Troubled Son: Savage Sons MC Romance

by King, Jayna

  I wasn't surprised that I thought about Max before I even opened my eyes. I felt pretty good about her ability to handle herself with the Sons, but the problem was that I was attracted to her. Really attracted to her. Like, I couldn't stop thinking about her -- clothed, in the underwear I'd bought for her, naked -- Max occupied my thoughts in a way that pushed everything else out. That was dangerous and I knew it. I had to find a way to get it under control.

  I worked out, one of my tried and true methods for getting my head straight. I put some death metal on the stereo in my gym, cranked up the volume, and I added a little more weight and a few more reps to every set I did. By the time I finished, my muscles were shredded, and I felt great. As soon as I walked out of the gym, Max invaded my head again.

  When I'd built my house out in the middle of nowhere west of Castle Rock -- the little town between Denver and Colorado Springs -- I'd had the money to make it exactly the way I wanted it. I'd designed most of the place, and I'd hired the individual contractors myself to make sure that they didn't rip me off or try to cheap out on things. I loved my house. It was the only place where I could find quiet and take a break from the craziness of the club and my work.

  Whether I was in the tattoo studio or at the club, I was surrounded by noise, drama, sex, girls, booze, and drugs. Don't get me wrong. I love all of those things, but if I don't get some quiet I start to feel a little crazy. Sweaty and physically tired, I stood in front of the wall of windows along the back of the house. I looked at the Front Range of the Rockies and realized that maybe more than anything, I was going to miss my home when I left. I checked the time and decided to get a move on.

  I stripped off my sweaty clothes and tossed them into the laundry room off the kitchen, and I walked through the house naked. With the water running, I looked in the mirror, decided I could wait a day to shave, and stepped into one of my favorite places in the world. The shower was really a room all its own -- warm, earth colored tiles on three walls with an entire wall of glass that looked out onto the mountain range.

  As I washed my hair, I thought about what Max would think of my place. We'd have to share the bathroom since I hadn't built this house planning on sharing it with anyone. As soon as I thought about her, I started to get hard picturing her with wet hair, body all slick and glistening. I took care of business, hoping that jerking off would clear my head. It didn't.

  I dried off and got dressed. It was supposed to be warmer, so I pulled on a short sleeved shirt with my jeans and boots. Before I even got out of my bedroom I could hear at least one of my cell phones ringing. So much for my peace and quiet. Time to get the day started.

  The cell that was ringing was one of the pre-paids, and the caller's ID was blocked. That meant it could be any one of the Sons.

  "Yeah," I answered.

  "It's Joker. We got a problem."

  "Phone or in person?" I asked, looking at my watch and figuring that I had enough time to meet before my first appointment at the shop.

  "Person. Waffle House in half an hour."

  "Can do."

  I hung up the phone and wondered if Bug had gotten to Joker and thrown a big pussy bitch fit about the night before. I went out on the the back deck since it would only take me about twenty minutes to get into Castle Rock, and I didn't want to spend any longer at the Waffle House than I had to.

  Joker had been going through a rough patch lately. I thought that the extra business we were doing was weighing on him, and he and my aunt had been going through a hard time too. Joker had been spending a lot of nights away from home checking up on the labs we had cooking meth. They were all out in the middle of nowhere, and it took nearly four days to make the rounds of all of them -- dropping off supplies, picking up fresh goods, and making sure the guys working there were okay. Joker had put himself into the rotation of Sons who worked to make sure the labs kept running, and Sable wasn't happy about his being away from home that much. She was jealous, and she had every reason to be. She knew damn well that Joker didn't spend many nights alone, and if she wasn't in his bed, then she knew some other girl was. You'd think after so many years that she'd be used to it, but the fiery fights seemed to fuel her passion for Joker, even though they just seemed to exhaust my uncle. Better him than me, I thought as I put on my cut and headed out to my bike.

  Joker's bike was in the parking lot just off 25 when I got there. I waved at the waitress and signaled for a cup of coffee as I headed to the corner table where the Sons' President waited for me.

  "What's up?" I asked as I slid into the seat.

