Savage Kings MC Box Set 2

by Lane Hart

  “Of course! You can come see me anytime, sweetie,” Rita tells me with a smile. “And you know I can never turn down strawberry cheesecake, even though it’s not part of my diet.”

  “One slice a month can’t really hurt you, can it?” I ask.

  “It will be our little secret,” she whispers as I hand her the plastic container.

  And so begins my surveillance of Evelyn from a distance.

  Rita tells me all about her routine without even knowing it. When she comes by, always on Sundays and Wednesdays, and that Evelyn goes to the pharmacy in town to get her prescriptions for her on Wednesdays before coming over. She also goes with her to all of her doctor appointments. Appointments are the only time that Lowell doesn’t accompany Evelyn like the doting husband Rita thinks he is. Psycho is more like it. I’m not surprised that Rita’s local nephrologist is female. Dicks like Lowell wouldn’t let Evelyn go to appointments where she could - god forbid - have to speak to any men.

  Usually I stay for an hour during my Sunday visits always after I watch Evelyn leave. Like Rita and her cheesecake, it’s my one small indulgence of the month. The only glimpse I allow myself of her before I go back to Emerald Isle and do my best to live without her.

  “Why the hell do you want to be a Savage King?”

  That’s one of the questions that Reece, one of the more senior members of the Savage Kings MC, asks during his interrogation. I’m hooked up to an actual lie detector in the basement of the Savage Asylum and have been answering Reece and Maddox’s questions about my name, family, criminal record and everything else under the sun for hours now. Some questions were ridiculous, like ‘which Star Wars movie is the best’, but I still answered honestly. Besides, there is nothing for me to hide from the Kings.

  Nothing except for Evelyn.

  I can’t tell these guys the complete and total truth – that trying to patch in is the only semi-sane thing I know to do to try and get Evelyn back. I’m going to fight fire with fire no matter how long it takes me to earn my blow torch. I don’t want the Kings or anyone else to know about her before I get patched in. She’s my only weakness that can be exploited. Soon, I’ll be moving out of my parents’ house just to make sure they won’t ever be in danger of getting caught up in any of the shit I may get myself into with the MC.

  “Dude, answer the question,” Maddox, a longtime prospect, says with a snap of his fingers in front of my face. “Why do you want to be a Savage King?”

  The only honest answer I can give them is, “Because all my life I’ve been a pussy. I don’t want to be a pussy anymore.”

  Reece smirks from behind his computer desk and then goes on to ask his next question. “Why do you think a little shithead pussy like you has what it takes to ever become a Savage fucking King?”

  That one is a little more difficult to answer. I’m not sure if I could, in fact, spend a few years prospecting for the toughest guys I’ve ever met without losing my mind waiting to do something for Ev. Still, I am not going to give up on her. To get her back, I may need an army of badasses. Also, a stupid part of me thinks that maybe, just maybe, if I could patch in as a King, I could finally be more like the type of man Evelyn prefers – the bad boy who can fuck her instead of the nice guy, a friend who is “sweet” and makes love to her.

  Not that I would tell these guys any of that.

  Instead, I say to Reece, “I’m honest, loyal to a fault, and need to be something other than a shithead little pussy in a small coastal town. I’ve seen you guys. I’ve seen your brotherhood, what you stand for. I’ve got nothing to lose, but everything to gain. I want to be a part of…well, everything you guys are.”

  That is also the honest to god truth. I don’t have anything worth losing. I have already lost the one person I love in the world other than my parents. And I would die trying to get her back before I ever give up.

  Then, I ask Reece my questions. “Do the Savage Kings really have each other’s back, no matter what? Will they go to any length to protect what’s theirs?”

  “Absolutely,” he answers unequivocally. “Any other questions I can answer for you?” he asks sarcastically.

  “Yeah. Do the Kings have any flame throwers?” Even if it’s a metaphor, I still need to know. I think I need some sort of sign that giving up college to join an outlaw MC was the right thing for me to do.

