Chapter 7
Tico
I stare at the laptop screen, reading the email from Thor, the President of the Steel Archangels MC club as well as the President of the mother chapter up in Forest Creek but not wanting it to be true. Even though I know in my gut that it is true.
Two years ago, Thor’s club were the ones that cut the head off the snake, torturing and killing X, the leader of that fucking cult, Oasis. They’d called us in as backup using a favor I’d owed Smoke, his tech guy, from a few years ago.
But now, someone has slithered up the ranks and started things up again. Someone that calls himself El Diablo. It doesn’t seem like they have the same reach as before, but already, girls and women have been going missing. Some of them in our own fucking backyard.
Getting up from my desk, I walk out of my office and scan the main room, looking for Daemon and Cobra, my Sergeant at Arms. I narrow my eyes when I only spot Cobra. Where the fuck is Daemon?
I walk over to the table Cobra’s sitting at. When he sees me, he sits up straighter.
“Prez.”
At my signal, the others at the table get up to give us some privacy and I sit down next to him.
“I need to know what the word is on the streets about this El Diablo cabrón (bastard).”
Cobra frowns. “From my contacts, he’s a sneaky, manipulative little fucker and can damn near sweet talk anyone. I heard rumors that girls and women were going missing northwest of here, but that’s all.”
I tap my fingers against the table as I look around the legacy mi papá y abuelo (my dad and grandpa) left me.
The Royal Bastards are in my blood. Years ago, mi abuelo (my grandpa) did some favors for Jameson to help him escape after Razor tried to kill him and staged a coup.
To repay the debt, Jameson made mi abuelo (my grandpa) the President of his own club.
Mi papá (My dad) followed in his footsteps, Prospecting for the club and eventually, was voted in as the next President.
As a result, mi hermana (my sister), Maria, and I were born and raised in this club, but it didn’t give me an automatic in.
I had to Prospect just like everyone else and climb the ranks.
I’d been the Enforcer for a few years when mi papá (my dad) decided to step down as President.
He threw my name in and surprisingly, I’d gotten a unanimous vote.
I wasn’t so sure if I was the right person for the job because I liked what I’d been doing.
I protected mis hermanos (my brothers). I ensured our rules and code were followed to a ‘T’.
I handled any conflicts in the club or with other clubs.
I had mi papá (my dad) and the VP’s back alongside Cobra.
No one got through us. But then I realized I’d still be doing that but on a higher scale, and it would now be my word that was the final word.
“Where’s Daemon?”
“He sent a message yesterday afternoon that he had to head up to Green Bay to handle some personal business. He figured he’d be back this afternoon.
” Cobra’s eyes narrow a second later, probably just now realizing that Daemon hadn’t notified me that he was leaving town.
He and I will be having a little word after this.
“Tell your men to keep their ears to the ground. I got sent information that those assholes are coming our way. And let me know when you hear from Daemon.”
“You got it, Prez.”
Getting up, I rap my knuckles on the table and head to the bar. I take a beer from Liam, one of our Prospects, and a second later, I feel hands snake around my waist. Chingada vida (Fuck my life). I really don’t need this shit right now.
“You look like you might need a little help unwinding,” Sunny, one of our bunnies, purrs.
“I’m fine,” I reply flatly as I step out of her grasp. She pouts as she comes around and presses herself against me, slowly dragging her hands down my chest.
“It’s been a while since you’ve taken any of us. How about me and one of the other girls help you relieve that tension, just like old times.”
Grasping her hand before she can grab my dick, I stop her and step back.
I’d never raise a hand to a woman, but fuck if all the bunnies aren’t fucking insistent that I need to fuck them.
I’d gotten tired of them pitting against each other to try and get me to choose them as my Ol’ Lady.
Personally, I don’t want an Ol’ Lady that has been fucked by all mis hermanos (my brothers).
I don’t want them to know how my woman feels, how she moans, or how she cries out when she cums.
“I said, I’m fine. Go find someone else to fuck if you’re that insistent on getting laid,” I reply, my voice hard and edged with steel.
Anger flashes in her eyes before she masks it. She huffs and storms off, shaking her ass as she goes. Taking a drink, I head back to my office, shutting the door behind me.
It’s a bit after one when I close my laptop and check my phone.
Still nothing from Cobra or Daemon. My anger starts to rise.
No one rides off alone, and especially without telling me if they’re leaving town for an extended period of time.
Daemon should know better. He’s a fucking officer for fuck’s sake.
