Grave (Royal Devils MC Chicago Book 1)

by Erin Trejo

  “Cash is bein’ pissy. Seems he wants his problems handled in a timely manner.” My jaw clenches as I pass Silla her coffee back.

  “Fuck him,” I growl as I spin and head for the living room. My mom stands there with a bag over her shoulder, a cigarette hanging between her lips.

  “No smokin’ in the house,” I tease her.

  “Yeah, well I figure if your dad is hell bent on killing me, I can smoke one,” she says with a small smile.

  “I won’t let him near you. You know that, right?”

  “I know that, Greyson, but he’s using me to get to you! Do you not see how fucked up that is?” Mom has always prided herself on keeping calm in all situations but this time she is letting her true self out. My mom was a badass back in the day. She lived the club life, but she grew tired of it and wanted more. I can’t say I blame her either.

  “I know, but I won’t let him touch you. I have a plan,” I tell her. She turns her head and looks up at me. She sees it. I can tell you the exact second she sees it too because her anger slowly fades, and worry takes over her face. She shakes her head, her eyes on mine.

  “Don’t you think of it!”

  “Too late.” I wink at her.

  “Greyson!”

  “Don’t, Mom. It’s happenin’ regardless. He fuckin’ shot me!”

  “Which is reason enough to stay the hell away from him isn’t it?” I force a laugh.

  “No, that’s the reason I’m goin’ back after him. He’s hated me since the day I was born. He’s tearin’ the club apart, brother by brother. I grew up with those guys! They are my family. I know you tried, Mom, fuck, you did but this is me. This is who I am, and I can’t change that. I’m takin’ that club,” I tell her. She watches me intently, her eyes never leaving mine. When she sees it, she nods her head.

  “You were always stronger than he gave you credit for. If anyone can take over that club, it’s you.” I lean down and pull her into a hug before Silla comes into the room.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t want to interrupt.”

  “You’re not. We’re done here,” Mom says, pulling away from me. She leaves the room probably finding Preacher waiting for her in the kitchen. Silla moves to stand in front of me, her arms coming to wrap around my waist.

  “She’s right you know?”

  “About what?”

  “You being stronger than they think.”

  “How would you know? You haven’t known me long,” I remind her. She smirks.

  “Doesn’t matter. I can see it. You have a plan or we just busting in there?”

  “I have a plan. You’re just along for the ride,” I say thrusting my hips into her. She laughs but shakes her head.

  “I’m not just here for the ride, Grave. I want in.”

  “Oh yeah? You know what that means, don’t you?” She nods her head as if she has a fucking clue. She doesn’t.

  “I know what I’m asking for.”

  “Do you? Because this is the same man who tried to kill his own son. You think if he even for a second thinks you’re twisted or on the wrong side that he would hesitate to shoot you between the eyes?” She watches me and the unsureness I see is there for a second before it vanishes. Doesn’t matter now, I saw it.

  “I want in and when you take your club back, I want help.”

  “You’re makin’ an awful lot of demands, aren’t you?” Tilting my head to the side, I study her for a second. She’s a killer. It’s what she does, so why wouldn’t I want her on my team? Why wouldn’t I take her up on what she has to offer?

  “They aren’t demands. I can handle myself, Grave. Your dad isn’t shit to me. One shot would be all it took to end his life and we both know it.”

  “See, there’s the problem. You talk a lot of shit, Silla. You say all these things, but I have yet to see you get your hands dirty.” I don’t know why I’m pushing her the way I am. Maybe I’m just trying to see how much she can take before she breaks.

  “You want to see me in action, Grave?” I nod my head. “Then take me in with you.”

  “Fine. You’re in but I gotta warn you, babe, if you ain’t goin’ in as my old lady, you may find yourself in a shitload of trouble.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, fresh meat is always fair game.” She smiles that dark smile, telling me all I need to know.

  “I think I like the sound of that.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Mom is set up at the safe house. Doesn’t ease the tension inside of me though. That bastard set out to have her killed. I can’t believe he would stoop that low but then again, this is the man who wanted me dead.

