by K. D Clark
Cam walked around to the back of the bar and tapped Jen on the shoulder. “Are you okay out here?” she asked.
“Yeah, I’m good…you know, you’re supposed to drop off the drinks--not wear them.”
Cam fumed her eyebrows together. “I'm aware.”
“I think I have an extra shirt in my purse from when I went out the other night.”
“I’m not going to be able to fit into your shirt. I’m fine. It’ll dry soon.”
Jen moved her mouth to the side as if thinking about saying something. “Amire might need some help with the kitchen.”
Thank god. If Jen could hold down the bar, Cam was fine with hiding in the back until these assholes left.
“Alright, let me know if it gets crazy again,” she said before heading to the kitchen.
Amire lifted a fry basket out of the hot oil and dumped a container of mozzarella sticks inside.
Cam grabbed an apron that hung on the wall. “Heard you need help.”
Chapter Four
Kit
He sat up in bed. It took him a minute to realize what woke him. Bang, bang, bang. The wooden, bedroom door shook as someone on the other side banged on it.
“That redheaded bitch wants to know where her car is,” Jett yelled.
Kit ran a hand over his face. “Tell her it’ll be done by the end of the day!”
He listened to Jett’s retreating footsteps before resting back into the pile of pillows.
Blonde hair smacked him in the face as the girl beside him turned the other direction. He couldn’t remember her name. She was a new club groupie. The clubhouse always had its fair share of women hanging around. Too bad for them, he wasn’t looking to settle down with anyone…ever.
An image of the woman from the bar last night flashed in his mind. Green eyes, plump lips, and long, dark hair that he’d be more than happy to wrap his hand around while he fucked her from behind. His dick stirred at the thought.
“Time to go,” he told the blonde, untangling himself from her naked body. His dick was hard as a rock, but there wasn’t time to have another go around.
She groaned and opened one eye. “What time is it?”
He grabbed his phone that lay on the nightstand, sandwiched between empty beer bottles. “Past noon.”
The bed creaked as he moved to sit on the edge. Bending down, he grabbed his sweatpants off the floor and pulled them on. There were a good amount of cars at the shop today. If he had been thinking last night, he would’ve left that bar earlier and gone to bed so he could get up early to start working on them. But instead, he’d stayed there, drinking with his brothers until the place closed. He was hoping he’d get another look at the owner. Cam. That’s her name…at least he thinks that’s what he heard the bartender call her.
The bed shifted again as the blonde sat up. Kit turned his head as the comforter fell away from her body. Her tits were huge with nipples so hard they could cut glass. He wished he hadn’t been so drunk so he could remember what they’d felt like in his hands.
“Like what you see?” she asked.
If he jumped back into bed, she probably wouldn’t hesitate to climb on top and ride him. Like most women hanging around the club, she was desperate. That was fine with him.
“Stick around the clubhouse. I might need some company tonight,” he said, keeping it vague in case he changed his mind. He had a fight tonight, so depending on how it went, he might be too sore to fuck.
She stuck her lip out in a pout but got up from the bed before gathering her clothes off the floor. Instead of waiting for her to leave, he walked into the en suite bathroom and got in the shower.
The warm water washed away his morning grogginess. He should be hungover with how much he drank last night, but his tolerance was pretty high. He’d probably inherited his tolerance from his alcoholic father. He exited the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist before walking back into his bedroom.
The blonde was gone. In her place, in the center of the bed, was a piece of paper. Her phone number was scrawled on it in loopy handwriting. He shook his head and got dressed for the day.
The clubhouse was empty as he walked through it. His brothers were all probably at work. He squinted at the bright sun as he walked outside and made his way to the shop. Technically, Kit owned the shop, but everyone who knew anything about cars helped out. The shop wasn’t attached to the clubhouse, but it might as well be since it was so close.
“Finally, that crazy bitch called twice today already,” Jett said, his legs sticking out from under a Honda he was working on in the garage.
Kit sighed. “I’ll have it done soon. We should have gotten the new alternator in this morning. I can get it installed in a minute.” He stood next to the car as Jett rolled out from underneath it. Jett helped out at the shop the most, which Kit was grateful for. Unfortunately, for his customers, Kit didn’t work on anybody else’s time. He got his work done when he got it done. Sometimes, he’d be working on cars until two o’clock in the morning and sometimes he didn’t open until the afternoon. He had decided if he was going to own his own business, he was going to do it his way. Especially considering how many times he’d gotten his ass beat in order to raise the money to open the place.
“How was Jessica last night?” Jett asked as he stood up and dusted off his pants.
“Who?”
Jett chuckled. “Jessica. The one you took back to your room last night. Fuck, you didn’t even know her name did you?”
Kit ignored him and walked into the lobby. Jett followed behind him.
“She’s hot and isn’t trashy like those other club sluts,” Jett said.
Brown packages were stacked on the receptionist’s desk. Kit pulled out his pocket knife and started to open them up, hoping to find the alternator he needed.
“Seemed just as desperate to me,” Kit said to Jett.
“Nah, I think she’s different.”
