Chapter 1
Hellfire
Atight ass in blue jeans filled my vision as I came down the stairs.
I paused, staring as Kit bent over to slide something behind the bar.
She always fucking insisted on restocking both bars and storage rooms herself, even though Riptide was perfectly capable of taking care of it.
She was an organized sort of person and she hated running out of anything.
My eyes roamed involuntarily over her. She was a tall woman, and though she was lean and muscular, her ass was nicely rounded in her tight fitting jeans.
She didn’t wear the clothes most of the sweet butts did.
One, she wasn’t a sweet butt and wasn’t looking for that kind of validation.
Two, Smokehouse would probably lose his shit if she went around with her ass and tits out.
So would I for that matter. Thing is, she didn’t have to dress that way to drive me wild.
She wore jeans that hugged her curves and t-shirts tucked in that showed her feminine figure.
It left all the good bits to the imagination, while also letting me know that whatever I imagined would never live up to the real thing.
Everything about her had been driving me insane since I met her all those years ago.
Her long dark hair was up in a ponytail as she restocked the clubhouse’s bar.
I imagined wrapping it around my fist as I did all the dirty, depraved things to her that I’d dreamed of over the years.
Shrugging on my cut, I tried to pull myself together as I walked down the stairs.
I only had a few more weeks of my uncles being in town, then I was going to need to get back to helping my dad with the family business.
It wasn’t that I minded the work. In fact, since the business was ours, I loved it.
Took pride in it. But things were already busy and adding in a full day there before I came and handled business at the club was going to make for incredibly long days.
It didn’t matter. I’d do whatever was needed.
Hush and Seek got married yesterday. It was a truly uplifting day for us.
At least it was until Dani’s ex took her off our compound.
The Italians chose that time to strike. Toxic always joked that this was our kind of luck.
Get hit with two problems at once. But, at least then we had the opportunity to get both resolved quickly.
Thankfully, Torque, one of Cynic’s crew, had seen it happen so we were able to catch up quickly and rescue her.
She was okay, just a little rattled. After everything that happened, that was understandable.
We were all a little tense this morning.
The Italians going after Dani just moved up our timeline on confronting them.
Between them and Fremont this was going to be a shit show, but there wasn’t much else we could do. None of us would stand by while anyone harassed our women and children. We’d take the challenge that was being thrown at us.
My eyes were still glued to Kit as I stopped at the bottom of the stairs. It was early, so there weren't many people around.
"What are you looking at?"
I jerked as my best friend, Kit’s brother, spoke from behind me. "What? Nothing."
Smokehouse stopped next to me and studied his sister, his eyes narrowed. She was upright now, thank fuck, and marking something down on her checklist. "Really? ‘Cause it sort of looked like you were staring at Kit."
Side eyeing him, I tried to judge how he’d feel about it if I admitted I was.
My friend was super protective of Kit. They’d both grown up in the MC life and he’d often put himself in between her and men who wanted to date her, once she was old enough.
I’d never spoken to him of the fact that I’d been in love with her pretty much from the start.
I wasn’t sure how he’d feel about it. Fuck, I didn’t know how Kit would feel about it.
Didn’t matter. I wasn’t going to ruin my friendship with Smoke, or my place in the club by hitting on her.
There was a time I’d considered it. Then my dad had me take over the half of our plumbing company that was responsible for septic tanks.
That was five years ago and I’d been trying to catch up ever since.
All this shit with The Italians was making me realize that I needed help.
Needed someone I could trust to handle shit at the business when I wasn’t around.
None of my useless cousins were interested and my brothers didn’t live in Arizona anymore.
Who else could you trust other than family?
My MC brothers, but no one here had any more time than I did.
"I was just about to go ask if I could help her carry some of that shit," I told Smoke with a shrug. "But if you’re going to be a dick you can do it." I gave him a shit-eating grin.
The fact that his old lady had been taken last night might have sent some men spiraling.
They’d have to be left alone to brood until the worry and stress dissipated.
Not Smoke. He took the rational and mature approach, which was to say he hunted the bastards down and shot them.
Now that the danger was over, he needed people to distract him.
