by Jenika Snow
The club seemed to stand still when Zeke stared at them, as if their entire world stopped, waiting for the anvil to hit the ground, causing the fucking apocalypse.
He saw Demon inside the meeting room, on his cell, his face showing nothing. And there was Striker, a big motherfucker that was all tatted up, pierced, and looked ready to bulldoze right through Zeke.
“Move it, boy,” Zeke said in a low, deadly voice, not about to fuck around.
“You want to speak with Demon, you’ll wait until the Prez is done.”
Hell fucking no.
Zeke wasn’t about to play games. He tensed, and it was only when Demon got off the phone and hauled ass out of the meeting room that Zeke stopped going for his gun.
“No call before you show up at my place?” Demon asked, shoving his phone in his cut, and tipping his chin toward Striker.
“Go get drunk or fuck something. Zeke and I clearly need to talk.”
Striker stared at Zeke for a moment, and there was something in his eyes that had Zeke curious. It was a darkness, the same kind of darkness that Zeke himself had.
He followed Demon into the meeting room, slammed the door shut, and felt his anger rise. “That little fucker was seconds away from getting a bullet in his damn neck.”
“Calm down,” Demon said and gestured to a seat at the table. “You want a drink.”
“Make it a strong one,” Zeke said and sat down.
“What is it that you wanted to talk to me about?” Demon asked and set a square cut glass in front of Zeke. Demon took a seat in front of Zeke, drank his own whiskey, but didn’t say anything.
“It’s about Shakes.”
He saw Demon tense, but then the president of the club leaned back and finished off his drink. “What about him?”
“I know you still talk to him, even if you kicked his ass out.”
Demon didn’t say anything after that, but he could see from the man’s face that what Zeke said was the truth.
“He might not have a patch anymore, but is still considered family. We might have blacked out his ink, but we didn’t cut him off altogether. We had to draw the line somewhere, and him getting booted was enough, we thought.”
Zeke didn’t give two shits about what they did on their own time. He would have killed Shakes no matter what, but then his daughter said she loved him, and Zeke couldn’t bring that kind of hurt on her. So that’s why he was here now, wanting to make her happy, make things right with her. He wanted to make a step in the right direction.
“I want you to take Shakes back in the club. I want you to make him a member again.”
Striker took another shot, turned and stared at the bitches all around the club, and felt his cock harden. He was horny as shit, wanted some tight pussy, but he was still fuming about that motherfucker Zeke coming up all in their turf and acting like he had some kind of claim on shit. He might have power, might be able to level a city with just a phone call, but that didn’t mean he could come into their domain and start acting like he could throw shit down.
“Man, you look like you’re ready to beat some ass,” Nerd didn’t like Zeke any more than the next bastard.
“Well, that prick came in here, about to draw the gun he’s got tucked in the small of his back, and I went on alert.”
“Well, yeah he’s a big fucking asshole, but we have to keep it neutral with him,” Nerd said and tossed back a shot. “Fuck, give me another one,” Nerd jokingly demanded from the prospect serving them drinks.
Dirty, the prospect they’d nicknamed because he liked some really dirty sex, set the bottle of whiskey on the counter and grabbed more glasses. He started filling the glasses and handing them out.
“Just go find a loose bitch to fuck, let her suck on your cock, then fuck her in the ass,” Nerd said and started laughing. “Hell, I know you’re into that beating their ass and shit. There are some real funky chicks in here that would be more than happy to be black and blue for you.”
Striker grunted, knowing that there were plenty of females that liked to suck dick while they got their hair pulled, or who liked his belt right across the back of their thighs. Steel, a member into the rougher kind of sex, the kind that left marks, and had the girls screaming for more, wasn’t all that different from Striker.
Striker might like to have the women straining for him, have them begging him to stop, but he didn’t just like the pain and pleasure. He liked the humiliation, the beatings that had them crying, had them begging him to stop. But he couldn’t stop, and some of the women he fucked realized they liked what he had to give them, liked that he was rough, hard, and unforgiving with them.
He looked at the closed door of the meeting room, hated Zeke, but also knew the man owned some hardcore BDSM clubs. That’s what Striker was hard for; needed like he needed a fucking tight, wet pussy wrapped around his cock.
He finished off his alcohol, knew that if he didn’t find a woman, he might just go in there and beat Zeke down. That or follow him to his club and slip in without the bastard knowing a Soldier was there, thinking they were there to start shit. Hell, that’s just what he needed; the guys finding out he was so fucking twisted and hard up he had to go to that motherfucker’s place of business.
He snagged the closest club whore that walked by, all but hauled her to his body, and strode down the hallway to his room. Yeah, he’d be fucking her good and hard tonight, and trying not to think about all the dark, delicious things he could do to a woman at Zeke’s.
Chapter 4
Shakes stood in Zeke’s house after getting a call that he was needed, or more like demanded, to show up. He was tired from the revelation last night. Dani was pregnant, and they were going to have a little baby. He was so damn happy inside, but he couldn’t show it. Zeke’s reaction put a damper on the entire situation, and Shakes didn’t know whether or not to be happy about it in front of him.
