by Franca Storm
I shove him back. Get away from my girl! “Watch it, asshole.”
He looks between me and Smiter. Smiter’s tensed, on high alert, ready to step in at any time if Ralph loses his shit. You touch one of us, you fuck with all of us. That’s our code right there.
But he don’t make a move. Instead, he shoots daggers at Rox and yells, “Is this how it is now? These asshole thugs acting as your damn bodyguards, Rox?”
Her eyes narrow. “I don’t need bodyguards. Don’t ever forget that.”
He blows out a breath and rubs the stupid goatee on his face. “Fuck, Rox. You’re such a cold-hearted bitch.”
“Hey!” I warn.
“Stay out of this,” he tells me. “This is between me and her, Barron.”
Fuck him. I step into his space, but a hand presses against my chest. Rox. She looks up at me and shakes her head. “Living room,” she tells Ralph.
She slides her hand down my chest—clearly an attempt to calm me—and then leads Ralph through to the living room next door. Smiter raises his eyebrows at me. Yeah, intense.
Barely a second passes before a mother of an argument blows up, their voices carrying through the entire house:
“You went to war, Rox! You fucking went to war!”
“I told you I was going to. I didn’t need to run it by you, because you’re out now, remember?”
What? He’s out? She’s on her own now? So, that’s why she was in such a state earlier then.
“Screw you, Rox. Most of our boys are dead! It’s all over the damn city. Massacred in a bloodbath by the Devil’s Mavericks!”
“I know. I was there, Ralph!”
“They’re dead, because of you!”
Oh shit. That’s harsh. Smiter catches my eye and I see he agrees with me there. That was a low fucking blow Ralph just dealt her. Putting all those deaths on her. Was a complicated situation. I get what she was tryin’ to do. Hell, we woulda already done it if Prez hadn’t been playing it too damn safe. Shit just got complicated. She was set up. Somebody tipped off the Mavs. They were watching her.
She screams then, the sound ripping right through me. “No!”
“Yes. You were reckless. Power-mad, like I warned you and you reacted on that.”
“I reacted, because those assholes have attacked places under my protection. Places that I’m supposed to guarantee as safe. I had to retaliate.”
“Oh right, to save face?”
“That’s not what I meant. The Mavs pulling that shit was calling for war. I just answered the call, Ralph! I don’t back down. I never will! This is MY city!”
“You’re crazed, Rox. I told you not to get mixed up with MC crap. And here you are attacking the Mavs. And, you’re clearly still fucking Ax, despite me warning you. He will screw you up. Even now his influence is obvious. All the reckless behavior you put behind you a few years ago, is back with a vengeance. He brings it out in you. Let him go, Rox! Walk away from this! What happened today is your wakeup call.”
“They killed our boys and you expect me to walk away now?”
“They will kill you!”
“Let them try.”
“Fuck, Rox. These guys are your poison. Not just the Mavs. Your involvement with the Thorns, too. Thought you were gonna kick the guy to the curb.”
“Well, I haven’t. Okay?”
“Why?”
“Because…there’s something there.”
Smiter’s gaze snaps to mine and he mouths, Whoa. Shit, this is the first time she’s admitted there’s something between us. And the one time she does it, it’s to her friend instead of to me. A fucking revelation there though.
“You love him? Because that’s not what I meant when we had that talk about you settling down. Not him, Rox. Not a biker like him. He’s the VP of a MC—your dad’s MC. That association with them is what killed your mom and now you’re getting involved with it? What the fuck is wrong with you? You think you can play the game, is that it? You can’t. And you think Ax will have your back when you need it? He won’t. The club always comes first with guys like him. You’ll just be there for him to get his dick wet cuz he’s tired of loose club whore pussy. That’s it.”
I growl and make a move towards the living room, but Smiter pushes me back, shaking his head.
“I won’t let that happen. And love? We just met, Ralph. Come on.”
“Sure. Okay. Good fucking luck with that. You can’t control everything. Once you’re wrapped up in that kind of life, the only way out is death.”
“No, I CAN control it.”
“Whatever, Rox. You and I? That’s it.”
