“Nothing.” Knucklehead whispered, his eyes dropped in what looked to be shame.
“What?” Axe cupped his ear with an exaggerated lean in toward the male. “I don’t think I heard you correctly.”
Knucklehead cleared his throat, and spoke louder. “Nothing.”
That was all it took. Axe pulled back and let his fist fly, dotting the prospects eye. The prospect spun around and staggered to the side, but righted himself and looked back at Axe, trying to straighten out his shoulders.
Axe nodded, his hand shook back and forth that he used to deck the prospect with. “Well now you do. Now fucking call the cops.”
* * * *
Thorne bit back a yelp as Axe almost knocked the poor prospect out. The poor kid didn’t deserve his wrath because he didn’t chase after the trucks like the other dumb ass did.
With a slight shake of her head, she moved to say something, and found a hand clamped over her mouth. Anger rushed to the surface at being silenced like a child, and she did exactly what a child would do in that situation.
She bit down.
Dalton let go of her real quick with a yell of shock. “What the fuck?”
“Cover my mouth again and see what happens.” Thorne turned her fury toward the other men who stood there in shock. “As for you, Axe—”
She was yanked away from the men like a rag doll. “Let me go!”
“Not fucking likely. Get your ass in the truck.”
She stared at Dalton like he had grown two heads. How fucking dare he treat her like he owned her! She wasn’t a piece of meat. “Let me go!”
That didn’t go as planned. She screamed in surprise as Dalton swung her up like a rag doll and threw her over his shoulder. “I fucking said to get in the truck and I meant it. You do not want to step in that, Thorne.”
“Put me the fuck down! Now!” Thorne yelled at him, trying to wiggle her way free, even landing a few good kidney punches along the way.
“I do not want my fucking eye dotted because the girl I brought to family dinner didn’t know when to keep her damn trap shut. Now quit fucking trying to get free.”
Eye dotted? What the hell was he talking about? She was about to ask when she was flipped over and tossed into the passenger seat of the Blazer and buckled in. She could feel her blood pressure going through the roof as Dalton jumped into the SUV and got it in motion, rolling out of the parking lot as quickly as he could, without hitting any stray motorcycle parts in the process.
“How could you just stand there and let Axe hit that poor kid?”
“You’re fucking kidding me, right?” He glanced at her then back to the road. “That so called poor kid was supposed to be watching the bikes. He failed at it. He was punished for it.”
“How do you figure? He’s not some super hero, Dalton. He can’t jump building in a single bound or stop a speeding bullet. What the hell do you expect him to do?” Were these men that caveman that they beat each other up over stupid shit?
“You saw what Zack did. He ran after the truck and tried to stop them. Knucklehead stood there and let a fellow brother get a beat down. You have a lot to learn about this life, Thorne. But for God’s sake, do not open your mouth in those types of situations. You will get my ass in trouble.”
Thorne shook her head, not able to understand why it was so important that the prospect put his life in danger over materialistic things. “That is so stupid.”
“What is stupid?” He pulled into the driveway and turned off the ignition, then turned toward her.
Thorne ignored Dalton turning toward her, unbuckled herself, then opened up the door and slid out of the truck. “He could have been killed by some thugs over a bike that can be replaced with insurance claims.”
The door slammed behind her and she stomped toward the front door, not caring if he was following her or not. His actions tonight had her on edge and she wasn’t so sure she liked this side of Dalton, or wanted to be around it.
“Thorne, would you please just stop with your high society ideas and bring yourself down to my dirty biker level and fucking clean your ears out and listen?”
It was instinct; no thought went through her mind when she did it, pure reflex. She spun around, open palmed and swung to smack Dalton across the face. She never made it. He caught her wrist before it made contact, his eyes narrowed dangerously as he snarled at her.
“Truth fucking hurts, don’t it? Get inside and let me explain some things to you before you pass judgement on shit you know nothing about.”