“Then give it a go.”
Jett leaned against the desk. “Are you going to the bar tonight?”
“Nah, I got a fight,” he said. He found the box with the alternator and pulled it out.
“Oh shit, I forgot about that. I was going to put some money down.”
“You still got time. Tony is usually taking bets until right before the fight.”
The desk phone rang, and Jett walked off. “I’m not dealing with that redheaded bitch again.”
Kit flipped him the bird before sitting down in the office chair and picked up the phone. “Ms. Granger, we have your ca…”
“Kit?”
It took him a moment to recognize his sister’s voice because he hadn’t heard it in so long.
“Megan?” he asked. His heart beat faster. It had been so long since he’d seen her last. She was always in the back of his mind. He never knew if she was even alive or dead.
“Yeah… I’m…um...close to Goldbeach.”
“Where at?” he asked. If she were asking for a ride from a sketchy part of town, he’d hang up right now.
“At the airport… I was hoping you’d give your little sister a ride?”
“I’m on my way.” He hung up the phone and grabbed his truck keys that hung on the hook next to the desk. “I’ll be right back,” he hollered at Jett, not waiting for his reply before walking out the door and getting into his truck.
He always kept it parked next to the garage because he rarely used it, but he wasn’t sure what sort of state Megan was going to be in. He pulled out of the parking area of the clubhouse and onto the street. The airport was an hour drive from town, so he had plenty of time to calm his nerves.
Both he and Megan had grown up in Goldbeach but Megan took their upbringing much harder than he had. While he’d found the Savage Spades, Megan found drugs. It was an ongoing battle. Over the years, she’d stolen from him and taken advantage of every situation. She would say she was clean, but she never was. Four years ago, she moved out to California to be with whatever guy she was dating,
and all contact between them stopped. So why was she here now? After all this time? He gripped the wheel tighter as he approached the highway. He could have asked her over the phone, but it was better to save his questions until he saw her in person. He turned up the radio to drown out his thoughts and continued his drive.
*****“Are you clean?” he asked an hour later as she stood next to the passenger side of his truck and tried to open the locked door. Her once, full cheeks were now hollowed out, but at least she looked alert. Her hair was brushed back in a neat ponytail and not greasy and stringy like when she was on one of her benders.
“Yes, I’m clean. Open the damn door, Kit.” She pulled the handle again and let out a breath.
“How long?” he asked through the open window.
“One hundred and eighty-five days and counting.”
He pressed the unlock button, and she opened the door. She had a large bag over her shoulder that she threw inside before climbing into the truck. The minute she was inside, she pulled him in for a hug. He wanted to pull away from her and be stern, but he couldn’t. Not when it’d been so long. She smelled like fresh soap and not like a crack house. Her body felt thin and fragile in his arms, and he was scared if he hugged too tight, he might break her. They hugged until the car behind him honked. She pulled away first and wiped a tear from her eyes.
“I’ve missed you so much.”
“I’ve missed you too; let’s get some food.”
*****
They sat on a picnic table outside the BBQ joint. Megan wasn’t scarfing down her food like she would if she’d been on a bender. Wherever she’s been staying, they must be feeding her. Maybe she really was sober this time.
“What happened? Why are you back here?” he asked, finally cutting to the chase.
She set her pulled pork sandwich down and wiped her face.
“You can’t just be happy to see your little sis?” she joked.
He narrowed his eyes at her.
“Fine, but it’s a long story.”
“I have time.”
She let out a sigh and propped her elbows on the table. “When I left here, I moved in with Ricky--”
“That douchebag you were seeing?” he asked. He hadn’t bothered to remember the guy’s name at the time because it hadn’t mattered. Kit had been happy to get Megan out of his hair at that point.
“Yeah, we lived together in California…and did a lot of drugs. We had our problems. I got arrested a few times. Ricky was an asshole most of the time.”
“Did he put his hands on you?” Kit asked. His jaw clenched at just the thought. He hated to think his sister had put herself in that sort of situation.
“It’s over, Kit. There’s no reason to be mad now.”
He scoffed. He had plenty of reasons to be mad. Years of anger still coursed through his veins. He’d be more than happy to take that anger out on someone who hurt his sister.
“Anyways, one night, me and Ricky had some friends over to the apartment. We were having a good time but I guess I took too much. I don’t really remember anything after that besides waking up in a hospital bed. The nurses told me he’d dumped me right outside the doors. Fuck face didn’t even come inside to make sure I didn’t die.” She shook her head and took a drink of her lemonade before continuing. “I was alone in a hospital bed, and the man I’d spent the last four years with didn’t even care. No one was there. I was by myself. I knew once I was discharged, I couldn’t go back to the apartment. What was I supposed to say to him? Anyways, the nurses talked to me about a treatment center. Apparently, I qualified for federal assistance so I could go for free. The first month was the hardest but after that, I started to feel like myself again. I was at the treatment center for three months, then I went to a halfway house. Now, I’m here. I want to find a job. Get on my feet. But the treatment center told me I need a support system…you’re the only person I could think of.”
