She rubbed her red eyes. “I don’t know.”
The look on my daughter’s face broke my heart and melted away what was left of the Hyde in me.
“Here, baby, I got something for you.” I pulled a packet of blue Fun Dip out of the inside pocket of my cut, which was thrown over the back of the couch.
She gripped it in her tiny fingers, beaming up at me. “Can I save it for my lunch tomorrow?”
“That’s a great idea, sweetheart. Let’s get you to bed.” I breathed in the sweet smell of her strawberry shampoo before kissing the top of her head.
I carried her into her pink and purple room, which was only a few steps from the front door. Laying her down, I reached to the nightstand for her favorite book and announced, “Story time!” Her eyes lit up as she grabbed the worn copy of Cinderella from my hands.
“Once upon a time,” I began as Crickett’s head nestled into the crook of my shoulder. Rage that Helen was nowhere to be found boiled inside me as I read the same pages I had over and over for months. “Daddy loves you,” I whispered into my little girl’s ear as she slowly fell asleep in my arms. After reading Cinderella for the second time, Crickett was finally down for the count.
Slowly, I shifted her weight off of my arm, making my way to the back bedroom to get dressed. I hated the idea of leaving Crickett alone once more, but I needed to find Helen—again. It was turning into a nightly endeavor that I was not keen on dealing with for much longer.
Just as I was lacing up my boots, I heard keys dropping onto the metal front steps.
“Shit,” Helen called out drunkenly before she turned the lock and tumbled through the door.
“Where the fuck have you been?” I growled, flying to grab her before she twisted an ankle in her hooker heels.
“None of your goddamn business, you piece of shit,” she yelled, spitting in my face.
I sucked in a deep breath. I wasn’t a woman beater, but that bitch made me second-guess my restraint far too often. She’s the mother of your child. I kept repeating as she tested my patience.
“It is every bit of my fucking business when my ol’ lady comes home at the ass crack of dawn smelling like the back of a bar and some other dude’s dick.” I grabbed her arm and marched to our bedroom, throwing her onto the bed.
“You’re a fucking asshole. Don’t fucking touch me!” she screeched, bouncing on the shabby mattress.
Shutting the door, I tried to calm my anger but it was futile.
Through gritted teeth, I calmly said, “Our daughter was sobbing when I got home. How long was she alone?”
“She wouldn’t have been alone if you weren’t off doing God knows what all damn night.” She lit a cigarette, blowing smoke in my face. “Probably balls deep in some bitch’s cunt from the look of you.”
“So help me, Helen—this shit needs to stop.” I ran my hand over my short beard completely ignoring her ignorant jab.
Her eyes were slits as her head bobbed to the side a bit, the cig swaying between her bright red lips as she mumbled, “Should have made an honest woman outta me when ya had the chance. You aren’t the boss of me.”
“Honest woman?” I chuckled before slamming my fist into the wall next to me. “There’s nothing honest about a slut who will snort a line off the dick of any fucker who will let her.”
She lunged for the dresser, sending her hair dryer cascading across the tiny bedroom.
Slam!
The sound echoed through the trailer and I saw red. Grabbing her arm, I pulled her squirming body into my chest, putting my hand over her mouth as she started to scream.
“Do not wake up our daughter,” I hissed into her ear, seething. “She’s been through enough tonight.”
“She’s my daughter, fucker. Who knows who the fuck her real daddy is.” Those words cut deep, and she fucking knew it.
“Fuck this.” I shoved my keys into the inside pocket of my cut, starting to make my way to Crickett’s room.
“Why don’t you just leave then, you fucking scumbag?” she called after me as she tried to shuffle in her stilettos.
“Don’t you tempt me Helen, I swear to fucking God.” I was doing my best to keep my voice down, but I knew it was probably too late. Night after night, our fights inevitably woke our kid up. I fucking hated it. It was time to give my little girl a better life.
“If you want to leave so badly, then just do me a damn favor and get the hell out, you rat bastard.”
