Savage Ride_A Motorcycle Club Romance_Chained Angels MC

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Savage Ride_A Motorcycle Club Romance_Chained Angels MC Page 8

by Lena Pierce


  “Well, I started here when Griz started the club, so like five years, I guess. But I was with him in another club earlier. I knew his old man.”

  “Oh, his father was in a club, too?” I ask.

  “Mmm-hmmm,” he confirms. “Killed in a turf battle when the kid was a teenager. Good guy.”

  “His mother?” I ask.

  “Died of cancer a few years later,” he says. “Why you so interested in Griz’ life story all of a sudden?”

  “He doesn’t say much,” I say, biting my nails. “He’s hard to read.”

  “Guarded, yes,” Tony confirms. “Been through a lot. Built this club up from nothing. Hard to hang onto power, even when you’ve earned it.”

  “What about his daughter?” I ask.

  “We don’t talk about his daughter. She ain’t part of this, and he wants to keep it that way,” he says tersely.

  “Like you guys left Draven’s daughter out of things?” I ask.

  “Can’t speak for the decisions of others,” he says. “You don’t seem harmed.”

  “I suppose not,” I say.

  He goes back to his work, the chatterbox closed for business for the day.

  Chapter Seven

  Griz

  The Feds have paid me a visit today, asking about two missing teens they believe were escorted to a trafficking ring over the border recently. Thankfully, I am able to genuinely express that I have no knowledge of such a thing and have never seen the girls.

  I’m fucking livid. I knew Spike was working an angle, but teenagers?

  He showed up three hours late to the meeting I ordered him to attend yesterday, and today he’s standing in the corner of my office, smirking as I tell him about the visit.

  “Do you honestly think I don’t know all of the things you’re doing?” I ask.

  “I suspect not,” he says, picking at a fingernail.

  “Then why the fuck do you do them?” I ask.

  “Why not?“ he asks. “It’s fuckin’ boring around here. You think you’re Mister Up-and-Up, but you ain’t above the fray. You just like everybody else in this network. Runnin’ guns, pushin’ drugs. What the fuck’s the difference?”

  “Those girls were teenagers,” I say, teeth gritted so hard I think they might break off in my mouth. “Little girls.”

  “They like ’em young down there,” he says with a shrug. “Client asked for something specific, I got ’im something specific.”

  “You disgust me,” I say. “You get one more chance. Get clean and sober and get in line, or leave this operation.”

  “You need me,” he sneers. “I walk and you ain’t got nobody half as willing to do your dirty work. You wanna act like you’re some kind of saint, some kind of business man. This club is what it is and it means gettin’ a little grease on your lily-white hands every so often.”

  I’m in his face in a heartbeat. “You think I don’t have blood on my hands? Haven’t had to make shitty choices or get dirty while I’ve built this operation? Fuck you. Get out of my sight.”

  He leaves, but not without giving me the finger in one last show of disrespect.

  I sit, staring out the window, watching Tanner float around the pool in a tiny black bikini. She looks like a goddess, blonde hair on top of her head, big round shades covering her eyes. Her lips are pure artistry, pink and soft. Her legs seem eight miles long, toned and lightly tanned. I squirm in my seat, my dick having a moment with the view.

  My cell phone rings and it’s Cary, my sister. Thank god for distractions.

  I grunt a hello.

  “Shannon’s first day of first grade is on Monday. You’re going to take her, right?”

  “Hello to you, too,” I sigh.

  “David, seriously. She needs you to be there for this,” Cary says.

  “I don’t know if I can get away,” I say. “Things are bad here.”

  She’s quiet for a moment. “What’s bad mean?”

  “Rogue VP selling underage girls to traffickers bad,” I say. “Kidnapped daughters of rival club leaders bad.”

  “Shit,” she says. “I told you …”

  “You told me. Yes. Again and again, you’ve told me to pull out, to go legit. I built this club, and I’ll be damned if I see it in the shitter. I have to fix this, Cary. I have to fix it and then I can walk away.”

  “Promises, promises,” she says. “You said you’d leave when you found out Giselle was pregnant.”

  “I’m not having this conversation right now,” I say.

  “Well, I’m not going to be the one who tells your daughter you won’t be seeing her off to her first day of school.”

  “She’s literally been going there all year,” I say.

  “These are memories, David,” she says. “You walk her inside and introduce yourself to the teacher. You take her picture outside the school. You make a fucking effort.”

  “Watch it,” I growl.

  “Don’t tell me to watch it,” she snaps. “I’m not one of your fucking minions. I’m your sister and this is your daughter and we’re the only family you have. Get your head out of your ass.”

  “I love you too,” I say.

  “I’m serious,” she says. I hear noises on the other end of the line and it takes me a minute, but I realize she’s crying.

  “Cary,” I say gently. “What?”

  “I worry about you,” she sniffles. “Dad died in that world. Giselle …”

  “Don’t talk about Giselle,” I warn.