He didn’t say anything for a moment, letting it all sink in. He believed her. She finally hit rock bottom and had gotten help. Something he’d been trying to get her to do for years before she’d left.
“Whatever you need,” he told her. It was hard to give her another chance after she’d screwed him over so many times in the past, but this time was different. She’d never gone to treatment before, much less admit that she’d fucked up.
Megan wiped another tear away from her face. “I love you, Kit. I’m sorry I’ve been a shit sister all these years.”
He nodded. “I love you too.”
They were both quiet for a moment, both lost in thought.
She pulled her food back to her and took a bite. “So, tell me what’s been going on in your life all these years?”
“Nothing much. I opened a car shop by the clubhouse.”
“I guess all that fighting money paid off. You’re still a part of that club?” she asked, refusing to meet his eyes.
Megan always had an issue with the club, but he couldn’t figure out why.
“Any lucky lady?” she asked, changing the subject before he could answer.
He laughed. “Many.”
She scrunched up her face in disgust. “Too much information.” She finished her food and pushed the plate away. “So really, when am I going to have a sister-in-law?”
“Never.”
It was true. A woman wanted someone to take care of. Someone who could make their life better. He didn’t have anything to offer a woman that would enhance her life, so there was no point in looking for someone to settle down with. The club sluts were more than happy to satisfy his needs. He was never going to be one of those guys with a two-story house and 2.5 kids.
He stood up from the table. “I’ll get you settled at my apartment, and then I have to get back to work.”
“Am I going to have to hear all about your many women?”
He laughed. “Nah, I’ve been staying at the clubhouse most nights anyways.”
She nodded and got up from the table, and they walked to the truck.
Chapter Five
Cam
She opened the door and stepped inside the bar. The massive bookbag weighed down her shoulders with all the textbooks she’d need to start school. Early this morning was the only free time she had to buy the stuff needed to start classes.
Since Jen had the day off, Cam had to open the bar. As she took another step inside, something crunched under her boot. Her body instantly froze up like the icicles that stuck to the gutters in the winter months. She lifted her boot and looked at the bottom. A shiny piece of glass was wedged between the grooves. Fuck. She dropped her foot before flipping on the lights. When the lights flickered to life, her chest tightened. Shards of glass covered the entire floor. The jukebox was facedown on the hardwood.
The tables lay on their sides as if someone had pushed them over. When Cam finally looked up from the mess around the floor, she saw him leaning against the bar. Her body flinched against her best efforts to show no fear. Ice filled her veins. He wore dress pants and a matching jacket over a black t-shirt, as if he was on his way to an upscale casino. He was tall but on the skinner side. He had dark hair that was pushed back out of his face. The most noticeable feature was his nose. So crooked, it had to have been broken several times.
Venom.
She took a step back, her boot crunching on more glass.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he warned, his voice filled with a threat.
She froze, waiting to see what he would say next. She knew this day was coming, but she still wasn’t prepared for it. There wasn’t enough money in the safe to pay him. She didn’t have enough money if she sold everything she owned…except for the bar.
“It’s been a while, Princess,” he said. His voice sent a shiver down her spine like nails on a chalkboard.
“What do you want?”
“My money,” he spat, his hands gripping the edge of the bar so tight his knuckles started to turn white. The sound of her heartbeat filled her e
ars.
“I don’t have it right now,” she said.
Although the bar had been doing better the last couple nights with the motorcycle gang here, she was still short. He smiled and started to walk towards her. She backed up until she hit the wood-paneled wall. He stood so close to her, his chest was almost touching hers. He reached out to touch a strand of her hair.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” she growled at him. This was bad…really bad. He could do whatever he wanted to her, and no one would be around to help.
He dropped his hand and stared at her. His dark eyes were glazed over. Being this close to him made her skin crawl.
“Feisty, aren’t you?” he teased. His breath smelled like the inside of a trash can.
She breathed through her mouth.
“I’ll get you your money. I just need time.”
Time didn’t bring more money in when it came to her bar. If anything, more time meant more money was lost. But she’d say whatever she needed to get Venom out of her bar.
“Tsk, tsk. You said that last time, and I haven’t gotten paid. You see how that could be an issue? You could probably get some insurance money if this place burned to the ground.” He looked around the room as if building an estimate in his head.
She shook her head. She had to keep the bar open. The bar was all she had right now. The last memories of her father were in this building. When she didn’t say anything, Venom took a step away from her.
“My men will be by once a month to pick up my payment. Two thousand dollars a month, or I’ll burn this place to the ground. Maybe with you in it. That’s my last offer, Princess.”
Fuck, that was a lot of money.
“Or…you can always take the option I gave you last time,” he said, his eyes roaming over her body.
Her stomach turned, and she held down the urge to vomit all over the floor. The offer Venom gave her last time was to be his woman. He wanted her to live with him in his overpriced condo in Charlotte. She could still run her bar, and he'd pay for her to go to school, but he expected ‘complete submission’ from her. She didn’t have a submissive bone in her body. She’d rather have Venom kill her than to be a sex slave to this disgusting man.