I slowly turned the knob, trying to sneak into Crickett’s room as Helen jumped on my back like a damn spider monkey.
“Helen, get the hell off me,” I bellowed, trying to unwrap her legs from around my waist. “Enough is enough.”
“You damn asshole, you’re not taking her with you!”
Slap!
Slap!
Slap!
Her fists crashed into my ears as I slammed her hard into the wall. She thudded to the floor and I turned to see her spread eagle at my feet.
“You’re not going to raise my daughter, you fucking, no-good whore. I’ll leave her here over my dead body!”
Helen started sobbing, grabbing her back as she scrambled to her feet. Wobbling, she shoved past me, rushing into the kitchen.
“Yes, hello?” Her shrill voice turned innocent as she sniffled into the phone. “My boyfriend is trying to kidnap my daughter. Please send someone fast.”
“You damn—you goddamned cunt! She’s my daughter too.”
“Fuck you, Rave! If you wanted her to be your daughter so badly, you should have signed the damn birth certificate!”
I threw my hands in the air as her face twisted into a devilish sneer. She knew she had me. There was still blood on my bike, and looking down, I could see the crimson that stained the squares on my chest. The cops would be able to stick me with more than just kidnapping my own kid if I stayed, and Helen knew it.
“This isn’t over.” I pointed at her as I backed away toward the front door. Helen one, Rave zero. I trudged down the front steps, digging the pack of Marlboro Reds out of my pocket.
“That good-for-nothing piece of shit!” Red slammed his fist down on the oak table as I paced in front of him.
“I don’t know what to do anymore.” I was defeated. It had been five years too long of fighting with a woman I didn’t give a rat’s ass about. It was over, but how could it be? Crickett was still in that damn house. My sweet, little, innocent baby girl. How could I have let it get this far? She didn’t deserve such a shit life.
Hawk threw the door to the chapter room open, dark circles under his eyes. “What the hell happened?”
“Pres…fuck.” I punched the wall, caving in the drywall.
“Helen’s a good-for-nothing piece of shit!” Red repeated as our president took his normal seat at the head of the table.
“I think the cops are after me this time.” I sank down to the floor, feeling overwhelmed and defeated.
“Well shit. That damn cunt.” He ran his hand over his tired face. “Are you sure?”
I bowed my head.
“Call a meeting. We need a full table for this,” Hawk ordered.
Without another word, Red walked out of the room to make the calls.
“We have a charter interested in a patch over, and I’m going to send you and Red to handle it. Lay low for a while, get outta town while the heat cools down and we figure out what to do.” His voice was low as he told me my next mission.
“But my kid.” I sucked hard on the cowboy killer pinched between my fingers.
“We’ll keep an eye on her, and we’ll keep that bitch in check, too. You ain’t going to be good to any of us from behind bars, especially that little girl of yours.”
Chapter 2
After a twelve-hour ride, I finally saw a light at the end of the tunnel: Vilas – 5 miles.
I signaled to Red and we both pulled off to the shoulder of the highway.
“You good, brother?” he asked, throwing out his kickstand and getting off his bi
ke.
I spit out the worn chew from the back of my mouth. “Yeah, just want to take a second. Are we sure we’re going into friendly territory?”
Red chuckled. “A little late for that question, don’t ya think?” He pointed to our exit off in the distance.
I stared down at the enforcer patch on my chest. I wasn’t cut out for the diplomatic side of this job. I was good for one thing in my club: killing. I ran my fingers over the end of the ax strapped to my back—I had bloodlust that needed to be satiated.
“I can see that look in your eye, man. You need to get a handle on yourself before we get in there.”
Red was right. Even though he was a young buck, having only been patched for a little over a year, he had quickly turned into the even keel of our organization, keeping most of our crazy asses in check more times than not.
“This blade’s never craved a woman’s blood before.” It was a hard thing to admit, but all I wanted was to see Helen’s skull split wide open on the cutting edge.
“Burry that rage, but keep it close—you might need it.” Red leaned up against his bike, throwing another plug deep into his jaw.