“Ralph—”
“No. You’ve made your choice. Power over all else, right? I knew it. Well, I don’t want a part of it. Keep your distance. The Mavs will put out a hit soon enough and I don’t want you bringing that kind of heat around me and Michaela, so keep away.”
Fucking pussy.
A second later, he comes storming back through the lobby, brushing past me and Smiter without a single look or word. He hauls open the front door and slams it behind him.
Before me or Smiter can even react, Rox rushes past us, hauls open the door and bolts down the porch steps, going after Ralph. The two of us are out the door, following after her in the next second. Ralph’s opening the door to his car when Rox screams at the top of her lungs, “He tried to rape me that day, Ralph!”
All three of us freeze.
I fucking knew it! That piece of shit! He’s dead! Dead!
Ralph turns ‘round and chokes, “What? Why didn’t you tell me that? You told me he hurt you. I knew that much. He didn’t like you asking questions about you dad’s death and you showing up at his home.”
“His home?” I say, before I can stop myself. “Which one?”
“A cottage in butt-fuck nowhere,” Ralph answers. “Nightridge…something.”
Adrenaline spikes through me at the mention of it. They’re talking ‘bout my old childhood home. The home my mom lived in ‘til the day she was murdered.
“I…couldn’t.” She wraps her arms ‘round herself and looks down at the sidewalk as she says, “I didn’t know he was dangerous to me and I…I let my guard down with him, because of his connection to my dad. I was a biker princess, the daughter of a MC President that he did business with at one point. I didn’t think he’d hurt me. But he did.” She rubs her arm. “There was blood everywhere. I couldn’t fight back, because it hurt so much. I wasn’t prepared for that level of pain. And then…” she stops to look at me, her face twisted in agony. “…then Kim came in.”
I step back in shock. “My mom?” I choke.
She nods. “She saw what he was…doing…and she shot him and forced him out of the house.”
Me and Smiter exchange a look as the realization hits us at the same time. The day she was killed Skinner sent me a message, telling me she’d died for interfering in his business. The timing works out, too. The business he meant was his attack on Rox. Fucking hell.
My mom died, cuz she’d saved Rox’s life.
Fuck. This shit’s too fucking heavy.
“That’s why I called war, Ralph. Because, he’s coming here and I can’t let that happen. He took my power that day. He took it away and I won’t let that happen again.”
Ralph goes to her then, wrapping his arms ‘round her, comforting her.
I know I should do something too. But I can’t.
It was my mom’s life for hers that day. And that’s too fucking brutal to handle. I can’t be ‘round her right now.
I turn to Smiter. “Let’s bounce. We gotta head back to Reirdon Falls anyway.”
He don’t argue. He gets it.
I hear Rox calling after me, but I don’t stop. I just keep walking.
Chapter 16
~Ax~
I lift my chin at the two prospects manning the gates at the front of the ten-foot-high chain-link fence surrounding the Black Thorns clubhouse as they wave me and Smiter on through.
&
nbsp; It took us half a day to get back here, cuz of my damn arm. I couldn’t ride for more than a half hour without it being a little bitch and forcing me to stop. We had to stop so many goddamn times. Smiter, patient guy he always is, didn’t say a word. Didn’t even seem pissed off that I was dragging out our journey back.
For the first time since I started riding as a kid, it was a complete pain in the ass being on my bike, cuz of the damn gunshot wound. The bullet I’d taken to protect Rox.
Shit. At least we’re finally back now.
I notice Trig had Smiter beef up security before he sent him down to Brockford to back me up. The gates are usually enough on normal days when we ain’t holding pussy parties or BBQs for the boys’ families. But after the massacre that just went down on Rox’s guys, I ain’t surprised. He’s taking the threat seriously. Good. Looks like he might be on board with what I’m dead set on doing. Gotta get club permission first. Can’t act alone, something made brutally clear to me when I did act one time without ‘em when I used to be Sergeant-at-Arms for the Thorns. Had my ass handed to me for it.
As me and Smiter pull up, I see Zeb “Runner” Wilkes, our Road Captain, stumbling outta the clubhouse with his tongue shoved down the throat of the brunette wrapped ‘round him. He laughs and peels her arms from ‘round his neck. Slapping her ass, he points to the gates, sending her off. She gives me a good eye-fucking as she walks by, her tight ass swaying in her booty shorts. Ain’t as nice as Rox’s. What? Stop it. Get that bitch outta your head.
