Sins of the Father

by Marie James

“Get on with it,” Molly urges, rolling her arm in a circular motion. “Get to the asshole part.”

  She’s never been one to tolerate long-winded stories, and it makes me smile to realize even back here where nothing is normal to me, she’s exactly the same.

  “When I walked out I heard Lynch say he doesn’t trust me, and then TJ says you aren’t supposed to trust whores.”

  “That’s it?” she asks no concern in her voice. “That doesn’t seem so bad.”

  “Your brother just called me a whore,” I counter.

  “You sat on Lynch’s face within minutes of meeting him.”

  It was probably closer to seconds, but I’m not going to argue the timeline since it doesn’t benefit me in this particular situation.

  “Around here that makes you a whore,” Molly continues.

  “Wow,” I mutter. “With friends like you…”

  She chuckles, and my cheeks heat with anger.

  “You don’t get it.”

  “Clearly,” I agree.

  “Almost every woman who walks through the front doors of the clubhouse is a whore.”

  “It’s what all of the guys I saw last night expect?”

  “It is,” she confirms.

  “Then why be so insulting about it? More bees with honey and all that.”

  “You can’t look at MC life and compare it to any form of traditional society. The word whore is insulting to you because of the standards you were raised in. Those standards don’t apply here. The women in the clubhouse aren’t insulted at being called a whore. They’re here to willingly please the men around them. They are worshipped and provided for in exchange for a good time,” she explains. “They don’t think for a second that what they do is degrading, and neither do the men because it isn’t. It’s just a way of life around here.”

  “So being a whore is a good thing here?” It still doesn’t make sense to me.

  “It’s mostly said in reverence. The use of the word is synonymous with the word woman.”

  “And if one of the guys from last called you a whore?”

  She laughs as she pushes the blankets back and finally crawls out of bed. “Okay, maybe not equal to woman. More like meaning a woman who’s available for sex. Which according to both of my brothers, I never will be. If one of the guys called me a whore, they’d probably end up—”

  She cuts herself off before she completes the sentence, but I hear it clear as day.

  They’d end up dead.

  In most situations, I wouldn’t bat an eye, but I have a feeling that things are more than a little different around here.

  Here, the phrase I can’t be late, or my parents will kill me may mean exactly what the words imply.

  “My point,” Molly snaps when I just stare at her in horror, “Is that all you have to do is tell them you aren’t a whore. There’re plenty of women around to sate their needs. No one around here is going to force you to do anything you don’t want.”

  “Tell them no,” I agree. “Got it.”

  “You’ll be saying it a lot today, I’m guessing,” she says with a quick but sad smile. “Once word spreads that Lynch was with you last night, every man in the clubhouse is going to be looking for a piece of that action.”

  “Just when I thought I was beginning to understand,” I mutter as I walk to her closet to try to find something to wear.

  “Lynch is the first one to break in the new girls if he's interested. The chick I saw scampering out of that very room you were in with him last night? It was probably her first night there as well.”

  “She mentioned it.” While she was fucking him, I continue silently.

  “There’s a very good chance he’ll never touch her again. He doesn’t go back to the same girl twice.” Molly reaches past me to tug a t-shirt off a hanger. “The guys will eat her up like a last meal today.”

  “He doesn’t do repeats?”

  “He doesn’t fuck whores,” she corrects just before disappearing into the bathroom. Her words still sting, even though she just explained the difference in points of views to me.

  If I’m understanding, by Lynch’s own reasoning, if he gets a girl before anyone else touches her, she’s fair game, and only a whore after messing around with someone else from the club.

  I’m still trying to figure out how to stay away from all of the handsome men that Molly assures me will be vying for my body when she walks back out of the bathroom fully clothed.

  “I didn’t fuck your brother,” I spit when she bends over to put her shoes on.

  “Okay.” She shrugs like it’s no big deal.