“Do we even know anything about these guys?” I asked, taking the bag of chew from him.
He spit at our feet, nearly hitting the tip of my steel toe. “They’ve helped out the Sweetwater charter when they’ve been in a pinch. The pres seems decent from what Hawk said.”
Red wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t already know, but hearing it again helped.
“Let’s get this over with so we can get our asses back to Arkansas.”
Red turned the key of his bike and she rumbled beneath him. “Come on, Bessy, only a few more miles.”
Throwing my leg over my Chief, I couldn’t help but laugh. “I still cannot believe you named your bike Bessy.”
Red shrugged. “My old man named her, and it stuck.”
We rode into the gravel lot in front of the Outlaws Bar and Pool Hall, pulling up to the end of the long row of bikes.
“Guess they’re all here,” Red said over his shoulder as he led the way into the dive.
I kept my hand firmly gripped on the wooden handle of my weapon as I followed.
“You ain’t gonna make any friends lookin’ ready to wield a fucking two-headed ax around the joint within seconds of entering.” Red’s hand was on the tarnished metal door handle as he glared at me.
“Yeah, you’re right.” I relaxed my shoulders before nodding.
The entire bar went silent, all eyes locking on us as we waded through the thick smoke.
“Y’all must be Hawk’s boys.” A leathery old-timer coughed as he turned slowly on his barstool.
“Rave and Red, as promised.” Instinctively, my hand went to the Beretta 92 on my hip as the hair on the back of my neck stood on end. The air was thick. I could tell most of the guys in the room weren’t too keen on the patch over.
Fear none. Respect few. My club’s mantra played over and over in my mind as I shook hands with the old man.
“We’re looking for Odin,” Red stated before ordering us a couple of beers from the wench behind the bar whose shirt was three sizes too small.
“You found him.” A burly motherfucker strode over to us as he glanced at all his men hanging around. “Why don’t we take these drinks into the back so we can have a little chat.”
A few of the men got up, making their way through a back door that said Restricted on it. We followed Odin into a large back room with a round table in the middle of it.
“This is Tyson, Brick, Dhonal, and Trig.” Each man raised a hand as Odin called off his name.
I pointed at each of us respectively. “Rave, Red.”
“Take a seat, boys.” Dhonal’s Irish accent prickled the hair on my arms. Sizing up the tattoo on his forearm, it clicked: he was IRA, or at least had been. I glanced over but Red was oblivious as he slouched into the rolling chair.
“As you could probably tell, some of my guys think this move isn’t the right one for our club, but our numbers are small and the backing of the Unacceptables is needed.” Odin’s eyes were locked with Dhonal’s.
“Aye, brother.” Dhonal struck the table with the palm of his hand as the smallest smirk played on his lips.
“My VP has made friends with some of your boys from Sweetwater, and we thought they’d be the ones making this transition,” Odin explained.
I pointed to the patch on my chest that read Original Twelve. “Rules are rules. One of us has to be present for a patch over. None of the guys up in Tennessee have the authority.”
Red chimed in, “We can get some of them down here to smooth things over, show of good faith.”
Tyson sucked in through his teeth. “No need to prolong this process any more than necessary.”
“Fair enough.” I chugged down most of my long neck. “Ready for church?”
Odin slammed the gavel onto the weathered wood. “It’s time for church.”
Brick opened the door and whistled. Within seconds the room was filled with Outlaws, each with a reaper covering his back.
Red and I shoved away from the table, standing off to the side of the room while Odin addressed his men. “There’s been a lot of talk about a patch over recently, mainly when the Sinners started getting closer. We’re going to need backup to keep those bastards in their place.”
A few of the men grumbled.
“Rave and Red are from the Arkansas charter of the Unacceptables, and they’re here not to strip the reaper from our backs but to turn our club into a stronger force. Remember that as you cast your vote today.”
They went around the room, casting a majority vote in favor of the patch over. A few men ripped their cuts off, throwing them to the ground.
