Dark Vow (Dark Saints MC Book 1)

by Jayne Blue

  Will you just call Mom already? Tell her whatever you want, but I’m tired of dealing with her.

  I pressed the phone to my chest and sat next to Gordon. He’d been a stray who followed me home from my last job at the Port Az convenience store a few months ago. He rubbed his head against my thigh, waiting for an ear scratch. I obliged and answered my brother’s text.

  I’m in class all day and I work tonight. I don’t have time for it, Josh. My answer hasn’t changed. It’s your time in the barrel now.

  I added a heart emoji and hit send. Until last August, Josh had been the absent one. He’d gone to college in Ann Arbor and married Marci, one of his classmates. She was no-nonsense and straightforward. Marci wouldn’t put up with my parents’ neediness. But Josh had been too stupid to see how good she was for him. She caught him cheating on her a year ago and kicked him out. I figured Mom and Dad’s bullshit could be part of Josh’s penance. Count me out.

  I waited a few seconds and got a middle finger emoji from Josh. I powered off my phone again and headed out for class, tucking my Cups uniform in my backpack. I wouldn’t have time to come home and change. I just needed a nice, focused, drama-free day.

  I should have known wishing for it would jinx me.

  After a full day of classes, I hopped the bus back to Port Azrael and the restaurant. The evening started off fine. Cups was packed as usual and Aimee, the chief hostess, was finally trusting me with more tables. By eight o’clock I already had a hundred bucks in my pocket with a big group getting seated in my section at eight thirty. I was just getting their table set up with menus and silverware when Cory headed for me with a grim look on his face.

  “Boss wants to see you,” he said, jerking his chin toward the office door.

  “Now? I’m seating forty in about fifteen minutes.”

  “Leave it,” Cory said. “Boss says let Char or Lori handle it. You can take them next time.”

  My shoulders dropped. “Are you kidding? Is he kidding? I’m not giving up over a hundred-dollar tip, Cory. What did I do?”

  Cory shrugged. “I’m just the messenger. But I wouldn’t keep Mr. DiSalvo waiting.”

  Mr. DiSalvo. No one called him that. He was Junior since the second I started working here. I wondered what gave. I just prayed whatever it was wouldn’t take more than five minutes. I’d earned that forty top, dammit.

  Straightening my skirt, I headed into Junior DiSalvo’s office. He sat with his feet on the desk barking into his cell phone. He waved me over to a chair in front of him and made a big show of rolling his eyes and gesturing so I knew what he thought of the caller on the other end.

  Junior had been nice enough to me and he’d given the final go-ahead on my hiring. But the guy was kind of a creep. He barely took the time to learn any of the waitresses’ names and when he came out to the main floor he wanted us all to jump around serving him. Usually he only did that when some other prominent business person or friend of his came into the bar. The guy was on a power trip, no question.

  Junior hung up the phone and smiled at me, but it didn’t reach his dark eyes. He wore a purple silk dress shirt with a matching tie. He kept the top two buttons undone so a thatch of his chest hair spilled out. He had a gold Rolex on his wrist and twirled a ruby-studded ring on his right hand.

  “You wanted to see me?” I started. Junior didn’t seem to be in any hurry get to the point. His face split into a sneer as he looked me up and down. I didn’t like it one bit and hoped I wasn’t in for another prickly situation like the one I’d had with his Uncle Frank last night. Frank was one thing, Junior, I’d heard, had a temper.

  “You settling in all right, Maria?” he asked.

  “Maya,” I corrected him, clearing my throat.

  “Sure. Right. Maya. Of course. The customers like you. I’ve had some special requests.”

  My blood turned cold. It might just have been my imagination, but he seemed to draw out the word special.

  “Great. Actually, I’ve got a forty top getting seated right now. Is there something you need from me? I don’t want to make them wait.”

  Junior waved a dismissive hand. “Sure. One of the other girls can get that started for you. I just wanted to make sure we were on the same page with something.”

  “Oh? Shoot.”

  Junior popped his feet off his desk and leaned forward. His skin had an almost orange glow from too much tanning. He wasn’t very old. Maybe thirty. He tried to project an air of gravitas I don’t think he’d earned. Rumor was, his parents had handed him this bar to run in an attempt to keep him out of trouble.

