by Marie James
Al nearly buckles from the fist Eric pounds into his stomach.
My son yanks Al’s head down as far as it will go and speaks in his ear. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m much worse than my father.”
He punctuates his statement by kicking the chair out from under my treasurer’s feet.
The man doesn’t even have the decency to die with a snap of his neck. Eric steps back, watching with a gleeful look in his eyes as Al kicks and swings before slowly succumbing to the rope around his neck.
Perfect stillness falls over the group, each and every person in the room waiting for Eric’s next move. When he asked for the backpack, I was certain he’d back out before he took things this far.
“Prospect,” Eric says, his eyes looking around for the man who had the balls to praise Al out of turn earlier. “Clean this shit up.”
The prospect swallows thickly as his eyes follow Eric’s finger pointing at the piss at Al’s still feet. “You got it.”
“Carrie,” Eric says with a devious tone. “Get me a beer and get your panties off.”
The crowd roars, but Carrie does as she’s told, and everyone transitions from memorial service to the New Year’s party we should’ve been celebrating last night.
I’ll never fucking forget the day my son became a man I can be proud of.
Chapter 8
July 2009
“Update,” I spit as I sit at the head of the table surrounded by my club.
Manic’s eyes dart to Riggs’ before he speaks. “One of the trap houses in Newark got rolled last night.”
Pinching the bridge of my nose doesn’t even begin to stave off the migraine I’ve had for the last week.
“Keep an eye on that facespace bullshit so we can figure out who had the balls to pull some shit like that,” I order.
Idiots online think they’re invincible. It wouldn’t surprise me if someone from Newark hadn’t already posted about their attempt at being Billy Badass.
“Facespace?” Briar asks. He’s one of the idiots Eric brought in last year. Two years older than my son, it only took the guy like six months to transition from prospect to patched member. That was Eric’s call, and I let him have it. I’m not feeling as confident in his choices these days, especially after the bullshit he pulled this past weekend. “I mean there’s MySpace and Face—”
Gator kicks Briar under the table. “Shut the fuck up.”
Briar’s mouth snaps shut. If my brain didn’t feel like it was swelling out of my skull, I’d put a bullet in his head. That would show my wayward son who’s still in fucking control of this club. I’m only forty, but most days I feel eighty. It’s what I get for living my thirties to their fullest. I never knew coke, whiskey, and copious amounts of pussy would eventually wear me down, but here I am, eating pain pills like they’re candy and drinking Pepto like I own stock in the damn company.
“Lynch was arraigned this morning. One of the prospects went to pick him up,” Manic continues.
“I want to see him when he gets back.” The pride I felt the day Eric earned his road name has faded quickly as of late.
Riggs shuffles uneasily in his seat. He knows what I’m capable of. The larger our empire grows, the more ruthless we have to be. He knows I’ll do anything I have to, to keep control of Ravens Ruin, taking care of my son in the way I see fit included.
“Clientele has increased with the financial crisis. We’re moving more product than ever. Testing the GHB market in Boston seems to be going well,” Riggs states.
Briar cuts his eyes to Riggs, displeasure clear on his face.
“You got a problem, kid?” I ask with a cocked eyebrow, daring him to speak his fucking mind.
“No, Prez,” he mutters, crossing his arms over his chest and sliding deeper into his chair.
Riggs rolls his eyes, agitated that we’re even entertaining the young group of guys that my son is adamant about bringing into the MC.
“Prez?” My eyes meet Gator’s.
“We might want to consider Rohypnol rather than GHB. It’s just easier to transport, and decreases the dealer’s chances of getting caught when they don’t have to dose everyone in person,” he says.
“Manic?” I turn my attention to my VP.
“He’s got a point. We can still provide liquid for the bodybuilders, but capsules may be more lucrative for the college kids,” Manic answers.
“You realize guys are using that shit to rape girls, right?” Briar spits.
“They want a high without the hangover,” Gator counters.
