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Her Devils: Devil's Regents MC Books 1-3

Page 6

by Sarah Bale


  “Bash.”

  He sits up right away, blinking the sleep from his eyes. Bash doesn’t talk about his past much, but there’s something there that makes him alert, even when he’s sleeping.

  “What’s wrong?”

  He moves his head, and I can see there’s a bruise on his jaw from where I decked him.

  “Nothing’s wrong.” I pause. “I want you to stay with Olivia at all times. No one gets to her. You bring her here and take her home each night. Got it?”

  He looks pissed for a moment, but nods. “I’ll do it, Boss. But, I agree with King. If she means that much then you should make sure everyone knows.”

  “Just do as I’ve asked. And get up. I want to go over a few details with everyone.”

  Bash replies, “Will do. Just need ten minutes to get dressed.”

  I dip my head and go to the conference room. This is where my inner circle handles club business. And we’ve got a lot of shit to talk about. Like our shipment and how we’re going to make sure we won’t be taken down by the cops who are watching us.

  My officers are there five minutes later, none looking happy to be awake.

  Razor yawns. “Don’t suppose this could’ve waited until after noon?”

  “Nope.”

  “Didn’t think so.”

  He grabs a bottle of whiskey and sits in his spot, taking a long swig. He offers the bottle to me and I shake my head.

  “You sure, man?”

  “I’m sure.” I stand, facing everyone. “I’m not going to beat around the bush here. We’re going over our plans for the run next week and at the end of the month, and then we’re going to figure out how in the fuck to get out of this business.”

  Razor groans, but King and Bash nod.

  “I want to know who’s moving what in this area. Is there another club we can take down to be the only movers of weed in the area?”

  King says, “As I said before, weed is a dying market for us, unless we want to go legal with it.”

  “The boys in Oklahoma are doing pretty good moving the moonshine for the Webb family,” Bash replies. “We should look into that. Expanding their distribution.”

  I shake my head. “Word around the bush is old man Webb died. His daughter is taking their business legal. Not sure what our brothers are going to do once that happens.”

  Razor takes another drink. “Not sure why this is making you so uneasy.”

  “I’m getting old, boys. Got to start thinking about a life after all this.”

  King looks absolutely horrified. “Dude, are you dying?”

  “Not today.” I sigh. “We’re standing at a fork in the road. Weed’s always been our income. I don’t want to replace something that’s harmless with something that kills people.”

  Razor replies, “You do realize there are other drugs we can move, right? A buddy of mine told me about some shit he took. It’s new, but no one’s died from it. We can get a sample of it and see if it’s worth our time.”

  I nod. “Yeah. Get a sample. As long as it’s harmless, I’m good with trying something new.”

  King says, “I’ll get with my source about the warehouse, too. See if we can get that going.”

  Razor makes a face. “A lot of the guys aren’t going to stick around if that’s the direction the club heads in.”

  “Then they aren’t the type of men I want to have my back.” I sit, leaning back in my chair. “When I took over after my old man died, the club grew. Some would say we grew too fast. Might not be a bad thing to trim the fat.”

  “If that’s how you feel, then fine. But know that trimming the fat means some of the other clubs in the area get bigger. Like Psycho.” He holds up his hand. “I know he’s a dick, but are you sure you want to piss off his brother?”

  Psycho’s brother is the Vice President of a rival club that we’ve had run-ins with in the past.

  That makes me frown. “Put some feelers out to see if they have an open spot and if they’re willing to take him. If not, then I still want him as far away as possible.”

  Razor curses, but nods. “Fine. And the Mississippi club said they’ll take Psycho, if it comes down to that.”

  “Good.” I stand. “I’m going to bed. Don’t bother me unless it’s life or death. Bash, be at her place at ten.”

  Feeling lighter, I head to my room, where I strip down and crash, letting sleep take over.

