by L. Grubb
With his hand guiding me, he weaves us between occupied tables to an empty one on the edge of the room. Mack pulls my chair out for me before sitting on the other, placing his pint glass of beer on the table, the condensation leaving a puddle on the table. I take a seat and sip my vodka and coke. I notice my hand shaking and quickly place my drink alongside Mack’s. “This is unbearable, Mack. I can’t sit here knowing my every move, my every word, is being monitored by a psychopath,” I whisper to him, not making it obvious that I was actually talking.
Mack’s grimace is unmistakable and I hope Pike chose that moment not to be checking my movements. He schools his features quickly though and smiles instead, his hand stroking the top of mine. “Don’t worry, babe.” Something in his eyes makes me relax into my chair and take stock of the room around me; the brothers and the whores.
Amo and her old man, Trip, are on the other side of the room, conversing with two other guys who I don’t know. Pike is hovering by the pool table while Ranger and Grizz, I think that’s what his name is, has a heated game with insults thrown across the table at each other. I shake my head; men, they’re so competitive. Some club whores are mingling with the brothers and some are even clinging to them, their lips locked in an epic battle of tonsil tennis. I grimace, cringe, at how bold these women are. Actually, I find it rather disgusting at how desperate these girls – cause in reality that’s just what they are, girls – are to bag themselves an in with the club, have the instant protection it will get them. Their next to nothing clothes and faces caked in make-up doesn’t and couldn’t possibly earn them any kind of respect. I imagine they get treated the way they ask to get treated.
Amo spots us and waves dramatically with two arms, which makes me chuckle. She’s really nice and I can see myself becoming really good friends with her, if we stay in contact once everything is safe and done with and Mack kicks me on out the door with his size twelve boots. The thought hits me in a chest like a tonne of bricks and that says a lot; even if I’m not willing to admit in up in my brain or out loud with words. I need to stop these feelings before I get hurt, I need to protect myself.
“Hey, girl!” Amo is suddenly sat next to me with her glass of whatever she’s drinking, and I can tell she’s already had a few by the flush on her cheeks and the glazed look in her eyes. “I thought you would have been locked in the library again. I honestly didn’t expect you to come join the party.”
“What’s the celebration tonight?” I ask, genuinely intrigued considering all these guys do is party… like every night.
“Do these dudes need a reason? No. It’s just something that happens almost on a daily basis. Sometimes there’s a cause to celebrate but not tonight. I think it’s just because we’re stuck on lockdown still so what else are we all supposed to do?” Her northern accent is thick and strong when she’s has one too many and it makes her all the more endearing. “I’m surprised that hangover still isn’t kicking your arse. You were wasted last night.”
Remembering my drunken escapades last night, I groan and feel my cheeks heat with embarrassment. Again. “Yeah, last night was fun until I fell off my stool and forgetting the rest of the night completely.”
“You did drink a shit tonne of tequila, sweet cheeks. I’m not surprised you draw a blank after that very unfortunate incident.” Her laugh is loud but enticing and I feel a smile being pulled from me and I snort from trying desperately not to laugh. “Actually, I’m more surprised by the fact that you even remember anything before that. I had a fucking good night though. So much better getting pissed with a fellow woman then all these burly bikers.”
“I imagine it is. Can’t say I’ve experienced getting drunk with bikers.” I shake my head at the image of me, surrounded my big, hairy bikers and getting wasted with them like they were my best buds. “For that matter, I haven’t gotten drunk with any girl since I was about eighteen.”
“So, who do you get pissed with then?” Amo asks, her head going to the side and brows drawn together.
“Myself?” God, that makes me sound like a full on sad act. Now that I think about it, I’m a total loner; no friends that I call upon for a friendly chit-chat and to talk about our day, no calling them to arrange a night on the town. But I can’t really say it’s made me unhappy. No, what makes me unhappy is losing my mum and dad while I’m still young, not having them see me blossom further into my life, my career as a carer. Heck, my mother didn’t even see me graduate, or experience the excitement of getting my first job as a carer. Although we only rebuilt our relationship when she got sick, she turned out to be a completely different person to alcoholic self in the past; and her toy-boy was long gone.
