I turned back to Dom and he nodded and looked away, a look of pride shining in his grey eyes. Before I could say anything else, Casa and Pipes walked in, looking serious.
“Ready?” Casa asked.
He reached out and I shook his hand, pulling him into a rough hug before letting him go. I did the same with Pipes, and then Cutter and Max joined us.
Pipes eyed the prospects before looking at me questioningly. “Think it’s wise?” he asked, and we all knew he wasn’t being disrespectful to me or the prospects. Going in with two or three of us was one thing, but turning up with six or seven brothers—well, we were sending a message, that was for sure.
I nodded. “Yep, think it’s about time we show the other clubs that the Highwaymen aren’t to be fucked with. Hardy said to make sure we were getting our fair cut, but I think we need to be going in and asking for more now that they’ve shown their hand.”
My brothers all watched me, their eyes dark and their expressions grim. They nodded and grunted in agreement.
“I’m thinking we show them what respect really fuckin’ means, and what happens when someone disrespects our club like this.”
I smiled grimly, because it wasn’t what Hardy had asked me to do, but I knew it was the best decision for the club regardless. Hardy was biding his time, readying for retirement. Long after he was gone, the club would still be going, and I needed to secure our position with the other chapters—make sure they really knew not to fuck with us, or try and cut us out of any deals in the future.
“Let’s roll out,” I said, and my brothers followed me out of the clubhouse and to our bikes.
We’d be in downtown Atlanta in under thirty minutes, and then we’d see what was what. I hoped we’d all make it back alive, but none of us were under the illusion that death wasn’t a possibility. But more importantly, after everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours, I’d come to the conclusion that I wouldn’t be letting anyone walk all over the only thing I had left.
And if that meant starting a war, or going head to head with Hardy after all of this, I was ready for that too.
Chapter Seven:
1988
Laney
I had sworn to my mom on her deathbed that I would never get involved with a biker. Yet there I was, living with one, working for a club, and fantasizing about another.
Sure, one was my dad—if you could call him that—and the job part was just while I saved the cash to help me through college, even though Gauge said I didn’t need to worry about that.
But the fantasizing part, that one was all on me.
“Sorry, Mom,” I muttered, swinging my hips as I followed Gauge through the clubhouse.
“You say something, Laney?” Gauge asked, looking back over his shoulder, his dark eyes moving over my face. I could see what my mom had loved about him so much—thick dark hair, dark brooding eyes, and a body made of steel—what wasn’t to like? Of course, I could just as easily see why she hated him too: he was a selfish, womanizing asshole, who only thought with two parts of his body—the hand that was shooting, and his dick that was fucking.
My mom’s heart never stood a chance against him.
I scowled at him. “Yeah, I said ‘fuck off and die,’” I snapped and stalked away from Gauge.
“Fucking bitch!” he called as I stormed away.
“Eat shit, asshole!” I yelled back. I held up my middle finger to him without bothering to turn around, and I could barely contain my grin when I heard some of his club brothers laughing at him.
Good.
I hated him. I still had no idea why my mom had thought I would be better off living with him than with any of her friends. I was a capable woman, and I’d once been a capable child. I could handle my own, and what I couldn’t handle, her friends had always helped me with. Sure, they were all prostitutes, but they were people too—good people—and they loved me like a daughter.
Gauge mumbled something in return, but he’d backed down—which was good, because I was lucky in that I got both my mom’s and my dad’s stubbornness, and Gauge never won a fight against me. Ever. Stubborn genes and the perks of living with a group of strong, independent women: I wasn’t afraid to stick up for myself.
I passed by Pops at the bar and gave him a little wave. He was looking sick, I realized. Not just old, but actually sick. His paper-thin skin was sallow and pale, and his eyes didn’t hold that spark like they once had.
“Everything okay?” I asked him, pausing before I went through to the kitchen.
Pops raised a beer bottle in my direction. “Never been better.” He grinned, but it was obvious he was full of shit and not feeling good at all.
“Maybe hold back on the beer today, and let me grab you a coffee instead, huh?” I asked, genuinely concerned.
He scowled at me. “Next you’ll be offering me some green tea and some brown fucking rice to help keep my blood pressure down! I’m fine, girl, now leave me to my beer!”
I rolled my eyes. “All right! No need to be a dick about it, Pops!” I snapped back and pushed open the swinging door to the kitchen. No point in arguing with a man intent on killing himself. Because that’s what was happening, though no one else seemed to notice. Either that or they weren’t too concerned by it. But I’d seen that type of thing once before. I was little—real little—but the image still haunted me even now.
The kitchen was a hive of noise when I walked inside. Some of the old ladies were already there working on fixing a large meal for everyone. Gauge had said that there was a big meet that night—a couple of different clubs meeting up to party and discuss business. He said he’d be getting a prospect to drop me off at home later, before the party started, but for the time being he wanted to know exactly where I was and what I was up to. The safest place for me was apparently there.
Silvie—Hardy’s girlfriend—looked up and smiled. “Get your skinny butt over here and help me out, Laney.”