  8

  Olivia

  There’s a tap on the door, so I go to answer it. Lucy has been in and out all day with her parents, moving her stuff out of the dorm. Maybe they’ve forgotten something, though it’s already eight. I can’t imagine why they’d still be hauling boxes from one place to another.

  Opening the door, I find Agent Hill looking down at me. He’s pissed, if the scowl on his face is any indication. For some reason it makes me mad that he’s mad.

  “Uh, hi.”

  He pushes past me, coming right in. I close the door and turn to face him. His arms are crossed as he stares at me.

  “Can I get you something to drink? We’re basically down to water.”

  “I’m not here for water, Olivia,” he snaps. “I’m here to find out why you’re trying to back out of our deal.”

  Calmly, I reply, “I’m not. I explained it all in the text.”

  And then I slept better than I have in years.

  “According to my sources, you’ve already cashed the check I gave you. Did you think about that?”

  “I can pay it all back.”

  I haven’t even spent very much of it.

  “You’re dealing with the Feds, Olivia. Anything that comes from us comes with interest.” He looks around. “And I highly doubt you can pay us back.”

  “Th-this is blackmail, Agent Hill. I told you why I can’t do this anymore.”

  My eyes well and I blink back unshed tears. It doesn’t seem to affect him, though.

  “Ms. Mayhem, it’s not blackmail. We had a deal. In fact, what you’re trying to do could be considered a federal crime. You made an agreement with us on your own free will. No one forced you.” He exhales loudly. “Now, are you going to go back to the club tonight? Or, do we have a problem here?”

  He moves the gun at his hip, and it catches the light. I know better than anyone that people will believe whatever he says and say I’m the one in the wrong. And he’s right – I did agree to help him without asking what I was getting into. Once again, I’m the fool.

  “Olivia?”

  I nod once.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you.”

  “There’s no problem, Agent Hill. I’ll go to the club tonight.”

  “And be sure to keep your ear to the floor.”

  I nod again.

  “Speaking of, did you hear anything last night that’s worth mentioning?”

  I shake my head. “No. I left early.”

  “Why?”

  “Saint told me to.”

  “Any reason why?”

  “One of the guys there got in my face. Said some things and Saint punched him.”

  Why do I feel like I’m tattling on Saint? Oh. Because I am. And, Agent Hill should know most of this, since I included it in my text.

  Agent Hill nods. “Very good.”

  “You think it’s very good that someone was so rude to me that someone else deemed it worthy to punch him?” I let out a little huff. “That’s messed up.”

  “That’s how those men live, Olivia. Fighting is second nature to them.”

  “And you didn’t think to mention that to me before asking me to go undercover there?”

  This cuts deep. He knows my past and-

  “I didn’t think it was important.”

  I cross my arms. “Okay. So tell me this. Why am I undercover at a gay bar?”

  “Gay bar?” His voice rises with each word. “Who said it was a gay bar?”

  When I don’t answer, he says, “I can assure you, it’s not a gay bar. Not even close.”

  “T
hen what is it? And why am I there? And don’t say just to listen.”

  He glances at his watch, as if I’m boring him.

  Feeling brave, I say, “Agent Hill, I’m not going in until you answer me.”

  “Such courage from a scared little girl.” He snorts. “You want answers? Fine. The club you’re bartending at is the clubhouse and home base of the Devil’s Regents, one of the biggest motorcycle clubs in the great state of Georgia. Hell, maybe in the country.”

  He goes on, “As I’ve said, you’re there to listen, but you aren’t the only eyes we have on the club. We’ve been trying to take them down for years. It’s only a matter of time before they slip up.”

  “But why?”

  “Why? Because these are very bad men, Olivia. And they won’t be happy if they find out that you’re there, spying on them.” He looks me over. “Of course, if they were to find out about your past, they might employ you in another… manner.”

  Another threat.

  “So I suggest you do as I say and go to work tonight. I’ll be in touch soon.” He goes to the door and pauses. “And Olivia, this better be the last dramatics I see out of you.”

