Shake (The Club Girl Diaries Book 8)

by Addison Jane

  Once I was in, we took off like lightning, the desert road dead straight and almost empty. Not a lot of people, and only the odd small community. Romeo obviously had no care for being pulled over. You’d think since he’d just got out of prison, the last thing he’d want to do was run into a cop.

  I wouldn’t want to be that cop anyway.

  It took a little under an hour to get to the city. The place was crazy, and it wasn’t somewhere I could ever imagine myself living or spending a lot of time. I liked the quiet that small towns bought, the ability to just escape so easily into the countryside.

  The lights and sounds were way too much for my senses.

  I’d probably go mad.

  Whereas, the look on my brother’s face told me everything. The smile, the way he slouched back in his seat, the ease and smooth driving.

  He was at home here.

  This was his place.

  We pulled up to an intersection. My club joined the straight lane to the airport while we were veering to the left to head east toward Athens. “Honesty, this gives me anxiety.”

  Romeo shook his head as we pulled away from them. “Once we’re out of the city, we’re fine. They don’t leave Las Vegas, they don’t want to or need to. If they haven’t made an appearance yet, I’m pretty sure we’ll be okay. Ten minutes, and we’ll be well out of this place.”

  “Pretty sure isn’t exactly convincing,” I countered.

  His eyes flicked to me before they moved back to the road. “It’s all I’ve got. Nothing’s for sure in life, you know that.”

  The car was quiet after that, the radio playing softly in the background as Romeo eased in and out of traffic with practiced ease, the three-lane highway that ran through the city making it almost too easy to escape. Phee was dosing in and out in the back, and I was beginning to think maybe this would be a good time to catch some sleep before Romeo would need to pull over and stop.

  And then I heard the motorcycles.

  At first, it didn’t register that it could be anyone other than my brothers, with my first thought being, oh crap, something’s changed.

  “Fuck,” Romeo cursed under his breath as two bikes flew up either side of us at high speed. Their colors flashed by my eyes, and I instantly knew they weren’t ours.

  I turned to Romeo whose lips were pressed into a hard line. “What does that mean?”

  The two club members pulled in front of us and began to slow down, forcing Romeo to either run into them or brake.

  He chose the latter.

  “These the guys you’ve been running from?” I asked seriously, needing to prepare myself for anything which was about to happen.

  One by one, bikes moved around us with one of the riders in front putting out his arm and pointing to the off ramp.

  I took note of the patch on the back—The Exiled Eight MC, Las Vegas.

  The name rang a bell, but not a strong one.

  Romeo shook his head. “These are just guys I’ve done regular business with. I know their president quite well. It shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “Shouldn’t be is right up there with pretty sure.”

  My heart was racing hard, and I reached for my gun which was tucked in under my jacket as Romeo took the off-ramp. One that just so happened to lead to a large train yard, part of which was under construction—the construction part completely empty.

  We followed them in, the car bouncing through the potholes until we came to a stop outside a large warehouse that stored the construction equipment and building materials. Plenty of pieces of machinery which could come in handy if someone was pissed off at us coming into their territory without as much as a, ‘Hey, how’s it goin’.’

  “What’s going on?” Phee asked nervously looking around at the strange men surrounding her.

  “It’s okay,” Romeo answered straight away. Strangely calm. “I’ll handle it. But whatever I say, just fucking follow along, will you?” He reached for the door handle before I could even agree, throwing it open and climbing out with his hands slightly raised in surrender.

  Was he stupid?

  Did he not know what these kind of guys were capable of?

  What they might fucking do to me if they figure out that I’m flying the wrong colors?

  Even though I wasn’t wearing them right now, I still had my back completely covered.

  “Jesus Christ,” I cursed. “Stay here, Phee. Don’t get out.”

