According to Kitty’s intel, Char had reached out to Wolf when he heard about his dissatisfaction with direction of the Saints. Apparently, Wolf was shooting his mouth off at a card game that was also attended by a few members of the Spiders. Who knows, maybe Wolf knew they were there and wanted them to hear him. Either way, word got back to Char, who then approached him about running the Portland chapter. Due to internal club issues, he didn’t have a trustworthy next in line and thought Wolf might just be his kind of asshole. Apparently, Char was right, and Wolf wasted no time secretly recruiting disgruntled Saints to go with him. Wolf was clearly smart about his choices, as no one he approached said anything to Minus or turned him down. No one until my brother that is.
I asked Sweet Pea what Wolf said to him to make him knock him on his ass, and he just shrugged and said Wolf asked him to come with him and the punch was his answer. I knew my brother well enough to know his answer was horseshit, but I also knew him enough not to press for further details. Either way, I felt bad for even having a shred of doubt about my brother’s loyalty to the club or to Minus. Still, this had to be tearing him up. Wolf, more than anyone in the club, was like a father to Sweet Pea and there had to be a part of him that wanted to go with him, especially since I know that he often disagrees with Minus. But in the end, Sweet Pea would never turn his back on me or his club brothers, and he’d clearly proved it by putting hands on a club president. Even if Wolf was some sort of puppet leader for the Spiders. The code was the code, and there were certain things a biker just didn’t do. Hitting a President was one of them, and I knew he’d have a target on his back so long as the Spiders were an active club.
Ropes
WE REACHED THE road leading to the Spiders’ clubhouse just after midnight. Killing our engines and lights, we rolled our bikes to the outer perimeter of their place, and approached the two-story, farmhouse quietly. The house was located on several acres of farmland, surrounded by a crescent-shaped ridge caused by volcanic activity from nearby Mt. Hood, a non-dormant volcano and ski resort. People call our lifestyle crazy and meanwhile motherfuckers ski down a volcano and no one bats an eyelash. The ridge surrounded the property, giving the Spiders ultimate privacy to do whatever the fuck they wanted out here. It was dark, desolate, creepy as fuck, and matched the dark mystique the club had built around itself over the years.
“This is far enough,” Minus whispered, and our group came to a halt and parked our bikes in the tall grass.
“You sure they’re all home, Prez?” Warthog asked.
“They’ve gotta go to church just like everyone else,” Minus replied. “This is when and where they do it.”
“Why at midnight?” Warthog asked.
“Probably some sort of ‘We’re evil, black cat, voo-doo bullshit,’” Minus replied. “Okay, time to go bust up a tea party,” he said and walked toward the farmhouse. His steps were slow and careful. It was dark as hell out here, and if not for the light of a nearly-full moon, he wouldn’t be able to see two steps ahead of him. Who knows what kind of booby traps the Spiders may have set out here.
From where we were positioned, we could clearly see the farmhouse as most of the inside lights were on. We could hear music and raised voices cutting through the otherwise quiet night. Minus continued to creep forward in the darkness until a spotlight flooded directly down on him. He froze in place and calmly put his hands in the air.
“Who the fuck are you?” a raspy voice called out from what sounded like a rear, second story window.
“Minus, from the Burning Saints. I came to talk to Wolf,” he shouted back.
“What are you doing here, Minus?”
“I’ve got business.”
“I doubt you’ve got any business being here tonight.”
“Look, I know Wolf is in there. I’m unarmed, and I just want to talk. He’s gonna want to hear what I have to say, believe me.”
The spotlight tuned off with a loud clank and a row of soft lights came up on the back porch, revealing Wolf, and what appeared to be his new officers standing in a row. From what I could make out, his cabinet was a mixture of longtime Spiders and some of those that had defected from the Saints. I wanted to break the line and tear Wolf’s throat out myself but stowed that shit immediately.
“Minus, I’ve always known you to be a man that respected tradition,” Wolf bellowed. “So, it surprises the holy, living fuck outta me that you’d show up uninvited, during church.”
“Sounds more like a party than church.”
“Maybe you haven’t heard, the Spiders are patching in their new Portland Chapter President tonight,” Wolf said, his arms stretched out.
“I guess my invitation got lost in the mail.” Minus mocked a smile and slowly lowered his hands.
“Must be it. I’ll tell the boys you dropped by. Most of them are inside, including one youngster with an eyepatch that would love some time alone with your boy Ropes.”
“The Peckers came at him and his old lady,” Minus replied. “They defended themselves.”
“The Peckers are now named Slammer and Flash and are full-patch members of the Spiders, and your boy is gonna pay.
“Congratulations to them,” Minus said dryly.
“Slammer nearly died from a knife wound, and Flash lost an eye. You think we’re gonna let that slide?”
“Like I said, your boys came after Ropes, so the way I see it, our clubs are even on that.”
“Well that ain’t the way we see it.”
Minus shrugged. “It’s probably not the way Flash sees it either, with the one eye and all.”
The tension of the moment squashed my urge to laugh at what was some grade A shit talk from Minus.