“You’re shitting me?” Mack looks at me incredulously and I just shrug. Does he really have to judge? It’s not like I was shouting from the rooftops for people to be friends with me so I didn’t have to be such a loser. “Does your friends not bother? Or is it your work hours are crazy? I can’t imagine someone as amazing as you not having any friends.”
“No, I don’t have friends except some of the girls I work with but they’re not close, I don’t call them and they don’t call me. I lost contact with everyone from school and I honestly couldn’t care less.” My face heats, further embarrassment from my home life seems to have poured through the doors and revealed the pathetic excuse of a life that I lead. Having it spoke out with others makes it more real, whereas out there, the way I was living in my own little bubble, it didn’t matter so much. Now I just feel like a nobody. “Guess not everyone has such high opinions of me, Mack.”
“No, but at the end of the day, it’s their loss and our gain.” Mack winks at me before looking over my head toward the pool table. My shoulders instantly tense as I wonder what he’s seen that had him leave the conversation hanging in the air. I swallow, but my throat feels like razorblades are slicing through my skin. The hint of fear keeps me from keeping a regular breathing pattern and sweat breaks out across my brow. “Go to library. I’ll come get you when it’s safe,” Mack whispers in my ear, standing from the table. I follow suit and he briefly kisses me on the lips before turning on his heel, heading in the direction of a room I’ve not seen yet.
“Amo, will catch you later. I’m gonna head out too, I’m beat.” I yawn for effect and she waves me off. After one last smile toward her and Trip, I head in the direction of the library. My steps are steady, yet I’m using all my damn willpower not to rush or run through the shear fear of what’s going to happen and the fear, the anxiety, hammers through my whole body. I hope to fuck that Mack knows what he’s doing. Please, God, let him be okay when all is said and done.
Mack
From the room where we hold Church, I watch through the one-way-window as Hope leaves the main room. Only I know where she’s headed, and I know in there she’s completely safe; no sneaky windows and the lock is a triple deadbolt that even batman couldn’t get through. I can breathe a little easier knowing she’s going to be in there, away from the drama that will unfold. Pike’s beady eyes are also on Hope and my blood boils to the surface, my face heating and my fists clench. Calm it, Mack, don’t blow this shit yet.
Ranger knows when to call Church; I have roughly ten minutes to present the evidence to Pike when we confront him with his disloyal and disrespectful actions. I have a niggling feeling that this shit is going to blow up in our faces, I reckon Pike is onto us because the guy isn’t stupid, no one has really been the same around him since his bullshit, backstabbing, twattish behaviour came to light. It’s not through lack of trying, but every time he opens his mouth, I want to throat punch him so fucking hard that it causes serious fucking problems.
I shake myself out of the thoughts, I need my head in the game. Five minutes and counting. I’m working on complete auto-pilot that I don’t even realise I’ve finished everything.
On the black wall behind my chair, I have taped every email correspondence between Pike and Lynx up, the letters, big and bold, scream out at me and I grit my teeth
to stop the animalistic growl from escaping. I sit in my chair, light my ever-present cigar and tap my fingers on the table. My heart is racing, and my adrenaline is spiking to dangerous levels. I want Pike dead. I want him more than six feet under. No brother crosses the club and survives to tell the tale; that’s what my dad drilled into me at the delicate age of seven and it’s stayed with me.
I startle when the door opens and the brothers start trickling in; one by one. Pike will be in last, I know because Ranger and I orchestrated it that way. Ranger would have pulled Pike aside and will be asking him about the strip joint in Essex that Pike went to view for me; even though we have already had the discussion. But this gives me a chance to get the men up to speed and have everyone seated before he gets here and see the paper behind me. Every sordid, dirty fucking tale he’s told Lynx is bared for everyone to see.
