“Clubhouse,” Griffin said.
“Talking tonight?”
“No. I need a drink.”
“I need a woman,” Nate said. “Bad.”
“Good for you, Nate.”
They rode back to the clubhouse, Griffin in the lead. Speeding through town as a way to burn off rage and fear. Because they were a mixed up, fucked up combo to live with.
When they got back to the clubhouse, Griffin went in and went for the bar. Nate followed and watched as Griffin demanded a bottle. Not a shot, but a bottle.
I know the feeling, brother.
The prospect behind the bar took the chance of questioning Griffin. While Griffin may have been a little thicker than the rest of the guys, he was tough as nails. One right fist sent the damn prospect flying back, hitting the wall. Griffin then took out his gun and pointed it at the young guy.
“Get me the fucking bottle.”
The prospect muttered a yes, sir with a swollen, bloody nose and wide eyes.
“Hey, what’s up with him?”
Nate turned and saw Blaine standing, leaning into a pool stick.
“Bad night,” Nate said. “Truth hurts.”
“Truth? Pfff… you want the truth?” Blaine leaned closer, wobbling from being drunk. “My cock is stiff as fuck. I’ve came three times so far and it’s still hard. What the fuck…”
“What the fuck is right,” Nate said. “I don’t need to know a thing about your dick. Can you maybe point to someone you haven’t come on or inside tonight?”
Blaine laughed. “About time you get that pencil of yours wet.”
“Pencil?” Nate asked. “Are you kidding me?”
“Whip it out,” Blaine said, looking too eager to see another guy’s dick. “Right now.” Blaine dropped the pool stick. He leaned against a pool table and unzipped his jeans.
As he stuck his hand into his own jeans, Nate walked away, shaking his head.
“Scared?” Blaine called out.
Nate lifted the middle finger and kept walking. He took notice of a woman sitting on the edge of one of the pool tables, legs crossed, Back Down Devil shirt on her, extra tight. She looked at him and that sealed the deal as far as Nate was concerned.
There was only one question to ask.
“Blaine come near you tonight?” he asked.
“Hello to you too.”
“You know why you’re here. So answer my question.”
She inched from the pool table and put her legs around Nate and pulled. “No. He’s been sniffing me all night. I’ve been fucking with him though.”
“Oh yeah, why?”
“Because I’ve been waiting for you, Nate,” she said with a sly grin. She touched his cheek and then ran her pointer finger across his bottom lip.
“You know me?”
“I know everything I need to know for tonight.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
She got closer and nibbled on his ear. “I’m your gift… from Miller. You have until sunrise to do whatever the hell you want. Nothing… Nate, listen to this carefully… nothing is off limits.”
The woman then leaned back and looked at her blood red fingernails.
She was cocky. She was beautiful.
She was paid to be there.
Nate smiled. He looked to the bar and caught eyes with Miller. Miller gave a quick nod and lifted a shot glass.
Cheers.
Nate slipped an arm around the woman’s back and kissed her neck. He trailed up to her mouth and kept less than an inch from her. “Sweetheart, I don’t know who you are. I don’t really give a shit either. But tomorrow, I can promise you one thing. You won’t be able to walk out of here.”
“Good,” she purred back. “I hate doing the walk of shame. Even with money in my pocket.”
Before Nate could think of anything else to say, she kissed him.
It wasn’t good, but it wasn’t bad.
At least it would take everything away… if only for one night.
three.
Mia knew the drill. When the call came, there was work. With work came money, and who the hell didn’t want more money? She never intended her life to revolve around such greed. Hell, there were times when she wondered why she didn’t just sleep with him. Then she could ransom his life, his career, for a big paycheck and then just disappear.
After all, he wasn’t actually her uncle. He was her stepuncle. Yeah, it was a little nasty to think about, but Mia’s life was nasty. From her shit apartment and roommate that never cleaned - or paid rent - to the past that made the stepping stones for the present ,that had her standing at her uncle’s backdoor.