I smiled back, because I liked her—always had—and I really hoped that Hardy intended on keeping her around. He hadn’t made her his official old lady yet, but all the men knew to keep their hands off of her or they’d lose them to one of Hardy’s butcher knives. That man did not like people messing with his stuff, and whether Silvie was wearing Hardy’s patch or not, she was definitely something of his.
I made my way over to her, shrugging out of my black hoodie and dropping it onto an empty work surface before taking the knife she handed me. I continued chopping up the steaks she was prepping, while she seasoned them and put them on a big plate ready to be barbequed later that night.
She leaned in and kissed the side of my face, and I blushed. “How you doing, sweetheart? We haven’t seen you for a while,” she asked, walking to one of the cupboards and opening it.
Silvie was a beautiful woman, in a classical sense. She didn’t wear much makeup because she didn’t need it. She had thick long dark hair, and dark brown eyes which were always practically covered by her thick bangs.
“I’m good,” I replied, really not wanting to go into details. My life was pretty much an open book, thanks to the club. It was like being part of a small town, and everyone knew everyone else’s business. And of course, everyone always had an opinion. The only things private were the things I kept locked up inside my head, and I was certain that Gauge wanted to know those thoughts too. As I’d gotten older, he’d got worse, always stating that I needed to cover up because he’d end up going to prison for murder due to the way other men were looking at me.
River and Charlie, two of the other old ladies, came out of the big walk-in pantry giggling. Their eyes lit up when they saw me and I smiled over at them.
“That dad of yours still riding your ass about school?” Silvie asked.
“Yeah,” I groaned, though if I was going to be completely honest with Silvie—which I wasn’t going to be, of course—I was glad Gauge was riding my ass about school all the time. At least when he did that it felt like I had a real dad a
nd I wasn’t really all alone in the world.
We’d been visiting colleges over the past couple of weeks, and I couldn’t help but get a little excited about the prospect, though of course I kept that shit under wraps. I didn’t want Gauge thinking he was doing a good thing for me. He might have started getting the wrong idea and thinking he was doing a good job of raising me—which he wasn’t.
“School is important,” River—Axle’s old lady—called over.
I scowled at her, but she saw right through me.
“Don’t look at me like that. You’re getting older, and the boys have been looking at you like you’re something to fuck for far too long. The fear of Gauge’s wrath won’t put them off much longer. You need a plan if this isn’t what you want for your life, because before you know it, this club will suck you in and never let you go. Or worse, it’ll spit you right back out.” She brushed her blond hair away from her eyes and smiled sincerely.
“As if any of the men here would be stupid enough to dump her fine ass after getting a taste!” Rose replied as she came into the kitchen. She winked at me as she dumped some groceries on the counter. “Besides, ain’t nothing wrong with this life.”
“It can’t always be about getting drunk and hooking up, Rose,” River scolded, glaring at Rose.
Charlie—Rider’s old lady—snorted out a laugh and we all turned to look at her. She looked up sheepishly, but couldn’t contain her laugh.
“What? River, I’m pretty sure your motto in high school used to be ‘this life is all about getting drunk and hooking up,’” Charlie snorted on another laugh.
“What the fuck, Charlie? You’re supposed to be on my side,” River laughed back and threw a dish towel at her.
Charlie laughed again, her cheeks blushing red. She wasn’t much of a talker, though I suspected she’d loosen up once she got to know everyone a little more. She’d only been with Rider a couple of months, and I knew more than anyone how over-the-top this life could feel when you weren’t used to it. Though to look at her, she just screamed biker bitch. Heavily done makeup, a piercing through her septum, plus the tattoos she had going down both arms—yeah, she was made for this life; she just didn’t know it until recently.
I hadn’t known that Charlie and River had known each other back in high school, though. That was definitely news to me—and to Silvie, by the looks of her expression. I’d kind of pieced together that Rose and River had known each other previously, but I guess it shouldn’t have come as too much of a surprise, since the town was so small.
River rolled her eyes. “Fine, getting drunk and hooking up is all well and good, but only when you’re someone’s old lady. Up until that point you’re no better than one of the club whores around here, and you know how fondly we think of those bitches.” She winked at me, her gaze sliding snidely over to Rose, who shook her head and left the room.
“Well, I don’t have much say in it anyway. Gauge says I have to go, so it’s been decided,” I replied soberly, feeling guilty for how River had just spoken to Rose. Rose was a good woman—beautiful, reliable, and loyal. I had no idea why she hadn’t ever been made into someone’s old lady, or why she stuck around. Club girls came and went all the time. Once they realized they weren’t going to be wearing someone’s patch, they took off. Or they went working in the club’s strip club, The Pit. But not Rose.
There was a long story there, but I figured I’d probably never hear it.
“So, when do you start?” Silvie asked.
“This fall,” I fake groaned.
Silvie reached over and squeezed my shoulders. “You’re going to do great,” she said. “I guess we won’t get to see too much of you, though.”
I groaned again, sounding every bit of my eighteen years. “I bet you will. I’ll be home every weekend, apparently.” I put down the knife I was using, thinking I might throw it at Gauge if he came in the room right then.
“Wait, what?” River asked. “So he’s sending you away to college, but you have to come home every weekend?”