  “Possibly,” Reece answers with a grin that I take to mean yes.

  “Then I’ll do whatever it takes to patch in.”

  “Even if it takes years as a prospect doing menial bullshit like washing bikes and serving us beers?” Maddox asks.

  “Sign me up. I’m ready,” I tell them.

  “Cut him loose,” Reece says to Maddox, who starts removing all the devices attached to me. “We’ll be in touch if we decide you’re worthy.”

  “Thank you. Sir,” I tack on at the end. I know these guys are all about respect, and you have to show some before you receive it.

  Chapter Six

  Cedric

  Two years later…

  For the past two years, I’ve occasionally tried to reach out to Evelyn, calling or texting her on her old phone number to see how she’s doing. I never failed to get a response, just not the comforting one I wanted from her.

  Instead, I usually get a short video clip, one of Lowell fucking her or her giving him head. The clips are disgusting and sent by the asshole to make me jealous, but at least I know she’s still alive and well between my monthly visits to Carolina Beach. I always search her naked body for bruises, signs of him hurting her, but never find any. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t abuse her in some shape or form. Each time I see her face she looks more miserable and depressed, the dark circles under her eyes becoming more pronounced. She does whatever Lowell wants because she has to, not because she wants to. At least that’s what I tell myself.

  I still check on her mom Rita who told me Ev only visits her with Lowell twice a week. She says she’s busy with “work” on the Aces’ gambling boat. Rita stupidly thinks Lowell walks on water because he’s been paying her medical bills for years. I wonder if she has any clue where his money comes from. It ain’t from a hard day’s work, that’s for sure. Still, I’ve made Rita promise not to tell Evelyn or Lowell that I visit her by continuing to bribe her with cheesecake. She’s been doing well for someone who depends on almost daily dialysis after waiting three years for a kidney transplant. Hopefully she’ll get one soon.

  I would be willing to cut out Lowell’s and give it to her, but it’s probably too fucked up by drugs and shit to be worth a damn.

  I’ve kept an eye on the Dirty Aces and know that they have a reputation for being a big-time drug distribution center on the east coast. But since they’re in New Hanover, three counties away, and they steer clear of Emerald Isle, the Savage Kings have refused to intervene to make them stop. Which is fine. I have a plan for how to get Evelyn away from that prick, one I’ve been carefully following even though sometimes I want to pull my hair out. I’ve always been a patient man, but prospecting is taking so fucking long!

  My plan starts with getting patched in with the Kings, saving every dime I make, and then taking over Rita’s medical bills so that Evelyn can finally leave that asshole for good. It’s not something that is going to happen overnight, so I’m trying my best to be patient. It’s just hard to do sometimes, especially when I see videos of Ev with Lowell, making me want to walk right into the Dirty Aces bar and blow his head off.

  “Fuel up all the bikes, kid. You know what today is, right?” Chase Fury, the VP of the Savage Kings, asks when he comes into the bar where I had zoned out. Shit, what is today?

  “Today’s November fourth,” I mutter, unable to believe it’s been more than two years since Evelyn married that raging asshole Lowell.

  “Yeah, smartass. That’s right, it’s November fourth,” Chase huffs. “And it’s also the fifth annual Toys for Tots Ride hosted by the Myrtle Beach Savage Kings.”

  “Oh. Are we
going to Myrtle Beach today?” I ask him.

  “No. We’re going to Myrtle Beach for the weekend,” he responds. “Shit, I forgot you don’t know fuck-all since you don’t sit at the table. I thought Torin or Reece would’ve told you. Guess we’ve all had more important things on our minds.”

  The ‘more important things’ were trying to keep Ian, fresh out of prison for only a few months, from killing someone after his boy Gabriel took the fall for him. Gabriel is going to be spending a year in jail, and Ian has been nearly inconsolable.

