by J. L. Leslie
Our workload has severely lessened since the Rykers and Drycos disbanded. We still patrol, but have cut back on the number of members we send out. We still monitor Verdana and the surrounding cities. We still deal military grade weapons. Only now, we don’t deliver them in Verdana. Apparently, Dax made a deal with his daughter’s ex, who is now the District Attorney of Verdana. He credits the Griffin Knowles for saving Raiden’s life. I didn’t point out that she saved his ass too. Not sure why we owe him.
He’s some hoity-fucking-toity, rich kid who thinks his shit don’t fucking stink. He’s all righteous, spouting out about how he’s making Verdana safe again. I saw him on the news. That fucker doesn’t make Verdana safe. We do.
“Gotcha something.”
I roll my eyes at the voice behind me. Ashley. What’s sad is that I’ve screwed her so many times that I’ve lost count. Well, until I found out she had chlamydia. I don’t touch that fucking pussy anymore. She can bob her head on my dick, but I’m not fucking her again.
Ashley holds up a little baggy with my white powder in it. Cocaine has always been my weakness. I need it like the air I breathe. The only thing is, I have something else more important in my life right now, and snorting isn’t part of it, no matter how badly I might want it.
“How about we save that for later,” I offer, and guide her over to the sofa. She knows the drill. That’s why she’s here.
Chapter Two
~Katy~
Alexandria and I have had such a good day that I don’t want to tell her to take me home instead of to the Ravens’ clubhouse. I bite my tongue and decide that I’ll come inside and stay for a short time before feigning a headache. I’ll let her have some fun with the people she calls family, then I’ll go home.
I’ve been here six months. Six months and I’ve somehow managed to avoid the Ravens’ clubhouse like the plague. I went once to meet Dax, their president, and that was out of respect for Alexandria and Lincoln.
For the past six months, I’ve been trying to rebuild my life. Trying to figure out how to be me again. Reconnecting with Alexandria has been slow. I want to go back to how things were before I left, get that closeness back, but that seems impossible. We both know that. We have to start from scratch and get to know each other all over again. We’re two different people now, both having gone through things we can barely speak of.
She embraced the life that put her through hell. I ran from it.
“You hear from any jobs today?” Alexandria asks as she turns the car off and I shake my head. “I told you Dax can help with that.”
When Griffin came to find me, he had secured me a one-bedroom apartment in a gated building. My rent is paid for another six months, but then I’ll be on my own.
Verdana is a tourist town, full of small businesses and shops, so I’ve already submitted job applications. Thing is, people aren’t too apt to hire a woman who has no college education or job experience.
“Let me know if you change your mind,” she reminds me. “Just leave the bags in the car. I’ll get Lincoln to carry them inside for you when we drop you off later.”
I follow her inside, and immediately a large male wearing a Ravens cut runs into me, nearly knocking me over. He mumbles an apology to me and ‘Sully’ and continues chasing after the barely dressed woman who’s laughing as she runs away from him. The black bird on the back of his vest makes me shiver.
I walk backward, shaking my head and assuring him it’s fine. I just want to get to the sofa and escape the chaos. I reach back with my hands, still walking backward, when I bump into someone. Shit!
“I’m sorry,” I apologize, turning around. “Holy shit, oh my God.”
The baldheaded man stares up at me, his mouth parted in ecstasy. A groan escapes his lips as he guides the woman’s head down over his lap. He’s also wearing the same black, leather Ravens cut as the man who nearly ran me over.
“Give me a couple minutes, and you can hop on,” he offers, and my eyes go wide.
“I don’t…I don’t do…that.”
I leave the two of them, annoyed with myself that I bumped into them and even more annoyed that I stood there watching. Getting a blowjob is not an uncommon thing in a motorcycle club, and it’s not uncommon for it to happen in front of others either. There are club whores, and they’ll do almost anything. I’ve seen it. I know what those women are willing to do.
“You okay?” Alexandria asks when I join her at the bar.