She wasn’t allowed to use the front door because the neighborhood was too prestigious to have someone like Mia there. That meant she had to park down the street and do her best to sneak around. This was the plan. This was how it always went.
Once properly welcomed and checked to make sure she wasn’t high or anything, then her uncle would let her park the car in the driveway. Well, as long as the car wasn’t a total piece of shit. Her uncle told her there was a settling image about him helping his niece. You know, since she was going to law school and whatnot.
Law school.
Mia knew plenty about the law, but it was not the kind most wanted to know.
She stood in jeans with holes in the knees. A t-shirt with a low cut neck. She was tired from a crappy night of sleep thanks to a long shift at the strip club.
Mia didn’t take her clothes off, well, most of them. She worked behind the bar, making some money, but nothing like the women who were on stage. Her boss told her straight up to put a new set of tits on a credit card and then come talk to him. She told her boss to fuck himself. Then cracked her across the face.
That was all water under the bridge. Well over two years ago.
The comment and thought still lingered with Mia though.
She knocked on the back door and thought about it.
Maybe her uncle would pay for her tits.
If she could really do it… she could make some serious money. Save it up. Get a new place. Find somewhere to move and find peace. Instead of this mixed up life.
Sighing, Mia stretched her neck and groaned.
“Come on,” she whispered.
She really had to pee.
When she opened the bathroom door this morning, her roommate had fallen asleep with her head resting on the toilet. A night of puking, some guy in the bathroom, naked, was the usual for her roommate.
On top of the usual morning pee, Mia held a cup of coffee in her hand. It was mostly empty and had gone straight to her bladder. And since she was still so tired, it made her wonder if the caffeine didn’t just bypass her system at all.
Another minute passed and Mia lifted her hand again. If the gaslight on her car hadn’t been on for the better part of the ride here she would have left. But honestly, she needed money. At least twenty bucks to get ten for gas and then a crappy lunch.
The door opened and Mia looked down.
“Jakey,” she said. “What up, cousin?”
Jake looked up at her. His left eye had a yellow-purple ring around it from a bruise.
Mia dropped down and grabbed Jake by the shoulders. “Hey, what happened to you?”
“Mia?” Jake asked. “What are you doing here?”
“Your father needs me for something.”
“One of his dinners?”
“Yeah, exactly.”
It hurt Mia to lie to her ten year old stepcousin. Lies were okay though. Everyone told them and most people lived in them.
“I’ve missed you,” Jake said. “I wish you could just live here.”
“You only say that because you saw me in the bathroom that one time…”
Mia smiled and Jake’s cheeks burned red. “Ew. Gross.”
Mia ruffled Jake’s hair. “Tell me about your eye.”
“Bullies,” he whispered.
“They’re everywhere,” a third voice sai
d.
Mia stood and stared at her uncle.
“Uncle Jake,” she said.
Her uncle was a judge. A crooked judge at that. He took bribes, called favors for murders, and arranged illegal underground gambling rings. And that was just the tip of the iceberg her uncle sat upon.
He was tall, thick, wore glasses, and had the dark, stoney eyes of a killer. His jaw was defined and his lip always seemed to be curled.
When he put a hand to Jake’s left shoulder, the young man flinched a little. It made Mia wonder exactly how Jake got the black eye. It was a long time ago that Uncle Jake’s wife - Aunt Theresa - left. Uncle Jake made it clear that his ex-wife was a dirty whore who preferred a dick in her ass than to be a good mother and wife. Something told Mia it was all a lie. Not to mention nobody ever heard from Aunt Theresa again.
There wasn’t much family anymore; everyone scattered, hating each other, or dead. The newest form of the true American family.
Hell, Mia hated Uncle Jake. But when he called, there was money to be made.
“Jake, disappear,” Uncle Jake said.
“Okay, sir,” Jake whispered.
“Hey, Jake. Do me a favor?” Mia asked.
“What?”
“Grab my bag?”
“Sure,” Jake said. “How long are you staying, Mia?”