And as one of his best friends, it was my job to help keep his head on straight.
Smoke shot me a glare. "I’m not being a dick. Not when I catch you staring at my sister’s a-"
"Toxic!"
Smoke broke off and I sighed in relief at the distraction since I didn’t want to discuss Kit’s ass with him.
The bellow that reverberated through the lower half of our clubhouse was followed by a pissed off looking Lockout.
We both watched in shock as he stormed out from the back hallway, murder written all over his face.
"Morning, Prez," I said. My words were cautious since Lock was red in the face and practically foaming at the mouth. His head snapped in my direction and I promptly zipped my lips. Lock wasn’t one to fuck with when he was this angry.
Toxic appeared from behind a table, eyes bleary, hair sticking all directions, and confusion and grogginess stamped on his face. There was an indentation lining his cheek from the gap between boards on our wooden floors.
Smoke squatted and peered at the darkened corner Toxic had been sleeping in. I did the same. If anyone joined him last night, she’d already slunk out before we got down here.
"Did you see him lying there?" Smoke asked.
Shaking my head, I watched as Lock stalked over to our still drunk brother. Lock placed both hands on the table that Toxic was practically spread over as he tried to hold his balance in front of his president.
"I swear to fuck, he’s impossible to keep track of," Smoke muttered, as we straightened back up.
"Lock," Toxic slurred.
"Stay out of my office."
Smokehouse choked on a laugh. I shot him a suspicious look, but focused back on the show when my friend didn’t say anything. Folding my arms over my chest, I watched the play of emotions on Toxic’s face.
"Your…office?"
"Someone was fucking in there!" Lockout snapped. His eyes narrowed as Kit’s giggle floated through the air.
"Didn’t go to your office."
I felt bad for poor Toxic. He’d just been jerked out of a sleep deep enough that he was passed out cold on the floor. He was just trying to catch up with whatever had Lock pissed off.
"No, Toxic. Someone was fucking…having sex, in my office," Lockout growled.
Toxic blinked a few times. "Pretty sure that wasn’t me, Prez." He cocked his head, a look of concentration on his face. "Pretty sure."
"If anyone was fucking someone in my office, it was probably you."
His face screwed up again as he thought it over. "Probably s’not definitely. But it does definitely sound like probably me," he admitted in a drunken slur, swaying as he shoved himself upright. "Don’t remember doing nothing in your office, though."
Lockout’s hands gripped the edge of the table.
He clamped down so hard, fighting for control of his temper, that his knuckles were white.
"My desk is halfway across the room and whoever your friend was left her panties on the floor.
" He reached into his cut and pulled out a lacy thong.
He tossed it at Toxic. "Just stay out of my office. "
Toxic nodded. "Sure will, Prez," he muttered, the panties hanging off his face. He was so blitzed he didn’t even try to remove them, just left them there as Lockout left.
Lock shot me a threatening look as he went.
This was why he’d been named Lockout. In a helicopter, when you put the levers into ‘lockout’ the engines go to max power in an instant.
His temper did the same thing. He went from normal to overload in less than a minute.
It was why he worked so hard on keeping his anger under control.
Every once in a while it broke free, though.
We all knew to take cover when that happened.
"What’s his problem?" I wondered out loud.
"Rough morning," Static said from where he was leaning against the wall near the hallway. He winced as he slid onto a chair at the bar. He had severely bruised ribs from the beating he took at the Event Center.
My eyes wandered over to Kit again and I found her staring at me. Shooting her a lopsided grin, I chuckled to myself when she flushed and tried to look busy with her inventory.
Smoke went over to where Toxic was now slumped on a chair, his arms pillowing his head on the table. "He really can sleep anywhere." He grabbed the panties off Toxic’s face and shoved them inside the pocket of his jeans.
My brows shot up. "Something you want to admit to?"
"Nope." He gave me a toothy grin.
Shaking my head, I focused back on Static. "Why’s he having a rough morning?"
"Fremont. The Italians. Running the club. Running his business. The delays with the school. Family-" Static broke off. "You name it, Lock knows about it and is killing himself trying to fix it."
"Anything we can do?" Smoke asked.