All she could do was nod and swallow hard. She half expected to get hit in return, though she wasn’t sure why she thought that. He was always gentle with her and had very good reasons for doing what he did, but seeing how the prospect was treated had pushed her over the edge.
“Thank you.” He pushed open the front door and his hand nudged her to get inside.
Going right for the living room, she flopped down on the couch and stared up at him expectantly. “Get to explaining. I want to know why Prospect…” she couldn’t remember his name for the life of her. Oh yeah. “Why Prospect Knucklehead got hit.”
“First off, he is not a prospect to you. He is simply Knucklehead. The club is a man’s world. The woman has no part in it, other than to support her man and look good sitting bitch.”
Thorne balked at the way he was explaining the lifestyle he proudly lived, unable to comprehend how in God’s name her sister let these men walk all over her.
“Nuhuh, don’t say a word until I’m through. I’m going to explain this shit to you, but in a way that is dumbed down and raw. That is the only way I know how to get through to you right now. Prospects are low man on the totem pole. They show their worth and loyalty by helping out with things they do for the club on a daily basis, and they also learn situational awareness about things that normal civilians would never think of. If shit goes down and your brother isn’t there to back you up? Why be in the club? It’s a test to see how loyal they are and to what extreme’s they will go to make sure their family is kept safe. I break down on the side of the road and pick up my cell phone? Every one of those men will be there for me, and if they can’t? They will call someone who will be.
“The women are sacred to us men. They aren’t treated badly.” He held up his hand and shook his head. “I said no speaking until I’m done. Yes, there are a few bad seeds. There always are, in anything you go into. If the woman sticks her nose into club business, the man gets in trouble. Not the woman. If you would have said something wrong, I would have been held accountable and my eye would have been dotted and I wouldn’t fight back. If I did, it would earn a worse beat down, and I might lose my patches and be out bad.”
“Eye dotted, out bad? I’m not following any of this, Dalton.” She was trying, she really was, but this might be a little over her head. Thorne lifted her fingers to rub her temples and sighed. “I’m trying, I really am, but…” She shrugged and dropped her hands to her lap.
“I’ll get decked like Knucklehead did. It’s called eye dotting. If I am turned out bad, that means that this.” Dalton moved his arm to show her the brand that she noticed several other men sported. “This will be taken off my body in whatever way they deem fit. I will be cast out of a family that is loving and caring and would die to protect what belongs to them. I would lay my life down for any one of my brothers without hesitating. They would do the same for me. Knucklehead didn’t display that tonight. Zack did. He put himself in harm’s way to try and save a brother’s scooter. That says a lot.”
Well, if he was going to put it like that.
Thorne nodded, a leg tucked under her other one as she lay slightly back against the arm of the couch. “It’s a lot to swallow. A lot I don’t understand, Dalton.”
“You will over time, I promise. This club made a vow to take care of you because of what Diablo did and because they all loved Maggie. You’re family whether you like it or not, and well, you’re shit out of luck because your uncle is in it,
so you are family anyway.”
“I don’t need to be taken care of, Dalton. I am a big girl and can take care of myself. I’ve been doing it for a while now.” She pushed off the couch, ready to lie down and try to straighten out everything that happened tonight in her head. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
ROMEO HAD STOPPED BY to see Apollo and discuss what had happened the previous night. They talked quietly. Thorne had the late shift that night, so she was trying to sleep and neither male was brave enough to interrupt her beauty sleep.
Apollo explained in detail of the events that transpired with the TG and the prospects, right down to Axe decking the prospect for being a dumb ass and not doing his job.
Needless to say, Romeo was not Mister Sunshine and Butterflies when he got to the clubhouse for the impromptu church meeting. Every patch holder was present, except for Saber, due to his shift with Thorne on the meat wagon. The prospect in question, Knucklehead, was outside waiting for the verdict on just what was going to happen to him.