“As long as I need her,” Uncle Jake bellowed. “Enough talk, Jacob.”
Jacob?
Mia watched her younger step cousin stiffen. He took her bag and disappeared up the stairs in the kitchen.
“Hello,” Mia said.
“Are you high?”
“I don’t do drugs.”
“Can I search you?”
“Have at it.”
Uncle Jake didn’t move. “I just want to remind you how connected I am. With one phone call you can be gone forever. And nobody would know or care.”
“Like Aunt Theresa?”
Mia regretted saying it. She regretted it even more when the back of Uncle Jake’s hand connected with her mouth. She spun right the hell around, facing the backyard of the house. There were black and white stars and spots flashing for a few seconds, followed by a hand clamping on her shoulder.
“I’m not some asshole pimp at a stripclub,” Uncle Jake said. “Let’s get that straight.”
Mia flexed her jaw. “Okay. I’m sorry.”
“Good. How much money do you need right now?”
“Gaslight’s on in my car.”
“That it?”
“That’s never it,” Mia said. “What do you need from me?”
“Want some coffee?”
“I have to pee first.”
Uncle Jake spun her back around. He touched the red mark on her jaw and then smiled. “You know where the bathroom is. Clean yourself up. I’ll send Jake to a friend’s house.”
Mia walked through the big and bright kitchen to the bathroom. Everything was black, white, steel, all designed that way by her uncle to show his commanding style. Sure, everyone on the street knew he was a hard ass and powerful judge. They probably all respected him. Then again, for all Mia knew, half of them probably attended the illegal dealings of her uncle. She used to wonder how he got away with this kind of stuff, but when police, detectives, and other high profile people started showing up, it made sense. Even the most powerful men enjoyed having their own underground world.
The one thing Uncle Jake did for her though was make sure she was never propositioned by anyone. And if she was approached, he was there to take care of it. Mia told herself it was maybe a small sign of love. She knew better. Uncle Jake didn’t want her running away with someone else. Or breaking up someone’s marriage and causing a chain of events that would ruin all he had worked for.
In the bathroom, she took a satisfying pee, washed her hands, and looked at her face. She’d been hit worse. The mark would go away in no time. Not that it mattered or anyone would give a damn. Hell, her last boyfriend - some guy who was just a blip on the radar of life - would ask her what she did wrong to deserve it.
Fucking asshole.
They were all assholes, men. Every single one. Even the good ones, too.
How many times Mia saw husbands and fathers come into the strip club, hating their lives. Pissed that their wives weren’t the women on stage. Try giving birth, asshole.
Mia took a breath and exited the bathroom.
She met Uncle Jake at the breakfast nook in the kitchen, where a black metal bistro table sat with two chairs. The newspaper was folded, placed under a small basket of fruit.
“Sit,” he ordered and brought over two mugs of coffee on a tray along with cream and sugar.
“Can I ask about Jake before we get into anything?” Mia asked.
“What about?”
“He seems…”
“He’s a boy trying to live in a world run by men. There’s been situations because of my actions. Tough lessons to learn but he’ll manage.”
“What does that mean?”
Uncle Jake smiled. “The little shit stabbed some of the assholes who were fucking with him. That’s why he’s been home with me. School thought it was best to remove him for now. I have a tutor come over and take care of him. It was a mess for a little while. But I defended him. He’s my child, right?”
“Stabbed…”
“Yes. Give advice by the lowest of scum in Frelen. You ever heard of Back Down Devil?”
“The motorcycle club?”
“Yes.”
Mia nodded. She’d heard of them. Who hasn’t heard of them? Their reputation was notorious and they were rumored to have charters up and down the west coast. From San Diego to Portland. Maybe even up into Canada and across to Alaska. And even crews that pushed east into Nevada and up into Montana.
They were bold, reckless, and powerful.
Mia had dealt with them in the strip club a few times. When they showed up, they controlled the place, the night, the women, everything.
“I’ve had problems with them,” Uncle Jake said.