  I tucked my gun back under my jacket and climbed out of the car. Eyes observed me as I made my way to the back where Romeo was standing like he was waiting for someone. No one spoke. No one even moved to hold a weapon to us. Then I heard the roar of a couple of more motorcycles coming down the street and slowing to pull into the same road we’d just entered.

  They maneuvered around the deep holes like they knew where every single one was located and had done this a million times before. The two of them pulled up at the back of the group and climbed off removing their helmets and placing them on their handlebars before walking toward us.

  They stepped through the circle of men and machines that surrounded us in the small yard, their eyes taking me in first before moving to Romeo. I spotted the president’s patch almost immediately. The kid who’d pulled up with him wearing the V.P.

  “Romeo,” the older man addressed. His beard was gray and cut close to his face. It wasn’t full but more like a goatee framing his mouth. It matched his salt and pepper hair which was shaved on the sides, but the long hair on top pulled back into a ponytail which was braided and hung down over his shoulder. “When did you break out?”

  The casual tone didn’t get past me, and I looked over to my brother who had a smirk on his face. “I’m a free man as of about an hour and a half ago,” he announced, holding his arms out wide. “You pull us over just to congratulate me, old man?”

  The president smirked. “I’m pretty sure I do owe you a beer,” he answered, scratching his beard. “Clubhouse ain’t far. You’re welcome to bring your visitors to drop in.” The sharp tone and the way his eyes moved to me instantly had me standing a little taller.

  Romeo stepped closer to me inching himself forward, so he was slightly in front. “Now Huntsman, you know any other day I would, but I haven’t seen my brother or my little sister…” he pointed to me and then back to the car where Phee’s face was peeking over the seats, “… for six damn years, man. We’re leaving the city, heading to Alabama. No harm. No foul.”

  Huntsman nodded but still didn’t take his eyes off me. “That where your club is from?”

  I gritted my teeth. Of course, anyone who’d seen us riding through town together would probably put two and two together. There was just something about the way a club rode together compared to when motorcycle enthusiasts or friends went out riding for fun. We were more in sync with each other, we knew our space, we usually rode beside the same person, and we stuck together like fucking glue.

  “Yeah. Athens, Alabama,” I answered, not willing to deny the fact only to be caught out as a liar if they decided to really get dirty.

  “And your club name?”

  “Brothers by Blood.”

  I watched his face carefully. I’d know pretty damn soon if I was in trouble or not. The tattoos that covered his arms and the few across his neck, they weren’t all for decorative purposes. I knew the trophies of a hitman. He wasn’t the first I’d met, and each one of them somehow found a way to celebrate their kills. The tattoo on the back of his hand told me almost everything I needed to know about his skill, his technique—the crosshairs down the scope of a gun, the silhouette of a deer, unaware, and probably the reason behind his name.

  He was a hunter.

  He went looking for those people who were running, who were in hiding, or who had just seemed to disappear. And I bet he found them every damn time.

  Right now, he was looking at me as if I was his next target. Watching me, assessing me.

  Finally, after a few tense moments, he nodded. “I know
Digger from down in Texas. The hell are you doing around here?”

  I relaxed a little now I could feel the tension in the air calming a little. It was always touch and go with other clubs. I had no idea what other chapters of the Brothers by Blood had a beef with, or who didn’t like them. I could meet a club that had had one run in with a brother from another chapter, and they could kill me on the spot just for that. We had to be careful when we were away from home, and this time, we hadn’t been careful enough. This time we were lucky that Romeo knew this guy, and he had a good relationship with one of our club presidents.

  “Got a phone call a couple of days ago to say this asshole had the shit beaten out of him out in High Desert,” I explained, nodding to Romeo who frowned and brushed his thumb across his split lip. “Wanted to make sure whoever did it, didn’t get the chance to have another round.”

  Huntsman immediately turned his attention to Romeo with a raised eyebrow. “Since when does anyone come at you?” Those few words gave me a small insight into just how well known and respected my little brother was around these parts.