On top of worrying about how the fuck he was going to take care of a teenager, now Romeo had to protect her from the big bad world of outlaw bikers. Especially the likes of the bike thieving TGMC. He got maybe an hour’s worth of sleep the night before, thinking of the many ways he wanted to hurt Maggie if she was alive. What she did was unforgivable. He may have been young and dumb, but no one gave him the chance to see if he’d man up and grow a set, or tell her to fuck off and deal.
He was walking on eggshells in his own home now. He couldn’t even walk around naked if he wanted to, or piss off the front porch. And no more bringing the ladies home. That just went out the window, though he rarely, if ever, did anyway. This was his sanctuary, not a whore house. His mother had lived here and he respected her memory if nothing else. Romeo wasn’t even sure what to say to her. It was small talk right now, both trying to figure one another out.
Hell, he had walked by her room, which had been Amy’s, and thought he heard her crying. Talk about feeling completely helpless. Romeo had no clue how to approach her or help her, or if he should even interfere. He stood at her door for over twenty minutes debating the pros and cons of knocking on her door. Her snore solved that little issue real quick like.
Now, here he was sitting at the head of the table, feeling guilty because he had left Shiloh at the house alone. Was she alright? Did she know how to cook? Would she answer the door to a complete stranger? She did know how to dial 911, right? Fuck, he forgot to ask.
Time to focus.
“Alright, everyone is here but Saber, due to conflicting schedules with work. He has been excused by the council. And Apollo, but he’s already been talked to; I have his verdict. We have some serious shit to cover tonight, so no fucking around.” Romeo looked at all of the pissed off faces looking back at him. Yeah, he would hate to be that prospect right now. “First order of business. What happened last night. Zacky-boy is currently in a cast and is wearing some serious fucking bruises from trying to stop those fuckers from taking the bikes. Knucklehead? The only fucking bruise he has is the one Axe gave him.”
Wolf moved his head in agreement with Romeo as he sank back into his chair. “He didn’t show any gumption to help his future brother, or to protect the bikes as if they were his own. He could have helped out Zack and maybe caught the pussy who whipped Zack with the flashlight.”
Talon grunted; his hand cracked his knuckles as he spoke. “Personally, the prospect is fucking lucky Axe didn’t lose his shit and kept his cool and only hit his ass once. If it had been my bike, the fucker wouldn’t have left the parking lot alive.”
“The police are being cooperative right now and have statements from everyone, along with the VIN numbers and what not.” Romeo sighed, his hands folded over in front of him on the table. “It’s not like they won’t find the bikes soon. I am making a motion to have Prospect SixGuns Knucklehead turn in his vest and walk.”
Several brothers “here-here’d” and a few others angrily said to give a better punishment. Romeo shook his head and held up a hand to quiet everyone down.
“I wasn’t done. I am also making a motion that he also get his eye dotted. Twelve times. One for each bike he failed to protect, one for each truck, one for each Mexican he let hook up to the bike, one for the pussy who gave Zacky-boy his beat down, and one for Zacky-boy since he didn’t go and help his brother-in-arms when he needed it the most. Technically, it’ll be thirteen, since he already got one from Axe on scene.”
There were happy faces at the idea of watching someone take twelve hits, then having to leave and never look back.
“All in favor?”
That was a dumb question.
“Since our sergeant at arms is unable to perform his duty at this time, the council must elect someone to take his position. Wolf?”
Wolf quirked a brow at Romeo, the slightest of smirks appearing across his face.
“Nevermind. I want the fucker to live. He just needs to know how bad he fucked up.”
Wolf grinned, well, a wolfish grin and shrugged almost coyly. “My bad. I nominate Ghost do the dotting and Hawkeye to guard. They were their bikes, too, and Axe got his one lick in already.”
Ghost lifted his head up in surprise and nodded, the near-yellow eyes hidden by the flat brim cap he was wearing. “Thanks, man.”
“Talon?” Romeo looked over to the secretary.
“Agreed.”
“Colt?”
Once he agreed, he turned to the men and slammed the gavel down. “Motion passed. Now, before the games begin, we need to discuss retaliation. I was all about keeping the peace up to this point.”