  Joker waited until the waitress had walked away after putting down the concave curved mug that matched the set I had at home -- swiped one at a time until I had an even six. The waitresses all knew I'd taken them, so I didn't feel bad. I tipped well.

  Joker shook his head as he stirred Sweet & Low into his coffee and topped it up with cream. "Jimmy and the Sons up in Fort Collins had another run in with the Vandals last night."

  I shook my head. This was exactly the sort of bullshit that made me want to get the fuck out of the Sons. "What happened?"

  "According to Jimmy, one of Gracie's girls sold to a guy over the state line near Cheyenne. He didn't want to pay up, and he beat the shit outta the girl. She's up in the hospital in Fort Collins. Gave 'em some story to keep the doctors from calling the cops, but we can't let this shit stand. Jimmy ain't sure how, but he's pretty sure the Vandals were involved."

  "Joker, you knew this was gonna happen when we started moving into Vandal territory. They're not just gonna hand over their business to us without a fight."

  "No shit. But they can't just fuck up our girls and expect to get away with it."

  "I thought that Jimmy had agreed to stay out of Wyoming, though."

  "Yeah, well he hasn't exactly been following the rules. We've been pushing more stuff on him than he can move in Fort Collins, and he's been trying to quietly get rid of a little extra for us. I though he was flying under the radar, but apparently the Vandals have decided to send him a message."

  I shook my head again, disgusted. "You knew this was going on?"

  "Yeah. I did. Sable and Gracie had talked, and Gracie thought she could move it throughout the girls and no one would know the difference."

  "Fucking Gracie needs to lay off the crank herself before she can be trusted to handle expanding our business. What was Jimmy thinking?"

  Joker narrowed his eyes at me -- the same stare I saw every time he felt like I was challenging his authority.

  "Moses, it was my call. It's done, and we have to figure out how to handle it. That's all there is to it."

  I looked down at the table and held the mug in both of my hands. I sat there and wished that Joker had called me just because Bug had gotten his panties in a wad again. I didn't want to deal with sorting out hookers and crank and rival MCs anymore. I was tired of it, and I wanted it all to go away.

  "So what's your plan?"

  "Jimmy wants to pay the Vandals back. Apparently the girl was holding a couple hundred dollars worth of crank and a bunch of cash. That all vanished with the guy who beat her up."

  "Jesus." I thought for a minute. "I can see why Jimmy's pissed, but what does he want to do? Go to war over a couple of hundred bucks and a banged up hooker?"

  "I know it's not that much money, but Gracie's telling Jimmy that her girls ain't gonna sell no more. She says they're scared."

  There wasn't anything funny about what he said, but I laughed anyway. "That's a simple fuckin' fix, man. Cut off the crank for a day or two, and those fuckin' whores will do anything he wants 'em to."

  "Yeah. Guess you're right about that. That don't solve the problem of the Vandals, though."

  I felt stuck. I didn't really care that much about the petty MC pissing matches anymore. I was getting out one way or another, and by the time I was done, there wouldn't be much of the Sons left if things went the way we had planned. I couldn't take the chance on looking weak, though. I had to at least
pretend to have the interests of the club in mind.

  "Can it wait until church on Sunday?"

  Joker sighed, and I could tell that he had a lot weighing on his mind. He also looked like he hadn't gotten a whole lot of sleep, and based on the fumes from across the table, I was guessing he had a hangover to boot.

  "Goddamn, Moses, I'm getting too old for this shit."

  "Well, if Bug weren't out of his mind, you could delegate some stuff to him, but I bet if he had his way we'd be on our way to Wyoming with guns blazing."

  Joker leaned forward, arms on the table. "Moses, you have to quit fuckin' with him. You know he thinks you want his VP job, and I know you got no interest in it. If you'd leave him alone, he wouldn't worry so much."

  "I've told him a hundred times that I don't want it, and if he don't listen, I can't do anything about it. If he'd quit doing stupid shit like what he pulled last night, I wouldn't be on his case."

  "Goddamn, sometimes I feel like a babysitter."

