I stared at the stupid chair he’d found—it was bigger and taller than all the rest. I grabbed it from the platform and threw it to the cement floor. It busted in two just as easy as the Old Man had ridden out of here, too fucking easy. I’d expected some kind of fight from him. That’s what felt off about this. It wasn’t a victory if I didn’t have to battle.
“You ready to celebrate?” Dare shouted as I hauled two more bags of trash to the Dumpster.
I shrugged, not able to put my finger on why I was in a shit mood. I ought to be happy.
“What’s all this?” He picked up the last two bags of trash.
“The Old Man’s shit he littered the place with, I wasn’t feeling it.”
Dare gave me one of those wild grins of his. “I hope you smashed that fucking throne of his. Please say you’ll never use it.”
“First thing to go, man. I don’t need anything for the brothers to respect me. And if I do, my fists will say it all.”
He laughed as he threw the bags over the side of the metal bin. “Brother, I want to celebrate and you’re required.” Dare punched my arm. “Need art for this shit?”
My pulse picked up, I hardly ran an ink gun these days—that sounded perfect. “Hell yeah. Where?”
“I wanted to put him on my ass, but Red’s been bitching about me needing a piece on my stomach.”
“Red, hunh?” I punched him back. “You prep the bar while I fuckin’ think.”
I booked it to my room and pulled an art pad from the desk, thinking about the piece we needed to commemorate this moment.
Inspiration struck. I drew but I couldn’t get the idea on paper fast enough, the image burned in my head. Once I put the last details on the drawing, I grabbed my phone and texted Bear. Tat celebration.
I rushed to the front, ready to mark the end of my purgatory, and begin a new chapter in our club.
“Fucker, you’re going to suck my dick this is so fucking good,” I told Dare.
“Nah, you’ll suck me,” Bear yelled, Ollie, his fucking lover, by his side.
“We’re getting tats. Come see,” Dare told him.
The three of them bent over the bar, assessing my drawing.
“Righteous. I’m first,” Bear declared.
“Fuck off.” Dare punched his arm. “I did the prep, I’m getting the needle first.”
“Boys.” Ollie stared at us. “It’ll be me with this ink first.”
I schooled my face so Bear didn’t punch me, but there was no fucking way. Ollie didn’t understand the club. And I could see in the tense way Bear held himself that he knew it too.
“Because tomorrow, I’ll be your newest recruit.” Ollie was all swagger.
I shook my head, trying to be sure I’d heard right. My gaze went to Bear. Head bent and his jaw muscle ticked—so it was true, and he hated it. He’d been quiet about it, but I knew Ollie was on edge, pushing at Bear for change, and the last change I wanted was for him to leave. Looked like this was the price for Bear to stay. I suppose two gay brothers was better than losing Bear, not that everyone would agree but I was the Prez and I accepted new recruits.
“Bear sponsors you, then I’m all in.” I held out my hand.
“No,” Bear growled. “I can’t be the fucking sponsor, you can’t.” He nodded to me. “You do this?” Bear pinned Dare with his angry stare.
“Yeah, brother, my honor.” Dare’s eyes settled on Ollie. “Prospects go last, no matter what kind of badass you are anywhere else, here you’re my slave until you earn the cut.” He crossed his arms. “Think that through, and if you can be good with that, I’ll sponsor you.”
Ollie narrowed his eyes, assessing Dare. “I’ll do that.”
Dare gestured me up on the bar. “Where?”
“Nah, you first. Stomach.” We all had the three reapers, marked on our backs to show our alliance so this tattoo on the flipside suited me just fine.
“You put that shit right here.” Dare slammed his fist into his gut. “You do it, no traces.”
Gathering the gear, excitement shot through me—this feeling was one I’d craved. Like a junkie, I lived for the bright spots in my haze of numbness.