  The Kings have all been through a lot since the time I became a prospect. Dalton fell for an ATF agent. Reece’s girl was nearly killed by a crazy motherfucker. Miles brought the wrath of the Russian mafia down on the Kings because of his internet wife Kira that he’s madly in love with, and he now has a kid on the way. Sax nearly got all of the Kings arrested on murder charges, and then Cooper was almost killed when the Russians blew up our strip club. The Savage Kings’ strip club, I should say, since it’s not mine. Lately, I’ve been referring to the Kings as us or whatever like I’m a part of the group, when I’m still just a prospect looking in from the outside as time slowly ticks by.

  “So, um, you got any idea when I may be up for a vote?” I ask Chase, trying not to sound desperate. I seriously thought I would’ve patched in as a full member by now. I’ve done everything they’ve asked of me. I take night shifts from Reece to keep an eye on the security surveillance for all of the businesses and most of the Kings’ private residences. I’ve proven my loyalty and been working out in the weight room every free moment I have to get stronger. But still, nothing.

  “Every time you ask one of us about your vote, we put it out for another week,” Chase replies with a grin hidden behind his reddish-blond beard. I have no clue if that’s true or if he’s fucking with me. “Wash the bikes, pack a bag and then get the van south to the MB Kings’ clubhouse. We’re sending a few cases of beer for tomorrow’s bonfire before we crash at one of their rental houses tonight. I’ll text you the address, and then we’ll all meet you down there later.”

  “Yes, sir,” I agree with a sigh before I go out back to fill up my bucket of soapy water and grab my sponge to get to work.

  Five hours later and I’m sitting in bumper-to-bumper beach traffic. Even though it’s November, it’s a Friday and, yes, that’s precisely when everyone heads to the Vegas of the South to party. I haven’t been to Myrtle Beach for fun in years, not since spring break with Evelyn and some of our friends from school our senior year. Since most of us were broke, there was like six of us crashing in one rundown motel room with two queen beds. With a grin, I remember that we didn’t give a fuck about the peeling wallpaper or packed lodging. We went to the beach, we drank, and we had a good time together. It was one of the first times all of us had been out on our own without any parents.

  I’m driving the MC’s van along at snail speed, moving up a few feet every time the stoplight at the intersection of Broadway at the Beach changes when I’m suddenly jolted forward.

  Hard.

  Son of a bitch. Someone rear-ended me!

  I glare up at my rearview mirror to see who the idiot is that wasn’t paying attention, pissed that they’re gonna delay this delivery even longer and that I’ll have to explain to the Kings why their shit got fucked up. Behind me, to my surprise, is an ambulance. I don’t think it’s in any sort of hurry, though, since the lights and siren aren’t on.

  Throwing the van into park and putting on my emergency flashers, I crack open my door to slip out and go see how bad the damage is. Hopefully it’s not much so I can get the fuck out of here, and just let Eddie fix it at his junk yard once I get back to town.

  Just as I climb out, two figures emerge from either side of the ambulance…both in all black and wearing ski masks over their faces. Oh, and they have big ass guns in their hands that they rack ominously as they start to rush toward me.

  Fuck!

  Getting away in the van is impossible right now thanks to traffic, so I take off running on foot through the lines of cars, heading toward a nearby strip mall before I get run the fuck over. A quick glance over my shoulder as I make my move confirms what I already guessed, those fuckers are chasing after me and I have no goddamn clue why. All I know is that they don’t look friendly and I don’t want to die tonight. There’s still a lot of shit left for me to do, like save Evelyn from her asshole husband.

  Could it be her asshole husband and his crew coming after me?

  Nah, I’ve definitely been flying under the radar, so there’s no reason to believe I’m being chased down by the Dirty Aces.

  Unfortunately for me, the shop doors I try at the strip mall are all locked up tight, closed even though it’s just a little past six p.m. A lot of these little shithole stores are closed in the off season. Slowing down to try the doors costs me precious seconds, and any lead I had on the men is wasted.

  Just as I start to race around back to the alley, I hear heavy breathing behind me right before I’m suddenly yanked backward by my prospect cut.

  One thing is for sure. I’m not going down without a fucking fight. There’s too much for me to live for.