Entering the house, he made his way toward the kitchen. He heard Zeke in there messing around. Standing in the doorway, he saw Zeke was making himself something to eat. He didn’t know if he should take this as a good or bad sign. Zeke wasn’t known for being domesticated.
“You took your time,” Zeke said, without looking up.
“You call me from the other side of the city during rush hour. It wasn’t going to be easy getting here.”
Zeke looked up. “Dani came to see me.”
Shakes tensed up, his hand going to his piece behind his back.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. I’ve told my boys that if they hear a gunshot and I’m dead, they’re to kill you instantly.” Zeke was always one step ahead.
“What the fuck do you want, Zeke?”
“Is that anyway to speak to your father-in-law?”
Gritting his teeth, Shakes forced himself to remain calm. Zeke nodded his head toward a seat, and Shakes reluctantly lowered himself into it. There was no way he could kill Zeke, not when it would hurt Daniella the most.
“Dani came to see me in one of my strip clubs. Scared me to fucking death when I saw her there.”
“Wait? She was actually at one of the strip clubs?” Shakes asked. It was news to him. He didn’t know that his woman was aware of any of the specific businesses her father was part of. The last place Shakes wanted her hanging out was near Zeke’s business. Fuck, she was pregnant, and she shouldn’t be doing that shit.
“Yeah, my thoughts exactly.”
“What did she see?” Shakes asked, annoyed.
“Nothing. She didn’t see anything, but she sure heard plenty.”
Cursing, Shakes ran fingers through his hair. “I don’t want her exposed to that kind of shit.”
“I didn’t want her exposed to the biker life, but I didn’t get what I wanted.”
“You were the one who made us take care of her. The only person you can blame is yourself. I don’t have to listen to this fucking shit. I love your daughter. I’ve proven that.”
“And now you’ve knocked her up.”
“Why else would you be here,” Zeke said. “I didn’t want her to be at my strip club. I’ve tried to keep that shit away from her.”
“I didn’t want her to come and see you. I wanted to handle it. It’s my business.”
“And it’s my daughter’s business as well. Don’t start to push her out of it.”
Shakes stood up, glaring at him. “Don’t fucking do that. Dani shouldn’t be anywhere near you.”
“And you think you’re any better?” Zeke asked.
Before he knew it, Shakes had drawn his gun and was pointing it at Zeke. He wasn’t surprised to see Zeke doing exactly the same.
“Well, we’re at this point again, Shakes,” Zeke said. “Have you got the balls to do it?”
“Fuck you.”
“I’m Dani’s father, your unborn baby’s grandfather. Are you going to kill me?” Zeke asked, taunting him.
“What about me?” Shakes asked.
“What about you?” Derision leaked from Zeke’s voice. Shakes didn’t have a problem with how Zeke viewed him. He couldn’t stand the bastard himself.
“I’m the love of Dani’s life. It’s my baby in her belly, my ring on her finger, and my last name that she bears. You going to put me in the ground? You would never see her again.”
They both had a great deal of power that they could use against the other.
“What the fuck is going on?” Dani asked, shocking both men as she walked into the kitchen. Neither of them lowered their weapons, and Shakes didn’t look away from Zeke. One moment of weakness and he’d be a dead fucker.
“We’re having a little discussion, honey,” Zeke said.
“This is completely insane. Neither of you should be ready to shoot each other.”
“Dani, baby, what are you doing here?”
“I came the moment I got your text that you were going to meet my father.”
“Did you need her as protection against me?” Zeke asked, mocking.
Shakes pressed a little on the trigger.
“Stop it!” Dani yelled.
Only her raised voice made him ease up on the trigger.
“I want you both to lower your guns now!” The last word was once again yelled at them.
Neither of them lowered their guns. She growled at their lack of response.
“That’s it; if you two can’t get along, I’m gone, and you can finally kill each other,” Dani said.
The way she spoke had Shakes lowering his weapon the same time Zeke did. They both turned to her, and Shakes’ heart broke. Tears were glistening in her eyes, and he’d never known how upset she was that he and Zeke were at constant odds.
“Honey,” Zeke said,
“Baby,” Shakes said.
“No. No honey. No baby. No nothing.” She looked from one to the other. Her tears fell down her cheeks, and each tear was like a punch to the gut. He hated it. Shakes had promised to make her the happiest woman in the world, and he’d failed.
“I’m carrying a baby. An innocent life that you’re going to be the father to, and you’re going to be the grandfather to. I don’t have a mother. I don’t have anyone else. The two of you are all I’ve got.” She stopped, and he watched her take in a shuddering breath. “If you two can’t stop trying to kill each other, then I’ll do this alone. I don’t have a fucking clue how I’m going to raise this baby on my own, but I will. I don’t want to, but I will. I love you, Shakes, with all of my heart and soul. I don’t want to live without you. Dad, we’ve had a lot of problems, and we’re working through them. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life fighting you.”