“Honestly, I feel a little sick,” I reply, refraining from calling her anything. I’ve slipped up so many times today that I don’t know what to call her now.
“Don’t pay any attention to Kane. He’s usually the strong, silent type. When he does talk, you have to take what he says with a grain of salt.”
“He has tattoos on his head.”
“Yeah. He has a lot of tattoos,” she agrees, laughing. “Sorry if he bothered you.”
It isn’t long before I notice the girl standing and wiping her mouth. She could be pretty if she didn’t look so trashy. She’s one of those club whores that you can tell has serviced every single member and prospect several times over.
I was around the Sinners long enough to know that women like that can become dangerous. Being a club whore is only fun for a certain amount of time before they typically move on to another club. Club whores don’t get the respect that old ladies do. Eventually, they want that title.
I slip away from the bar and go outside. Away from Alexandria– well, Sully. Away from the music. Away from everyone.
I pull my phone from my pocket, and my hands tremble as I select Photos. Before I came to Verdana, my therapist told me to look at these. To remind myself of what I’ve overcome. How strong I am.
My eyes fill with tears as I view my older photos first. The ones of Mack and me when we were happy. The ones of us smiling, kissing.
Then I see the ones of my battered and bruised body. The ones of my busted lip, bloodied nose. It works. It reminds me of who I once was and where I escaped from. Only now, I feel as though I am right back into that same exact world.
Chapter Three
~Griffin~
I stumble out of the bed, cursing when I hit my knee on my nightstand. I ignore the throbbing, grab a shirt, and continue down the hall to go open my door. Lincoln Varelli stands in my doorframe, an annoyed look on his face. I pull my shirt on and motion for him to come inside.
“What the fuck took you so long?” he growls, stepping in and closing the door behind him.
It dawns on me that it’s the last Saturday of the month. We have a scheduled meeting. He despises coming here, but he owes me. The Ravens owe me. If it weren’t for me, Lincoln would be rotting in prison and Raiden Daughtry would be dead. I’ll admit, if it weren’t for her, I would also be dead. She did save my life first.
If she would have been forthcoming about her father’s dealings and her role in the club, neither one of us would have been in that warehouse to begin with. I dated her over two years for nothing. She never ratted the Ravens out. Well, I guess I wouldn’t call those two years a waste of time. She is Raiden Daughtry after all. It wasn’t exactly a chore fucking her.
“Overslept,” I mumble, running a hand through my dirty, blonde locks. I can tell they’re a mess on top of my head. “Coffee?”
He shrugs, taking a seat on my sofa. It wasn’t too long ago that I wouldn’t have allowed him to set foot in my house. Hell, it wasn’t that long ago that I prosecuted him and locked him up for possession of narcotics. I wonder how differently things would have turned out had I not used him as bait.
He was a Ryker. I knew his brother, Luka, wanted nothing to do with the motorcycle clubs of this town. I used to view them as gangs. Ruthless gangs. I still believe they’re ruthless, but I’ve been corrected enough times to know not to call them gangs anymore.
Lincoln was the perfect bait. I locked him up and waited on Luka to lose his patience. I had already lost mine. I had been dating Raiden for over tw
o years at that point. Despite her being the daughter to the Ravens’ president, I wasn’t making any progress. Not like I thought I would.
I assumed dating her would help me bring Dax down. I would get intel on him, on what his club was up to. She was always one step ahead of me. It never occurred to me that meeting her, asking her out, was all too easy. I was the one being played.
“I assume there’s nothing new,” Lincoln calls out from the sofa. “These meetings are redundant.”
“Can you spell redundant?” I can tell he rolls his eyes without even seeing him do it.
There’s always an underlying animosity between Lincoln and me, but we have a mutual respect for each other now. I apologized for locking him up, he told me to fuck off.