  Thanks to my constant weightlifting and Reece’s training when I first became a prospect, I can throw a decent punch now, which is what I do when I swing around to the figure who is holding me and ram my fist into the center of his masked face. There’s a definite crunch sound, followed by a howl of pain when he lets me go and drops his big gun, giving me the time I need to make a run for the alley.

  And wouldn’t you know it, in the dead-end alley are not one but three more of the assholes waiting for me, dressed in all black, faces completely covered other than the violence in their narrowed eyes.

  “What the fuck do you want?” I yell at them. “I don’t have any cash on me!”

  “We’re not here for your money,” one of them growls. “We’re here to make you squeal like a pig!”

  Shit, that doesn’t sound like any fun at all. So, when the three men lunge for me at the same time, I hit and kick every piece of flesh on them that I can reach while taking a beating.

  I’m only able to hold them off for a few minutes, because inevitably, the four of them, yes, broken nose guy came back and joined the party too, wrestle me down to the hard pavement face first. My arms are then wrenched behind me. In no time at all, I’m hogtied, ankles attached to my own wrists with coarse rope, and a suffocating dark cloth is draped over my head. It becomes blatantly obvious that there’s no chance in hell of me ever getting out of this shit alive.

  Chapter Seven

  Evelyn

  “Look! Look at her, Evelyn, and take notes,” Lowell orders while some slut takes his dick into her wide-open mouth. “After years, you still can’t deep throat worth a shit.”

  I watch unflinching as another woman goes down on my so-called husband. She gags and slobbers all over his cock while tears spill from her eyes when he stands up and fucks her throat like the heathen he is.

  I’m not allowed to talk to men or look at them, but he sure as hell gets to screw women whenever the fuck he wants. He tells me how to dress, where I can go, and what I can do. I feel like a prisoner. Hell, I am a prisoner, just without the shackles.

  The only reason I put up with his shit is because my mother is miraculously still alive after waiting on a kidney for almost three years. I wish I had another option. Any other option, besides basically being a highly paid whore. But without health insurance and with the pharmacy requiring payment up front for thousands of dollars in prescriptions, not to mention daily in-home dialysis, I was fucked.

  I didn’t just sell my soul to the devil to help my mom, I gave up my life and my freedom, along with pretty much everything else, including my pride, my self-esteem, my hopes and dreams. And worst of all, I had to give up Cedric, who I haven’t seen since the day Lowell dragged me from his house.

  I used to like myself. Not anymore.

  Now, I’m just an empty v
essel thanks to the pills I pop like Tic Tacs daily. I like to call it Russian roulette when I take a few various tablets from my husband’s bathroom stash. None of them are labeled, but I’m sure he knows what they are. He usually doesn’t care what I take either, preferring for me to be a docile wife who doesn’t fight him or argue with him. I just do what he wants when he wants because it’s easier than fighting. Fighting is a lost cause. This is my pathetic, miserable life, and nothing is going to change unless I lose my mother. That’s not something I would ever wish for in a million years, no matter what I have to do to keep her alive.

  Cedric

  When the dark cloth is finally removed from my head, I gasp for air and then try to figure out where the fuck I am and who the hell the…now ten, ten fucking men with ski masks over their faces are! Most are wearing black pants and long-sleeve black tees like it’s a required kidnapper uniform or something. It doesn’t help that I’m also hanging upside down by my ankles and hogtied wrists with all the blood rushing to my head.

  The silence as they all just stare at me through the creepy eye holes is really starting to freak me the fuck out.

  “Well, are you dickheads gonna say something or just stare at me all night?” I snap at them.

  “You already know what we want from you,” one of them swaggers forward and responds, his words muffled by the mask. Each step of his boot echoes loudly like we’re in some sort of big, empty warehouse. It’s pretty dark, though, so I don’t know that’s where we are for sure. The windows are all high with just a little bit of moonlight shining through onto the assholes.

  “Actually, I don’t have any fucking clue what you want from me,” I tell him.