“Anyone not in favor of wearing the skull and bones is free to leave, unprotected. Don’t forget, you will be bled out,” Odin warned as he glared at the few mutineers wading in a sea of sharks. In that moment, it was clear that Odin’s men more feared him than respected him.
In the end, every man in that room switched out their reaper for a skull and bones. It was a small victory, but not the one I needed.
Chapter 3
Months later
Fuck girl, open that damn throat.” I shoved my cock farther down the young ginger’s mouth as she choked and spit.
On her knees behind the clubhouse, she did her best to go balls deep, but she just wasn’t cutting it. I didn’t even know her name—didn’t fucking care to ask. She was just another dime-a-dozen broad who wanted to lick cum off the tip of an outlaw’s hard-on in hopes of becoming someone’s old lady. She was barking up the wrong tree with this one. Been there. Done that. Ain’t making that mistake twice.
I pulled the switchblade from my back pocket, cutting a slit in her tight yellow tank top. Her tits flopped out as I ripped the ribbed fabric open. I watched as she winced and slammed her eyes shut, fighting the urge to spit me out.
“That’s a good little slut,” I growled, grabbing her ponytail with the open knife still clutched in my grasp.
As her eyeliner and mascara streamed down her face, my dick pulsed, the head slamming into the back of her throat harder and harder with every trust—I liked when I scared them a bit. She sighed with relief as my knife closed and went back into its pocket. Pulling out of her slobbering hole, I leaned against the cool brick wall. Stroking my cock, I groaned as hot cum peppered her makeup-covered cheeks and Cupid’s bow. She stayed knelt down, back arched, mouth open, tongue out—she had been trained well.
I tucked my pecker back into my jeans before untying the red bandana from around my neck then tossing it onto her face. I helped her to her feet as she tried to kiss me. Ain’t gonna happen. I turned away from her as her cum-covered lips landed sloppily on my cheek. Gross.
“Go get yourself cleaned up. I’m sure there’s another boner ready and waiting for you inside.” I smacked her ass, which was spilling out from the bottom of her cutoffs. Opening the back door, I practi
cally shoved the ginger into the clubhouse to scour for another patched member to try her luck with.
I glanced down at my watch and muttered, “Fuck, I’m gonna late,” as I trotted over to my bike.
Walking into the pool hall, I was surprised to see a few of the Arkansas guys scattered around with beers, playing six-pocket. Hawk sat with Odin at the end of the bar, waiting for me.
“It’s good to see you, brother.” He stood and walked toward me as I made my way into the newly named Unacceptables Bar.
After greeting my brothers quickly, I locked eyes with my president.
“Any word?” I asked, glancing over my true leader’s shoulder to see Odin eyeing us over the mouth of his longneck.
“Ain’t gonna sugar coat it. Things aren’t looking good.” He shot down the three fingers of whiskey in his glass. Hawk motioned to the bar and we took our seats next to Odin.
I held my hand up to Sherry, and she filled Hawk’s glass before pouring me my own.
“Thanks, doll.” I gave our resident queen, Odin’s old lady, a kind smile as my heart sank to the bottom of the amber liquid clutched in my hand.
“There’s nothing I can do?” I asked, barely able to keep my voice level.
Hawk put his hand on my shoulder. “The lawyers are still cutting through red tape and looking for loopholes, but Helen has dug her heels in deep with this one. She’s claiming she doesn’t know who Crickett’s real father is.”
“That fucking cunt.” I scowled as my dirty laundry was aired.
The child had my nose, eyes, feet, hands—she even had my fucking laugh. There was no question who Crickett’s old man really was.
Hawk pulled a few polaroids from the inside pocket of his worn leather, handing them to me. They were shots of Crickett playing in the park from yards away, and even though she was smiling, I could see the sadness in her eyes; she needed me.
“You came all the way up here for this fucking shit news and some damn photos?” I threw the empty glass across the bar, and it shattered into a thousand pieces as I let out a deep, loud snarl.
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