“Keep making jokes now, Minus. You won’t be laughing when we’re mailing you Ropes’s fingers, the way he mails teeth. Flash has a pair of pruning shears and a plan for which finger he removes on which day of the week.”
I grit my teeth and used every ounce of self-control I had to not call out to Flash and Wolf to come at me right then and there.
“I’ll be sure to tell him,” Minus said, calmly.
“You do that,” Wolf replied. “You be sure to tell that brother of his I’m gonna personally do a lot worse to him next time we cross paths.”
“Look, Wolf. I’m not here to start shit, I’m here to end it. I’m here to talk business.”
“What the fuck kind of business could I possibly have with you?”
“The business of staying in business,” Minus replied. “Word is out about Char’s plans to deal in Portland and Seattle and I’m here to advise you to ditch that plan.”
By now, some of other Spiders’ members had joined their brothers on the porch. Wolf dialed up his bravado. “You think you get to dictate the way money flows around here? I don’t think you quite understand the current balance of power, Minus. The Spiders already own Gresham, and with you and the Saints gone, we’ll take over all of Portland soon enough. We’re gonna push north through Seattle and we ain’t gonna stop until we hit ice, motherfucker. Shit, I’ll put Spiders patches on dudes with snowmobiles and dog sleds if I want.”
The Spiders cheered in support of their new chapter President.
“The entire Northwest, huh?” Minus asked.
“Who’s gonna fucking stop me? The Burning Saints? You’re out of the blood business Minus. You’ve been banging that drum like Jack fucking Henry for everyone in town to hear.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m gonna roll over and let you take Portland. The Burning Saints are always going to ride in our home town. Just because we’re not earning by the sword doesn’t mean I won’t spill blood, mine or yours. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect my club. Make no mistake about that.”
“Or, I could just kill you right here and now,” Wolf spat out.
My hand gripped my pistol. I wanted so badly to fire right at the head of that traitorous bastard but reminded myself again to stick to the plan.
Wolf continued, “The same guy that
had that spotlight on you earlier, has a bead on your cranium with a high-powered rifle. He’s equipped with a night vision scope and did four tours as an Army sniper. All I have to do is give the signal and you’re dead before you hit the ground.”
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Minus replied.
“Why the fuck not?” Wolf challenged.
Minus let out two short whistles and those of us that rode in with Minus hit our headlights, revealing his ground support, but shielding our identities.
“It looks like even more people came to my party,” Wolf howled. “Well, don’t I feel fuckin’ special? Nice turnout, but it still doesn’t explain why I shouldn’t just waste you right here and now. I count a few headlights, but we still outnumber your asses big-time.”
“Well, you see,” Minus drawled. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” He let out two more whistles, and those of us that were armed, fired our flare guns into the air simultaneously. Seconds later, the night sky was illuminated by a bright red flash, which revealed the silhouette of around seventy-five armed bikers positioned on the ridgeline above the property.
“The Burning Saints alone may not have the numbers or the fire power to take you on, but together we all do,” Minus said, motioning to the mass of bikers that loomed over their clubhouse. “Unlike the Spiders, the Saints have tried to build bridges and mend fences with other local clubs over the years. The Dogs of Fire in Portland, the Primal Howlers in Monument, and the Dead Presidents in Seattle are standing with us to send you a message.”
“What message would that be?” Wolf sneered.
“The Spiders need to back down.”
“Or what?” Wolf laughed. “Even with the Dogs, Howlers, and Dead Presidents backing you, you still don’t have enough firepower or manpower to stop the Spiders.”
“That’s where he comes in,” Minus motioned behind him, and an elderly Mexican man, dressed in white, stepped out of the darkness.
The gathering of Spiders muttered among themselves, clearly surprised to see the founder of Los Psychos standing with Minus. The infamous Mexican club had recently been at war with the Burning Saints, but Minus had brokered a peace treaty dependent on a fair handoff of the protection rackets from our club to theirs. No one expected the peace to last, as Los Psychos were notorious on both sides of the border as being as brutal as an MC could be.
“You know El Cacto,” Minus said. “And you know that he and I have a deal, the protection business in Portland belongs to him now.”
“That was your deal, not the Spiders’,” Wolf shouted back.
“That makes no difference to Los Psychos. Interfere with my business and you’ll deal with my soldiers,” El Cacto said.
Minus gave his final signal, launching a second volley of flares into the sky.
This time, over a hundred members of Los Psychos came riding in from the outer darkness, pipes blaring, signaling everyone on the ridge to ride down and join Minus with the rest of the Burning Saints. All together, we were over two hundred strong. Most of us armed, all of us ready for a reason to end Wolf right then and there. Once everyone had reached the bottom of the basin, we killed our engines, and a cloud of dust passed over El Cacto and Minus as he called out to Wolf once again.
“This is your last warning. Stay out of Portland, and you tell Char that his plans for expansion have been cancelled. You and the Spiders have broken the code, and the code still stands for something.”
“What the fuck do you know about the code? What do you know about loyalty? You’re the one that’s gonna get your whole fuckin’ club killed. Mark my words, boy. You ain’t warning me, I’m warning you.”
“So, you’re choosing war?” Minus asked.