  “You loved her. I loved her. But Shannon never got to know her. Don’t take away her father as well.”

  “I won’t,” I say.

  But I know I shouldn’t make promises I can’t keep.

  # # #

  Tanner

  Well, what a lovely day.

  I spent an hour in the gym, then cooled off by the pool. Which has a bar, a fact Griz did not mention earlier. I drank two of the most lovely, icy, strawberry-y drinks, and woo-hoo, I am feeling pretty damn good right about now.

  I feel a little tipsy, which is cool, but I guess I should find some dinner or something.

  Chef’s got a spread laid out in the dining room, so I grab a plate and go through the line, ignoring the looks I’m getting from the random assortment of men and women in the room. It could be that I’m only wearing a bikini that’s attracting attention. Maybe?

  A lean, brown-haired guy beckons to me from where he sits at a four-top with another young woman. I wander over and ask, “Is there a dress code in this place?”

  He grins, teeth a mess in his mouth. “Nah, not really. I’m Dex.”

  “Tanner,” I say.

  “This is Anna,” he says, gesturing to the young woman next to him. She’s a little plump, with dark hair and green eyes. Kind of a little goth girl. I wonder if she’s even legal. I wonder if she’s a sex worker.

  “Nice to meet you, Anna,” I say, taking a seat.

  “So you’re Griz’, um …” Dex seems not to know what to call me.

  “Prisoner?” I finish, raising my eyebrows and giving him a closed-mouth smile.

  “Well, I guess, maybe, if you wanna call it that,” he says with a shrug. “Seems like you have a lot of freedom for a prisoner, though.”

  “I suppose,” I say, buttering a piece of bread. “I don’t mind it here. There is a pool bar and the drinks are pretty tasty.”

  Anna pipes in as a waitress comes over to fill our glasses with white wine. “Dex says Spike nabbed you and brought you here.”

  “Yes,” I say. “He sure did. Wasn’t nice about it, either.”

  “I’m sorry,” Dex says, looking genuinely apologetic. “He’s a little …”

  “Crazy?” Anna asks.

  “Hey now, we talked about this,” he says. “We don’t talk bad about club leadership in front of other people.”

  Anna rolls her eyes. “Spike is an addict and way crazy to boot. He used to be just a little crazy, which was mostly tolerable. Now …”

  Dex give
s a rueful smile. “He’s a fixer. Griz is the business mind. He needs a guy like Spike, a guy who’s not afraid to do the dirty work.”

  “I don’t get the impression that Griz is afraid to get his hands dirty,” I say. “I mean, from what I’ve experienced so far.”

  Anna says, “He’s not. He beat the ever-loving shit out of Spike two days in a row. He’s killed people. He’s taken a bullet.”

  Dex gives her a warning look. “That was a long time ago.”

  I lean forward. “What was?”

  “Griz took a bullet for a friend about four years back. He was still a mess over Giselle and he was drinking a lot. The club was kind of chaotic because it was still new and he was still so young …”

  “Giselle?” I ask.

  “Griz’ old lady,” Dex explains. “He was just a pup when they met, paid her for all manner of fun and then fell in love with her. Paid to get her out when he found out she was pregnant, but they barely got a few months together because she died having Shannon.”

  “Now who’s talking too much?” Anna asks jokingly. She looks at me. “Griz does not talk about his daughter.”

  “I knew he had one,” I say. “I mean, he told me. Not a lot, but that he had her and her mom had died.”

  “Oh, good,” Dex says. “Then it probably won’t surprise you that he hasn’t had a serious thing since. He loved her a good long time.”

  “Sad,” I say, my heart feeling a little constricted in my chest. I decide to change the subject. “So, do you two live here?”

  Anna laughs. “No, we have an apartment a few blocks away. I’m a nurse at Mercy with Griz’s sister, Cary. Dex works part time at a garage, part time here at the club.”

  “Do you like it?” I ask

  Dex shrugs and makes a “meh” face. “I like being in the club. I’d ride over a cliff for Griz. Some of the other stuff, I could do without.”

  “You’re that loyal to him?” I ask, intrigued.

  “He’s a good man. Built a good club. It’s hard to keep a bunch of testosterone-fueled idiots in line and when one goes rogue, others tend to fall off the wall, too. I’ll stick it out because I like his leadership better than other clubs I’ve ridden with.”

  “Why do you like being in a club?” I ask.

  Dex thinks about this. “Well,” he says, “I like the ride, obviously. But also the brotherhood. Most of these guys would step in front of a bullet for you. It’s exciting to get in a pack and get on the highway toward some deal. I like staring down another crew and walking away with whatever we went for. It’s exciting, I guess.”

  “Dangerous,” Anna says. “But it is nice to feel like you have a place where you belong. This is like a second home, and most of the guys are really good at heart.”