  “You ever heard of the Dark Saints M.C.?” he asked and my breath left me.

  “Just in passing,” I answered. My guard went up and I felt oddly protective of Axle. He’d been nice to me last night. Sure, I could have handled Frank on my own, but it was nice to know somebody else recognized it for the bullshit it was. “You know I haven’t lived in Port Azrael very long. I’m still trying to get the literal lay of the land.”

  Junior nodded. “Good. That’s good. You should be cautious. I’m asking because one of the other girls mentioned she saw you talking to a member of that club after work last night. Is that true?”

  I didn’t like his line of questioning one bit. I also didn’t like the idea that someone had been talking to him behind my back about something that did or didn’t happen when I was off the clock. Instinct told me to just smile sweetly and keep that argument to myself for now.

  “I went home after work last night, Junior. I’m not sure what you’re insinuating, but I really do need to get back to the floor.”

  Junior leaned even further forward and put a hand on my shoulder. His skin was hot and sweaty against my bare skin. I stayed still as stone, not wanting to betray my revulsion with a flinch.

  “Just be careful who you associate with,” he said. “You’re newish in town so I’m going to do you a favor and tell you that to your face. I don’t need any of my girls making time with any of the Saints. It’s bad for business and bad for you. We clear?”

  I felt like I was trying to swallow needles. I wasn’t Junior DiSalvo’s girl. What I did or didn’t do on my own time was none of his business. But it occurred to me that less than twenty-four hours ago, Axle had basically given me the same warning about Junior, minus trying to claim me as his property. I don’t know why I felt an instinctual need to defend Axle to somebody like Junior, but that rose up in me too.

  I smiled and started to get up to leave. Junior pressed his hand harder against my shoulder, forcing me back into my chair.

  “I’m serious,” he said. “And I’m doing you a favor, honey. The Dark Saints are bad news. I’d hate to see a pretty little thing like you ruining yourself over one of those thugs.”

  “Thanks,” I said. I pushed back, daring Junior to get even more physical. And I’d be damned if I’d let him think he could push me around, literally or physically. That’s exactly how guys like him operated. If I showed even the slightest sign of weakness, I knew I could expect more of the same from him. In that, he was just like his lecherous uncle. I edged my chair away from the desk and rose to my feet.

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” I said, turning on my heel. I wasn’t afraid that he’d actually hurt me, not then. In little more than forty-eight hours, I’d have a major change of heart on that score.

  Chapter 4

  Axle

  Tucked into the woods off the rural highway skirting Port Azrael, most people passed right by the Dark Saints clubhouse without even knowing it was there. That’s the way Bear liked it. The building I called sanctuary was nothing more than an L-shaped, flat-roofed, one-story brick building painted black. There was no signage, no fancy letters to indicate what went on back here. You couldn’t even see the chop shop and junkyard we ran right away. That was all further down the dirt road into the woods behind the main building.

  The place looked abandoned and that was also how Bear liked it. We parked our bikes in the back so
they couldn’t be seen from anyone lost enough to wander back here. We had the place wired with security cameras for when they did, but we hardly needed it. As I slowed my bike and drove it around back, Rufus, our pitt-shepherd club dog, came bounding through the woods to greet me. Rufus had sad brown eyes, crooked ears; the left one didn’t lay flat on account of the jagged chunk torn out of it from a fight he got into as a puppy. As soon as Rufus recognized me, his fearsome growl turned into a yelp of joy. He skidded on his front paws waiting for me to dismount and scratch his chin.

  “You smell like shit,” I said, running my hand over his hard, domed head. “Mama’s never going to let you inside like that.” When he wasn’t watching over the junkyard and the club, Rufus was usually traipsing through the woods looking for squirrels or rabbits or whatever he could sink his teeth into. A few times a week we’d find his mangled quarry at the back door, left there as a tribute.

  “You’re goddamned right I’m not!” Rising, I turned to find Mama Bear standing in the back door with her hands on her hips and her pale blue eyes flashing. Her real name was Josie Bullock, only nobody but Bear himself dared call her that. To the rest of us, she was always Mama or Mama Bear. At five feet two, she weighed about a buck twenty but most of that was hard muscle. Her short-cropped hair had gone completely white by the time she was thirty and she blamed Bear for it. I’m sure there was truth to it, but Mama had done ten years in the army as a medic, serving a lot of it in the Middle East. She got out right after Desert Storm.