“I’m saying I’ll talk to Char about this and whatever he says, stands. If he says strap up, then so be it, but if he says make the peace then maybe I’ll only cripple you instead of kill you.”
“You are playing a dangerous game my friend,” El Cacto said.
“Unlike your new amigo there, I don’t play around, old man. I’ll stand down for now and let you all ride the fuck outta here in one piece, but I can assure you this ain’t over.”
“No, it’s not. The Spiders’ meth trade has flourished in Gresham only because Los Psychos have allowed it. We’ve kept an eye on your club over the years, and you’ve always stayed within your bounds, but now Char is getting greedy, so Los Psychos needs to rethink our position on your club.”
“You do all the thinking you want, old man. It doesn’t mean we have to do what you say,” Wolf said to El Cacto before turning and pointing at Minus, “And you’d better watch your back.”
“You’re not just picking a fight with our club anymore, Wolf. You’re starting a war.”
“It wasn’t me that brought these people onto our land. You dragged these clubs into your fight because you’re not man enough to handle shit on your own.”
“Char drew first blood when he poached you from the Saints.”
“Poached me?” Wolf laughed. “Who the fuck told you Char poached me. I came to the Spiders because I wanted to ride with a real club again. I want to drink Jager, eat pussy and make real fucking money again. A bunch of your club members feel the same way, they’re just too chicken shit to say so. The ones that weren’t scared, the smart ones, came with me.”
“There’s nothing smart about this play, Wolf,” Minus said.
“I guess we’ll see, won’t we? Now, you go ahead and join the rest of the Justice League and ride on out of here. I’ll talk to Char and get back to you with our answer about halting our expansion plans, but stick around here any longer, and I don’t care how many of you there are, shots are gonna start flying.”
“You know where to find me,” Minus said, and joined us before leading our convoy back to the highway.
Devlin
THE SOUND OF motorcycles approaching made my heart race. I was still completely terrified of those death machines, but now when I heard pipes I thought of Ropes, and when I thought of Ropes, my body reacted. Ropes and some of the other officers had been gone all day on club business and I hadn’t been able to reach him. I’d texted, but no response, which was totally unlike him.
A physical reaction at the mere thought of a man was something entirely new to me. I’d heard being in love described as butterflies in the stomach, but thinking about Ropes gave me a feeling more akin to a swarm of bees whose hive had just been disturbed. Being with Ropes meant constantly walking an emotional tightrope between feeling completely safe, and utterly terrified.
On one hand, I knew that, together, he and I could face any challenge. On the other, I knew there would be a lot of challenges to come. This was already evident by the fact that I’d been staying in Ropes’s cramped bedroom for the better part of a week, hiding out like some sort of fugitive while he, Minus, and the others were preparing for a turf war.
I heard several bikes pull in through the security gate and park. I stood up and checked myself in the dresser mirror. I was wearing a new bra that looked great, but didn’t quite fit right. Ropes loved my tits, so I always made sure they were perfectly on display. Truth be told, I felt my sexiest when the girls were out to play. As I cupped my left breast to make the needed adjustment, my fingernail grazed my nipple, sending shivers up my spine. I paused for a moment before repeating the motion, this time increasing the pressure of my nail against the sensitive skin. I let out a quiet gasp and my left hand slid underneath my jeans, between my thighs. I knew Ropes would be walking through the door at any moment, but the pressure of my hand felt amazing against my wet pussy. I pinched my nipple harder and widened my stance as I fingered my swollen clit, my breathing now reduced to short gasps. I increased both the speed and pressure of my movements as I envisioned Ropes walking in on me and finishing the job. I was ready to feel his beard against my inner thighs. Ready for his tongue to replace my fingers. But more than anything I was ready for him to…
A knock at the bedroom door bro
ke my rhythm. And I huffed sexual frustration before calling out, “Come in.” I had spontaneously worked myself into a tizzy and needed Ropes to fuck me, immediately.
“You wanna give me a hand?” I asked playfully, turning to see Cricket, Minus’s old lady and club business manager standing in the doorway. She was dressed in a charcoal grey suit jacket and skirt. I, on the other hand, was in jeans, a t-shirt, and two knuckles deep into my flower pot.
“Jebus!” I screamed, frantically stuffing lady lefty back into the ill-fitting garment that started all of this.
“Should I come back another time?” Cricket asked, smiling.
“No,” I said, completely mortified. “I was just… getting dressed. I… I thought you were Ropes.”
“Clearly,” she replied with a wink.
“I’m so embarrassed,” I said, just as Ropes arrived.
“Hey, Cricket,” Ropes greeted her with a kiss on the cheek. “What are you embarrassed about baby?”
“I—”
Cricket jumped in before I made an even bigger fool of myself. “Devlin just needed to borrow something from me. Lady stuff. No concern of yours.”
“Say no more,” Ropes said, throwing his hands in the air.
“Speaking of borrowing,” Cricket continued. “May I borrow Devlin for a bit?”
My head snapped to Cricket. “Me?”
“Just for a few minutes, if you have the time,” Cricket replied cheerily.
“Sure, of course,” I said, unable to fathom what Cricket needed to talk to me about.
Ropes Page 19