  “You ready for this?” Preacher asks, slapping a hand on my shoulder as we stand outside the clubhouse.

  “Goddamn right I am. Go in and act like you don’t know shit,” I tell him, nodding toward the clubhouse. Preacher flicks his cigarette through the air before walking off. Silla steps up next to me, her arms hanging at her sides.

  “What do you think he’s going to say?”

  “Fuck if I know. The bastard looked me in the goddamn eyes the last time he saw me and watched me die.”

  “I bet he will shit his pants seeing you come back in those doors.” She giggles. I just shrug.

  “He had to know I wasn’t dead. Why put the hit out on my mom if not to get me out of hidin’?”

  “Maybe he was just tying up loose ends.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Don’t overthink it, Grave. I’ve seen people kill for less,” she adds. It kind of makes sense.

  “You can back out,” I tell her once more but when she grabs my hand, I know she isn’t going anywhere. Taking a deep breath, I squeeze her hand and head for the door. I straighten my back as I walk, keeping my head held high. When we reach the door, I release her hand and pull it open. Stepping inside is like stepping into a time warp. It’s only been months since I was here, but it feels like forever. As soon as the door closes behind us, all eyes find me. Some gasp, others smile.

  “Grave? The fuck, brother?” Freak says when his eyes fall on mine. He strolls over, pulling me into a hug I didn’t realize I missed. “What the fuck’s goin’ on?” His voice is a mere whisper, but I heard it. He’s just as confused as the rest of us.

  “Not sure, brother.” He pulls back, nodding his head when I glance around the room. Most of the guys come say hi and give me a hug but there are a few keeping their distance. Psycho is in the corner slowly rocking himself back and forth. He looks up at me and my insides nearly shatter. I knew he was off his meds and it fucking shows. His eyes are vacant yet feral. He’s highly aggressive when he isn’t on his medicine. I slowly walk toward him, trying to gauge his reaction to me when he stands up.

  “You left me!” he roars. I can feel Silla right behind me and when I nod at Preacher, he knows to stop her. He walks past me as I keep walking toward my best friend.

  “I didn’t want to, brother. Wasn’t really my choice.” His eyes are wild as they bounce between mine. I hate seeing him like this—so unbalanced and out of control.

  “Fuck you, Grave! Fuck! Greyson.” He says my name a little softer than the other words and I know he’s trying to fight the bullshit going on in his head right now. I hate it. I wish I could take it all away from him, but I can’t. Instead, the closer I get to him, the more he seems to calm.

  “I’m sorry, Psycho. I didn’t wanna go, brother, but I’m here now. I’m back, yeah?” He looks at me, torn as to what to do or think. I feel like shit for not letting him know but I couldn’t have him acting any differently around my dad. He would have known something then.

  “You’re here?” he asks a little softer this time, some of the anger slowly falling from his gaze.

  “I’m here, man.” He comes closer and I pull him into a hug. I’ve known him my whole life. We grew up in this club together, but something was always different about him. He was always a little off. I didn’t care though because he was my best friend and whatever
was happening in his head was just a part of him.

  “You’re stayin’?” he asks as I hold him against me.

  “I ain’t goin’ anywhere, brother.”

  “And he arose from the grave to see another day.” Just as those words ring through the air, Psycho holds on tighter.

  “He’s fuckin’ my head up, Grave.”

  “I know, man. I know, but I’m gonna fix it, okay?” He nods and slowly pulls away from me as I turn to face him. The man who killed me. The man who gave me life, only to try and take it away.

  “And see another day I did. Who would have thought?” I ask, watching him for any kind of reaction I can get.

  “Where the fuck have you been? We all assumed you were dead,” he hisses. A few of the guys chime in and stand by his side but the majority don’t.

  “What’s wrong, Prez? Seein’ the dead make you nervous?” I ask, stepping toward him slowly. I know I need to remain calm and handle this the way I had planned, but at the same time, I can’t seem to keep my anger where it’s supposed to be.

