Know Your Place (Knights Disciples Motorcycle Club Book 2)

by Sophia Hampton

  “I will have you,” he leaned in and kissed her briefly. “Mmm, mine all mine. You know they have this wine cellar. I know I could slip the waiter a small tip and take you down for a tour.”

  Laura’s eyes were suddenly heavy; she was flooded with the drug of attraction to him. “I would like that very much. I want to forever be finding places where I can be with you. That’s how much I want you.”

  “I don’t want to be a buzz kill,” he said, taking her hands into his. “You know Lucas is on his way back to Baltimore with some of the members of the club.”

  Some tears surged behind her eyes. “I know,” she said. “And I want him safe, but I feel like I am disconnected from him. He doesn’t feel like the little brother I knew.”

  Will laughed. “He’s hardly your little anything. That kid must have grown five or six inches since I’ve met him and packed on forty pounds of muscle. If he means what he is saying, he will turn around. It takes time to build a relationship back up when trust is lost.” He took her hands to his lips and kissed them lightly.

  “Do you think there is a chance he will?” she asked, optimism in her heart.

  His face was strained when he answered. She could see he wanted to say the nice thing and not what he felt. “There’s a chance. I’ve been wrong before.”

  “You told me that I should tell it like it is and not make you guess. I want you to do that for me now,” she asked.

  “Laura, I don’t think so. I’ve been wrong before. I could be wrong now. That’s a big kid. I don’t have much experience with successful rehabilitation. But I welcome the chance to be wrong in this case.”

  Laura agreed with him and she felt awful for it. She felt like she had lost her brother just like she had lost her mother and father. “So weird. I had a family once,” she began.

  He took her hand. “So did I, darlin’, so did I.”

  “What happened to your wife, Will?” she asked.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  He released a heavy sigh. “She died because of a mistake. Someone did the math wrong. She went into have some scar tissue removed from her fallopian tube so we could have a baby.” His face had a smile but it was a mystified, almost crazed look. “And whoever calculated the anesthesia just plain screwed up. He killed her. So in the morning I had a wife with the hopes of a new family and that afternoon, I was alone in the world. If it weren’t for my guys, I would have gone insane.”

  “How long has it been?” she asked, a little timid that she might be pushing a little too much.

  “It’s been three years,” he said.

  “It’s been about eight years for my mother and father. No, nine years. Lucas was little and now he is almost a legal adult.”

  He changed the subject, lifting the menu and started to talk food. He made some recommendation and right as rain, the waiter appeared. Laura had no appetite because of the downturn the conversation took but by the time the food arrived, he had her in a pretty good mood. It was very fun to have him coax her to eat, waiting as he fed her little bites until she was enticed to eat. They finished with a shared crème brûlée and a little brandy. When they rose from the table, Laura was a little tipsy but wonderfully so.

  Will seemed to be in full control of his faculties. “Did I tell you this place used to be a grand home? It got its name,” he began as he guided her to what looked like a door that led to a lower floor. He casually palmed something as he shook hand with the waiter who looked the other way as Laura and Will went through the door down an ominous staircase. “From a dog,” he finished.

  “Have you gotten me all liquored up to take advantage of me?” she teased. But as they found their way to bottom of the staircase, they were walking into pitch-blackness, though there were lights that lit the stairs. It sounded like waves were breaking in the basement. She turned to him with fright. “I can hear the ocean!”

  “Shhh,” he said. “I’ve got you.” With a steady gait, he lifted her to his arms. “Okay when you feel a string brush your face, tell me. I want you to reach up and pull it.” She did and the lights came on. She wiggled as though she wanted to be let down. He stopped. “I didn’t say you could go,” he winked. In the corner of the cellar, for it was a wine cellar, though there were shelves stocked with kitchen things and some home canning, was a generously based, bentwood rocker. Once she saw the chair she knew that Will had an idea that would result in their having sex. “See that chair,” he asked her.

  “Yes, Will. I see the chair,” she said.

  “Now it’s late. I’ve had a lot to eat. I’ve had a little to drink and we’ve been through some adventurous emotional stuff. But be warned, one day, I am going to sit in that chair, you are going to straddle me and take me very deeply inside of you.”

  “Oh, Will,” she mewled, electrified.

  “You’re going to rock us back and forth with your tippy toes and it’s going to be amazing. I don’t know when this is going to happen. If it’s going to be in two days, two hours or right about now but I want you to look at it. Think about it. Think about me. Think about us. Okay?”

  “I am thinking about it now,” she said.

  “Good girl,” he kissed her face. “Okay, that’s all.” He turned about face and climbed the stairs again. As they reached the dining area, he set her down.

  The waiter tried one last sale’s pitch. “Any coffee before you leave?” he asked.