“Nice, huh?” Runner says as I walk up with Smiter following close behind.
I shrug. “Just all right.”
“You saw her tits, yeah?”
“Fake and hard as hell, I bet.”
“Sweet ass, though,” Smiter chimes in.
“Yeah,” Runner agrees. He frowns at me. “What’s crawled up your ass, Ax?”
“Nothing,” I grumble. “Just need a fucking drink.”
He slaps my shoulder—the uninjured one thankfully—and leads me inside the clubhouse. “I’ll have Billy hook you up.”
“I gotta check on security. Make sure the guys didn’t screw nothing up in my absence,” Smiter tells us. “Have a whiskey on me.”
“Will do,” I tell him.
He smiles and takes off through the clubhouse.
I look ‘round as me and Runner make our way over to the bar where Billy, our newest prospect’s, running ‘round cleaning shit that don’t need cleaning, cuz the place is dead right now. Just turned 7am so the bar ain’t officially open and all the boys are probably sleeping off their hangovers and whores from last night upstairs.
Over to my left, the stools, booths, the pool area—all of it’s spotless. This new guy is doing a bang up job. He knows how to pull his weight, unlike some of the others. He’s been like that since Mullet brought him in ten months ago. Excelled at all the training thrown his way and never once complained. He’s got my vote. Kid will likely be patched in soon.
Speaking of Mullet, aka Gus Elver, I notice him hunched over the bar on one of the stools, groaning.
“Bourbon,” I hear him bark at Billy as me and Runner approach.
Runner slides onto the stool next to him and slaps him on the back. “Late nights taking their toll, old man?”
Mullet turns his head and gives him a death stare that would have lesser men pissing their pants. “Fucking kid. This old man can still kick your skinny little ass.”
He probably could too. He’s a big guy like me, unlike Runner who’s much smaller with a pretty boy face and spiky hair full of gel that the rest of us give him shit for. Agile as fuck though and quick as a cat in a fight. But Mullet’s got the experience of forty odd years running with the Thorns under his belt. Guy’s got balls of steel, even if he does look like he just stepped outta an eighties hairband with that hair of his. Yeah, a mullet. Fortunately for his rep, he never went in for the girly fashion that those prissy pricks used to sport back then. I swear he’s been wearing the same oversized white t-shirt and baggy holey jeans for the last couple of decades that I’ve known him. Probably way longer. He’s the guy who trains all the prospects, takes ‘em under his wing. Feels like a lifetime ago when me and Runner were in that boat. We came up together. He’s the closest thing to a best friend I got.
“What’s up with you?” Mullet asks me.
Runner signals Billy to bring us over a couple of scotches.
“Nothing,” I respond, snatching up the glass that Billy slides to me and downing the damn thing in one gulp.
“Needs to get his dick wet,” Runner laughs. “Thought you woulda been getting some city pussy on that shit mission Prez sent you on.”
Mullet studies me as he sips at his bourbon. His lips crease into a knowing smile. “Looks like he did. And not club whore pussy like you, fucker. Quality. Explains his sour mood. Quality bitches usually mean complications. Maintenance. Can’t just fuck ‘n’ chuck ‘em, or you end up getting your balls handed to you. Plus, you know, those scratches on his neck give him away too.”
Runner eyes Rox’s blood-red scratches all over my neck and then he stares at me, his eyes wide. “He right, Ax?”
Fuck.
My phone buzzes in my pocket then, saving me. I pull it out and see a text: Are you okay? Rox. How’d she get my number? We never ended up exchanging cell numbers. Wow, she’s got some pull somewhere, that’s for sure.
Am I okay? No, I ain’t okay. But I sure as hell don’t feel like talking ‘bout none of that shit right now, especially not with her. I gotta get it straight in my head first. I don’t bother responding. I just stuff my phone back in my pocket.