I dipped the needle in black ink and began the lettering for Jericho Brotherhood. Then, I outlined the three reapers, hoods thrown back to reveal skeletal faces with eyes burning. Each scythe dripped blood with a pile of bones at their feet. Time for a break so I turned off the needle and smacked Dare’s shoulder.
“Go grab some water, we got color to go, at least an hour if not two.”
He glanced down and a smile widened on his face. “I want a third skull in those bones once we get rid of Renegade.”
“Always the plan, brother.” Renegade was the last of my vengeance. He’d been sidelined by the Old Man, and I planned to push him out the fucking door. He’d had just as much to do with Layla’s end as the Old Man. And his ideas on family and club were just wrong. Maybe more wrong than the Old Man. One move at a time, Renegade would be easy to retire.
We tattooed through the night and as the sun brought in the next day I felt it—satisfaction. Under the needle, the pain cleared the fog and my thoughts crystallized. I’d achieved the goal I’d worked toward since I was fourteen, and now I had to find something new to drive me forward beyond taking out the trash. Fear of that new future pulled at me, dragging me low. I’d never been good with uncertainty. And by necessity the next few months were nothing but uncertain as I rebuilt the club, strengthening her core. I sent the boys home and closed up. It was well after ten in the morning before I headed to bed.
I woke later in the afternoon ready to move forward. First I needed to fill the holes in my leadership circle, then I’d figure out the next step and the next until a plan formed. I always had a plan. I sent a text to Rebel to stop by in a couple of hours and went in search of Thorn. I knocked on the door to his room.
“Yeah,” his deep voice called out.
I walked in to find him on the floor doing push-ups. The fucker was huge—taller than my 6ꞌ2” and more ripped than Rock. No one messed with him. “Need a word, come out to the table.”
I turned and left, grabbing a bottle of Wild Turkey before I sat down. Thorn showed up fifteen minutes later with wet hair. He opened the bottle and drank deep.
“You know what I want.” I’d already told him, but he’d refused to commit then. “You as my Sergeant at Arms.”
“That’s not a good idea.” He swallowed more bourbon. “I’m not even good in my own skin. Let alone being responsible for others. Hell I still lock myself up at night to be sure my nightmares don’t become reality.”
“You can do this. We need you here, and you need a job. I need a man who won’t take shit and who will discourage challenges.” I stared at him. “That’s you.”
“Fuck. What if I go too far? I have trouble with that line.”
I shrugged. “What if they deserve it? You’ll discourage all the petty shit changes in leadership stir up. You need to be here, in sessions with that VA person every week. It fits. And you give good advice. I need that.”
He scraped his hair back and tied it up. “If you’re sure, then I’ll do it, but I’ll do it by the book, no looking the other way.”
I grinned and stood going to him. “Brother, that’s what I’m counting on. I need you and Dare keeping me in line.”
Thorn stood. “This means I’m yours. I’ll let Romeo know I’m done working for JB Securities.”
Frowning after him, I was glad he’d agreed but concerned the toll this job would take on him.
I was in the kitchen fixing a sandwich for supper when my phone pinged. It was Rebel. Where are you?
“Kitchen,” I yelled.
The door swung open and Rebel joined me. “Make me one.”
“Make your o
wn.” I grabbed a paper plate and moved out of his way.
He grumbled but went to work on his own sandwich. Once we’d put the shit away, Rebel followed me back to my table—it was habit, and I liked the feeling of being in my spot when we discussed business.
“I want you to take over Bound,” I told him between bites.
He sighed and set down his sandwich before he’d even taken a bite. “Can’t do it.”
I frowned. “What did you say?” Brothers didn’t say no to me. He’d been all but running it when the Old Man was there. Was he Renegade’s man?
“I don’t want to run all those damn women, and I got a new idea. One that I need to do.” He leaned back and met my stare with the stubborn jaw that meant his mind was made up.
“What is it?” I didn’t even want to know. I needed strength in Ardmore, and that meant Rebel. But he also deserved his chance. Fuck, I hated when plans didn’t fall in line.