  “I mean, we did mess around some, but—”

  “I think I got a pretty clear picture of what happened between the two of you when I walked into that room last night and found you sitting naked on his chest,” she interrupts. “Can we not go into the micro details about you messing around with my brother?”

  “Are you mad at me for it?” She frowns, and I instantly wonder if I asked her the same thing last night. I know I questioned it a million times in my head, but I don’t know if the words actually left my lips.

  “I’m not… You shouldn’t have…” she pauses, killing me with her silence. “I didn’t think this all the way through. I never should’ve brought you here.”

  “I’m not judging you or any of the people here for choosing this lifestyle,” I assure her.

  “I’m not worried about judgment,” she says as she reaches up to grip my forearms. “I’m fine here. There isn’t one person here who will lay a finger on me or say one bad word in my direction. I’m the Princess. They wouldn’t dare, but I honestly can’t say the same thing about you.”

  “Lynch told me I’m safe here.” My heart is pounding in my chest by the time she replies because the assurance he gave me last night isn’t found anywhere in her eyes.

  “And that’s exactly what the Big Bad Wolf told Little Red to get her to lean in closer.”

  I step back out of her grip, holding my arms up when she reaches out again. Scrambling into my clothes from last night, I nod with more assurance than I feel in my gut.

  “Take me home,” I insist. “I want to leave.”

  “I can’t do that. Lynch won’t allow it.”

  “I’m not going to be a prisoner at some motorcycle clubhouse.”

  “Beats the alternative,” she mumbles. Surely, she didn’t just say—

  “What did you just say?” My hands are trembling, and I feel like I’m in the damn Twilight Zone.

  “Nothing. Listen, let’s finish getting ready, and we can go hang out with the girls. You’ll see that it’s not so bad here.”

  I know I need to bolt at the very first opportunity, but my brain won’t stop picturing Lynch’s mouth on me last night. Now I know what tempting the devil means.

  Chapter 9

  Lynch

  “I’m late,” I tell my men as I walk into the chapel. Acknowledging my tardiness is the closest thing they’ll ever get to an apology. “We have a ton of shit to deal with today. I hope everyone is awake.”

  My eyes circle the table to verify that everyone is here. The only time my guys aren’t at this table during church is when they’re dealing with business on the road.

  “Boston, how do the books look?”

  He looks up at me, formerly bright eyes hazed and exhausted.

  “From what I can tell, we still have money.” He gives me a quick smirk as he tilts his head.

  “From what you can tell?” Suddenly, I’m questioning whether or not I’ve made a mistake in appointing him.

  “Prez, the whole system is a fucking mess, which is expected considering Banshee snorted more coke than your old man.” My facial expression doesn’t change because it’s been almost two weeks and this shit should be done already. “I’m working backward from now. How far back do you want me to go?”

  “Until the very beginning,” I growl. I’m being a dick, but like I said earlier, I’m having a shit day and having others a
round me in shitty moods is only fair.

  “I’ll keep you updated, Prez.”

  “Talk to me about Detroit.” I look over at Hornet.

  “The transport is leaving this afternoon. We’ll make a quick drop in Syracuse and be in Detroit by late evening tomorrow,” Hornet says.

  “Take the sedan,” I order.

  “Prez?” Hornet complains.

  “Makes sense,” Briar adds.

  “We’re bikers,” Hornet argues. “We don’t take sedans. Next, you’re going to tell me to leave my cut behind.”

  I raise an eyebrow at him.

  “No way, Prez.” Hornet is shaking his head back and forth. “That takes all of our power away.”

  “The leather on your back doesn’t give you power,” I counter when several of the other men at the table grow anxious and begin grumbling. “Our name gives you power. You are still a Raven without our patch on your back. That is enough to bring fear to anyone around. My father ensured through decades of brutal force that we didn’t have to rely on clothes to instill fear.”

  TJ grunts in approval.