  “Awe, show Roofie some love, Mama,” I said. Smiling, I leaned down and kissed her on the cheek as she swatted my arm.

  “You smell about as bad as the dog, baby,” she said. “I don’t even wanna know what the hell you’ve been rollin’ in.”

  “You’re breakin’ my heart,” I teased her. “You know I’m still your favorite.”

  Mama waved a dismissive hand but her hard gaze turned into a smile. “Maybe, but you’re gonna be on Bear’s shit list if you don’t get your ass inside.”

  My face fell. “Church start without me?”

  Mama put her hand on my cheek again. “He’s in a mood.”

  I gave her a gruff nod and kissed the top of her head. Mama squeezed my shoulder as I brushed past her. She started in on Rufus with a stream of cursing as she tried to corner him. Rufus let out a howl of protest as she caught him by the scruff of his neck and walked him over to the hose on the side of the building.

  Walking into the dimly lit clubhouse, only a couple of the prospects greeted me at the bar. The newest, Toby, jerked his chin at me and pointed to the closed door at the back of the room.

  “Full house?” I asked.

  Toby raised his beer bottle and nodded. He was a good kid, just out of high school. Like me, he grew up in the system with a shitbird for a father and a dope fiend for a mother. He’d spent some time in juvenile hall for petty shit until he started hanging around the club. Like all new prospects, he was eager to prove himself. I worried he was a little too eager so I’d kind of made a project out of him lately. He knew his way around an engine so I tried to keep him busy out in the salvage yard for now. That plan wouldn’t last forever and soon I’d have to test him on the road.

  I patted Toby on the back. “How’s the rebuild going on the F-250?”

  “Just finished the carb,” he said.

  “Good. Lay off the beer and get your ass out there later today. I’ll see what’s what.”

  Toby sat up a little straighter and looked guilty as he set his beer on the counter. Until I found him, the kid never had anyone holding him accountable. No dad, no coach, nothing. The minute he did, he took to it. I rarely had to tell him anything twice and he usually went over and above whatever I asked him to do. I just hoped we hadn’t gotten to him too late. Sometimes the lure of earning that patch can make a kid like Toby get in over their heads. That little shit Slade crossed my mind. He’d been too eager to impress the Devils Hawks by going after one of our members. I wouldn’t let the same thing happen to Toby. Although, right now, I’d put the over-under on him patching in versus doing time at 50/50.

  My booted footsteps fell heavy as I approached the closed door at the back of the clubhouse. I knocked exactly twice, to let the men behind it know it was me before opening the door and stepping inside.

  Bear sat at the head of a long wooden table. Like his wife, he had a shock of white hair, though he wore his long, clubbed in the back. He fingered his beard and raised a brow as I walked in.

  “You’re late,” he said, his voice gruff and sharp. I dropped my head in deference. I knew Bear’s irritation would be short-lived. He cared more about getting shit done than busting my balls over a few minutes of his time. Still, I took the message, apologized, then sat in the only empty chair at the table next to Kade. He squeezed my shoulder when I sat down.

  E.Z. Watson, our club V.P., started talking again. It was mostly good news. No trouble at any of the drops this week. Our clients along the docks seemed happy. We’d heard no real rumblings from our main rivals, the Devils Hawks, since that bullshit with Slade, but we knew he’d acted rogue. With him dispatched, things would settle. Everyone at this table knew that wouldn’t hold forever, but we’d take whatever patch of peace we got when it came. Earlier in the year, I’d taken a meeting with our allies, the Great Wolves M.C. They held the territory in Florida on the other side of the Gulf. We had reason to believe at least one of the drug cartels across the border would make a play soon enough to try and move their product through one of our ports, but for now, even that shit seemed locked down.

  “What about you?” Bear asked, locking eyes with me. “Everything go okay with Junior this week?”

  I considered the question and how best to respond. My personal views about Junior DiSalvo were well known to the other eleven men sitting at this table. Most of them shared them. But business was business and Bear didn’t like us looking for drama. I pulled Junior’s envelope out of my pocket and lobbed it across the table to Maddox, our club Maddoxurer. He opened it and quickly flipped through the bills inside. He gave a nod to Bear, letting him know there were no surprises. Bear looked pleased and started to move the conversation to other matters.