“Skip tracing, maybe a full bail bonds service—the ones that combine both make the money. I got the full plan written up, investment, stages, and return to the club.”
Son of a bitch, my day was heading south quick. Part of me wanted to shut him down, now, but he was a smart bastard, and we needed new revenue as much as we needed Bound secured.
“Who runs Bound if we do this?” It was his problem to solve. If he wanted out, then he needed to give me his replacement.
He tapped fingers on the table then took a bite.
Impatience made me want to snap, but I waited. I ran through the brothers trying to come up with one who could take the lead
“Viper,” Rebel said. “Smart, likes the club, good relationship with the clients, and he’s ready for responsibilities.”
“He’s with Bear as much as he’s at Bound. Will he do it?”
He ate more of his sandwich. “Yeah, he has a taste for leadership and the smarts to do it.”
“You will train him, the next month, then I’ll put this idea to the vote.” I eyed him. “No guarantees we’ll do it.”
“It make sense, and it’d keep us from bleeding out so many of the security guys who get sick of the long assignments. They’d have a home with Brotherhood Bonds.” He leaned back with his cocky smile. “You won’t be able to say no, once you see the income potential.”
“I’ll wait until I see the plan and how Bound’s running.” The implication was clear. I needed Bound in line if we were going to add new businesses. Bound was a weakness without the right leadership because Renegade would want to step into that role if I gave him an opening.
* * *
My phone buzzed against my nightstand waking me up from a dead sleep. I reached for it in the dark—Viper. Fuck, trouble at Bound, no doubt.
“Speak,” I answered.
“Fuck, man, Misty is on her way to the hospital, Ren did it, I know it, man, I didn’t see him, but it was him. He partied here all night and when the alarm sounded from her room, one of the girls said he’d been in there. But now he’s nowhere to be found.” Viper’s words piled on top of each other as he hurried to fill me in.
“How bad?” This was Viper’s first week running things without Rebel, and now we had trouble. Someone always tested new leaders, but I hadn’t expected it to be Renegade. That bastard had been quiet these past five weeks. Until now he’d brought playthings with him to rough up—he’d never hurt one of our girls before.
“Hospital bad.” Viper spoke low. “She’s got something broken and is bloody from the shallow slices to her tits.”
“Motherfucker.” I climbed out of bed, searching for my pants. “On my way. We’ll have a meeting at three when Bound closes.”
“Got it boss. This shit will stop, even if I have to snap the fucker’s neck.” Anger pulsed in Viper’s words.
“You know it, brother. Dare and I are on our way.” I clicked off to call Dare.
I sped away from the clubhouse and headed to Bound, pulling into the lot in record time. Dare roared into the lot minutes after me.
“I get to beat anyone?” Dare snarled.
I clasped his shoulder. “Nope, just scare the shit out of the brothers here. Oh, call Rock, someone needs to cover the club.”
“Done.” Dare retrieved his phone and spoke seconds before nodding and hanging up. “He’s headed that way.”
We walked into Bound side by side and a path opened in front of us. “You find the bikers here. I’ll talk to Viper.”
Viper stood in the employee kitchen, a dingy place, I made a mental note to have him overhaul it. “You and me in the office. You guys tell Dare what you saw.” I pointed to the four other bikers also in the kitchen.
I made a quick scan looking for Ren’s friends in the MC—Ghost for sure, the others I had no idea. While their friendship with Renegade shouldn’t matter, a warning pulsed inside me. This was a power play and that meant Ren had more in store for me.
Viper and I headed downstairs to his dungeon, where he’d set up his office. The room was sparse with a black desk, only a couple files out along with the laptop. He was one of the tech-savvy brothers who had helped run the network for the porn company.
“You know more?”
“Only that Ren scheduled her for nine to eleven, but when security did a walk by each of those hours they didn’t see any rough stuff. Greg walked by about 12:15 and saw her laying there crumpled, unconscious.” Viper smacked his desk. “Fucking unacceptable, I won’t run Bound this way.” He stared at me. “I thought we were doing shit different.”
