Crossover: Devil's Due MC and Vipers Creed MC Prequel

by Chelsea Camaron

  “Well, what?” Deacon asks, picking up his burger.

  “What else?” X barks with his jaw ticking anxiously.

  “Nothing else. That’s what I got. We eat, ride out to Dyersburg, and see what we can find,” Deacon, ever steady, says, continuing to eat as if he didn’t change the entire course of X’s past.

  Just when I think, I will be able to leave Tennessee behind for a while, I get sucked back in.

  Dyersburg, here we come. I hope we can solve Hadley’s shit. After all, when the devil demands his due, nothing and no one will stand in our way.

  Chapter Eight

  ~Dover~

  The ride from Cloverfield to Dyersburg is only a few hours. However, riding in the wind and rain as it pelts down in large drops is miserable. We get in around nine, all of us ready to eat. After a quick check in at Dunnes Inn, we are taking a cruise to the diner on Main Street, Charlie’s Diner.

  It’s like a retro café of sorts. With the old hubcaps on the walls and the metal tables, it’s a throwback to a better time. The smell of fried food assaults our noses, and Trapper’s belly growls loudly. I swear the man could eat triple his weight and still be fucking hungry.

  We take a seat at an open table to the left. The space is empty for the night. Then again, it’s a Tuesday in a small town, so I imagine not much happens here normally.

  I hear a male’s voice grumble from the back kitchen, and it’s only seconds later when a dark-haired waitress struts over, sticking her large breasts out.

  We are dirty, tired, wet, and hungry. We are also men. If this chick keeps it up, she’s going to have more on her plate than our food.

  With a smack of her gum, she hands us our menus. The lamination is worn, and the specials are all crossed out, but there is a certain down-home appeal I bet all the locals love about this joint.

  “Hello, boys, name is Mitzi, and I’m happy to take care of ya tonight.” She adds a wink at the end to no one in particular.

  “Pulled pork barbeque sandwich and fries,” Deacon immediately gives her his order and tosses his menu toward the end of the table.

  “Burger, fries, and key lime pie,” Judge follows up.

  I place my menu over theirs. “Pork tenderloin plate.”

  “Same,” X adds with his gaze off in some far away thought. He hasn’t been right since reading the emails.

  “I’ll take a sample of your neck, a meal of your breasts, and that prime pussy for dessert,” Trapper lays out for Mitzi.

  The door opens, and the air shifts. Mitzi throws up a hand in greeting while another waitress steps out from the back and tells them to take a seat wherever they would like.

  I watch as four men enter the diner and make their way toward us. More specifically, four big-ass bikers.

  Oh, hell, this isn’t about territory, guys.

  I shake my head, but they continue their approach. A quick read of their patches and I know we are dealing with a prez by the name of Spook; a VP that goes by Boner; a bald, pissed as hell fucker named Stiff; and an old man named Dawg.

  I lift my hands to let them know we aren’t here for trouble. Well, not trouble with them, anyway.

  “State your business,” Dawg orders, looking at me.

  “Passing through.”

  “Pack up and pass on through, then,” Spook chimes in.

  The other waitress comes around from behind the counter, and I watch as Stiff and Boner both turn their attention to her, ensuring her safety.

  “We’ll be in the corner tonight, Chelsea,” the one named Boner informs as Stiff turns his attention back to us.

  “Got something to take care of, and then we’ll be gone soon enough,” Rowdy explains.

  Dawg looks at his brothers. Then he turns to the side, giving me a view of the dual snakes’ insignia and the words Vipers Creed on the back of his cut. He shakes his head at them.

  We aren’t getting a pass. Fuck!

  Spook steps over to stand behind Trapper. Hell, this could go bad fast. Trapper is unpredictable at best.

  “Devil’s Due, huh?” Spook reads Trapper’s cut. “Nomads, huh? You’re in the wrong place.”

  “No, I do believe we’re in Dyersburg, Tennessee, which is the right place for what we need,” Trapper smarts off, and we all prepare to fight.