  I try to process everything once he’s gone. I know one thing – I’m fucked.

  I sit on my bed, in my nearly empty room, scrolling my phone. Maybe, a number will pop up and that person can magically save me? Or, at least get me out of the mess I’m in. But, there’s no one like that around. Because, when it comes down to it, people only look out for themselves. The little clock next to my bed beeps, and I realize I haven’t dressed yet.

  I’m about to look in my dresser for something to wear when there’s another knock on my door. My stomach churns as I cross the room.

  I call out, “Who is it?”

  I’ve already made the mistake once today, assuming.

  “It’s Michelle, from down the hall. Hey, there’s a hot guy at front door, asking for you. Wasn’t sure if I should let him in.”

  “A hot guy?”

  “Yeah. He rode up on a badass motorcycle.”

  “Okay. Thanks for letting me know.”

  I grab my keys and phone, heading downstairs. Sure enough, when I step outside, I see Bash leaning against the entryway. He straightens when he sees me.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey there. Is something wrong?”

  “Saint asked me to give you a lift, since I was on this side of town.”

  “Oh. That’s very kind.” I look down at my jeans a t-shirt. “I think this might be too casual to wear to work.”

  He looks me over until I feel warm.

  “You look hot. You could wear a potato sack and still make it work.”

  That makes me laugh. “Thanks, Bash.”

  “I mean it.” He gives me another look over. “Total babe.”

  Not knowing what to do, I say, “We’ll, let’s go. I don’t want to be late.”

  He surprises me by taking me by the hand. It feels normal as we walk toward the parking lot. I’m a little sad he doesn’t have his car, but the bike he has is impressive. He hands me a helmet and puts his own on, before climbing onto the bike. I climb on behind him, wrapping my arms around his chest. I think I’m starting to get the hang of this.

  He takes off, going slower than Saint and Razor did, but I like it. The wind blows in my face and I tilt my head up, looking at the night sky. That’s one thing about Savannah that I’ll miss when I finally leave. Oh, there’s nothing set in stone, but one of these days I’m finally going to get the fuck out of here and set out on my own.

  Bash turns his head and calls out, “You good?”

  “Yeah.”

  He takes the road that leads to the clubhouse. As we pull up, I wonder how I didn’t see it before? This is clearly not a bar or regular dance club. Motorcycles and badass cars are everywhere, along with the men who own them. The few women that I see aren’t dressed like the women at the clubs I’ve been to, either. It makes me wonder what else I’m wrong about.

  Bash pulls his bike into the shop, parking it next to his car. I climb off, handing him the helmet after he stands.

  “I don’t usually park in here, but there’s a chance of rain tonight.”

  “Afraid your bike will melt?”

  He lets out a loud laugh. “Yeah.”

  He’s gorgeous when he laughs, and I find myself smiling up at him.

  “Come on. Let’s go before Saint sends out a search party.”

  He throws his arm around my shoulder as we go toward the clubhouse. In the distance, lightning flickers in the dark clouds. Guess he wasn’t wrong about a chance of rain.

  We enter through the side door and Bash walks me to the bar. Jas is leaning against it, texting. When she sees us, she stands.

  “Hey you two.” Her eyes dance with merriment as she looks at his arm still around my shoulder. “I didn’t realize you two were a thing.”

  “Oh, we’re-”

  Bash cuts me off and says, “Just enjoying the newness of it, Jas. Didn’t think it’d matter to anyone.”

  She replies, “There’s a few women around here who might care, Bash, but good for you. You two suit each other.”

  Someone calls her name and she grabs a bottle of whiskey, heading to them. When she’s gone, Bash laughs, shaking his head.

  “What was that all about?”

  He replies, “Saint wants to make sure the other guys don’t bother you. I figure, if they think we’re together, then they’ll leave you alone. For a while, at least.”