  “No thanks,” Will smiled, and said to her privately, “I think we are ready for bed.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  The drive back to the house from the restaurant was a short one. The way Laura understood it, she thought the house would be theirs when they got back. At first it seemed like they were coming up on an ordinary scene but as the lights of the truck grew brighter, it was obvious something was very wrong.

  Will jerked the truck into park and rushed out. “Stay here,” he ordered. She began immediately to disobey him, grabbing for the door handle to get out herself. “I said stay here,” he growled.

  There on the driveway, lined up and some crushed on the asphalt, were the bikes. The bikes that the Knights’ Disciples were supposed to ride at least part of the way home. The weather towards Baltimore might be too cold for riding but they had a plan for all of that. They were supposed to be leaving. But now their bikes were destroyed. And the longer they waited it occurred to Laura, where was everyone?

  Laura got out of the truck. “God damn it!” he cursed for the first time that she could recall. He had certainly not raised his voice with her, not like that. “I said get back in the truck and call the cops!”

  She did what she was told but as she did, she slipped. There was moisture on the ground. She stepped over it and climbed into the truck. As she dialed, whatever she stepped in had a distinct smell and she couldn’t quite place it. She fished around Will’s car and found a napkin and wiped the bottom of her shoes as the emergency operator answered. She realized she didn’t know the address or anything.

  Thank God for close-knit communities where everyone knew everyone else. The emergency operator figured out where they were once she mentioned the Knights’ Disciples. Despite his upset, Laura somehow remained calm. Part of her realized she was in denial, that she had separated from reality. It was not a good sign that Will Shriner, Sergeant at Arms of the Knights’ Disciples, steady rock of a man, was shaken so. The cops were there in no time. She watched as one knocked on her window for her to lower it.

  “Ma’am, are you okay?” he asked. “Where’s Will Shriner?”

  Will. She had lost track of him. She saw him just a minute ago. The police officer was now opening her door, which lit up the truck. She hadn’t realized it but she was sort of in a frozen position, holding the napkin in her hand that she had used to wipe off her shoe off. She looked down at the napkin because she could see vividly. Blood.

  “I am going to need you to step out of the car,” said the police officer.

  “Can you help me?” she asked.

 
; Will came out of the darkness, his face wrenched with fear. “There’s no one here,” he said as if in shock. There were several cops on the scene and they recognized Will at once. They rallied around him. “We both just pulled up right as we called. We were at dinner.”

  “Where was that now, Will?” the cop asked with heavy southern drawl.

  “Poogan’s Porch,” he answered.

  Laura was stunned. There were no words in her mouth or thoughts in her head. As they stepped near the pool of slickness that she had slipped in she shouted, “Don’t! That’s blood! Where’s my brother?” Without any warning, she launched into an attack of hysteria.

  “Listen,” said a detective taking over. “Y’all are going to have to go to a hotel after we clear you. Not sure what’s available at the moment but we’re going to have to tape this off because it’s not looking so good.”

  Will starting punching numbers in his cellphone trying to get someone to answer. “No one’s answering,” his voice was garbled. “I wasn’t here,” he said over and over again.

  “Okay you all get back in the truck and stay put. I am going to have the EMTs come look at you. I am going to get you some paper and a pencil and when you’re ready, I want you to jot down some of those numbers.”

  Laura hung her head in her hands and sobbed as the absolute worst possible truth sunk in. It was looking like her brother and those who tried to help him had met a bad fate. Will Shriner this upset was proof positive enough for her. He called a number, punched a code and told her to be very quiet. He rolled the windows down to listen. And within a few seconds, there was a piercing screech filling the air, and could be heard over the racket of the cops and the EMTs. Will rushed out of the truck towards the sound. Like a linebacker, he swiped past men standing about trying to figure out what had happened.

  There on the ground, lit up from his phone call was someone else’s cell phone. He stood up, the detective on the scene had followed him. Will turned away, obviously overcome with emotion. She could hear him say the phone belonged to Darren. Laura felt the blood drain from her face. That was all she could take. She gave up and gave in. She fainted.

  She felt herself being driven. Will was riding next to her but she was not driving. The Big John of Big John’s Tavern was driving the car. The cops were pulling out. The ambulance was going and from the corner of her eye, Laura could see the cops unwinding police tap around Will’s property.

  “Where we going?” she murmured.

  “To my place,” said Big John.

  The lights were out at the tavern but Big John pulled the truck around the back to the loading area and parked securely. He got out and opened Laura’s door. He lifted her without any preliminaries to the driveway. “Need help?” he asked Will. Will shook his head. He looked positively destroyed.

  “I am only staying for a moment. I am going to help the cops find my guys.”

  “They’ll find them shortly. Let’s go knock back a few in the meantime. Come sit by the fire.”