I look at each and every face around the table, gauging their reactions as they read the betrayal, in black and white, behind me. Anger, hurt and despair are etched onto everyone’s faces. I don’t blame them, I feel all of those things and more.
“When Pike gets here, don’t utter a word. I’ll be doing the talking. No need to say shit unless I say otherwise, is that clear? It’s time to fucking end this before any of us get into a more precarious situation than we were already in before this jackass got involved.” The men nod, though I can tell that it’ll take a lot for these guys to stay seated with their mouths zipped shut.
The door creaks and I see everyone’s backs stiffen with tension, mine included. Ranger and Pike enter mid conversation and sit in their respective seats. Pike doesn’t notice anything amiss straight away as his eyes stay downwards.
The room is deadly silent, the tension can be cut with a knife and it takes a few minutes for Pike to realise that nothing is happening and his eyes look up and connect with mine. I can feel fire burning in mine and I hope to fucking God he can see it. His eyes shift over my shoulder and they widen in surprise at seeing all his emails on display. His mouth pops open like he’s going to say something, maybe a weak defence plea, but nothing comes out.
“I’m not a happy man right now, Pike, as you can probably guess.” I swallow back the anger and fight tooth and nail for the composure I’m known to have when in prickly situations. “I want to know what the fuck this club did wrong for you to betray us in such a manner? You wear that patch, you’re meant to fucking honour that patch.” My voice is has risen in volume, so much so that a few of the brothers jump, gulping in surprise. “I trusted you, man, and this is how you repay me? You fuck with my fucking livelihood and for what? We rescued you from a life on the street, a life out of prison. You’re a good for nothing cowardly piece of shit.”
“Prez, I…” He trails off. He knows there are no words that will repair the damage he’s caused. All this back and forth crap with Lynx about Hope, about Lucy - whose just 14-years-old - is horrid. He’s just endangered not only two girls’ lives but the lives of his brother’s too; the brothers he fucking swore to protect when shit got real. “He blackmailed me.”
“Not a good enough excuse, DeAngelo. I don’t give a fuck what he had on you, you should never do what you’ve done. How do you think Hope is feeling right now? She’s been in their clutches once, she’s lucky to even be alive. Come on, mate, you know what Lynx is like and you know full fucking well that he won’t hesitate to fucking put a bullet in her!” My breathing is harsh, my chest heaving with anger and my face is on fire, the heat burning my eyes has me closing them briefly.
“Mack, you don’t understand…” Pike says, hands in the air in surrender. Too late for that bullshit.
“No, you don’t understand!” My voice booms across the room, my fist coming down on the table top making a loud bang. “You were here when the last rat was exposed. You didn’t think twice about the consequences of your actions. You go against me, you against the fucking club.”
“He was going to kill my baby sister!” he shouts, collapsing into the chair he was previously going to sit on. “I had to protect her! She’s only five, she’s defenceless, Mack. What the hell was I supposed to do?”
“You could have come to me for help. But no, you didn’t, and look where it’s got you. Your little sister is the least of your worries now, DeAngelo.” I take some calming breaths to get my pulse under control before I have a fucking coronary. “You know what to do. Your cut in the middle of the table.”
Pike hangs his head to his chest, his shoulders heaving as his tears fall and landing with a splash on the table. Weak man. Under all his stupid bravado is just a pussy who doesn’t understand loyalty. He removes his cut slowly and places it in the middle of the table, his hand lingering on the Crusaders patch that was once on his back.
I nod to Ranger and Grizz and they haul his ass out of Church. I know where they’re going. The basement is where pieces of shit go, where their lives end messily. And Pike is mine.