  “Being less conspicuous will only help keep the cops off our asses,” Briar says. “This is the start-up run for business in Detroit. Carry your cuts in the fucking trunk and pull them out when you meet the handlers if you must.”

  “But the sedan? Do you know how hard it is to fit four men into that fucking car?” Hornet just will not give up.

  “Take the fucking SUV then,” I concede. “Just don’t get arrested with my dope.”

  Hornet finally nods, capitulating to my instructions.

  “You good?” He nods again.

  Looking back down the table, TJ is glaring at me like I’ve grown three extra heads. I know what the look is for. The men who gave up their patches last week would’ve never argued with their president in fear of getting their heads blown off. What TJ doesn’t want to admit is that those very men would have given our dad the okay and would then turn around and do whatever the fuck they wanted to. They knew Dad would forget every damn thing he told them after a handful of lines and a bottle of whiskey. My father lost power over this club long ago.

  Agitation boils low in my gut. I need these men at my back, but I also can’t worry if one of them is going to slit my throat from behind. Give an inch, and some will take a mile.

  “Bitch about your job one more time,” I warn Hornet, “And you’ll end up downstairs.”

  A sly grin forms on Hornet’s face, as if he’s proud I passed some fucking test. Depending on how the rest of my fucking day goes, my Road Captain may not make the trip to Detroit after all.

  The morning drags on as we discuss and make plans for the next couple of weeks. Thankfully, not one other person at the table balks when I give an order that is the opposite of what my father would’ve done. They know the club was drowning and that we wouldn’t last another couple of years if things had stayed the way they were.

  “As many of you know, Molly showed up last night,” I begin, “She’s off-limits just like she’s always been.”

  I hold my hand up when Chains opens his mouth to fucking say something.

  “I don’t give a shit that she turned eighteen last month. I will kill any man at this table that lays a finger on her.” My eyes find Briar’s. “It’s your responsibility to make sure every fucking prospect and every goddamned hangaround that enters the front doors of my club knows it as well.”

  “I’ll kill ‘em myself if they even think about it, Prez,” Briar vows.

  I know he will. Briar’s been as protective as a blood sibling over Molly since he arrived at Ravens Ruin ten years ago.

  “So that doesn’t include the brunette bombshell Princess brought with her?” Leave it to Chains to immediately think about his dick.

  “Candi is off-limits as well,” I mutter.

  “Wait your turn,” Boston says. “You know Prez always gets the first piece.”

  “Prez got to taste the rainbow last night,” TJ adds.

  “Sweet.” Chains leans back in his chair, rubbing his hands together in excitement.

  “Candi is an extension of Molly. Therefore she’s not to be touched either,” I hiss without breaking eye contact with my Sergeant-At-Arms.

  His smile drops, and my day just suddenly got better.

  Church dismisses, and as always, the girls are waiting and chatting with each other in the main room. TJ, not one to dally, picks a smiling Legs up from the couch and positions her in his lap as he sits down.

  I’m not surprised to see both Molly and Candi in here. Nor am I shocked to see Candi’s laughing grin turn into a scowl when she notices me enter the room.

  Between me on one end of the room and TJ lapping at tits on the other, Candi can’t decide which direction she should look. I don’t know if the wiggling she’s doing beside my sister has more to do with her being turned on by watching a girl get played with out in the open, or if I’m making her nervous.

  “How do you plan to earn your keep?” Everyone in the room quiets and follows my eyes to Candi.

  “I’m sorry?”

  Oh, you’re gonna be, little girl.

  “No one lives here for free,” I grunt.

  “I know a way she can pay rent.” Candi’s throat swallows in fear at TJ’s words, but she doesn’t pull her eyes from mine.

  “She’s going to help me with the books,” Molly interjects. “She’s incredible with numbers.”

  “Fat fucking chance,” I spit. The last damn thing I need is this chick knowing any more about my club than her gorgeous dark eyes have already seen.

  “I could use the help, Brother,” Boston says from the bar behind me.