Getting to my feet, I dig my keys out and head out into the main room, locking my office behind me. Cobra and Taco spot me and walk over, both of them frowning.
“No word,” Cobra tells me and my jaw clenches.
Mierda (Shit). Where is that fucker?
“Wire got into the police reports. There are four missing person cases in town, all of them female. One is sixteen and the others are in their twenties. No clue if it’s Oasis or someone else,” Taco says as he hands me his phone, showing me the pictures of the missing women.
“Chingada vida (Fuck my life),” I mutter as I hand him back his phone. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I look down at it and frown. Still no fucking word from Daemon. “Keep me posted. I’m going for a ride,” I mutter and they both dip their chins as I stride out of the clubhouse.
Outside, I throw my leg over my baby. I bought it as a celebration when I got my President patch.
It’s a Fat Boy Gray Ghost Harley Davidson.
Starting her up, I feel some of the tension in my shoulders ease as she rumbles to life.
Not surprisingly, Taco comes up besides me and gives me a chin lift again before starting up his bike as well.
The corner of my lips twitch, I should have known he was gonna have my back, even if we don’t suspect trouble.
Pulling out of the gates, I tip my chin to the Prospect, Jesse, and then take off for the back roads around town, needing a little wind therapy.
Our club is on the southwestern edge of Sheboygan Falls.
Years ago, a farmer was getting out of the business and mi abuelo (my grandpa) and the club bought up all their land which included multiple large, wooded sections.
Because they wanted room to grow, they built the clubhouse big and left room where it could be expanded if need be.
It’s a three-story building and each brother has their own room with their own attached bathroom.
The spaces have jokingly been referred to as ‘apartments’ as the years went on even though they aren’t full ones.
Officers have larger apartments and Taco and I have the largest with a second, smaller attached room that we’ve each been using as private offices for the time being.
We also have spare bunk rooms for guests from other clubhouses—some of them sleeping two to a room, and others four to a room.
Bunnies sleep four to a room and we allocate two rooms specifically for their uses.
We only have two single guest rooms and those are reserved for visiting Presidents and Vice Presidents.
There’s a large garage on the property which houses all of our cages for discreet jobs or for when the weather gets to be too much for our bikes.
And since we’re a bunch of single men, it also houses a few toys—snowmobiles, four wheelers, and dirt bikes.
There is also space where we can work on our own vehicles as needed.
I head north and think of mi hermana (my sister), Maria, or Xochitl [pronounced SOH-chee] as she’s known to her club. She’s the President of the Royal Harlots MC chapter. Their clubhouse is located not too far away from here in Kiel, which is about a half hour northwest of Sheboygan Falls.
Both of us were given road names that went with our heritage, which is mixed.
We are mostly Hispanic, but there is some white as well as a lot of Aztec heritage.
Both my mi hermana (my sister) and I followed in nuestra abuela (our grandma’s) footsteps and learned about our cultures, especially the Aztec side.
In the Aztec language, which is called Nahuatl, my sister’s road name Xochitl means ‘flower’.
My road name, Tico, is believed to have come from the Nahuatl word of ‘tequihua’ which means ‘valiant warrior’ or ‘war captain’.
A title I’ve strived to live up to, especially since becoming President.
As I wind through the roads, my mind goes back to the missing women Taco showed me. Is Oasis already here? Or is someone else responsible? But who?
Half an hour later, I find myself back in town and near Daemon’s tattoo parlor.
We park and I look up at the building, frowning when I notice there are lights on in the parlor as well as the apartment above it.
It’s a Sunday, so the parlor is closed and last I knew, it wasn’t rented out to anyone.
Daemon was just using it as storage since he has a room in the clubhouse. No one should be up there.
Signaling Taco, I swing my leg over my bike and quietly walk around to the back of the building with Taco at my back. Being President means I have keys to all of our businesses and if someone’s snooping around trying to steal from us, they’ll feel the wrath of the Royal Bastards rain down on them.
With my hand on my gun inside my cut, I peek around the corner, but I don’t see Daemon’s bike.
We inch toward the back door and I hear muffled voices coming from inside, but I don’t recognize them.
One of the voices is feminine and fuck, that sultry, husky voice goes straight through me.
My dick twitches in my jeans, but I force my head to stay in the game and not in the gutter.
Since I’m in the lead, I get to the door first, frowning when I see it’s slightly ajar.
Taco gives me a signal that he’s ready. I swing the door open and he steps in first, gun raised with me hot on his heels.