  One day, he is going to get us all killed by running his damn mouth. We didn’t come here to cause trouble, but we damn sure won’t back down.

  Spook stares me down. Our eyes lock.

  “Just looking for someone. We find them, and we’re out. We don’t find them, and we’re out,” I explain.

  “Well, the problem with this plan of yours is you aren’t welcome here,” Stiff says, brushing past us to go sit at his table. He doesn’t turn around as he speaks, “Leave or get thrown out. Either way, you gotta go.”

  “I ordered an appetizer, dinner, and dessert, and I’m gonna be tired after that, so maybe tomorrow, we’ll find our way down the road. Maybe not,” Trapper continues adding fuel to the fire building between our club and theirs.

  Deacon looks at the men one by one, sizing them up. “Marker. You get a marker from us. One. Call it in anytime, and we handle it. No questions asked.”

  Spook laughs. “What the fuck kind of marker do I want from a bunch of nomad, no place to call home, fuckers that have come to my town?”

  “Hey, hey, hey, homeless peeps are useful. Don’t knock it till you try it,” Trapper jokes as if he doesn’t have a care in the world.

  “Shut the hell up, Trapper,” X warns. “Look, I have a woman from my past. Heard she was here. We want a meal, sleep, and tomorrow, if I don’t find her, we ride on. You have less than twenty-four hours to deal with us.”

  Well, that’s more information than I ever planned to give the guys, but Spook seems to be thinking it over.

  “Twenty-four hours. You got till nine tomorrow night to get the fuck outta my town and don’t look back. I get each of your numbers, and I get a marker. One marker, anytime, no matter what I need. I call; you answer. No questions.”

  I nod my head in agreement as do Deacon, X, Judge, Rowdy, and finally Trapper.

  We may have just made a deal with the devil himself, but it doesn’t matter. Hadley’s in deep, and X needs to sort this part of his past out. This is what we do.

  Chapter Nine

  ~Dover~

  Sirens isn’t far from the Inn. The doors open at seven, and spotlights begin an hour later. It’s the only strip club in the area, and X said, outside of money on her back, Hadley doesn’t know how else to make a living. At least we aren’t chasing our tails, wondering what she would be doing. But how does the little girl he grew up on the streets with land herself here of all places? It’s a hole in the wall kind of town, and from what we have learned since last night, it’s run by Vipers Creed and some guy named the Colonel.

  The shit Deacon dug up on both entities isn’t something that should leave the citizens of Dyersburg feeling safe at night. Then again, the right side of the law and the wrong side blur more and more with every passing moment.

  At the door, a tall fucker checks identification. We pay to enter then find a table near the stage. There are no updated pictures of Hadley on any social media sites. According to the government records, no Hadley Combs has filed or paid taxes, owned property, or existed beyond her birth certificate and assigned social security number. She doesn’t even have school records, which X already informed us.

  How do you find someone who doesn’t want to be found and barely ever existed?

  My phone pings with an email, another flagged email from the previous address. This shit is getting frustrating, especially when Trapper, the master hacker, can’t seem to find a locked ISP address on the email.

  Subject Line: Trixie Lamasters.

  With a click on the screen, the light of my phone illuminates the space around us as the email opens.

  She’s seen Hadley.

  My
emotions run rampant. If this fucker is playing games with X’s past, then he better hide where we can never find him. Cryptic messages with breadcrumb trails never sit well with me and my brothers.

  When I hand my phone to Deacon and Trapper, they both begin their own searches into the name.

  I look at my watch, knowing our time is running out. If the Vipers Creed club shows up, we will have no choice but to push back if they want to push us out of town. Dammit, I hate this shit.

  A man knows his place. This isn’t our town, and they aren’t our target. I respect the life they lead, but I can’t turn my back on X or Hadley if she’s in too deep, even if we don’t know what she’s really into yet.

  A waitress comes to get our drink orders, and Trapper is the first to speak up.

  “I’ll take a buttery nipple, as in your nipple out of that corset top, glistening from my saliva like melted butter.” He holds up a fifty-dollar bill like he can really order sexual favors.

