by Sam Crescent
He pulled away from her, and she watched him as he grabbed his phone, accepting the call.
“What?”
Silence but she heard some mumbling across the line. She sat up as Preacher got up.
“When? … Shit. Okay. I’ll be right there. Don’t do anything.” Preacher hung up. “I’ve got to head out. I’ve got shit I need to do.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
“Yeah, stay here. If Bishop comes just hang out with him.” He already had on a pair of jeans, a shirt, and his boots, which were still open. “Don’t talk to him without me.”
She wasn’t inclined to know what club business was.
He pressed a kiss to her lips. “I’m sorry I’ve got to leave.”
“Club business. I recall my parents screaming a lot of the time about him always leaving and putting the club first. It’s fine.”
“You have no idea what is first to me.” He cupped her face, kissing her hard. “Don’t overwork yourself today.”
Within seconds he was gone, and she stared at the empty space where he’d been.
Pushing the blankets off her body, she padded across the bathroom and climbed into the shower. Her body still felt so alive from last night. She closed her eyes, and still felt the way his hands touched her body. Caressing over her breasts, down between her thighs, until she got to her pussy.
The memory was so clear, so vivid, it wiped away all trace of their very first time together. Not that there was a whole lot to remember from the first time. She’d been honest with Bishop that it was more a feeling the day after and a vague, blurry awareness of what happened. Nothing guaranteed.
Last night was the true night she had lost her virginity.
After finishing in the shower, she gathered her clothes, throwing them into the laundry bin before heading to her own room, to change.
As she was pulling up a pair of sweatpants, her stomach chose that moment to growl.
She went straight to the kitchen, putting a pot of coffee on, and then looking through the fridge for anything to eat. One of the few recipes she did know how to cook, and only because Preacher told her, was pancakes.
Bishop arrived as she was frying them up.
“Hey, beautiful,” he said.
“Hey.”
When he tried to kiss her, she quickly dodged his touch and started to serve up pancakes. “Are you hungry?”
“Yeah, sure. Starving.”
“Good. I’m glad you brought your appetite.”
“Where’s my dad?”
“Why would you ask me where he is?”
“Because you’re home and I’m not? Why are you acting weird?” Bishop asked, frowning. “Where did you go last night?”
She looked at him. “I got a headache, drove home. How did you get home?”
“I used my bike.”
“Your keys are in the dish beside one the cabinet by the door.” She poured some warm syrup over his pancakes before taking a seat herself.
She didn’t want to look weird, but already she’d snapped at him.
Great, Robin, just great.
“What happened to you last night?” she asked. “I came back from the bathroom to see you’d gone.”
Bishop paused and took his time to chew his pancake. She wondered if he’d lie to her.
He kept on chewing, and she was almost anticipating the lie that would fall from his lips.
“I headed outside, you know, had a couple of smokes with the guys, that kind of thing.”
“Okay.” She wouldn’t ask him about what she saw and what she knew; there was really no point in asking him.
He’d either lie about it, or not say anything, or blame her in some way.
“What are you doing today?”
“I’m going to relax. Watch a couple of movies. I’m beat. You?”
“I’m going to work on my bike, unless you want to fool around? I’m up for that.”
She forced a smile to her lips. “I’m sure you are. Not today. I’ve got homework as well.”
“You’re always doing freaking homework.”
She let him have his mood.
That’s the guilt. When are you going to let him realize he’s the one that fucked up many times? He couldn’t keep it in his pants.
There’s no point, I don’t want him. I’ve never wanted him.
Even the first time she realized he was sleeping with other women, it hadn’t bothered her. She’d wondered many times over the years why she didn’t care until she realized the truth: the only reason she didn’t care was because she loved him but wasn’t in love with him.
“You want to join me in my homework?”
“Nah, I’ve got more important things to do.”
“You do realize it’s more important to graduate than fix your bike?”
“I’m not going to need to graduate. Not with me joining the club, remember? I’m eighteen now. I’ve a right to sign on as prospect and earn my patch.”
“Is that what you want?
“Yeah, it is.” Bishop pushed his chair back and left the room.
She stared at his empty plate. He wouldn’t even take his dish into the kitchen.
Chapter Nineteen
“This is his handiwork?” Preacher asked, staring at the body of one of the women who worked for him. She’d been reporting to the club from the moment he put the word out he was hoping to find any dirt on O’Klaren, and right now, he stared at the bastard’s evidence. He had a couple of eyewitnesses who had given O’Klaren’s description. The only problem, the witnesses were addicts, and none of them would be taken seriously.
The victim’s neck was covered in bruises. Her body had been slashed, and he’d also left a fake dildo inside her. She was spread on the bed, her body covered in past bruises, which was one of the reasons why he knew he liked it rough. Preacher took the necessary photographs, filling up the phone he’d need, which also contained the witness statements from the women. His men had already taken them.
“Got the call this morning. She gave a notice last night she had him in the hotel room. We’ve got the son of a bitch, Preach,” Bear said. “Poor Janet. She only wanted to help. After losing a baby herself to a violent asshole, she’d been more than happy to help take him out.”
