The Lost Boys MC Series: Books 1-4

by Savannah Rylan

  I mean, I knew I was attracted to him. That much was for sure. Especially this morning, when he had to leave before I had a chance to devour him again. But that leather cut. That logo. From what my father had taught me about motorcycle gangs, I knew he was someone not to be toyed with. Not to be wrapped up in. And he sure as hell wouldn't be happy to know I’d entangled myself with one of them, however temporary.

  But I was also a grown ass woman. I didn’t need my father’s approval of who I was seeing. If I wanted to get together with Stone again, that was my choice.

  And speaking of my father…

  “Hello?” my father asked as he picked up the phone.

  “Hey, Dad. It’s me,” I said.

  “Hayley. Princess. Hey,” he said.

  “Just calling you on my little break at work. How are things?”

  “They’re fine. Just sitting by the fire.”

  “The fire? It’s seventy degrees outside.”

  “You know how your mother always liked fires. Even when it was hot as balls outside.”

  My heart broke for him. Ached for him. He always did that. On days he missed her the most, he’d do some of the things she always enjoyed. Like eat at her favorite lunch spot my father couldn't stand. Or walk along the beach my father hated. The two of them were practical opposites, and yet so much of his life had been dedicated to doing shit he hated in order to see her smile.

  “Did you have that tuna on rye?” I asked, giggling.

  “I still don’t know how your mother choked it down,” he said gruffly.

  “Well, she did put up with you all those years.”

  “Hey, now. You’re treading a line.”

  “Oh, come on, you old grouch.”

  I stared out the window as silence fell on the phone call. I drew in a deep breath, hoping my father could hear the whistling of the birds. I propped the phone against my shoulder and closed my eyes. I paid attention to my father’s rhythmic breathing.

  Then, his breath grew ragged.

  “Dad?” I asked.

  “Uh huh,” he said.

  “You okay?”

  “Yep.”

  “You sure?” I asked.

  “Uh huh.”

  I furrowed my brow. “How’s that fire?”

  “Sure, sweetheart. Whatever you need,” he said.

  “Dad,” I said curtly.

  He cleared his throat and I heard the phone tumble from his hand. He scrambled around to pick it up, and I whipped back around to look at my computer screen. I rolled my eyes as he grumbled and cursed. I loved my father, but there were moments where I thought he was growing angrier by the second. For no other reason than the fact that he was alone.

  “Sorry. Dropped the phone,” he said.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “Nothing,” he said.

  “You’re working right now, aren’t you?”

  He sighed. “I’m working on another case with a motorcycle crew I came into contact with, and I can’t find anything.”

  “You mean, anything to pin on them?”

  “I mean, evidence of what I already know they’re sticking their feet in.”

  “Uh huh. And what has this gang done to you?” I asked.

  “Other than being comprised of a bunch of men who toe the line between gray and black and constantly skirt the law? Nothing,” he said.

  “Daddy, if you can’t find anything on them, then maybe there’s nothing to find.”

  He paused. “What did you say?”

  “Look, I’m just saying that you should arrest people you know have done something wrong instead of chasing after you people you think are doing something wrong.”

  “I don’t think anything, Hayde. I know. I just can’t talk to you about what I know because some of the investigations are still pending. Like the one I’m working on.”

  His voice was harsh, and I was concerned that if I talked anymore, he’d sniff me out.

  “But I am close,” he said with a sigh. “I might have a way to catch them if my intel is correct.”

  “And what intel is this?” I asked.

  “Can’t talk. I have to go. But we’ll talk soon. Okay, sweetheart?”

  “Yep. Talk soon,” I said.

  I hung up the phone on my father and groaned. He always did this. Every time the memory of Mom got too much for him to bear, he threw himself into work. The last three times he’d done this, he had almost gotten himself killed. I mean, hell, the last time he did it, he killed a man! At some storage facility! Not like he told me himself. I practically had to pin his partner with my stare to get out of him what the hell my father had gotten himself into.