  “I’m not staying,” Candi says as if none of the previous conversation had even happened.

  Reluctantly, I turn my attention to my sister. “Chapel now.”

  Candi begins to rise form the couch when Molly stands.

  “Not you,” I hiss before walking out of the room.

  My sister seems just as pissed as she was last night as she follows me into the room.

  “Why did you bring her here?”

  Pretty blue eyes narrow at me, but I wait her out. I have the patience of a saint when it comes to Molly, and she damn well knows that we’ll be here all fucking day until she answers every question I have.

  “She doesn’t have anywhere to go,” she answers.

  “Bullshit. TJ told me last night that she’d mentioned her parents expecting her back.”

  “Her dad is a piece of shit and never around. Her mom is always traveling the world with her husband, and doesn’t even have a permanent home address.”

  “And you don’t find any of that odd?”

  She huffs as she crosses her arms over her chest. “Really? Our dad was a psychotic, coke-headed biker running drugs all over the Northwest and killing anyone who looked at him sideways. My mom was murdered before my eyes when I was fucking four, and I’m supposed to find it weird that her mom gets mail at a PO Box?”

  I tilt my head in understanding because when she puts it like that…

  “Can we trust her?”

  The question is hypothetical since I don’t trust fucking anyone, but I’m curious about her answer since she has great instincts. Her judgment of others has always been spot-on.

  “I trust her with my life,” she answers. “She’s the only person that’s not a part of this club that I would allow to help me.”

  “She’s good with numbers?” Why the fuck am I even considering this?

  “Like a damned savant.”

  “You know what to show her and what to keep from her?”

  “Maps, names, account numbers, and products are off-limits. Just the numbers,” she confirms.

  “Okay.” She stiffens when I pull out the chair beside her.

  “Please don’t ask me.” Her voice is filled with sadness, but she has to know I can’t let it go.

  “Why?”

  “Because I’ll tell you, and
I’ve been trying to put it behind me.”

  I grip the edge of the table. We’ve been through almost every pain imaginable growing up in this clubhouse, but something happened to my sister at school that’s bad enough to make her run. Molly Jenkins is the Ravens Ruin Princess. She has men more evil and more powerful than the damn Devil himself at her back. She doesn’t run from a fucking thing.

  Chapter 10

  Candi

  “Not a good idea,” TJ warns when I stand up from the couch and look toward the double doors Lynch and Molly disappeared through.

  I would turn and glare at him, but five minutes ago he pulled his dick out and Legs dropped to her knees like he was offering her the world. It was hard enough not looking when all of the fucking slurping started.

  “Don’t,” he cautions again when I take the first two steps.

  “Shouldn’t you be concentrating on your blow job?” I ask when I turn back to face him.

  With his hand on the back of Legs’s head guiding her movements, TJ examines me from head to toe. The tank top and shorts I wore last night made me feel sexy and daring. Today, in the cold light of the late morning, I don’t feel shielded enough from this place. I don’t imagine full bomb squad gear would make me feel comfortable at this point.

  “You’d be surprised at the number of things I can concentrate on at the same time.” He grunts, showing a hint of pleasure for the first time since Legs sank to the floor.

  Spinning back around, I stride to the double doors. I couldn’t see anything from my vantage point on the couch, but standing closer with the door cracked, Molly is visible. Sitting at the table with her head hung low, I only have an oblique view of her face. It’s clear by her puffy red eyes and tear-stained cheek that she’s upset. She swore to me that she was safe here, but the state she’s in right now betrays that lie.

  “I’ll take care of it.” Lynch’s voice is angry but calm. It’s as if he’s trying and barely managing to keep his hostility in check. “Back to Candi.”

  My ears perk at the sound of the stupidest name I could’ve ever picked before coming to this place.

  “She’ll be fine,” Molly assures him. “I’ll make sure of it.”

  “You can’t keep bringing strays to the clubhouse. She isn’t a part of our world.”