“We have our guys watching the city lines for both Los Angeles and San Diego. There’s been no activity from Thad’s chapter or from the L.A. Sinners. Eddie has been checking airlines, bus stations, train stations, and there’s been nothing. No movement.”
I hand him the coffee mug and take a seat. I’m pretty sure he’s hiding something from me. In fact, I know he is.
“What about the guy who’s been here all week? Has a room at that shitty motel over on Alendale?”
“He’s not a threat,” he replies, nonchalantly. I give him a look. “Don’t look at me like that. He’s not a fucking threat.”
“I don’t need dead bodies popping up in Verdana.”
“He won’t be popping up in Verdana,” he grins.
“I told you there would be retaliation. It’s just a matter of time. The fact that he was even here at all is proof of that.”
Thad Harrelson came here to Verdana after his son, Cal, who was also the president of the Rykers, was killed in a warehouse fire. I just so happened to be in that warehouse the night he died. His cause of death sure as hell wasn’t from a warehouse fire.
As for the L.A. Sinners, well, their president was Thad’s stepbrother, Mack Jacobson. He was playing a dangerous game, and it was only a matter of time before that blew up in his face. He’s rotting six feet in the ground beside Thad.
“I definitely expect them to retaliate. If it were the Ravens, we would. We will keep monitoring like we’re doing. When the Rykers and Drycos become a threat, we’ll let you know. Let us do what we do best, and you keep doing whatever the fuck it is you’re doing.”
“You know what it is that I’m doing.”
“Do I?” he questions, arching his eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure you’re pining after my old lady’s sister.”
The mention of the beautiful brunette makes me shift in my seat. It’s true. When I went to pick up Katy from protective custody, I thought we had a connection. She seemed to trust me. Wanted to be around no one except me.
She’s been here for about six months. We’ve talked on the phone. Spent time together. Hell, I even take her to the beach. I know a shit ton about the time she spent with the Sinners, and I know how damn ugly it was. We were getting close. I made a move, and she didn’t return it. End of story.
“I don’t have time for someone with as many problems as your future sister-in-law,” I tell him, then add, “No offense. The McGuire women are beautiful, but fucked up.”
He laughs at this, nodding in agreement. Sully, his old lady, was Cal Harrelson’s old lady first. Turns out, she wasn’t Sully at all. She’s Alexandria McGuire and was working undercover for the FBI to bring down the Rykers. I have yet to hear Lincoln call her Alexandria though. To him, she’s Sully and the lifestyle she started living while being with the Rykers has stayed with her.
With our meeting winding down, Lincoln reaches into his back pocket and produces a piece of paper, finally giving me what I asked for.
“Dax thinks this is a waste of time.”
“Dax also thinks his daughter is just a club asset,” I gripe, taking the paper from him. There are only three names on it, but I’ll make it work. I’ve already been working on my own list.
Chapter Four
~Katy~
I stare down at my hands and then smooth my slacks over my thighs before crossing my legs. I shouldn’t be nervous any longer. The interview is over now. The hard part is done. I was told to wait here, and the store manager would be back in a moment. He is only making a copy of my driver’s license.
I uncross my legs and cross them the opposite way, trying not to get bent out of shape by the fact that I’m closed up inside a small room. They still get to me sometimes. I suppose that’s normal after the time I spent locked up in the basement at the Sinner’s clubhouse. Therapy can only do so much.
Instead, I focus on Mr. Greene. He seemed nice enough. Offered me the job the moment I finished answering his interview questions. It’s Wal-Mart. Nothing extravagant or fancy. It’s not modeling. But damn it, I’m both excited and nervous.
“Ms. McGuire, here you are,” Mr. Greene says, handing me back my license. “I can put you on the schedule as early as Monday.”
I stand and shake his extended hand. “That will be great.”
I leave his office feeling accomplished. When I was recruited by the modeling agent, I really didn’t do anything to get that job. I was at work, and he approached me. He offered me the job, and I wasn’t even trying to get it. It came easy for me.