  “I hear you on that. I grew up in a club and my dad always called members his brothers, too. Do you know my dad?” I ask. “Draven Williams?”

  “Mmm-hmmm,” he confirms through a bite of hamburger. “Good guy.”

  “Griz reminds me of what my dad must have been like when he was younger.”

  “I can see that,” Dex says. “Your dad’s club’s too big for me, but I’ve always thought he was a fair dude.”

  “Have you spoken to him since you …” Anna starts the question but doesn’t finish it.

  “No,” I say quickly. “I mean, I only saw Kit when he was here.”

  “Maybe Griz would let you call him?” Anna asks.

  Dex snorts. “That’s not likely.”

  “Why?” Anna asks.

  “Because why the fuck not just send her home, then? He’s got her; he plans to use her. My guess is territory, but he could have other things in mind. He didn’t ask for her, but now that he’s got her? He won’t just pass up an opportunity to get something out of it.”

  “I’m not some piece of property,” I say, not for the first time since I’ve been here.

  “No?” Dex says.

  “No!” I yelp. Heads turn and I feel my face go hot.

  Anna smacks Dex’s arm. He shrugs again and goes back to his sandwich.

  Conversation turns to other subjects and I find myself enjoying the company of Dex and Anna. They’re not too much older than me, I gather. I imagine I could be friends with them if I stayed here with the Chained Angels.

  Eventually, they excuse themselves and say they need to head home.

  I finish my glass of wine and order another, wandering out and down the hallway with it.

  My intent is to find my way back to the room but I take a wrong turn and end up outside of a set of offices. I realize my directional mistake and turn, only to run into a hard body. It’s Spike, stocky and muscular, long-haired. His pupils are huge in his brown eyes.

  “Lookin’ for the boss, then, little slut?” he asks, his big body blocking me from passing. I back up, finding myself with my back against the wall. He cages me in with his arms, his face just a few inches from mine.

  “No, just got turned around after dinner,” I say, refusing to project anything resembling fear. I chug the rest of my wine, ready to smash my glass over his head if I have to.

  His face looks terrible, one eye swollen, nose crooked, two black eyes, lacerations all over. So Anna wasn’t joking. Now I know why Griz’s knuckles were so bruised.

  “Well, it’s good to see you. And I mean, I’m really enjoying seeing you,” he says, looking me up and down. “Nice outfit.”

  I’m not sure what to say to this guy, so I duck out from under his arms, taking a few quick steps to get away from him. He catches up quickly, grabbing the string of my bathing suit top so that it unties, the black fabric falling down, exposing my breasts. He lets out a hooting sound.

  “Knew it would be worth a look-see,” he says, grinning like a maniac. “Them are some lovely little titties. Pair that with that gorgeous mouth that looked so comfortable around boss’s cock and it’s no wonder that fucking uptight bastard wants to keep you all locked up in his room like his personal cunt.”

  I stand firm, trying not to be afraid or intimidated. “You touch me and you know Griz will kill you.”

  “Yeah, I s’pose he would,” Spike says, frowning. He shakes his head. “Guess I’ll just have to dream of your sexy little ass, then.”

  He smacks my ass. “Get gone, then.”

  I don’t waste time getting gone, retying my suit as I scurry away, thankful for whatever fear Griz instilled in his VP the past two days.

  Chapter Eight

  Griz

  Giselle must be looking down on me, thinking what a colossal piece of shit I turned out to be as a father. Fuck. I am fucking up. Not just with Shannon, but with Cary, too.

  My sister is not wrong. We are it for the Grisham family and I know what my death would mean for her, for Shannon. I remember how it felt to see Dad, bleeding, dying, and know that it never would’ve happened if he hadn’t been in the club in the first place. I remember how it felt to lose our mom, too, and thinking there’s literally no fucking God. I was just a teenager. I could’ve turned out a million different ways.

  I thought it a million times. I should get out. Go to college. Get a normal job. Get a wife and a white picket fence. But the allure of metal and rubber and adventure was too strong. And I was literally a child, not even out of high school, when a dark-haired beauty took my virginity for fifty dollars. I knew she wouldn’t ever love me. I was paying her to act like she found me even remotely interesting in bed.

  And then, suddenly, she did find me interesting. We started fucking because we wanted to. We started talking. And like that, my little teenage heart was hers and I was all in hero mode and there was no fucking way that I’d ever make enough money as some fucking accountant or whatever to get her free so we could be together.

  I did whatever I could to make money. Ran errands for club bosses, washed bikes, buried bodies. Eventually, I found myself hearing things, stashing away details, learning from others’ mistakes. People started paying me for secrets and suddenly, I had enoug
h to get her out, and thank fuck, because she was pregnant with my kid.

  I hope someone’s learning from my mistakes now. Because I’m making them.

  I find a bottle of liquor and guzzle about a fourth of it, the liquid burning down the back of my throat. I look at the room around me, all full of pictures that Giselle picked out.

 

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