  Will let the tavern owner walk Laura ahead of him. She turned in time to see him fish out a case from a compartment in the back of his truck seat that he leaned forward. From a cutout in the seat, was a box from which Will drew a gun. Laura pitched forward and began to throw up. This was not happening. The moment she got sick, Will quickly packed away the gun and rushed to her aid. The three of them went into the tavern.

  Big John damped a clean bar cloth and washed Laura’s face. “I am getting us some Jack. It’s for your own good.”

  “I don’t want to lose you,” she said. “I can’t. I know you are suffering but – ” She had no forethought of the words that were coming out of her mouth. She let them spill.

  “Laura Mills,” he said. “Look at me. I don’t want lose you either. You’re mine. I am yours. I love you.”

  “I love you back,” she hugged him, tears streaming from her eyes.

  Big John held a bottle and glasses in his hands. He was so huge he was able to carry everything without a tray. He poured shots. “Drink. Medicinal purposes. Listen. You’re going to get a call any minute. A good call. Good news. Let’s take a deep breath and formulate a strategy.”

  The warmth of the bourbon calmed Laura. “He sounds like you,” she said.

  “We ought to,” said Big John. “We’re friends.”

  “We went to dinner two hours ago,” Will said overcome with emotion. “Where could they be?”

  As if on cue, Will’s cellphone rang and he answered. “Thank God!” he stood up. Laura and Big John craned, waiting for the report. Will listened and Laura watched his face change. “Okay. Check in with the Charleston Police Chief. I am going to text you his number.” He hung up. He took Laura’s hand in his. Laura didn’t like it already.

  “No,” she said trying to avoid what he was about to say.

  “My guys are in North Carolina. They got the bike ready to go and Lucas went outside to smoke a cigarette. My guys think he went back to the gang…either by choice or by force. But their bikes were destroyed. They saw what was going on and they left through the secret passageway out the back of the beach. They left all their stuff, except their wallets. Most of them don’t have their cellphones. Lucas had Darren’s phone. I guess that’s why it was in the yard.”

  Laura swallowed hard. She lost her mother and father and her brother. She held out her glass. “Little John, how about another round?” she said.

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  They stopped looking for Shane Perry fifteen years ago.

  They did all they could do; filed reports, dragged the lake, and finally presumed him dead. The high school football field lit up with candlelight at his memorial, and mourners gathered to gaze at his glossy image: youthful and tall with a heart melting grin.

  Bikes and bikers are all Maggie Rice has ever known.

  She was riding before she could walk and switching out clutch plates by junior high. She was a quirky, fiery haired tomboy and it was her dream to ride with the 417s. Formerly her father’s crew, they all had a hand in raising her after his passing. Now that she ran her own garage, it seemed her chance had arrived at last.

  When the ghost of Shane Perry rides into town, he threatens to spoil it all.

  The day of her initiation into the 417s, Shane waltzed back into town as if he’d only been gone the weekend, and his first order of business was to crush her chance at happiness. No woman was going to ride in Shane Perry’s gang, not ever, and certainly not his closest childhood friend.

  Maggie doesn’t believe for one second his arrival is coincidental.

  Was it possible to hate and love a man at the same time? Where had Shane been all those years and why was he back? And when the Hell did he get so damned gorgeous?

  ***

  Allison Russell has a special knack for getting into trouble.

  An intoxicating mix of beauty and bravado, she made her living unearthing things certain people would rather remain buried: stolen goods, dirty secrets, and more than a little trouble. She lived for the thrill of the hunt, and a fat stack of cash after a job well done sure didn’t hurt.

  Jake Brighton has two talents, riding and thieving.

  He loved them in just that order, too. There was no better feeling than making a clean getaway with his partners in crime and fellow bikers, the Dixon Crew. He’d been riding with the Dixons since before he was shaving. They were his friends and his brothers and he’d proudly take a bullet for any one of them.

  And that’s why he ain’t buying what Allison Russell is selling.

  A case of mistaken identity on the job lea
ds Allison to a startling discovery, but before she can inform her client she must escape the Dixon Crew with her life. She must persuade the handsome but distrustful Jake Brighton to come to her aid, but his loyalty to his friends may just be the only thing more powerful than the aching tension growing between them.

  Jake believes in his crew, but Allison intoxicates him.

  If what she says is true, he’s been living a lie. But trusting a beautiful woman is never easy, particularly one who stirs a lust in him he’s never known. Is Allison the real deal, or is she using him to satisfy her client?

  ***

  Grace is the very best at what she does.

  Working for the Public Defender’s Office is thankless and the pay is meager, but she’s a true believer in the justice system. The beautiful, underpaid attorney has made it her life’s mission to see to it that ‘innocent until proven guilty’ still means something.