  “Bear,” I said, clearing my throat. “Look, I don’t wanna make waves where we don’t need ’em, but I think Junior’s going to be a problem down the road. Maybe sooner rather than later.”

  “Sheeit,” E.Z. said. “That little fuck doesn’t have the stomach or the balls to do much damage.”

  “E.Z.’s got a point, Axle,” Bear said. “You got something solid to bring to the table? His envelope’s full.”

  I knew he wasn’t going to like what I had to say, but it needed saying. “For now. He started beating his chest about a renegotiation. When I told him he’d need to take that up with you, he backed off. But I got the impression the power he thinks he’s got is starting to get to his head.”

  Bear’s dark laughter echoed off the walls. “E.Z.’s right. That little shit doesn’t have the sack to go up against us for real.”

  “Maybe not,” I said. “But he’s incompetent enough to be dangerous in other ways. I called his bluff on the renegotiation of our contract. I just don’t like what I saw going on in that bar the other night. He’s letting Frank help himself to the girls. He’s got shit for bouncers. If something bad went down there, Junior doesn’t have his shit straight enough to handle it. Somebody’s gonna get hurt. If Cups goes under or gets a bad rep, that’s bad for everybody.”

  “You’re right,” Bear said. “You know Gino wanted our guys on the premises around the clock for that very reason. But like it or not, we’re not dealing with Gino right now.”

  “You really think Junior’s the one calling the shots for the DiSalvo family now that his old man is down for the count?”

  Bear sat back in his chair. “Fuck, no. I think Gino’s old lady is doing that except she doesn’t want that getting out. In a family like that, it would make ’em look weak. Hell, I woul
dn’t be surprised if Christine DiSalvo was calling most of the shots even before Gino hit the mat. But now it’s delicate.”

  “Right,” Deacon said. Deacon Wade was our club chaplain. He wasn’t a real man of the cloth but for a while he’d tried to be until something turned him away from it. “So how the hell do we get word to her what Junior’s doing without letting on that you know it?”

  “We don’t,” Bear said. His tone was blunt and final and my heart sank a little. I couldn’t help thinking about Maya. If Junior wasn’t held in check, the people around him were gonna get hurt one way or the other. I’d already tipped him off to the fact that girl was on my radar. That could be a mistake or put her in a worse bind than she would have been otherwise. Junior was just petty enough to jerk my chain by messing with her. Just the thought of him looking at her every night made my blood simmer. Shit. Maybe I did need to blow off steam with one of the banger chicks. They were always easy and eager to please.

  “Bear, due respect,” I started. “But what’s the point of spending our resources keeping the riff-raff away from Cups if Junior’s just going to tear it down by himself? I think we need to send him a stronger message.”

  A rumble of unease snaked its way around the table. Bear’s eyes went stone cold. The man was the closest thing I had to a father. He’d taken me in when I was only sixteen years old and living with my grandmother after more than a decade in shitty foster care. If it hadn’t been for him and this club, I’d be dead by now. I knew that with every beat of my heart. I lived, breathed, and would die for the men at this table, including Bear. It didn’t mean I wouldn’t point it out when I thought he was wrong. Right now, I knew he was. I’d seen the look in Junior’s eyes.

  Bear’s face softened. Leaning forward, he folded his hands together and rested them on the table.

  “You’re right,” he said. “Junior is going to be a problem. Eventually. He’s a fuck-up, but for now he’s a necessary fuck-up. I believe in my heart it’s his mama who’s trying to hold the family business together with her bare hands. We force one of those hands too soon, we’re going to have a bigger mess to deal with than we’re ready for yet. We need the DiSalvos up and running. They go down, we could go down. Shit, this whole town would be ripe for the plucking. But I hear what you’re saying. It’s noted. If Junior does anything else stupid like trying to lighten his weekly load with us, we’ll deal with it. The girls are another matter. You see one of ’em about to get hurt, you do what you gotta do. As far as the rest of it, we’re going to have to let the market play out a little while longer. If Junior gets a reputation for shitty treatment, the girls won’t stick around. The kid’s a dipshit, but he likes money well enough. For now I’m going to trust that’s enough to keep him from being completely stupid. We clear?”