by Lane Hart
Everyone mutters their grumbled agreement.
“We’ll let you know more as soon as we find out,” War tells the brothers. “Reece will be working his magic, hopefully coming up with more info.”
“I’ll do my best, brother,” Reece agrees with a tilt of his chin.
“Now, on to better news,” Torin begins. “It looks like we may be losing our prospect soon…”
Everyone’s head turns to look at me.
“Maddox, you’ve served long and hard for the MC, and we’ll be taking a membership vote soon if you’re still interested in joining,” Torin declares.
“Really?” I ask. “Of course I want to join.”
“Even with the federal shit hanging over our heads?” War asks.
“Fuck the feds,” I say without hesitation, receiving a chorus of cheers for it.
“But if we lose our prospect, who’s gonna wash our bikes and do all our grunt work for us?” Dalton asks with a smirk.
I flip him off with a grin of my own.
“That’s why we need Maddox to work with Reece to find us a suitable replacement prospect or two. There’s a list of hang-arounds for you to go through and choose from,” Torin informs us. “I want them thoroughly, and I mean, thoroughly vetted, Reece. I want to know everything about them, including every thought in their naïve little heads.”
“You got it, boss,” Reece agrees. “That polygraph machine is gonna come in real handy.”
“Damn right,” Torin says before he looks to me. “And Maddox, we want you on training duty. You won’t be sponsoring these boys, but you will be in charge of overseeing our new recruits for the first few months. That will be your only job from now until the end of the year,” Torin tells me. “I want you to haze them twice as hard as we hazed you, you hear me? See how much they can take and then give them some more. When they leave here, I want you up their asses, seeing where they go and who they know. You snoop through their phones, you listen to their calls, you pat them down head to toe for wires before they step foot in this clubhouse. Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” I reply.
“Once we have our new prospects, we’ll see about finding another chair for this table,” Torin declares.
Thank fuck.
As soon as Torin slams his gavel down, adjourning our meeting, everyone gets up and starts filing out. Everyone except for War, who comes toward me.
“I know it’s taken longer than you wanted to get here,” he says while I try to force the eye contact, even though I feel awful for keeping such a huge secret from him. “But it’s been chaos around here lately, so the guys are a little more cautious about who they trust. You should be too when it comes to the new prospects.”
“Right, of course,” I agree. “I’ll make sure to do that.”
“Good, that’s good to hear,” he says. “I have some…things to take care of over the next few days, but let’s catch up over the weekend. There’s something I want to discuss with you.”
Gulp.
“Okay, sure,” I agree.
With a slap to my shoulder, he says, “See you then.”
Chapter Eight
Maddox
Reece gave me the contact information for five potential new prospects who had been hanging around the Kings clubhouse the last few weeks, or even months. I knew just what I wanted to do to put them through their paces and see exactly what they were made of, and I let them all know to meet me at our strip club, Avalon, on Friday night for their “initiation.”
I had seen a couple of them ride by me toward the parking lot in the back of the club as I stood out front, but the new recruits waited until all five had gathered before coming around the building to face me. As they approached me by the door, all five of them cast repeated glances at the line of women standing behind a velvet rope, waiting to be admitted to the club.
“Do any of you gentlemen know why I asked you here tonight?” I ask them as they form a line in front of me.
They all glance at each other before casting their eyes down to their boots. One of them, a guy named Carl, sheepishly says, “No, sir.”
“Do you want to hazard a guess?”
After a moment of silence, Mike, a young guy who only recently started hanging around the club asks hopefully, “You want us to work security, see how we handle ourselves?”
I snort a laugh at that. “You saw the clientele waiting to get in tonight. Do you think those rowdy ladies are going to need a firm hand to keep them under control?” Some of the women in line hear my comment and respond with catcalls and whistles at the young men standing with me.
“They’re all women,” the ginger, not the smartest of our potential recruits, observes. “Are there a bunch of lesbians in town?”
The ladies who overhear that question burst into laughter and sporadic boos, before I reply, “I’m not aware of any unusual amounts of lesbians in town this evening. Dumbass. No, Mike was partially right. Tonight, we’re going to see how you handle yourselves. It’s ladies’ night here at Avalon, and you boys are going to be part of the show. Now, get your asses backstage and work with the performers to find some outfits. Don’t worry if you don’t like what you end up wearing, you won’t have it on for long.”
All five of them glance at each other and shuffle their feet as the women in line cheer. “Move your bitch asses!” I roar at the men, then step aside as they hustle into the building. “We’ll see you inside, ladies, in just a few moments. Make sure to take good care of my young recruits!” I call to them as I follow along.
Once I’m inside, I almost run into the back of Pete, a skinny young man who had been coming into the clubhouse since he was old enough to drink. “I told you to move your ass, Pete,” I growl at him.
“Dude, Maddox, I’m not sure about this…” he starts to protest.
“Then you’re not sure you want to be a fucking King!” I yell. “You have to be willing to do anything to be a brother in this club, and if that means waving your anorexic cock in a lady’s face, you rub it till it’s chubby and you shake that fucking thing like it’s your royal goddamn scepter! You understand me?”