  "Whatever." I finished my coffee. "Can it wait until our meeting on Sunday or not? I have appointments to get to."

  Joker watched me as I stood up. "I guess it can wait. I'll tell Jimmy that he has to sit tight for a few days."

  "Good. I'll probably swing by the clubhouse after I close up for the day. I have plans with my girl tomorrow, so I won't be around."

  "So this girl?"

  "Yeah?"

  "I hear from Butch that she's a looker."

  I shrugged. "What the fuck do you expect? That I'm gonna make some raggedy piece of ass my old lady?"

  "Old lady?"

  I knew that Joker would be surprised. I'd known the man all of my twenty-five years, and never had I ever settled down with just one woman.

  "Yeah. Figured it was about time. And she's less crazy than any woman I've ever met, and she's smokin' hot."

  "She like to party?"

  "Not anymore. She was in a bad way before she got to Colorado. She left a piece of shit boyfriend behind, and she's cleaned up."

  Joker laughed. "Then what the hell's she doing with you?"

  I laughed as well as I walked away. "Rockin' my world, man. See you later."

  He waved and signaled to the waitress for the check. Of everything I knew I'd have on my conscience after I got out of the Savage Sons, Joker was gonna bother me the most. I loved the man like a father, and I hated to think about him in prison. But that was where he belonged. I knew that I probably belonged there too, but I could save myself. I was gonna be the straightest arrow in the world after I got away. I didn't pray, but if I did, I'd have promised God that I'd never break another law again after I left, and I would have no trouble keeping that promise.

  Chapter 15

  Max

  April 4, 2013

  I couldn't believe it while I was getting ready, but I was actually looking forward to shopping at Goodwill. I had my beater car, and I needed clothes to go with it. Since I wasn't supposed to meet Moses until the afternoon, I had the morning free to pack up the few things I wanted to take with me when I moved into his place temporarily. I had to keep reminding myself that it was just temporary because the thought of being under the same roof with Moses Hall was making my temperature rise.

  Tombley had given me an old suitcase that would look the part for my cover. A recovering meth addict who's just escaped from an abusive relationship and is looking for work doesn't have brand new matching luggage. I folded my new clothes from a couple of days before and packed them, and I started going through my drawers and closet for simple pieces that would blend in with my new look. Not much of what I owned was appropriate.

  I got to my lingerie drawer, though, and I couldn't help but pack a few things. I threw in some sexy bra and panty sets and a few little nightgowns. I might have to crash in an unfamiliar place, but I wanted to have something pretty to sleep in.

  "God knows what his place is gonna look like," I said out loud while I folded some t-shirts. I'd been practicing sounding less polished and educated. It wasn't easy. "The fuckin' place is probably a mess." I looked in the mirror. "Sounds pretty fuckin' convincing, don't it?"

  I'd realized that if I sprinkled f-bombs in liberally and shortened the ends of words -- "drivin'" instead of "driving," that I should fit right in. Mistrust of authority, the appearance of a thick skin, and lots of profanity seemed to be the key elements in the bravado of biker speak. I could handle it.

  I was really curious about Moses' house, and I wasn't sure what to expect. The clubhouse had been vile, to put it plainly. I was pretty sure that the smell of urine, vomit, whisky, and...well...pussy was never going away. It smelled like a frat house that had never ever been cleaned. Moses didn't appear to be a slob, but it was hard to tell. I knew that he spent some nights at the clubhouse, and I hoped I wouldn't have to do the same. If it gave us an advantage in terms of putting our case together, I knew I'd do it, though.

  I wasn't even sure if I'd have to share a bathroom with Moses. I assumed that there was a spare bedroom, but I wasn't used to sharing my space. Even when I was in St. Louis, Jason and I had maintained separate residences, and had only spent a night or two a week together. I liked it that way. As an only child, I'd never had to share a room, and I wasn't sure that I ever wanted to. Sure, I figured that I'd get married someday, but the thought of spending days on end living with the same person just seemed to foreign to me.