“When mixed with alcohol—” I snap my hand up to interrupt Briar’s tirade on drug use.
“We can’t concern ourselves with the people after they buy the drugs,” I remind him. “Addicts overdose every day. We don’t force them to use.”
“We just supply the product,” Briar mutters, echoing the words I’ve said to him numerous times in the past.
“Last time I’m going to ask you if you have a problem,” I seethe.
Dahmer scoots a little further away from Briar so as not to catch a stray bullet if I decide to take that route. His lack of confidence in my aim is troubling.
“No, sir,” Briar answers one final time before snapping his jaw shut and looking down at his jeans.
“Do we know anyone who can open a wholesale market for the Ro?” I ask.
“I’m sure our X guy can make something happen,” Gator says.
“Reach out to him. Let me know how it goes.”
The double doors open, and the fucking golden child walks in with a cocky smirk on his fucking face. My gun is aimed and firing before anyone else at the table can respond.
Briar is the only one who moves as Lynch falls to the floor.
“Don’t you dare fucking move,” I hiss just before Briar pulls his ass out of his chair.
“You fucking shot him!” the ignorant kid roars.
“You want to be next?” I point my M&P in his direction.
His head shakes violently.
“Fuck, Dad,” Lynch grumbles from the floor.
“What else?” I ask my guys at the table. Not one of them dares to look in the direction of my bleeding son.
“Um.” Manic’s mouth works open and closed several times before he begins to make sense. “We’ve set up the trade lines with the Dominicans, so we won’t be caught empty-handed like last month when Mexico was hit hard with the wildfires.”
“Excellent,” I mutter, my attention turning back to the open church doors.
TJ pops his head in, looking for me at the head of the table. I nod, giving him the go-ahead to enter.
“Dumbass,” he mutters as he steps around his older brother to hand me a beer, not batting a single eyelash at the sight of Lynch shot on the floor. “Need anything else?”
“No, son.”
My cold-hearted eleven-year-old gives Lynch a swift kick before walking out and pulling the door closed behind him.
“Fucking savage,” Lynch whimpers from the floor. It doesn’t matter that there are seven-plus years between them, they still bicker like toddlers most days.
“What else?”
“That’s about it, Prez,” Riggs says.
“Church is dismissed,” I snap as my gavel hits the wood of the table.
My guys scatter, doing their best not to look down at Lynch as they leave the room.
“Let me help you up,” I hear Briar whisper as he passes by my son.
“Get the fuck out of here,” Lynch spits on another groan.
“I’m disappointed in you,” I say after I’ve finished my beer. Standing, I round the table and look down. “Want to tell me why you think you can fuck up without immunity.”
“I got popped with a little weed, Dad. It’s not like I’m facing murder charges.”
Toeing him in his injured shoulder, he whimpers when I force him to his back so I can see his eyes.
“What have I always told you?”
“Make the bitch carry
the dope.”
“Exactly. So how the fuck did you get popped with weed?”
“I was on the way to the bitch’s house,” he explains as if doing so will alter the outcome.
I dig my boot deeper into his wound.
“There is enough pussy at the clubhouse to sate any fucking desire you can concoct. Your wildest dreams can come true right inside of these four walls. There isn’t a bitch here who wouldn’t do exactly what you want them to. You have no fucking need to leave to get your dick sucked,” I remind him.
“Ever think I want a piece of ass every guy in this club hasn’t blown their load into?”
“You ungrateful asshole,” I hiss. “The pussy I provide isn’t good enough for you?”
“Fuck, Dad. Quit!” Blood spills past his fingers as he presses them to his wound. I’d worry about him, but his coloring is still good, and the puddle of blood under his back has stopped growing. “I just wanted something different.”
“Pussy is pussy. You need to get that through your thick fucking skull. You know you can’t pull this shit. Every cop in a hundred-mile radius is itching to take down this fucking club, and you’re giving them a reason to do just that.” I crouch beside him even though my knees protest. “I haven’t spent the last two decades building up this club for you to bring it down with something as petty as fucking pot possession.”