“Okay,” Mia whispered. “Does it involve Jake? What he did?”
“What Jake learned was a powerful lesson in life,” Uncle Jake said. “That’s nobody’s concern but my own. Some boys were picking on him and he found the urge to fight back, with a knife. The urge to fight is human instinct. A basic need for survival. But to stab… and attack… that’s primal. Maybe I should be proud of him. Maybe I should punish him in a way he never thought possible. I have his entire life to enjoy the idea of it.”
The way Uncle Jake said his entire life made Mia shiver. It implied that Uncle Jake expected to outlive his young son, which didn’t seem likely. Unless Uncle Jake had a plan in place for something else.
“How’s the coffee?” he asked.
Mia took another sip. “Very good. Thank you.”
Uncle Jake reached for the newspaper and opened it. He turned it around and pointed to the date.
“It’s old,” Mia whispered. “Like… very old.”
“Sure. It was news then. To me, it still is.” His thick finger ran down to an article. “See this?”
Mr. Strokner was found dead of an apparent gunshot wound to the head. Preliminary findings show that he had what’s being called a ‘secret hideout’ where he would conduct ‘business.’ The nature of the ‘business’ has not been released but it’s safe to speculate that, perhaps, the wealthy businessman had dark ties within the Frelen community.
“What does that all mean?” Mia asked.
“That’s why you’re here,” Uncle Jake said. “See, we’re trying to take care of the town. You can read all you want about economic recession and recovery and all the political bullshit in between…”
“Excuse me, sir?”
Jake stood in the doorway to the kitchen, a backpack strapped to his skinny shoulders.
“Jake,” Uncle Jake said. “You may speak.”
“I’m asking for permission to go to Andy’s house. His mother is making peanut butter and jell
y sandwiches for lunch.”
“I love PB n’ J’s,” Mia said. “Bring me one back.”
“Excuse me,” Uncle Jake said. “Let me address my son.”
Mia stiffened. She kept her eyes on Jake, smiling, hoping he would feel relaxed at some point. Probably not until he left the house though. She felt bad for Jake, but then again, she felt bad for herself. The world could be a cruel and crazy mess.
All you could do was find a way to survive.
“Jake, you may go,” Uncle Jake said. “Don’t make me come find out. Punishment, son, understand?”
“Yes, sir. Thank you.”
Jake turned and left the house.
Mia looked at Uncle Jake. “He doesn’t call you Dad?”
“He’s not my friend,” Uncle Jake said. “Neither are you.”
Mia nodded. She reminded herself to keep calm. Focus on what Uncle Jake needed and make sure it was done right.
“Back to business,” Uncle Jake said.
“Of course. That’s why I’m here.”
“You’re broke.”
“I’m always broke.”
“You still work at the strip club?”
“Yes.”
“You strip?”
“Never.”
“You’d probably make a good paycheck doing it,” Uncle Jake said.
His eyes creepily moved down and up Mia’s body.
She stirred in her seat, feeling very uncomfortable.
“What do you need from me?” Mia asked.
Uncle Jake leaned back and took out a wad of cash. He unfolded it and spread it across the table.
“This should fill your gas tank. A few times, right?”
There had to be a thousand dollars there, if not more. Mia nodded. “Yeah.”
“Good,” Uncle Jake said. “Go fill your tank. You’re on the hunt, starting now.”
“The hunt? For what?”
Uncle Jake folded his hands. “I’m going to take down Back Down Devil. I have resources you wouldn’t believe. And your job is to follow them. Find out what they know about me and my friends. So I can make my next move.”
Mia looked at the cash, then looked at Uncle Jake.
Follow Back Down Devil MC?
This wasn’t a job… it was a death wish.
four.
Outside in the sun, they stood there trying to chase away the hangovers. Blaine laid on a table, one leg up, sunglasses on his face, rubbing his forehead. His other hand was off the table, limp.
STEEL TEMPTATION (A Back Down Devil MC Romance Novel) Page 2