Pete jerks straight up and damn near salutes me as he rushes to follow the rest of the boys to the back where the changing rooms are located. I can’t help grinning as I head to the bar, waving over the muscled and oiled boy toy in a bow tie tending the drinks tonight.
“What can I get you, sir?” he asks me politely.
“Pour me a Jack and Coke,” I reply, as I take a seat and watch the women begin filing into the tables scattered all around the stage.
“I love the way you handled that boy.” The bartender grins after he pours the drink for me and slides it to me. “My crew loves coming to work your club, you always bring us the cutest little recruits. They didn’t make you dance with us, did they? I’m sure I would remember you.”
I’m not taken aback at all by the man hitting on me, I just laugh and reply, “You’re right, I missed this experience when I was coming up in the club. I would have gladly done this compared to some of the other jobs they gave me.”
“Really?” he drawls. “Most of those boys are so embarrassed when they get out here, they whine and moan like it’s going to be the death of them. What other stuff did they make you do while you were trying out for the club that was so awful?”
“Prospecting,” I correct him automatically, “although tryouts is a good way of looking at it. I had to do all sorts of stuff, but the absolute worst was when I had to clean out the septic tank at the clubhouse. I had to do it with a shovel. Don’t think about that too hard,” I caution him. “No matter how bad you’re imagining, the reality was worse. So, so much worse.”
“Uh-uh, baby, no way.” The bartender waves me off. “You boys are crazy with that ‘do anything for the club’ business. Ain’t nobody going to catch me shoveling poop.”
“It was worth it,” I tell him as I raise my glass in a toast. The bartender is already moving away to take more orders
as the seats around me quickly fill with women eagerly awaiting the show.
I’ve never been to a “male review” before and I have to admit the experience is eye-opening, even for me. I’ve been around the girls at the clubhouse when they were partying and feeling frisky, but these ladies tonight are cutting loose and going absolutely wild. I cheer right along with them as my recruits take the stage, mingled between the real performers. I even make my way up to the stage to make it rain a few times when my boys clumsily attempt to mimic some of the professional maneuvers. By the end of the night, they even seem to be enjoying themselves. Well, all except for Pete who, it turns out, I was being generous too when I called his dick anorexic. That poor boy’s unit is so turtled up when he gets down to his G-string that the women in the club yell for us to turn the heat up to see if we can coax the little guy out. They end up chasing him from the stage practically in tears, and I can’t help but add my laughter to theirs.
I’m having a great time when a pretty young redhead, her pale cheeks flushed with alcohol, elbows her way to the bar right by my stool. Instead of trying to order a drink, though, she lays a hand on my knee and forces my leg to the side, then wedges herself close to me. She’s so close, I can count the freckles on the upper slopes of her breasts, and smell the vodka she’s been drinking when she breathlessly says, “How much for a dance with you, baby?”
“I’m not working tonight, honey,” I reply politely, my good humor evaporating as a hard knot of guilt suddenly grips my stomach. “I’m just here to help make sure some of the younger talent doesn’t try to run away tonight. There are plenty of other boys who will play with you,” I assure her as I gently turn my stool and extract myself from her.
“Bah, you’re no fun,” she pouts before waving imperiously to summon the bartender. “You can always tell when one’s taken, I should have spotted it right off.”
“I’m not taken—” I start to protest, but quickly stifle myself. The guilt that is churning inside me begs to differ, and I realize…I miss Audrey. Desperately so, in a way I’ve never felt about anyone. I pick up my drink and finish it off in one swallow, then shake the glass as the bartender comes over to the redhead, signaling for a refill. I know I can’t feel this way about War’s sister, but I have to glumly admit as I pick up my fresh drink, that she’s taken root inside of me and being apart these last few days has only made this feeling, whatever it is, grow and swell inside of me.
Chapter Nine
Maddox
It’s taken weeks, unfortunately, but Reece and I have narrowed down our potential prospects to four guys. We’ve put them through hell, and they still keep showing up for more punishment and humiliation. All except for Pete, that is, who realized after the debacle at Avalon that he, literally, didn’t have the balls to be a member of the Kings.
Now, though, it’s time to select the two guys who will get to wear the Savage Kings leather prospect cut.
Finally!
The faster I get them trained up and ready, the faster I’ll get my patches.
“I think Mike and Cedric are our best picks out of the four,” I tell Reece when we convene down in his apartment to discuss our potential recruits, who are waiting upstairs.
Grinning, he slaps my shoulder and says, “You’re a natural at this, kid. Just like your old man.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, wanting him to tell me more about Deacon since he’s the only one who knows he was my father.
“I mean, you have the same intuition as he did about who can cut it as a King and who can’t. That one boy, Carl, he wouldn’t have lasted a day. And the ginger? He looked like he was ready to piss his pants. That’s a pussy rat if I ever saw one.”
“So, Deacon picked all the prospects?”
“When I was coming up, he did. He handpicked me,” Reece says. “I was right out of the Army, had only been a hang-around for a few weeks, while some of the other guys had years on me. Still, Deacon chose me over them, said he knew I was a King by the way I held myself.”