  Is he going after Stone’s club?

  I closed my eyes and tried to envision the logo on the back of his leather jacket. I saw parts of it. Some letters. “Lost” something. Or maybe “lose.” Or “love?” No, “love” didn’t sound tough enough. Not for the gruff man I had come into contact with.

  I found myself hoping he wasn’t going after Stone’s club.

  I wasn't sure why, though. I mean, for all I knew, I’d never hear from the man again. In fact, part of me was prepared for it. Prepared for the one night stand we were. And yet, part of me wanted him to call again. Part of me wanted to see him again.

  A big part of me, actually.

  “Work,” I said, sighing.

  I needed to focus on work.

  I dicked around with more paperwork and got ahead on tomorrow’s scheduled necessities. Then, it was time for my own dinner break. My boss came knocking on my door and invited me to the sandwich shop she loved so much, and I was down for it. They had a few things on their menu some of my coworkers told me were worth trying. Like the vegetarian sub piled high with mushrooms and the reuben on rye with a dipping sauce that was apparently good enough to tip up and drink.

  Actually, that sounded like a really good dinner. With a package of chips and a frozen lemonade.

  But even dinner with my boss while we discussed my suggestions for the feeding troughs didn’t really rip my mind from Stone. He was still there, lingering. His smell was still there, taunting me. The feel of his hands gripping my hips was still there, haunting me.

  Making me beg and pray to all the gods above that he called me. Or showed up at my work. Or did anything to show me he wanted a second round of things. To get drinks again and be with me again. To wake up against my body again and feel me again.

  Anything, if it meant being around him again.

  15

  Stone

  A knock came at the lodge door just as church had gotten over with. We paused, looking around the room at one another. My eyes flickered around the group. One by one. Trying to figure out who the fuck had brought someone out to our lodge on the ocean.

  Notch held up his hands. “Don’t look at me. I don’t bring women around this place.”

  Texas scoffed. “Only four times have you done that shit.”

  “Yeah, which is why we had to move our damn lodge in the first place. Remember Lila?” Bronx asked.

  A knock came again, and this time harder. Immediately, my men drew their weapons. I placed my finger against my lips, telling them to shut the hell up so I could figure out what the fuck was going on.

  Then, a familiar voice wafted through the door.

  “Stone, open up.”

  I furrowed my brow. I just got off the phone with this asshole half an hour ago. What the fuck was Harry doing at the lodge?

  I looked over at Texas and he nodded at me. He strode over to the door and opened it, revealing the small man standing behind it. With slits for eyes filled with a black essence I didn’t like. Harry Cheng was here to pay us a visit.

  An unannounced, unplanned visit.

  “Shut the door,” I said.

  Texas let the man in, with his tailored business suit and his piece flashing at us from his hip.

  “Take his gun,” I said.

  “Excuse me?” Harry asked.

 
“Notch,” I said curtly.

  Notch walked over there and took Harry’s gun before he was allowed to come into the living room.

  “And don’t worry, I know you have one on your ankle. But your pants are pretty tight. I’ll have a gun on you before you can bend down to reach for it,” I said.

  “Is that any way to treat a guest in your home?” Harry asked.

  “It is when they come unannounced after a phone call thirty minutes ago. You were already on your way over here, weren’t you?”

  Harry shrugged. “We all have our lots in life.”

  “That didn’t answer my question.”

  “Well, you aren’t answering my boss’s questions. So, I’m not answering yours.”

  “What the hell are you doing, showing up unannounced like this?” I asked.

  “It took my boss’s men a little while to figure out what was going on. But we got the answers we sought. The shipment is coming in at three this afternoon with the truck taking the back port roads. It’s going to be stopping halfway where the load is transferred, then it will be brought here. Around the back of the lodge and stored in your storage container you have buried in the side of this cliff you guys sit on.”

  My eyes flickered over to Notch and the shock on his face told me Harry was right.