  “Not nervous, just curious as to why you left your family, your brothers. Your club!” he roars as I pull my cut down my arms and hand it to Freak. I pull my shirt over my head next as I keep my eyes on him.

  “You see this? I wasn’t leavin’ my club. Unlike some, this club means everything to me. You think I wanted to go? Look at me!” I growl as I throw my hands out to the sides and spin so everyone can see the scars I now wear. The guys don’t get upset about seeing this type of thing, but they do get pissed. Eyes turn darker, hatred begins to boil inside of some.

  “We all get shot at some point, Grave. Come on.”

  “Really? Do we all get shot by our own father? Our own prez?” The roar is louder this time. Hushed whispers fall around the room as all eyes come to watch the showdown happening in front of them now.

  “Are you accusin’ me of somethin’?” Cash asks, tipping his head to the side like this is all fun and games to him. I suppose in a way it is.

  “Not at all. I know what I saw, and I know what happened.”

  “Do you?” he asks, narrowing his eyes. This son of a bitch is just trying to push my buttons. He’s trying to get me to snap and if I’m not careful, I just might. Taking a deep breath, I remember what it is I’m here for and calm myself slightly.

  “What’s wrong, Dad? Not happy to see your son?”

  “I for one am! Glad to have you back, brother,” Flick, one of the other guys, says before grabbing me and pulling me into a hug. It takes seconds before the rest join in, but my eyes never leave my dad’s. The cruel smirk crossing his face pisses me off more than he could ever know. I know he didn’t expect me back. I know he thought I was dead. He used my mom as a toy just to be sure. He must not have been one hundred percent sure which makes him look like a goddamn loser in my book.

  “Let’s celebrate! Our brother is back from the dead!” Hearing my dad say those words makes it all worth it. Everything I’m going to do to him, every play that I have put in place. All of it.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Well this wasn’t what I was expecting,” Silla says as she brings her beer to her lips. I chuckle under my breath but keep my arm around her.

  “What were you thinkin’?”

  “I don’t know. As tense as it was when we first walked in, I wasn’t sure how many people you had backing you,” she admits. That’s the other thing about her that I like. She’s always honest and says what she thinks.

  “Most of these guys I grew up with. We’ve been friends since we were kids. Patched in together for the most part. They know how shit is. They know what’s fucked up about this club but it’s the older guys still following Cash. They think he’s the fuckin’ god of this place.” Freak nods his head as we all sit around the small table in the back of the room. Cash made it a point to call in all the fucking girls he could find to throw me a welcome back party. Sick fucker.

  “This is true. The older guys are slackers. They want it all handed to them like it was back in the day. They don’t want to work for anything. Us younger guys? We want it all. We want to earn it,” Freak adds as I nod my head and bring my own beer to my lips. I take a long pull as I watch the guys in the room. Mainly Psycho.

  “How long has he been off his meds?” I ask, nodding toward him. Freak blows out a breath and shakes his head.

  “As soon as Cash said you were dead. He did good for a few days, keepin’ up with them but Cash got him alone one night. Fuck, Grave. Preacher and I tried to get him back on them but couldn’t. He just kept sayin’ that Cash fucked him up,” he says, looking sorrowful at our friend.

  “I’m gettin’ him back on them. Need to let Doc know.”

  “Doc has no say in this,” Freak adds. I jerk my gaze to his and that’s when I see it. Something else is wrong.

  “What the fuck is it?” I ask, knowing that look all too well.

  “He ordered Doc not to prescribe him anything else unless he okays it.” Slamming my fists onto the table in front of me, the guys don’t move but Silla jolts. I don’t mean to scare her but fuck! He’s messing with him to get back at me. I know he is.

  “This is bullshit!”

  “Yeah it is. You know he can’t handle that shit. He needs those meds, but we’ve tried, brother. Nothin’ we say makes a difference to Cash. It’s almost like he wants him this way.”

  “What’s wrong with him?” We all turn to Silla when she asks.