“What’s her home situation?” Preacher asked.
“Two kids. Fathers unknown. She’s been working for us for three years. Needed the extra money when she was fired for not putting out, remember?”
He had a vague memory of Janet begging him for the extra work.
“Make sure the kids are taken care of. Call our contact in the system. They’re to be homed together with a good family and let her know we’ll be taking a personal interest in this one.”
“Got it,” Bear said.
Leaving the hotel room, Preacher allowed his men to clear up the mess. He had a system and the right people in place.
Climbing onto his bike, he put the cell phone into his pocket, heading toward Dog’s territory. The fights would be back on the moment he took care of this little piece of business. He had no doubt there’d be another cop just as big of an asshole as O’Klaren, but he’d be more than ready. The only reason he’d had to hold off was because of the sudden shift.
The part of town where Dog liked to live was a piece of fucking shit. All of his intel on the leader of one of the scariest fucking crews wasn’t much. From what he knew, Dog didn’t have the nicest of upbringings. Not like many of them actually did, but Dog’s was extra brutal. His father had hated Dog, and rumor had it that most of his young life, up until about the age of fourteen, he’d spent a great deal of time chained out in the yard, like a dog. Rather than shake the name, Dog had embraced it, but he’d also taken on the violent streak of a rabid animal. On one of the days his father came to him, Dog had been ready, or so the gossip said. He’d attacked his father, biting his face off, tearing him to shreds with just his teeth. Preacher figured there was a whole lot more to it than that, but he never
asked.
They all had a past they never wanted to talk about.
Dog’s past stayed hidden. He didn’t know how the son of a bitch did it, but he did. There were no records of him as a boy, and Preacher had tried. It was like he didn’t exist.
Several of the crew came out of two houses, one on either side. This stretch of town was known to belong to Dog and his men. People entered at their own risk as Dog had a certain clientele he dealt with. Everyone else got torn to shreds.
“What is your business here?”
The yelled command came from his left, but Preacher smirked. “I don’t talk to anyone but the big man himself.”
“Dog doesn’t want visitors today.”
“Too bad, I’m practically family.”
The door three doors down opened, and out came Dog. He wore a pair of jeans, torn at the knees, boots, and nothing else.
The cold never seemed to get to him.
A feminine whimper followed him, and Preacher watched as Dog came down the steps, holding the hair of a woman who trailed behind him, crying out, clearly in pain.
“What do you want?” Dog asked. “You never come to my territory, not without a phone call. Those are the rules.”
“I’ve got business to handle with you, and you told me I get it sorted, I come to you. I’ve got the means of taking the heat away.”
Dog had been affected by O’Klaren’s interference. It was only fair they conducted business together. Preacher could take of it all himself, but he knew it would be worth the alliance to reach out to Dog. The man didn’t scare easily, and business between them always boomed.
“You see this woman, Preach?” Dog asked.
“Yeah.”
“You shouldn’t look at her. She’s rotten from the inside out. She promised to be faithful to the crew, and do you know what she did?”
“She wasn’t faithful.”
“No. She wanted something from me and told me she’d pay me back. I wanted her pussy for my crew whenever I asked for it, but she lied. I don’t like liars.”
“Neither do I.”
He watched as Dog put the gun he’d been holding to her head and fired.
Preacher really didn’t care about the brutal display. He’d known long ago Dog wasn’t a man to be reasoned with. It’s why he knew if he ever wanted to double cross him, he’d have to take the son of a bitch out first. Dog wouldn’t let shit go.
The woman lay in a pool of blood. Dog still held the gun as he walked toward him.
He waited.
His men still had their guns focused on him.
The moment he was close, Dog stopped, held out his hand, and in his own way, smiled. “You bring good news.”
“Is this how you deal with anyone who comes to your territory?”
“Only those that have no right to be here. Hate to say it, Preach, you’re not supposed to be here.”
“Well, I’m here.” They walked right past the woman and went straight to Dog’s house.
It was not the first time he’d been to the guy’s place, but this was more of a business call. He tried to avoid entering Dog’s territory as much as possible. He had way too much of his own shit to handle that, and dealing with Dog was a whole new kind of headache.
Handing over the phone, he declined the beer Dog offered him.
“Holy shit, this dude is a fucking coward.”
“Why’s he a coward to you?” Preacher asked.
“Dude beat down on a woman.”
“You’ve just killed one.”
“I killed a betraying slut. She’d hoped to use one of my boys to spill crew secrets, and that shit doesn’t amuse me. It didn’t happen as my boy came to me. She wanted something, offered a trade, and tried to take me down. Her death was necessary. I don’t beat down on women unless they come after me. I have some … morals.”
“You’re telling me you’d never beat the shit out of a woman?”
“Unless she threatened the safety of my club. What about you and your club? I know you took out that slut who hurt your girl.”
“Let’s say we’ve both done bad shit.”