  “You’re digging into our operations? Where do you get off?” I asked.

  “Apparently, you and your crew are under the impression that you're in control. I’m here to set the record straight,” Harry said.

  “Oh, really? And exactly how are you going to do that?”

  “My boss has another shipment coming in and he’s no longer comfortable doing business over the phone. For multiple reasons, one including the fact that you’re now answering your men’s phones.”

  “They’re my men. I’ll answer their phones if I want to,” I said.

  “And my boss doesn’t like that very much. He doesn't like it when his distributors start to buck up to him. That’s the phrase you guys use, right? Bucking up?”

  I glared at him as the guys gathered around Harry. One by one. In a circle, trapping him off from the rest of the world.

  “Don’t worry, my men have your lodge surrounded. Before you can put a bullet in my head, they’ll pepper your bodies with lead,” Harry said.

  “What. The ever blessed fuck. Do you want?” I asked.

  “We have weapons to unload that are already on their way across the ocean. Set to arrive at multiple ports in the next five days. My boss expects you to take the shipment, pay us for it, and run them. Just like you’ve always done.”

  “I told you we were laying low for a while. We had to put a stalling on those shipments.”

  “You did, yes. And, like the good man I am, I relayed that information to Yung. But he doesn't care. None of us care about the undercover cop in your ranks. As far as my boss is concerned, that is your issue to deal with. Not ours. He has assessed the risks and has determined that your shipments will continue to arrive as scheduled.”

  “Harry, you’re going to get us all arrested, or worse. We aren’t accepting—”

  “We don’t care about your problems. You’ve proven that you’re loyal. That you’ll cut us out of the information pipe. So, either continue taking your shipments, or my boss is prepared to find other buyers for the shipment. Other crews to run our merchandise. Are we clear?” he asked.

  “No, we aren’t clear, and we aren’t done. You don’t get to roll up into my lodge and start telling me what I will and will not do with my crew. You get your fuckin’ faceless boss on the phone and tell him it’s not fuckin’ happening.”

  The ricocheting of cocked guns filtered through the walls of the lodge. My men whipped around, drawing their weapons at lightning speed. I held Harry’s gaze. I was ready to go down in a blaze of glory if that’s what it meant for this club. So long as my men made it out safely.

  “I’ll throw you to the dogs, if necessary,” I growled.

  “I’m sure you won’t. Have Notch call me once this newest shipment has arrived. We expect payment on time, as always from your crew. Expect another haul in five or six days. I’ll call with the details, like I always do,” Harry said.

  “I’ve got three in my sights,” Bronx said.

  “I’ve got another two,” Texas said.

  “I’ve got four walking around outside,” Notch said.

  Way to fuckin’ many men for us to take on at once with the pistols we had at our sides. There was only one way out of this, at least for now. And while I hated it, I had to make sure I kept my men safe until we could come up with a plan.

  Maybe we’d kill Harry and this Yung guy instead.

  “All right,” I said.

  “Good. I’m glad we could come to an agreement. And remember, Notch owes me a phone call in…” He looked down at his watch. “Four or so hours.”

  I gnashed my teeth together as Harry put his fingers in his mouth. And with an ear-piercing whistle, his men began to retreat. He bowed softly before making his way out of our lodge, leaving our damn door hanging wide open. I walked up to the doorway and watched him leave. My men gathered behind me, watching as Harry and his army of goons jumped into a massive black SUV. Fuckin’ hell, I hated men with money. They thought they could own the world just because their wallets were bursting at the seams.

  “The hell are we gonna do now?” Texas asked.

  I stayed silent until I knew Harry and his men were out of sight down the road.

  I backed into the lodge and closed the door. I locked it, then turned to my men. They were a mixture of scared and angry. And while I would have usually chastised them for being afraid, this was one of those moments where it was warranted. We had been officially backed into a dangerous corner. One that threatened to take us all down in the process.