“Uh huh,” I grumbled. “It’s like he doesn’t want me to have a life.”
“Or he wants to make sure you have a life and don’t waste it,” Silvie said kindly.
“Stop being so motherly, bitch,” River snapped, pointing a red-nailed finger at Silvie. “Laney needs to get laid at some point, and the best college parties are Friday nights. Gauge can’t be serious in making her come home every weekend and miss out on all those hot college boys!”
River genuinely looked annoyed for me, which only fueled the hilarity of the situation. She was right—I’d never get laid if Gauge kept me under lock and key constantly, though I wasn’t too concerned about missing out. After all, there were men that I’d rather spend my time with at the clubhouse than at college. Unfortunately, he was pretty much out of bounds, since Gauge had given me a no biker clause when I first moved in with him. I’d agreed at the time, not realizing the severity of my decision, or that several years later, biker would be the only thing that would do it for me.
Charlie and Silvie were still laughing about the unfortunateness of my situation when Gauge came into the kitchen. They cracked up even more when River glared at him.
“What the fuck did I do now?” he grumbled. He glanced over at me. “What did you say?”
“Don’t look at me. I was just telling them how you expected me to be a virgin until the day I died,” I smarted.
“Not till the day you die, just until you don’t live with me anymore!” he grumbled back, and I just bet he was blushing beneath that dark beard of his too. Good.
“This is unacceptable, Gauge!” River said, heading toward him, one hand on her hip and her red-tipped finger now directed at him and not Silvie. “A girl as pretty as Laney deserves to be—”
Gauge lifted a hand up to River. “Don’t want to hear this shit right now, River!”
“Well I don’t care. You need to hear it, so listen up!”
I grinned when Gauge looked over at me helplessly, because what could I say? I liked to make him suffer. And listening to one of River’s lengthy tirades was definitely going to make him suffer.
Axle walked into the kitchen at that moment, blissfully unaware of the drama unfolding until he took in the scene before him. He quickly stepping into River’s path.
“Woah, baby, what’s up?” He wrapped his arms around her waist and roughly pulled her body flush against his when she tried to get away.
“Gauge is a pig,” she mumbled as Axle leaned down and pressed his mouth to hers, and Gauge took that as his cue to shoot me an evil glare.
“I know, baby, I know,” Axle replied. “Total pig.” He kissed along her jawbone and she practically mewled as his hands grabbed hold of her ass and squeezed. “Want me to shoot him for you?”
“Uh huh,” she mumbled against his mouth, her hands moving to his hair, where she threaded her fingers through his thick hair.
“Thanks a fucking lot, brother,” Gauge mumbled and headed back out of the kitchen as quickly as possible.
Everyone made themselves busy as River and Axle made out like a couple of college kids, and when the heavy panting got too much and Silvie looked like she might ask either them or us to leave the kitchen to get some privacy, Axle hoisted her up over his shoulder and carried her laughing and screaming from the room.
I turned to look at Charlie and Silvie. They looked at each other, grins on both of their faces and a glint in their eyes that showed me I was missing out on something—something I always would be missing out on unless I got myself an old man like one of these. A pretty college boy wasn’t going to kiss me like that, or carry me away to fuck me like that. No, a pretty college boy was going to take me home to meet his mom and dad, and then what? Then I got to introduce Gauge as my dad? Maybe tell them the tale about how he met my mom, the beautiful hooker from Cali, and how he left her high and dry once he’d had what he needed, but now he had to take some responsibility for me because Mom was dead and he was all
I had left in the world?
Fuck, no.
That wasn’t going to be my life, and no pretty college boy would be good enough for me.
I knew exactly what I wanted, and I knew who I wanted.
Unfortunately, it was the same biker that had been avoiding me for the past two years.
Chapter Eight:
1988
Laney
The party was in full swing, and I knew that at any moment Gauge was going to ask me to leave, so I was doing what any rational teenage girl would do: I was hiding.
It was ridiculous, really. I should not have been hiding at a party. Even if it was a biker party that I wasn’t technically invited to. I should have been out there, drinking and having fun with the rest of the women. Instead I was hiding in the kitchen with a bottle of beer I’d managed to get from behind the small bar area.
I unscrewed the lid and drank a quarter of it down before needing to belch. The door to the kitchen swung open and I heard Silvie humming as she walked to the pantry to get another tray of buns for the barbeque.
She saw me sitting on the floor and gave a little scream before I had chance to hush her, and a couple of seconds later I heard Hardy come into the kitchen.
“What the fuck was that?” he snapped.
I held a finger to my lips and Silvie nodded and walked out the way she’d just come in. “I thought I saw a spider,” she lied easily. “False alarm. Go back to the party, Hardy.”
It was silent for a couple of moments before I heard him speak. “Everything okay with you, Silv? You’ve been quiet all week.” He breathed out a heavy sigh, and I wondered what bothered him more—the fact that she was keeping secrets from him or the fact that she seemed unhappy. Hardy was true to his name in every sense of the word—he was hard. And mean. And definitely cruel. Yet I had seen a softness with him when he was around Silvie, and I wasn’t sure what to make of that.
Ride or Die 1 Page 8