  “Oh.” I think. “Why for just a while?”

  His smile falters a little. “Because sooner or later the guys will expect to see proof.”

  “As in?”

  “A patch or even a tattoo or brand.”

  “Oh.”

  He shrugs. “Like I said, it’ll buy you some time.”

  “Well, thanks.”

  “No problem.” He looks at his phone and says, “I have to take this, but I’ll be back. And don’t worry – Psycho isn’t here tonight.”

  I nod and watch him head out the doors, phone to his ear. Jas makes her way around the room and a few of the guy shoot glances my way, but no one comes over. It makes me wonder what she’s saying to them.

  Jas comes back with a tray full of empties and says, “I just knew there was a reason you wanted a job here. How long have you and Bash been banging?”

  Well, that answers that question.

  “Uh, not very long.”

  “Is he as amazing in bed as I think he’d be?”

  “Oh yeah. The best.”

  She grins. “I knew it. He doesn’t ever mess around with anyone here, so having you around is definitely a first.”

  I nod. “That’s cool.”

  “We’ll have to gossip more later. I’m sure Karma is going to be spitting nails when she finds out. She’s had her eyes on him for years.”

  “Karma?”

  “One of the club whores. Don’t worry. Bash won’t let her do anything to you.”

  I’m really starting to feel like I should google the dynamics of a motorcycle club. Maybe if I get a break…

  She goes on, “I better get back out there. Holler if you need to step away from the bar.”

  Even though it’s a Saturday night, the club isn’t as busy as it’s been the past few nights. I wipe down the bar top and make sure everything is restocked. Since no one’s coming up to me, I have a lot of time to people watch. Again, I’m not sure how I mistook this for a gay club. Well, other than the hairy men and all of the leather. That part could definitely go either way.

  Making sure no one is looking, I pull my phone from my pocket and google what a motorcycle club is. Holy cow, there are a ton of results. I skim through the first few, trying to put together bits and pieces. There’s an article about the vests, or cuts, that some of the guys are wearing. Each patch means something different, which I guess is what Bash meant when he said people would expect to see me wearing his patch sooner or later. It’s bas
ically claiming me as his, which doesn’t sound as bad as one would think.

  There are a few books that show up in the search bar and I download them right to my phone. Hey, they might be fiction, but maybe I’ll learn a thing or two. I then search what a club whore is. Okay, that one is more obvious. The club whores are women who hang around or live at the clubhouse. Their purpose – to service the men. Kudos to them, I guess, because I don’t think I could do something like that for free.

  As if my search summons them, a group of women enter the club, gaining catcalls from some of the guys. I wonder why they weren’t around the past few nights. They’re all dressed differently. I’m not sure what I expected. Matching uniforms? A blonde and a woman with bright blue hair make their way to the bar, eyes set on me. I stand a bit taller and smile.

  “Hi. What can I get you?”

  The blonde says, “I’ll take a shot of tequila.”

  “Straight or with a lime?”

  She smiles. “Straight.”

  I grab a shot glass and fill it before sliding it toward her. She downs it, leaving her red lipstick on the glass.

  “I’m Foxy, by the way. This is Claws.”

  Claws? Well, the blue headed woman is aptly named, and not just because of her long, blue, acrylic fingernails that match her blue hair.

  I smile back. “I’m Olivia. Nice to meet you.”

  Foxy lets out a cute little laugh. “You haven’t been named yet?”

  I shake my head. “No.”

  Claws turns to Foxy and says, “See? I told you it wasn’t serious.”

  Foxy replies, “Don’t be a bitch, Claws.” To me, she says, “I hope they pick a name that’s just as darling as you are.”

  “Uh, thanks?”

  She winks and then goes to a table where a man pulls her into his lap, kissing her. Claws stands there, staring at me.

  “Would you like something to drink?”

  She opens her mouth and then snaps it shut as Saint and King come up to the bar.

 

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