  I laugh when I should probably kick him under the table, but at the end of the day, this is who Trapper is.

  The waitress doesn’t miss a beat, taking the bill and stuffing it between her breasts as she leans down toward Trapper. “While your money makes my pussy glisten, you won’t be ordering up anything but drinks here, funny boy. Try that shit again, and you’re out. For now, I’ll bring you something fruity until you can get your head on straight for a real man’s drink.”

  We all bust out laughing, Trapper included.

  After he raises his hands in surrender, we each go ahead with our orders. Deacon is the last one.

  “Water with lemon,” he says with a smirk.

  The waitress again isn’t fazed by my brother’s choice of beverage, even when I’m sure her tips get higher with the more alcohol each man consumes. To Deacon, we are on a mission now. Once a lead comes in, it’s go time to him. The former SEAL then puts his mind and body into work mode.

  The waitress returns, the music changes, and three women emerge on the stage to begin their sultry routines. We order another round and toss our dollar bills like any other patron without actually allowing ourselves to find a real interest in the women removing their clothing beyond trying to see if X can recognize anyone as Hadley.

  The third round comes, and Deacon is the one to ask, “Trixie around?”

  The waitress huffs. “Darlin’, I get you’re sober, so maybe you should drink up. You don’t come into Sirens looking for Trixie.”

  Deacon looks at me but drops the subject. We learned she owns the place, but not much else is known about Miss Lamasters.

  It doesn’t take minutes before a dark-haired girl with tone legs, short shorts, and a tight top comes over to us.

  “You fellas looking for Trixie?”

  I nod and relax my body while I reach for my drink to the woman we mean no harm. “Just have a question for her.”

  “I’m Jet. She’s not available. This is a strip club, not a game show where you ask a question and win a prize. Pack it up, boys; you’re out.”

  “Oh, baby, I think one round with you would be a prize,” Trapper says to the woman with the darkest eyes I have ever seen.

  “One round, hmmm,” she purrs. “I’ll take you for one round. Only, I’m gonna knock you the fuck out in the first three seconds of the match.”

  Trapper grabs his chest dramatically. “You wound me. I’m a lover, not a fighter, sweets.”

  She raises her hand and waves it in a circle without speaking before she walks off. Then the bouncer from behind the bar moves toward us.

  “Move out. This is a dead end,” I call out.

  X is the first to rise; only, he doesn’t move to the door. Instead, he follows the woman who just dismissed us.

  “Jet,” X calls out, and she turns to look at him. “Look, I get you gotta do your job. You ever have some shit in your past barrel into your present? Well, I have. Hadley may need some help, and your Trixie may know her.”

  With her hand on her hip, the chick doesn’t look like she’s going to give in at all. But just when the Mack truck of a man walks up behind us, Jet holds her hand up to stop him.

  “Trixie keeps her circle small,” Jet begins, and X lifts his hands to show our circle is small. “No,” Jet explains. “Like, her circle is tight.”

  “Tight, just how I like it. My favorite motherfucking word,” Trapper calls out loudly, and Rowdy punches him in the side to shut him up.

  Jet actually starts to crack a smile before she pushes it down. “Bottom line, Hadley whoever isn’t here. I would know. We had a girl who was roughed up and definitely trying to hide from something or someone come in two days ago. She wanted a job. Trixie sent her away. We don’t know anything more.”

  “Thank you,” X tells her genuinely.

  “Time to go, then,” Jet dismisses, and we head out of the building.

  Needing to take some time to regroup, we ride back to Dunnes Inn to see what else we can find about where Hadley is. Unfortunately, we are met with the same guys from last night and their other brothers in Vipers Creed Motorcycle Club.

  Chapter Ten

  ~Dover~

  Well, this is going to get ugly really quickly.

  Spook is in front of me in the blink of an eye. “Expected you to be gone.”

  I meet the man eye to eye. “Planned to be gone. Didn’t work out that way.”

  “Looked into you. Wanna tell me why a cop is digging into shit in my town?”