“Yep, and this man, he’s a piece of work. He wears a badge he has no right to. I can deal with cops who uphold the law. I can even deal with cops who strike a deal, but those that come after us and are just as dirty or more so, I can’t deal with. What do you want me to do with this?”
“I’m going to make a copy. Meet me at our old place. I want the witnesses protected, but I also want them clean as well, just in case. This is a precaution in case I can’t deal with O’Klaren myself. I always want something to back me up. He took something special of mine, and well, that kind of shit, you don’t forget. It’s payback, and he’s got a whole lot coming. If anything comes back on me, I’m going to want you to deliver the witnesses to these men.” He pulled a card out of his jacket, handing it over to Dog. It had the details of the cops he knew he could trust.
“I’m impressed you even have these men on your payroll.”
“It’s not easy and they cost a fortune, but I’ve got to do what I’ve got to do.”
“What do I get out of it?”
“The pleasure of knowing you’re doing the right thing, and for your help with the witnesses, a new split, not fifty-fifty anymore. For the next year you can take seventy-thirty.”
“Wow, this asshole really did a number on you didn’t he? That’s a big old split right there for me to keep an eye on a couple of bitches.”
“What he did is not relevant. I want him to pay and suffer. I know he made your life … difficult, but he killed an innocent. I need you to make sure these women are cared for. It’s why I’m allowing the seventy-thirty.”
“I know what he did, Preacher. You can keep the cryptic shit for the tourists and Feds. He pushed your car off the road and in doing so, killed your unborn child. I know.”
Another time, another day, he’d try to figure out how Dog was able to know everything, but for now, he’d let it slide.
“I’ll take the seventy-thirty cut for one whole year. I want one of your whorehouses for the boys.”
“I don’t do that,” Preacher said. “Eighty-twenty, no whores, no other business. Just the shit we share.”
Dog sat back. “Fine. I’ll take the deal. Your bitches will be protected and clean, and this information will be handled properly.” Dog held out his hand. “Pleasure doing business with you.”
Preacher shook his hand before heading out.
Dog’s men were still waiting in exactly the same place, all of them acting like trained dogs.
The moment Preacher got on his bike and turned around, he looked in his mirror and saw Dog outside and the men dealing with the dead woman’s body.
He didn’t doubt for a second they could have all taken him out and hidden the body, but he’d taken the risk because his revenge was so close at hand.
All he needed was a bit of extra time, and he’d have O’Klaren right where he wanted him.
****
O’Klaren had made a lot of mistakes in his life. One of them was pacing the hotel room where she’d begged him to meet up with her. Fucking Rebecca, also known as Bear’s old lady, had been a thrill.
She was supposed to be loyal to the club, but all she’d turned into was a whore willing to do whatever he wanted for a price. He wanted to bring the club down. This woman had one mission in life, to make her daughter’s life a living hell.
Any other time, he might have felt sorry for the young woman, but clearly, she was in bed deep with the club, and he had no respect for that kind of behavior.
“You’ve got to act now.”
“Last time I checked, you don’t tell me what to do.”
“You’re making a big mistake. They’re going to know what you did. Don’t you see? Bear had to leave this morning. He got a call.”
“Your men don’t know the first thing that is happening. Why did you call me here if you’re not going to suck my dick?” He could have been
at home ordering his wife around, not listening to Rebecca babbling on about nothing.
He would take care of the club in his own good time. They didn’t have a brain cell between them, and this woman’s obsession with getting Robin, well, he’d already taken care of that.
It was just a case of waiting for the right time. The moment they all got what they wanted, it would be over. He never left anything to chance.
“Is that all you think about? I thought we were a team here. We’re working together.”
He got to his feet. Her pacing was really starting to grate on his last nerve. He wrapped his fingers around her throat and pressed her up against the wall. There had been many times over the years he’d wanted to do this to his wife, to drain her life force from her. There was nothing more powerful than to watch a woman fall, and he wanted to see it happen again.
Too risky.
Stop.
He didn’t want to stop.
Rebecca wasn’t worth screwing up his plans. Finally, when he saw no other choice, he let go of her neck, and she gasped, collapsing to the floor.
“These meetings are over. If you reach out, try to talk to me again, I will make sure Preacher knows what a double-crossing bitch you are, and I heard he likes to skin rats to his club.”
He left the hotel room, letting her pay the bill for a change.
****
Several days later, Robin missed Preacher. He hadn’t been by the house to hang out, and he’d only stopped by her bedroom to kiss her goodnight. With Bishop home, there hadn’t been a right time to talk, or even to tell him.
She knew he was dealing with club stuff, but she missed him.
Also, she’d had the time to do a great deal of thinking, and she was nervous about the club women.
Don’t become one of those women who complain.
Trust him.
Bishop used the women all the time, so she didn’t exactly have a good enough role model for men. Even her father was known for using them.
Knocking on Preacher’s office, she put her head around the corner and smiled at him. “Am I interrupting?”
Preacher looked up. “You’re not.”
She stepped into his office.
“Close the door,” he said.