“Burn their clubhouse down!”
“Just fucking kill Muerte and be done with it!”
“Go old school and have Saber and Trouble face off.”
Ideas were being thrown left and right on exactly what should be done to the rival club, all the way down to skinning them alive and letting the seagulls peck their eyes out.
Romeo lifted his hands, motioning up and down with them to get the riled up men calm once more. “I’m thinking we need to turn it around on them. They want to be childish, they’ll get spanked, but the SixGuns way. We’ll handle it like the old times. Maybe my idea will get the message across to them that we mean business. They want to be horse thieves? We’ll show them how we treat chicken shits like them.”
That got a round of applause. Romeo grinned and kicked his feet out in front of him. “Bring in the prospect.”
Colt was the closest to the door, so he got up and opened it. “Yo, prospect. Get your ass in here.”
Knucklehead stepped in, fear written clear as day all over his face, which is how it should be. He stepped to the side, allowing Colt to close the door once more.
“What have you got to say for yourself, prospect?” Romeo stared right into the frightened kid’s eyes, daring him to say the wrong thing.
“I, uhm…” He coughed into his hand, shifting his weight nervously. “I don’t have anything to say, sir.”
Romeo couldn’t believe this idiot. Why the fuck had he agreed to let him prospect? Oh yeah, cause the kid had been around since he was in his teens as a shop hand. “You have nothing to say at all?”
“What I did was wrong. There’s no excuse for it.”
Romeo scoffed with a slight grunt of laughter. “Ya think? You let four men, who were not SixGunss, take your brother’s bikes without so much as a yell. Or running inside to warn them that Zack, your prospect brother, was trying to take them all on, to protect what he was told to. You stood there and watched your prospect brother, your future club brother, get beaten and didn’t try to stop the fucker doing it. We have taken a vote and it was unanimous. You will take your punishment like a man. Ghost. Hawkeye.”
Both men stood up, Hawkeye moved around behind Knucklehead in case he decided to run. The kid had broken out into a full blown sweat, glancing erratically at both men then back to Romeo.
“You will stand there a
nd Ghost will dot you twelve times. Five for the bikes, three for the Mexicans who hooked up to the bikes, two for the trucks who took the bikes, one for the piece of shit who beat Zack, and last but not least, one for Zack.”
Knucklehead gulped, but nodded as he backed up slightly, away from the table as Ghost moved toward him.
“Put your hands behind your back.” Ghost growled out, his head tilted from one side to the other as if he was loosening up.
The kid did as he was told, the blood drained from his face as he saw the size of Ghost’s fist as he pulled back for the first hit.
Yeah, this was going to be bad.
The first hit nearly knocked the prospect, but Hawkeye caught him and stood him back up, then nodded to Ghost to keep going.
Romeo grimaced slightly. Ghost was enjoying this a bit too much as he swung like he was hitting a home run. Each time Ghost made contact, Romeo swore he saw the kid lift off his feet a few inches. By the sixth hit, the kid was laid out.
“Wake his ass up, he’s not done.” Romeo ordered.
Talon started to pass Hawkeye his beer then thought better of it. “That’d be alcohol abuse. Hold up.” He got up and ran out to the fridge behind the bar, then jogged back in handing off a bottle of water.
Hawkeye opened the bottle and poured it over Knucklehead’s swollen face. “Wake up.”
Knucklehead gasped, instinct overriding good sense, an arm swung out in defense.
“I don’t fucking think so.” Hawkeye grabbed him into a headlock, growling at him. “Calm the fuck down.”
He nodded, accepting the assistance to stand up and take the rest of his beating.
After the last strike was delivered, Knucklehead swayed on his feet, eyes nearly swollen shut, lips split open, with what looked like a broken nose. Romeo stretched and yawned.
“Well, now that that’s over, remove your cut.”
The prospect paused, looking between all of the members then back to Romeo as if he didn’t hear him right.
Fractured (Devil's SixGuns MC Book 2) Page 16