The woman is screwing with my head. Even before I found out her connection to my mom’s murder. I can’t get a read on her. So hot and cold. I can’t figure her out. And, for the life of me, I dunno why I’m even tryin’ to. Sure, the sex was good. All right, it was more than good. Fucking mind blowing. But it weren’t just sex. Way more than that. I ain’t never felt shit like this for a woman ever and...no! Enough of this bullshit.
Suddenly, Smiter comes bursting through the bar. He storms over to the doors, clearly on a mission.
“Shit going down?” Mullet asks.
Smiter stops to dial a number on his cell. “Gonna find out.” He looks away as his call gets picked up. “Yeah. You what? Why, you dipshit? I don’t give a damn if she offered to double team with the both of you fuck ups. Yeah, you’re in trouble. No, just leave it. I’ll take care of it.” He hangs up, cursing as he puts his phone away. “Your fucking guys, Mullet,” he grumbles.
“What’d they do?”
“They just let some pushy bitch through the gates.”
“Who?”
“Dunno. They didn’t even ask her name. Too busy staring at her tits.”
“Wrong time of day for pussy, but I’ll take it,” Runner says.
Smiter shakes his head. “You horny fuck. You only just sent that brunette on her way. No doubt, you were pounding her all night long, as usual.”
Smiter and Runner’s rooms are right next door. Sucks for Smiter, cuz Runner’s the biggest whore of all of us. He can fuck all night and day and then be craving it again just minutes later. Sex addict.
A knock on the doors shuts all of us up. Nah, not a knock, more like an assault.
Smiter raises his eyebrows. “Damn, got a hard-ass knock for a woman.”
He hauls open the door aggressively, taking up the width of it so the rest of us can’t see a damn thing.
“Smiter. Long time, no see.”
I recognize the voice right away. If I were standing, I’d be on my ass just from the shock alone.
It’s Rox standing there on the doorstep.
Is she crazy? Coming to the clubhouse? Yeah, I was right the first time: bitch has a death wish.
Smiter looks back at me. I shake my head. I don’t wanna see her. Send her away.
He turns back to Rox, shifting his weight awkwardly. “Ax ain’t up for talking, sweetheart. Needs
to get his head straight, you know?” he says, kindly. Wow, he must’ve taken a liking to her. I ain’t never heard him speak to nobody so gently before, not even the women he’s tryin’ to fuck.
I can feel Runner’s gaze burning into me, wanting the story here. But I ignore him. I’m too focused on what’s going on over at the door.
“I’m not here to see him,” she answers.
“Sweetheart, as much as I like you, I ain’t going there with you. Don’t do the revenge fuck thing on my brothers, you know?”
“Urgh. No, Smiter. Trigger. I’m here to see him. A business meeting? I called him on my way up here. Aren’t you the club’s enforcer? How come you don’t know?”
“I just got back, sweetheart.”
“What? You guys left Brockford hours ago.”
“Yeah, Ax had trouble riding cuz of the gunshot wound to his arm. Nasty ache causing him pain.”
“Oh,” she says, sounding concerned. Then she does what she normally does: turns it off. She clears her throat and says, all business like, “Well, let me in. I need to see Trigger.”
That’s it!
I storm over to the door, pushing Smiter outta the way. I block the doorway with my body and glare at Rox.
“I’ll have Trig meet you somewhere else. Not here.”
Her eyes narrow. “Why not here?”
“Women ain’t allowed inside. Unless we’re throwing a pussy party. And, babe, I know you ain’t here for that, right? I mean, correct me if I’m wrong, but you don’t spread your legs for bikers, yeah? Just this biker.”
“You’re disgusting,” she spits at me.
“Go.”
But she just stands there staring me down. Stubborn ass woman!
“I know you’re upset, but—”
I scoff. “Upset? Babe, I don’t do upset. Upset is for bitches like you, not guys like me.”
She steps into me, getting in my face. “How dare you?”
“Leave.”
“This isn’t about you, Neil. Now stop being an immature, limp-dicked asshole and step aside.”
The boys wolf whistle behind me at her brutal insult.
Disrespecting me on my own turf? Ain’t fucking happening. Before I can stop myself, I call behind me to the boys, “Hates bikers, but spread her legs for me. Grade A golden pussy.” I lick my lips at her. “Virgin tight, too.”