  “Psycho was abused as a kid. Pretty fucked up just like the rest of us. He started hearin’ voices in his head when he was three. Everyone thought he just had an imaginary friend but the older he got, the more the voices took over. They told him to do things he didn’t really want to do but he couldn’t stop himself. The meds work when he takes them. He came off them a few times, and it was never good for anyone,” I tell her. Her hand comes across the table and grabs mine. I don’t shy away. I let her do it because honestly seeing my friend like this is ripping me apart.

  “That’s horrible,” she whispers.

  “It’s life,” Preacher adds, when he strolls over and drops into a chair. “When are we doin’ this?”

  “Anxious?”

  “I want him gone, Grave. He doesn’t deserve the fuckin’ air he breathes. You think this is all he’s done since you been gone? This is nothin’. He’s fuckin’ up our ties with Columbia. He’s got Irish thinkin’ they stand a goddamn chance at runnin’ guns through here. He’s startin’ a goddamn war we can’t fight.” I knew things were going south before I was shot, but this? This is far worse than I ever thought it was.

  “Fuck,” I grumble and run my free hand through my hair. “It can’t happen right away. I need to work on what he’s fuckin’ up, yeah? I need those alliances back in place before I can finish this,” I remind them as I look around the table.

  “Heard that.”

  “First things first. We get a new doc on Psycho. I don’t give two shits if we have to go out of state to get one.”

  “I can help with that,” Silla adds. We all turn to look at her when she keeps talking. “I have some pull with a few in Wisconsin. We may have to take him over there, but I know they’ll treat him.” I nod my head, but the guys don’t. They don’t know her and they sure as hell don’t trust her.

  “And who the fuck do you think you are?” Freak asks, his heavily tattooed face looking menacing.

  “I’m your new best friend, pretty boy.”

  “Like fuck you are!” he roars a little louder, and I cut my eyes to him.

  “You can trust her,” I tell him. He drags his eyes back to meet mine.

  “That on your word or the pussy between her legs?” Silla is about to stand from her seat and lose her shit when I speak first.

  “That’s on my goddamn word, Freak. When have I ever gone back on my word?” The growl sits low in my throat vibrating my entire being as I look at one of my best friends. Slowly, his anger seems to fade as he nods his head.

  “
You fuck our boy over, and I’ll make sure every club in this state has a run between your thighs before I slit your pretty little throat.” The way he says it should scare someone, but Freak doesn’t know who Silla is which makes it funnier when she laughs.

  “Noted. Now, who runs your ink? I have a few things I need covered.”

  “You aren’t healed enough for that,” I remind her.

  “So? I can get ideas, can’t I?”

  “How about I ink my goddamn name all over your body?” I ask as I lick my lips.

  “Is that a threat or a promise?” she asks seductively.

  “Jesus,” Preacher hisses.

  “Depends. You want me to let the rest of these guys run a train on you or you want only me?” Her eyes flair and I know what she’s thinking, or at least I thought I did. But when I see the tears form in her eyes and she quickly blinks them away, I know I’ve stepped someplace I shouldn’t have.

  “I’m going to bed. I need to take my meds too,” she says quickly before climbing out of her chair and heading down the hall.

  “What the fuck was that?” Freak asks.

  “Don’t know, brother.”

  “Where’d you pick that up?”

  “Long fuckin’ story. She’s an asset, that’s for sure.”

  “That all she is?” Preacher asks, watching me.

  “No.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  I drank most of the night with the guys until I was tired enough to sleep. Shrugging my cut off, I lay it over the chair and pull my shirt over my head when I notice Psycho in the corner. His knees are pulled to his chest, his eyes locked on Silla’s sleeping form in my bed.

  “I’m gonna get you help,” I tell him. He doesn’t look up or away from her.

  “You were dead, Grave. Dead… Just dead.”

  “I know. I didn’t plan on bein’ gone so long either, but I needed to get my head straight before I came back.”

  “They said you were never comin’ back. That I should kill them all. I tried, Grave. I tried to make them stop but fuck! They just kept comin’ back and they just wouldn’t stop,” he says nearly in tears. This isn’t him. This isn’t the Psycho I know. He’s controlled, even in his kills. When he’s like this, he’s uncontrollable and does things without thinking.