“Honey,” Zeke said.
She held her hand up silencing them both.
“No, I don’t want to hear it. You’ve got to learn to get along. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life worrying if my baby’s father is going to come home, or if its grandfather finally killed him. I don’t want to be scared about you two killing each other. It has to stop. It isn’t good for me or the baby.”
Dani had started to yell once again. He couldn’t blame her. Walking in on the two of them with their weapons drawn wasn’t good for any of them. She turned toward Zeke. “I get it, okay. I’m your daughter, and you can’t handle that I’m all grown up. I’m in love with Shakes. I am pregnant with his baby. Deal with it, because I had to deal with you fucking your whores all these years. I’ve had to listen to the kind of shit you do. I’m being blunt here for you, Dad. Deal with it, or be done with me, because I’m not going to run, not anymore.”
Shakes didn’t think she needed to be that blunt, but he was proud of the strength she had.
“I’m going to go home. If Shakes comes home, then this is the last time you draw a weapon on each other. We’re all a family, and it’s time you both started to realize that.”
She nodded at each of them before turning and walking away.
Shakes stared at Zeke, and Zeke returned the glare.
“Am I going home to my woman tonight?” Shakes asked.
“Do you think this is fucking funny?”
“No. If I thought it was funny, I’d be laughing. My woman has just given us an ultimatum. We either agree or we end this now. I agree with her. I’m tired of looking over my shoulder, waiting for you to strike.” Shakes rubbed the back of his head. “Kill me now, and be done with it. But just know that no matter what, even if I’m gone, I will always be in your life through my child. And you can tell my son or daughter why I’m not around. You can look your grandchild in the eyes and tell them that you took their father away.”
Zeke placed his gun on the counter. “I can’t kill you; Dani’s right. We can play this game for a long time, but the truth is that you’ve got a baby on the way. My daughter decided to pick you, and I’ve got to accept that. It’s not what I want, but we’re done.”
Shakes nodded.
“I spoke to Demon today,” Zeke said.
“Why?”
“He’ll fill you in on that. Just know what I did, I did for my daughter.”
Shakes knitted his brows. “Don’t fuck with the club, Zeke, and don’t fuck with Daniella’s life. I’m a part of it for the long haul.”
“Don’t you regret getting booted out of the club?” Zeke asked.
He stopped for a second and thought about the club. “No, I don’t regret it.”
“Why?”
“When you’re part of the club, you have to come to terms with death being the end game. I accepted death since I had nothing to live for.”
“And now?”
“I’ve got Dani to lose, and the club can’t give me anything that would make me want to risk losing her. Before Dani, I chose death; after Dani, I choose life.”
Chapter 5
Striker adjusted the baseball cap on his head, pulled up the collar on his leather jacket, and moved toward the BDSM club. He’d heard this one was pretty fucking hardcore; he knew that the excitement he felt in his blood could be very dangerous. He was going into Zeke’s domain, onto his territory, and he needed to make sure he was on alert. He hadn’t worn his cut, wasn’t letting his club markings show.
Tonight, he was here to watch, to see if what he saw made him want more, want to play with a fire even hotter.
There was a bouncer waiting at the front door, and the brightly lit red neon sign that read DOMINION cast a ruby glow a few feet in front of the sidewalk. There wasn’t a line of people waiting inside, but there were people discreetly dressed coming and going through the front doors. He stopped at the front door to let two women go ahead of him; their long leather jackets hid something wicked underneath. He just fucking knew it, knew that once he stepped through these doors, he might not ever want to come out.
Striker liked certain things when he was fucking. He liked a woman a certain way, liked when they
were on their knees, looking up at him with tears in their eyes, their submission clear on their faces. He didn’t consider himself a sick bastard, not in the sexual sense at least. He just liked a certain amount of pain with his pleasure, a certain amount of power when he fucked a woman.
He did like to leave his marks on the females, liked to show them he was the one in charge, and it was up to him to give them pleasure if he saw fit. He wanted them restrained, bound, and completely helpless to him. Their tears were an added touch; he was harder than rock when he saw those glistening droplets. He’d licked them off their cheeks before, making them cry harder when he whispered how much he’d enjoy beating them, leaving their pretty bodies black and blue.
But the women were always willing, always wanted what he gave them. They were pain sluts in every sense of the word, loved to submit to him solely for the fact that he was their Dominant and they wanted to obey him to heighten the pleasure.
He stopped in front of the bouncer, eyed the fucker up and down, and although he was big and bulky, muscular and tall, Striker was bigger, more powerful.
“You know the rules?” The bouncer asked, maybe sensing, or hell, just knowing Striker had never been here before. But before Striker could say anything, the bouncer was speaking again. “All are welcome, but the cover is a hundred.”
Striker handed over the money.
“You want to participate, you pay for a membership. Only willing participants are allowed, and if someone says their safe word, you stop or you get bones broke.” The bouncer stared at Striker. “Other than that, anything goes.” He pushed the door open for Striker, and without waiting for him to say anything else Striker went inside.