“Brothers, thank you for your cooperation through all of this, I really appreciate your loyalty and support. Go grab yourselves a drink and have one for me.” I bang the gavel and jump to my feet. Its unusual that I leave church before everyone else, but my adrenaline is racing through my blood and I need my revenge like I need air to breathe.
The thing about the basement is that there’s a drain in the middle of the floor, I’m sure I don’t need to explain why, and the whole room is sound proofed; and for good reason.
Pike is already tied to the chair in the middle of the concrete floor, a forlorn look attached to his face. His eyes plead with me as I enter but that just makes me all the more fucking angry. All I can see is Hope, her distress and anguish over everything she’s been through and it hits me in the chest that she could have been killed because of this cunt.
Blood boiling, head pounding, I approach Pike with slow, precise steps and I notice him quivering. “Scared, Pike?” I get no answer and I chuckle. “This is exactly how Hope felt, and feels, knowing there is someone out there wanting her dead and being helped by one of my brothers probably doesn’t make her feel very safe right now.” I take my gun that was packed snugly in the back of jeans. “Lucky for her, she has the protection of the club whereas you, DeAngelo, have no one on your side. Brothers don’t take kindly to disrespectful wankers.”
“But… my sister. She’s going to be in danger!” Pike screams out into the room. “She’s a fucking kid! Do you want her death on your shoulders, Mack? Cause you will if you shoot me right now.”
“And what’s the alternative? My club gets attacked and Hope gets killed along with your own brothers?” Tears stream down his face and his body sags into the wooden chair. He knows there’s no getting out of it and that thought is solidified as I notice a wet patch forming on his jeans. “That’s right, you know you’re not getting out of this. Rules are fucking rules and you could have just ruined this fucking club. Did you not think that in getting to us means he could have killed you too? Who would look out for your sister then? Catch twenty-two, DeAngelo.” I pace in front of him, tapping the gun against my thigh. “If we get out of this shit alive, we’ll protect your sister. But there’s no hope for you.”
“Mack…” He doesn’t get to say more as the explosion from the end of gun echoes around the room. The chair, including Pike, goes backwards and lands with a thud on the floor. Pike’s head has been obliterated and his brain matter and skull pieces have redecorated the back wall.
I spit on the remains of what was once a brother before tucking my gun into the back of jeans and turning to head to the exit. “Get a couple of prospects down here to clear up. Ranger, I want you to supervise the entire time. Grizz, go update everyone. Thanks for your support, guys.”
I practically jog up the stairs and through the door, and I can feel every single brother’s eyes on me as I hurry through the main room, heading straight to the library; to Hope.
Hope
I haven’t been able to find a book that keeps me focused. All I can think about is Mack and wh
at the hell is happening. I may not know him well, but I know enough that I’m insanely attracted to him. Whether it’s his rugged looks with his permanent five-o’clock shadow gracing his jaw, his intense eyes, his bow shaped lips or just the way he seems to wear his heart on his sleeve around me or all of the above, I just know that I feel something towards this man. And I’m not forgetting the panty-melting kiss he bestowed on me back in the bedroom this morning – that was definitely swoon worthy. I can’t deny to myself any more about how I feel. Is it possible to be so in lust with a person after such a short time? I wouldn’t know. It took me months to warm to Toby and we never even had that spark, the spark I have with Mack. One thing; I’m still petrified of sex and Mack doesn’t seem like the kind to hold back long.
A loud rapping on the door has me stub my toe on the table next the recliner and I curse into the suddenly silent room. I limp my way to the door, cringing with each step. Fucking motherfucker that hurts.
Swinging open the door, I come face to face with a flushed Mack, his breathing choppy as his eyes devour me, making my face heat. Minutes pass as we stand there staring at other, and I’m holding my breath, my heart is racing and I can feel the rapid beat of my pulse between my legs. I swallow, starting to feel a little uncomfortable under his scrutiny.
“Hope…” His voice is barely a whisper, but it punches through my ears like he screamed my name. “You’re okay.”