  “Like I said, I ain’t seen my brother or sister since we were put into foster care six years ago. Decided I was going to head out with them for a while. Someone didn’t appreciate I was leaving.” The emphasis on that one word and the dark flash in Huntsman’s eyes told me everything I needed to know. This guy Romeo was running from was important around here. He was well known, and neither Romeo nor the club liked that.

  Huntsman tried to keep a straight face, but I saw the way his lip twitched in anger. “Get the hell out of here,” he ordered before turning to me. “You’re lucky it was your brother that got out of the car. I don’t take too kindly to you and your boys sneaking around on my turf. We could have taken you out fucking five exits ago, but I wanted to bring you here… lot of special shit in there… shit that could easily dismember a body in a few minutes. And coincidently, on a day where we planned to lay concrete.” Huntsman was dead serious, the men around us still not cracking a smile.

  I didn’t take the threat lightly and showed him the respect he deserved, and he’d no doubt earned. “Yes, sir,” I responded through gritted teeth.

  “We better get moving,” Romeo noted, dipping his head with a smirk. “Hamlet here has a prom to get to.”

  Roaring laughter came from Huntsman’s mouth, the boys around us all joining in as Romeo and I headed back to the front of the car, their deep chuckles lighting up the construction site.

  “Just had to do it, didn’t you,” I hissed as we jumped in.

  Romeo smirked. “I hope she’s worth the shit I’m gonna give you.”

  My response was instant. “And fucking more.”

  His smirk slowly transformed into a genuine smile. As if he was almost happy I’d found someone who I would do something as embarrassing—at nearly twenty-five—as to go to prom with. “Good. You’re gonna need to hold onto that over the next twenty-six hours because I’ve been storing them in my head since we left the prison.”

  It’ll be a miracle if we make it back to Athens alive.

  Staring at the floor length mirror in my bedroom, I smoothed down the fabric of my dress—well if you could call it that at the moment.

  Right then, all I was wearing was a beautifully embellished black corset type top with deep, dark crimson rose decorated lace over the top. There were no straps, but the damn thing was so tight there was no way in hell anything was falling or popping out. On the bottom where one would usually find a stunning silk or chiffon skirt, I was wearing a pair of leather short shorts, with the same rose lace in a small strip down the side to match the top half.

  There was a good reason.

  My mom had finally said yes to Uncle Leo’s offer to have a couple of the boys drive Emma and me to the prom on the back of their bikes—it was kind of a big deal around here, and most of the town came to watch everyone show up and walk inside. There were prizes for the most creative transport, and some kids went up and over the top.

  Our rides wouldn’t be all that creative, but I knew they would draw attention given he also promised to have the entire club with the boys in their colors and leathers escort us.

  Hence, the outfit.

  Uncle Leo wasn’t letting me get on the back of anyone’s motorcycle with a dress that had the chance of getting caught in the moving parts, so we’d made a compromise when I’d found Selina Gomez in an outfit like this online with a sheer black lace floor length skirt over the top.

  Mom and I made a mad dash to every local shop until we found one, so when I arrived at the prom, it would simply slip on over the top, and bam, evening gown—well, kind of.

  It wasn’t anything too extravagant, but I truly didn’t care to be honest. I wasn’t going to try and impress anyone. To be honest, I hadn’t wanted to go at all. I just didn’t care much for these sort of things, but this was my senior year after thing, and after this, I’d be done with high school forever. High school hadn’t been my idea of fun. Actually, the last year or so had been basically hell. Nobody wanted to go through school with few friends, being the butt of the joke, knowing it wasn’t so much people didn’t like me, but that I just wasn’t worth standing up and fighting for.

  This was my last stand in a way.

  This was where I got to walk back in there and say, ‘Fuck you, you didn’t break me.’

  And I got to do it with Ham beside me.