“Jesus, can I get up?” His eyes are squeezed tight.
“Not until you come.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” His eyes finally snap open to meet mine.
I grin, pretty fucking proud of myself for his punishment.
“Moni!” I yell as I open the heavy wooden door.
With a cute pucker to her lips, Monica, one of the newer additions to the club girls comes sliding up. “Hey there, Cowboy. Ready for more already?”
My smile widens. I know for a fact that Lynch has sampled the goods Moni has, but after he breaks a girl in, he tosses them to the rest of the guys. He doesn’t touch them after that.
“Lynch needs a little help.” Stepping out of the way, I point down to my bleeding son.
“Oh, God, baby what happened?” Moni leans over Lynch.
He doesn’t meet her eyes as he glares up at me.
“Make him come,” I demand.
“Like to my room?” Bless her poor slow heart.
“No, babe. Suck him or fuck him until he nuts. He can’t get off the floor until he jizzes.”
Moni, being the champ that she is, begins to unbuckle his jeans in the next breath.
“This could take a while,” Moni says in apology.
“I’m betting on it,” I mutter as I take the last few steps toward the door. “Don’t die, son. We have shit to do tomorrow.”
Chapter 9
October 2012
“What do you mean they took him into custody?”
TJ snickers beside me, and it takes everything in me not to smack him across his jaw. Sibling rivalry is one thing, but having no loyalty at all is going to get this kid in fucking trouble.
“He didn’t think they’d make him piss today,” Briar says as he takes a step away from me. The kid has gotten smarter over the last couple of years. Give me bad news from a distance. Never be the first one in striking distance.
“Turn that shit off,” I snap at TJ as the sounds of his video game become more than I can handle. I turn my attention back to Briar, ignoring the grumbling coming from the snarky-ass teenager. “He should always expect to be tested when he reports to probation.”
Only my son would get five years probation in a state every other asshole gets only two years. I guess it comes with the territory of running an MC no one can bust. We’re too diligent for the local police, and the Feds haven’t fucked with us in years.
“Fuck,” I mutter. I can’t even manage the level of anger needed for this situation. “I needed him in Pittsburgh next month.”
“He’ll be in prison next month,” TJ says as he walks by.
I grab his arm before he can slide past me. “Your brother going to prison isn’t fucking funny.”
Fire fills TJ’s eyes as he looks down at me. There are days when I wonder if this kid isn’t going to kill me in my sleep.
“Give me a cut, and I’ll do all of his jobs ten times better,” TJ spits.
“You aren’t even old enough to drive. You don’t even have hair on your fucking nuts yet. You couldn’t handle half the shit your brother does.”
“Keke loves my hairless balls,” he says with a quick smile. “So does Tiff. They especially like them when they’re sucking on them at the same time.”
Jesus, this kid.
“Hand me my goddamned kit,” I mutter, releasing his arm. He obeys, which is hit or miss these days. Once the tin is in my hands, I deliver the bad news. “You’re no longer allowed to touch the girls.”
“You can’t fucking do that!” TJ roars.
I don’t even bother to offer him a response. He knows my word is law, as does Piper who nods in my direction. She’ll let all the girls know he’s off-limits until further notice. He may be eighteen by that point if he doesn’t get his attitude in check.
“You fucking suck, Dad.”
“And I’m changing the Wi-Fi password, so you’ll have to jack off from memory.”
TJ storms off as Briar chuckles. He stops the moment my eyes snap in his direction.
“Where’s Lynch?” Riggs asks as he walks into the room. “And why the fuck is TJ talking about burning the clubhouse down?”
“Lynch is heading to prison for pissing dirty at probation, and TJ has been placed on a pussy ban,” Gator says from the other side of the room.
I didn’t even know his ass was in the room.