“Really?”
“Apparently, I looked like a stubborn son of a bitch who could take a punch and keep kicking ass.”
Yeah, I could see that about him from the first time we met too.
“Torin is the one who picked me, and Cooper picked Holden,” I say, and Reece nods.
“Torin’s got the same eye as his uncle. He had watched some of the guys give you shit when you were a hang-around, and could tell that you bottled up your anger but weren’t a hothead like Holden was. You keep your cool and play shit smart. He trusted you right off the bat, which is rare for Torin, even before Hector Cruz fucked him over.”
“Why did he trust me?” I ask. “I was just a homeless kid who thought everyone saw me as a leech. And I didn’t tell him the name I was born with…”
“Everyone has their secrets,” Reece says. “And that’s fine as long as those secrets won’t screw over the MC. Yours isn’t anything shameful or hurtful.”
“You think he knew I was lying?” I ask.
“Maybe. But you held your own and didn’t back down to anyone, even him. You may go around saying, yes, sir to the brothers, but we can all hear it in your tone and see it in your eyes—you think you’re an equal to us, not a subordinate, and there’s nothing wrong with that. We may make prospects do the grunt work, but we don’t want pissant pussies. It takes a man with confidence and a little swagger to become a King.”
“And you think I have confidence and swagger?” I ask with a grin.
“I said a little, don’t be twisting my words,” Reece mutters. “Now, if you’re done talking about your feelings, let’s go get rid of the trash and tell our boys the good news. I’ll even let you do the honors.”
On the way back up the steps, he says, “You’ve been a workhorse long enough, Mad Dog. Now it’s time to start showing us what you’re made of. Don’t be scared of pissing anyone off. That vote of yours is as good as done.”
“Thanks,” I say on an exhale of relief before we get to the door at the top. Switching on the badass soon-to-be-King version of myself, I walk into the bar saying, “Look alive, wannabes. Two of you have made the cut.”
The boys all straighten up as they form a line, standing shoulder to shoulder.
“If you think we decided that you’re one of the two that has the balls it takes to be a prospect for the Kings, take a step forward,” I tell them as I pace in front of the line. I pull out the big Ka-Bar knife War gave me from the holster and spin it around for them to all see it. “But, if you step up and you’re wrong, we’ll have to take one of your toes off before your dumb ass is sent out the door.”
This is the final test to see if we’ve picked the right guys—not boys, but men brave enough to step up, even if there’s a chance they’ll face an incredible amount of pain.
After a few seconds of hesitation, Cedric finally mutters a curse but then takes a step forward. Riding his wave of confidence, Mike eases up beside him.
“That everyone who wants to be a King?” I ask. It’s so quiet in the bar, I can hear crickets chirping outside. “All right, the rest of you out. Mike and Cedric, take off your shoes.”
The two chumps run from the bar like their asses are on fire.
Cedric bends down to start untying his boots while Mike looks at me and licks his lips. “You’re fucking with us, right?”
“Take your goddamn shoe off,” Reece, who had been quiet, barks at him. “If he has to tell you again, he’ll take two toes instead of one.”
“Dammit,” Mike huffs before he kneels down.
While their heads are both lowered, Reece reaches behind the bar and grabs the two leather cuts with prospect patches that were draped over a stool and tosses them to me. I throw one down on Cedric’s shoulders and the other on Mike.
“Put your shoes back on and don’t make us regret this decision, or you’ll be losing more than a toe,” I warn them, channeling my inner savage.
“Pussy training starts at four tomor
row afternoon at the salvage yard,” Reece informs them. “Don’t be late.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir,” both guys say before they stand up and put on their cuts with grins splitting their faces.
I remember the day Torin gave me the one I’m wearing. He sent me and Holden on a scavenger hunt to find the cock-cycle. It was just as awful as it sounds. The two of us knew we were looking for a Harley, but had no idea until we spotted it that it was Chase’s old rat bike…that was covered in dildos. Still, Holden and I fought for who would ride it, and I won. Pulling up in the clubhouse parking lot that night, with the guys waiting around at the bonfire, was fucking amazing. That’s when Torin and War gave me my cut and War told me he wanted to be my sponsor.
It was one of the best days of my life. Before that, I knew it was possible they would never give me a chance to be one of them.
After hanging around for two years, I had seen a lot of guys come and go. Not to mention how terrifying it was to see Holden eventually meet his end.
Still, I didn’t give up and it paid off.
Soon, I’m going to finally be a King.
Chapter Ten
Audrey
“You do know how to work a dishwasher, don’t you?” I ask Mindy, my wonderful roommate, when she comes into the kitchen and I’m cleaning her crusty macaroni pot from last night.
“I was gonna wash my shit if you had given me a chance,” she grumbles.
“Yeah, right,” I mutter. “And could you try not to slam doors when you come in after midnight?”
“You’re such a nag,” she huffs. “A slag nag.”
Rolling my eyes at her insults, I finish cleaning the dishes and then grab my purse, keys, and phone to head out to the store. I need a few groceries for the weekend and Stella needs more cat food. I swear she eats as much as a lion.