  At least, I hoped. I still hadn’t heard from him. All I knew was that Uncle Leo said he had to go away for a couple of days. He wasn’t answering any of my texts, and when I tried to call, his phone was simply turned off. I was trying to let the thought not ruin my mind, especially given that Uncle Leo wouldn’t give me any other details.

  A deep, earth shaking rumble made me stand a little taller and finally brought a smile to my face. It grew stronger and louder as I grabbed red pumps and my lace skirt, and raced out of my bedroom door, taking two steps at a time to the bottom where Mom was already standing waiting for me. She smiled whimsically as her eyes moved over my revealing outfit showing off my long, toned legs which were part great genes and part results of a mid-teenage years freak out.

  I’d started doing yoga and Pilates in my bedroom when I’d realized I loved food far too much, and exercised never, and like every typical teenager, I started to compare my body to other girls in my class. Luckily, I really loved to do both and could hide away where no one could see me while I did them. So I tried to do at least one a day, and so far, they’d worked well to make my body look pretty damn good, even if I did say so myself.

  “You look beautiful,” Mom gushed as I sat on the staircase and slipped my feet into my shoes hearing the symphony of motorcycles grow closer and closer. My stomach twisted nervously. Ham promised he’d make it back in time, but I hadn’t heard from him for days, not since he’d just up and caught a plane to Las Vegas to see his brother. I couldn’t be angry about it, even though after everything my mom and I talked about, it would have been nice to sit down and have someone as a sounding board to help me process it all.

  The house shook as all the bikes pulled up outside at the curb. It was kind of intense but also filled me with pride. These were my family. They were the people who had my back through everything and loved me unconditionally. I would never be ashamed of them, even though I knew people were going to look at me sideways when I showed up to prom with what they look at as a gang of criminals.

  Mom took my hands and pulled me to my feet handing me an embellished purse with a thick silver chain. She took my skirt and gently tucked it inside with my cell phone, before raising it over my head, so the chain ran over my shoulder and across my body. “Bags like this are good for when you’re riding,” she commented, her fingers running down the chain, her eyes somewhat lost.

  “So now you’re giving me tips about being on the back of a bike?” I asked with a sharp laugh.

  Her eyes came to mine and narrowed. “I’m not stupid, Meyah, I get the attractio
n. I know the kind of rush it gives you.”

  I couldn’t help but smile even though I knew she was trying to hold a hard gaze and pretend like that wasn’t who she was anymore. “You know, I’m sure if you asked, Uncle Leo would—”

  “Don’t even finish that sentence,” she warned, pursing her lips and placing her hand on the small of my back directing me out the front door and onto the porch.

  My eyes lit up, and I grinned out at the street where at least fifteen bikes were lined up at the curb—the chrome sparkling in the street lights. The sun was still casting a hazy hue across the horizon, an orange glow encasing the town in the distance.

  I took a deep breath taking one step at a time down off the porch, my hand gripping the rail, my eyes searching the group of riders for that one person who I was craving to feel wrapped around me, with his voice in my ear reminding me I could do this.

  Emma climbed off the back of Eagle’s bike wearing an outfit that matched mine almost exactly, except for hers was blue. She came up the path toward me, and when no one else followed, my gut sank, and all I wanted to do was turn around and walk back inside.

  Emma raced forward in her heels reaching out to grab my arm before I could back away. “Don’t!” she scolded under her breath. “We are going to do this, and we’re going to have an amazing time.”

  Emma wasn’t exactly the most confident girl around after the hell she’d been put through. There were still times where I would catch her mind going back there to the painful memories taking over the beautiful, fun, and compassionate young woman I’d come to call my best friend. She knew what it was like to be scared. To prefer to sit in a quiet corner on her own as opposed to walking a corridor filled with people.

  Who knew that it would have taken two introverts to finally come together and transform into two gorgeous, confident women?

  Uncle Leo came up behind Emma with a quirk in the corner of his mouth. “I’m beginning to regret agreeing to this,” he drawled, shaking his head. “You do look so damn grown up.”