I leaned forward. “Did you see this coming? Because I sure as fuck didn’t.” I made sure he understood. “I will stop this shit. Thursday at Council, be there with your vote and we’ll outlaw this shit.”
Viper turned away and paced his small office. “We need him out of the damn Brotherhood.”
“Yeah, I have a plan to remove him and it won’t be months long.”
“Okay, fine.” Viper sat down again. “What do you need?”
“A spy, here at the club, or outside, someone close but not too close to Ren.” I smoothed my hair and tied it back with the leather tie I always carried.
“He stays away from the men.” He tapped his fingers.
“A move like this is his opening play, he wants Bound, so I got to have ears in his camp. Ears we can trust.” I hated putting any woman in the line of Ren’s kind of retribution. “Who does he see?”
“Marr, but she don’t take her role lightly. I doubt she’d cross the line, and I’m not sure she likes me more than him.” He huffed out a breath. “The workers follow her, though.”
“Other options?”
“He’s got a couple of subs like Misty, his favorites, but—”
The door burst open and a black-haired ball of fury stormed inside. “What the fecking hell? We a club or not? Girls being fucked up, that’s bullshit, Viper.”
Marr. I’d seen her profile online, but it didn’t do her justice. Even in five-inch heels she didn’t hit six foot, but she took up all the space in the room. Damn she was hot. Spiked boots that molded to calves, creamy white thighs, wide hips, impossibly small waist—waist-trained no doubt—created a sensual picture. But her huge tits tempted me. I forced my gaze to her annoyed face. Green cat eyes stared at me and her lips curved in a sarcastic smile.
“You like what you see?” she purred.
I didn’t respond.
“You like us curvy girls? Maybe you liked Misty too fuckin’ much.” She spat before turning to Viper. “Who is the ass who doesn’t know better than to disrespect me?”
“The ass is Isaac Jericho,” I said.
Her lips parted, just a little, but that’s all the reaction my announcement received.
“And a Master,” I added, just to tweak her tits.
“Marr,” Viper soothed. “Jer
icho will tell you about our plans when the club closes at three.”
“Yah?” She marched up to Viper’s desk and smacked her crop against it. “Who’s going pay for Misty’s hospital stay? Who? Who’s bloody going to take this club in hand?” she demanded in a distinct Irish accent.
This Domme, Master or no, was pissing me off. If this was how she treated Viper, it was no wonder the other didn’t respect him. She needed to understand her place. “You always barge into the other Masters’ dungeons? Let alone your manager’s?”
She jerked her head to Viper. “He’s not a real manager. Doesn’t know shit, Master Arsehole.” She gave a little dip of a curtsey, smart-ass woman, and stormed from the room.
The door slammed with an echoing boom.
Viper laughed, leaning back in his chair. “She’s Ren’s Domme and not a fan of yours, even before you impressed her.” He steepled his fingers. “She is in the best position to spy on Ren.”
“What’s she got against me?”
“You don’t play here, they don’t know you, and they don’t trust what they don’t know.” Viper had a point.
He added another thing to his plate—spend time at Bound. If he’d done that would he have stopped Ren’s move tonight? Probably not, but it pissed him that he’d let his distaste for the place leave it open to attack.
“Just the way my day’s going.” One thing was going right—Marr. Anticipation lit me up because she was a challenge. Women rarely stood up to me, and my cock liked it, liked her. When she became my spy I’d be spending a lot of time with her.
Chapter Two
Marr
I’d left those two idiots in order to call the hospital—Misty was still in surgery. I needed facts. Some said Renegade did the damage, others said it had been Ghost, either way, the trouble sat with the damn Jericho Brotherhood. Now the Old Man was gone, I’d expected life to improve, not get worse.
Deny: A Dark, Erotic Motorcycle Club Romance Page 2