“Lynch is a dumbass. He knows how to get past that shit,” Riggs says as he settles on the couch beside me. I snarl as the perfect line I’d just cut on the mirror shimmies and has to be redone.
“He has a new PO. The old bat wouldn’t even consider a bribe,” Briar says as he shakes a cigarette from his pack. “He’ll be lucky if he doesn’t pick up charges for even offering it.”
“TJ may kill us all if he isn’t getting laid,” Riggs grumbles as he reaches for the remote.
“Cowboy,” Piper interrupts respectfully.
I don’t bother looking up at her until the burn turns into numbness in my throat. When my eyes meet hers, she seems sad.
“Who’s going to make up for the slack?”
Briar laughs. “This bitch.”
“Slack?” I ask, hating to be confused.
“If Lynch is in prison and TJ is off-limits, who are we going to fuck?”
“Seriously?” My eyes scan the rest of the room. Dahmer is frowning from the other side of the room. “You can fuck everyone else.”
Her lips roll between her teeth.
“Just spit it out, Piper,” I snap, quickly losing my patience.
“Rumor is Piper doesn’t spit,” Briar says under his breath. Gator chuckles, nodding his head in agreement.
“It’s just that… your boys have the biggest…” She frowns before continuing. “The girls really like spending time with them.”
“Ouch.” Briar holds his hands to his chest as if he’s broken-hearted.
“Hush,” Piper spits in his direction. “I’d fuck you if you were into chicks.”
“I’m into chicks!” Briar exclaims when my eyes cut in his direction. “I’ve taken a vow of fucking celibacy. Everyone knows this.”
I’d question him if he wasn’t so reliable as of late. He may not want to fuck anyone, but the man has no problem fucking people up. He proved that last week when we had an issue with a low-level dealer getting too big of a head on the corner he was working. Let’s just say his head will no longer be a problem. As a matter of fact, I’m certain no one will see his head again. It certainly wasn’t anywhere around when the police found his body.
Shaking my head, I attempt to bring my foggy mind back to the present. �
�Are you really begging me to let you fuck my fourteen-year-old son?”
Her mouth snaps shut so hard another laugh erupts from Briar. The guy rarely has a mature bone in his body unless he’s cutting someone up.
“No one is fucking TJ,” I advise. “Until further notice.”
She nods slowly, her mouth opening and closing twice before she decides to ask for how long. The woman is testing my patience.
Wanting dick from a fourteen-year-old. What the actual fuck is wrong with people these days? It doesn’t matter that I was plowing pussy at the same age. Someone has to teach the damn boy a lesson.
“What is Lynch looking at?” I ask Riggs after Piper gets up and leaves the room. I wouldn’t put it past her or Keke to sneak that boy a piece of ass. If anything, they’ll still be sucking his dick. It’s become legendary around here. As much as Lynch’s was the day he strung Al up like he’d been killing people his whole life.
“A year,” Riggs answers. “Eighteen months tops. If he keeps his nose clean while he’s in lockup.”
“Then he’ll be paroled?”
Riggs shakes his head. “He should come out completely off paper if he doesn’t get into trouble on the inside.”
“What are the fucking chances that’ll ever happen,” I mutter as I pour another heap of coke onto my mirror.
“Lynch is a smart kid,” Gator says. “He’ll do what he needs to get back home. He knows how much we need him.”
I wish I could argue with him, tell him he’s full of shit, but I can’t. Lynch has become invaluable to the Ravens Ruin MC. People like him. Even when he has to settle a problem with violence, they’re apologizing with sincerity and disappointment in their own eyes as he strings them up. It’s the craziest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. Mistakes, problems, and betrayals have become all but non-existent. I believe it’s more because people don’t want to disappoint him than being fearful of the consequences.
“I needed him in Pittsburgh.” The second line goes down smoother than the first did.
“I’ll handle Pittsburgh,” Briar offers. “But with how hard Jersey is getting pounded by Sandy, we may need to reevaluate our immediate focus.”