  All packed, the only thing left to do was get dressed, load up my shitty car, and pick some new old clothes at the secondhand store. I pulled out an old pair of jeans from the back of my closet. I hadn't moved much to Denver that I wasn't sure I'd wear, but the old jeans I held were one of my favorite pairs. Slightly out of date and frayed at the hem, I figured that this case was probably my last chance to wear them. They were the most expensive pair of jeans I'd ever bought, which meant, of course, that they looked like ragged castoffs. Except for the fact that they fit me perfectly.

  I'd bought them several years ago at a ridiculously expensive boutique in New York on a weekend visit with a friend from law school. I wasn't the easiest person to fit -- I wasn't perfectly petite and skinny as a rail. The salesperson had looked me up and down and brought me a single pair of jeans to try. They were perfect. I didn't even care that they cost hundreds of dollars. They looked amazing. I hadn't tried them on in a long time, though, and I hoped they still looked okay.

  Since I'd spent all day yesterday daydreaming about Moses in between my tech tutorials, I decided to wear something really sexy. I pulled out my favorite black boy shorts with the contrasting purple lace and slipped them on. I put on my jeans and realized that I'd forgotten just how low-rise they were. They just barely covered my underwear. I put on my matching bra, glad it was a pushup. I 'd decided that I wanted to see if I could knock Moses' socks off. He'd seemed all calm and collected while I'd been hot and bothered during our shopping trip. I wondered if I could get him as distracted as I 'd been.

  I decided that I looked pretty good in my jeans and bra that gave me amazing cleavage. I picked out the tiniest tank I had and pulled it over my head. Perfect. All I needed was the jacket that Moses had promised me. In the meantime, I'd have to settle for my North Face jacket and my Doc Martens again.

  Suitcase packed, I lugged it and my backpack with my electronic equipment to the parking garage. I loaded up the car and headed out for my shopping. I hit both Goodwill and the Salvation Army and ended up having to buy a huge duffel bag to shove everything in. I figured I'd have enough to get me through the case, assuming that Moses' shack had a washer and a dryer.

  I grabbed a sandwich for lunch, chatted briefly with Tombley to confirm that I'd gotten his message about my meeting Moses at his tattoo studio that afternoon, and realized that I needed to get on the road if I didn't want to be late. As dangerous as it was, I was actually looking forward to seeing Moses again. I felt a little nervous, wondering what he'd think of the outfit I'd chosen.

  I followed the directions I'd jotted down before I'
d left home. It was going to take a while to get used to life without a smartphone again. I pulled into the parking lot and could tell right away that Moses was there. His matte black bike occupied the parking space directly in front of the door. There were a couple of other bikes in the lot, along with several cars. Since the rest of the strip mall wasn't occupied, except for the convenience store at the opposite end, I could only assume that Red Sea Tattoo was busy. I checked the time and decided to head inside even though I was a few minutes early.

  I got out of the car and realized that the sun had warmed things up nicely. I shed my jacket and tossed it inside the car, deciding that I may as well get used to acting as if I was accustomed to walking around with my tits on display and my jeans cut so low that you could tell that I'd recently had a bikini wax. I laughed to myself as I thought about what Moses would say.

  I crossed the lot and opened the door. No Moses. I could hear the sound of two or three tattoo machines buzzing in the back of the shop, and I figured that the artists worked behind closed doors. The door chimed as I walked inside, and I waited to see if Moses would appear.

  A young woman stood up from behind the counter. I hadn't realized that she was there, so I must've jumped nearly to the ceiling, which made us both dissolve in laughter. When we finally stopped laughing, the woman dried the tears that threatened to ruin her makeup, and I checked her out. She looked a couple of years younger than I was, and she was beautiful in a heavily made-up sort of way. Her dark hair was pulled back into a messy, hairsprayed bun, and her thick bangs gave her hairstyle a dramatic look. She wore an emerald green metallic shirt that exposed both her arms and some serious cleavage. She was tiny, and the tight black jeans and black heel she wore made her look rail thin. She turned around to find a kleenex, and I realized that even though she was little, she managed to look voluptuous as the same time, her black jeans showing off a fantastic ass to go with her cleavage. She was gorgeous.