  I shake my head. “Not particularly. And it’s ex-cop. I’m not one anymore. I do the occasional private job, but I’m not here to enforce any laws.”

  Spook steps into my space, making me stand up taller. Eye to eye, man to man, I will take whatever he wants to give, but I’m damn sure not backing down.

  Then he smirks.

  I let out a breath.

  “Nah, I hear you boys serve your own kind of justice. I can respect that.”

  Extending my hand in a show of respect, I look the man in the eye. “I can respect any man who earns his cut and worries about his town. I can respect a man who doesn’t back down when he’s in the right. You have my word that we’re only here to follow a lead, and then we’re out. I gave you my marker. No matter where we are, you call it in, and we’ve got your back. Just gotta have a little more time to see where Hadley is at or heading.”

  When he pauses for a moment, I can’t help wondering if he’s going to turn around and light my ass up with bullets. We are outnumbered and definitely encroaching in their world.

  Finally, after a few beats to make me sweat, Spook’s hand meets mine in a shake before he backs away.

  “No need to crash at this dump. We’ve got food, cold beer, and more than enough house mouses to fuck. Welcome to Dyersburg, Tennessee, home of Vipers Creed MC.”

  “Hot damn, alcohol and pussy. Let’s roll,” Trapper says too excitedly, and X smacks him in the chest. “What? Y’all took my ass to a strip club. I had tits and ass in my face all night, and now my cock needs a hole and preferably not one I drill into a wall.”

  We all shake our heads and laugh as Spook heads back to his bike, and we follow his crew to their clubhouse.

  I don’t intend to wear out our welcome, but at least we have a little more time to sort out where we really need to be next, whether that be for Hadley or another case. We don’t stay anywhere too long.

  No matter what, I gave my word, and we will take the backs of the men proudly riding alongside us tonight anytime they need it.

  Bottom Line

  Bonus Time

  ~Trapper~

  Tossing back a shot, I let the alcohol burn all the way down. The house mouse grinding on my lap and lapping at my neck only makes the room spin more as I let my buzz win out over my consciousness.

  After our turn around here, I will keep my eyes, ears, and mind open to taking the backs of the men of Vipers Creed MC. I can respect the changes they are trying to make for their club a
nd community. I can respect the way they are trying to keep their shit as their own and not let any outsider roll in and make a mess of what they have under control.

  “Wanna fuck, buttercup?” I slur into her hair that is sticking out everywhere, making me practically choke on each word.

  “Oh, yeah,” she moans, reaching between us to unbutton my jeans.

  Blowing out more of her hair, I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. I look at the screen, and my stomach churns.

  The whore grinds down on my crotch, making my jeans scrape hard against my dick. The pain is another reminder as I close my eyes and the memories invade.

  “Mitchell,” the voice says my name in a needy rasp. “I’ve got you trapped.” The whisper causes my ass to tighten in protection.

  I feel dirty. I need to vomit.

  I push the mouse off me, only for her to step back and pull her shirt off. In her version of sexy, she shimmies in front of me and my brothers.

  “You dirty whore,” I slur honestly.

  She simply smirks in challenge. “You gonna give me dirty?”

  Standing, I wobble as the room spins before I straighten and crowd her space. When she’s backed to the wall, wrapping her hands around my neck and scratching into my flesh, I lean down and lick her cheek.

  She laughs, and I simply push my body into hers.

  Trapped.

  She’s trapped. I was trapped once. My mind goes wild.

  Turning her to face the wall, I kick the inside of her legs to spread them wide. Then I lift the short-ass skirt she is wearing, and I see a set of lips tattooed on her ass and the fabric of a green thong. The string slides up her ass cheeks tightly. I pull hard on either side, ripping it roughly from her body.

  “You want dirty?” I ask as I slide my fingers from the front of her pussy all the way up the slit of her ass, teasing her pussy and asshole as I pass them. She shakes her ass cheeks at me, wanting more.

  Wavering, I step back as Rowdy tosses me a condom, and I catch it against my chest.