I put in my application here weeks ago. I had to interview, answer questions. I did this all on my own. Even leaving the Sinners, I had help. It feels good knowing I accomplished this without anyone’s help.
I call Alexandria as I walk towards the exit, doing good to remember to call her Sully when she answers the phone. I estimated the time of the interview, and it ended a little earlier than I expected. She should be here soon, but I want to let her know I’m finished and that I got the job.
“I’m so proud of you!” she exclaims the moment I tell her.
“How close are you?” I ask. “Maybe we can get lunch to celebrate.”
“Well, Leon and I are still working on the Toyota. I called one of the Ravens to come get you. Someone should be there.”
“I can just take a cab,” I decline. If I start accepting favors from the Ravens, they might expect something in return. Nothing in life is free.
“Someone should already be there. Just look around. I’m sure when they see you they’ll drive up to get you.”
As she’s saying this, I see a bike circling the parking lot. No. Nope. Uh-uh. I do not want to get on the back of a bike again.
I disconnect with my sister as the bike pulls to a stop in front of me. The driver nods his head back, indicating that I should get on behind him.
“Um, you know what, I’m just going to call a cab.”
Without a word, he grabs the extra helmet from the back of his bike and holds it out for me. “I told Sully I would pick you up, so just get your cute ass on the bike.”
I stare down at the helmet from his hand, unwilling to take it, still annoyed by his attitude. “Just because you call me cute, doesn’t excuse your behavior.”
He keeps his arm outstretched, waiting on me to take the helmet. I refuse to argue with him, and he seems like the type to argue, so I snatch the helmet from his grasp and strap it on. I grow more frustrated hearing him chuckle as I climb on behind him. As much as I don’t want to, I wrap my arms around his waist, knowing gripping his jacket is not enough for how fast these bikes can go.
“I don’t recall asking for my behavior to be excused.”
Jackass.
Chapter Four
~Griffin~
I hate Lincoln Varelli. He gives me a list of names, and all these assholes are impossible to nail down. They wouldn’t have given him their name if they weren’t willing to work with me. I don’t have time to chase people down. I sure as shit don’t have time to come meet people at Diesel’s on Friday nights. This is not somewhere I prefer to spend time.
Still, I changed into jeans and a short-sleeved button-up after I finished up with court and drove over here. The popular bar is packed, and from what I hear, that�
�s not unusual. Ever since the Rykers’ establishment, The Lion’s Den, closed down, the patrons from that place started frequenting Diesel’s. They don’t get the extra-curricular activities here, but I guess they still like the company.
“Whoa, DA Knowles, you get lost or something?” Diesel grins, sliding me a beer across the bar. “You know, we don’t have a dress code here.”
He’s a scary asshole. I think it’s pretty bad when the motorcycle clubs don’t want to get on your bad side. The Ravens back his bar, offering protection when needed, but he rarely needs it.
I know something went down with the Rykers a while back, but Lincoln won’t divulge any info on it. All I know is, Lincoln treads lightly around Diesel, and the Drycos disbanded. All the drugs in their warehouse were seized, and without their product, they couldn’t function. One less motorcycle club in Verdana. For now, anyway.
“Looking for Ian Tate.”
Diesel nods toward the cage set up in the middle of the bar. He holds fight nights here every weekend. I don’t get into the whole bashing each others’ heads into a pulp thing, but I guess it does it for some people. Luka, the man Raiden left me for, still fights occasionally.
Speaking of Raiden…
Her arms snake around my waist as I lean into her. She smells good. Fuck, she always smells good. I hear her mumble that it’s good to see me.
I would have married her. I know without a doubt that I would have eventually proposed. It didn’t matter that our entire relationship was a ruse. In my mind, I still cared about her. I could have continued on pretending, forgetting that she was who she was and that I targeted her to get intel on the Ravens. The longer I didn’t get what I needed from her, the easier it was to forget why I started dating her in the first place.
“You look good,” I tell her. “Luka treating you right?”
