they’re thrown onto the concrete next to me invades my ears. Another scuffle breaks out but is quickly halted. When grunts and heavy breathing are all I can hear, I know we’re fucked.
I’m rolled onto my back with my zip-tied hands trapped underneath me and my worst suspicions are confirmed. Joseph has taken anyone who could aid Lily out of action. And there’s only one reason he would’ve done that.
Alex is going to take her.
If he hasn’t already…
“Cherub’s in danger,” Toker grumbles from next to me. “Need someone to let her know he’s out.”
The fear in his voice matches the terror coursing through my veins.
I push and squirm until I can raise my head high enough to yell, “Angelis!”
“Venom!” Slash’s father is being dragged outside. He wrenches one arm free and swings around to face me. He’s sporting a fat lip and a swelling eye that tells me he’s seen straight through this setup like I have, and is trying to find a way to stop the inevitable from happening.
“Call Gabriel. Send someone to?—”
A black boot collides with the side of my head and the world fades to black.