  “What the hell are we supposed to do? I’ve already told our buyers we’re putting things on hold,” Notch said.

  “And I’ve adjusted the books to make sure our accounts reflect regular deposits and withdrawals so as to not raise any flags,” Bronx said.

  My mind raced as Texas stared me down. I knew he was worried. Worried for my sister. Worried for my niece. I saw the anger in his eyes. How pissed off he was that I had agreed to anything without having an open-floor discussion about it.

  “Why are we taking this risk?” Texas asked.

  “Because the other option means our eventual fall, and our death. If Yung wants to track us down, we’ll be on the run for our lives if we don’t listen,” I said.

  “Or that damn detective is still hot on our trail and he catches us running one of our damn shipments!” Bronx exclaimed.

  When he rose his voice, so did everyone else. They argued around me, pointing fingers and growing louder. Spit fell to the floor. The dull roar raged into an all-out nightmarish sound. And as the thrumming of the rhythmic anger rattled my ribcage, I formulated a plan in my mind.

  It was simple. We didn’t have a choice. If we didn’t do this, Jin Yung would find someone else. We’d be out of the gun-running game, and it would take ages to build up another form of income like the one we’ve had. My men had bills. Debts. Things they needed to pay off without taking a hit to their income stream. But we also had to maintain some source of income, otherwise we’d be shot anyway. Even though continuing to run the guns was risky, at best. I had a feeling we could still do it. If we offered the guns at a discount and only took a small hit to our pockets, we could get our clients to agree to some hinky shit to get their top-of-the-food chain weapons until I could find us another revenue stream.

  “Bronx?” I asked.

  “What?” he asked.

  I shot him a look. “Fix the tone.”

  “Sorry. What is it, Stone?” he asked.

  “How’s the bar doing?”

  “What?”

  “How’s the fuckin’ bar doing? I mean, how’s profits? What’d we gross last month?” I asked.

  He furrowed his brow. “Seventy-two th
ousand, one hundred and twenty-four dollars. Give or take some pennies. Why?”

  “And how much of that would we be able to pay out as income without compromising the bar?”

  “What are you thinking, Stone?” Texas asked.

  I held my hand up. “Answer the question, Bronx.”

  He shrugged. “Assuming we put back into the bar what we usually do to maintain it and pay staff, technically fifty thousand of that can be theoretically taken as excess money.”

  That would only make up a third of what my men were used to bringing in a month.

  “What if we opened it to the public?” I asked.

  “What?” Bronx asked.

  “Fuckin’ hell, stop with the questions and answer mine. You’ve been rattlin’ my ear off for months about it. What happens if we open it to the public?”

  “It—we—double the revenue, almost automatically, with how I’ve got the plans drawn up,” he said.

  Still, we’d need another revenue stream.

  “Okay. Here’s what we’re gonna do. Notch, call up our clients. They’re set up to pick up their guns tonight that are coming in, right?” I asked.

  “Yep. Bronx and I are running and distributing all night.”

  “Good. Tell them when you see them that we’re running some specials on the next shipment that’s due next week. Tell them they’ll only get the discount if they meet us at a preferred location, though.”

  “Uh huh. And what preferred location would this be?” Bronx asked.

  “To be determined. Tell them we put everything on hold because the guns that were originally shipped weren’t the right ones. Someone tried to sell us the cheap shit. I honestly don’t care about the damn lie, just sell it and get them to agree to a fifteen percent discount if they meet us at a preferred location of our choosing. That gives us time to scout out an area, set up a decoy storage unit in case that damn detective is on our tail, and sell off this next shipment of guns.”

  “We’re going to be hopping around for a while, aren’t we?” Texas asked.

  I nodded. “It’s the only way—”

  My phone vibrated in my pocket and I pulled it out. I saw I had a text message from a burner phone. But I knew who it was. Harry was the only person I knew who was this paranoid about phones. I opened the message and it was a running script. Untangling itself and decrypting itself from whatever software Harry had used to send me this communication.