AFFLICTED: A Dark Bad Boy Romance

by Nicole Fox

  The truth was, though, I was ready for this shit to be over. The last couple weeks had proven to me what I needed to do. I needed to leave the club, to disassociate myself from it. Jace was my life, now. She was what I wanted to be focused on. But, without the FBI taking me off to Witpro, I knew I'd never be free. If I tried to leave normally, I'd always be a liability to the club. Some guy may come along some day and decide, despite Fed and Happy's objections, that I needed to be silenced.

  I was just ready. Ready to be out of the game. I loved Jace. Loved her more than anything else, including my club. Didn't mean I couldn't do right by Fire and Brimstone, of course. But she was more important. And I was just ready to start over.

  Besides, I owed Aleksey to Jace. I'd promised her that night at the dining room table that we'd take him down, one way or another. I owed her that much for what Sven Morokov had done to Tomlin Spears.

  And I keep my word.

  “Fine,” Agent McKesson said, her voice filled with worry and uncertainty. “But, we're still doing it by my rules, Koen.”

  “I know, Claire. I know.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Koen

  “Don't you think you should slow down a little?” Fed asked as I slugged down the last of my beer. I wasn't sure what number I was up to, but I knew I was up there.

  This was killing me, having to cut myself out of the club. It was better than the alternative, I supposed. But, still, it stung. I grumbled and just grabbed another cold one and cracked it open.

  It used to be that I loved the rally. Every year my dad would bring me down here and show me around to his buddies for a few hours, before bustling me off to a sitter or my grandpa's. Live music, people hawking their wares, drinking competitions.

  Sure, it wasn't Sturgis, or anything, with thousands upon thousands of bikers coming from all over the country. But it was ours, without any weekend warrior types coming in to dilute our fun, or trucking their bikes in from all over the country just so they could stop a mile outside city limits and ride them in.

  And, because it was ours, we could hold court the way we were meant to. The only preening and posing we had to do was for ourselves, for our benefit. Not because of rivalries between us and other gangs.

  Of course, there was always some guys from rival clubs who would slip in. It was likely some of the remaining Thunder Riders were here, on the outskirts of the rally, moving within their own circles. That was to be expected. They wouldn't make trouble or anything, not with the F&B MC out in full force and them being so weak from Claire's buddy's recent bust, but they were definitely here with at least a minor presence. It was, after all, a public place. Not much you could do, except for cutting a man's feet off, to stop a man from walking down the street, no matter what his colors were.

  All our support clubs, all wearing red and black, with our patch on their vests, swirled around the area. These were the guys who rode with us on charity events, who gave us a good name in the press. They weren't into any of the illegal stuff, they were just guys who liked getting together with their ol' ladies and buddies on the weekends so they could ride bikes and drink some brew.

  They were just guys being guys, sure, but they'd shut any kind of Thunder Riders action down in a heartbeat. Especially with how weak the TR had recently become.

  But, like I said, I used to love the rally. It was a weekend of fun, loud music, girls hopping into your bed, beer, and loud bikes. What wasn't to love?

  This year, though, it meant more to me. It meant more because I knew it would be my last. Simultaneously, I was trying to both savor every moment of it, but also dreading each one as we approach the appointed time.

  “You're drunk,” Fed said.

  “No, I ain't,” I said, checking the time on my phone. One o'clock, high point of the festivities. Time was riding on, and we were all stuck in its sidecar. I glanced around, half-expecting to see Happy's fist come flying out of the corner of my vision.

  “Just don't get so boozed up you can't pull it off,” Fed said.

  “Come on, Fed,” I replied, a hint of a slur to my voice, “you know Happy couldn't take me sober. If anything, I should start doing shots to make this shit even more believable.”

  Fed cracked a little bit of a smile on that stony face of his. “Yeah, well, you got me there.”

  I grinned, looking around at the rally one last time. “Way past high noon,” I said to Fed. “We should get back to the club so we can make this break official.”

  “You sure?” Fed asked. “We could give it another minute.”

  “Nah,” I said, shaking my head, a sense of inevitability settling on my chest like an elephant. “We put it off any longer, I might change my mind.”

  Deep down, though, I knew I wouldn't. This was the path I'd chosen for myself, and to slink away from my responsibility so I could just wait to have my presidency taken from me by the FBI or Aleksey Volkov wasn't the way I did things. This was a “nut up or shut up” situation if I'd ever been in one.

  “Meet you there,” I told Fed as I slipped off into the crowd and found Jace. She was talking to one of the guys' ol' ladies, just laughing with the slightly older woman and drinking beers as they looked around at the assortment of men and women around them.

  I grabbed Jace by the elbow. “It's time,” I grunted.

  “Already?” she pouted. She turned back to her new friend and said her good-byes. Together, we headed off into the crowd and headed back to Club Hellfire, giving my drunken nod to everyone we passed that nodded first.

  “You still sure about this?” she asked.

  “Think I got this courageous for nothing?”

  “Courageous?” she asked, laughing as I stumbled on a crack in the concrete and she put an arm around my waist for support. “You mean drunk, right?”

  “All part of the act,” I said as I pulled into her an embrace and kissed her.

  She grinned up at me. “Alright, Mr. President,” she said slapping my chest. “Let's go.”

  We threaded our way through the crowd of bikers and soon ended up at the front doors of Club Hellfire. The place was packed, a complete circus of debauchery. Hoots and hollers filled the air, classic rock so loud it could have been either Buddy Holly or Zeppelin blared over the speakers. I shoved my way through the revelers, dragging Jace right along with me. We were headed for the upstairs, to the little railed-in balcony that circled around the top of the club like an old saloon. Happy and I were going to do it there.

  I mounted the steps with Jace, one hand on the railing for support. I realized I was nervous, even with the liberal amounts of libations flowing through my system. I realized, too, that was I was marching to my future, to the ending of my old life. After this, there'd be just one more step: getting Aleksey on tape. Then, I could start my new life with my woman by my side.

  My hand shook a little as I ran it over the rail and walked stiff-legged to my appointed spot where I would perform my downfall for the assembled crowd below. Up ahead, I could see Happy talking with some of the guys. Benji was with him and the others, laughing and carousing. I glanced back behind me, saw that Fed was coming along.

  I stopped at the spot we'd picked out. All the bikers below us would be able to see everything we wanted them to see, ever stumble from grace that we'd planned.

  This was heavy shit, I realized. Real heavy. Like if Julius Caesar had been in on the joke, just not as deadly. As Fed walked up, I glanced over at Happy, my Brutus. We exchanged a little nod.

  It was time.

  Happy broke from the crowd and headed our way. His group followed along behind him, their eyes a mix of surprise and trepidation as my third–in-command approached ahead of them. “You drunk already, Baby Gator?” Happy yelled when he got within ten feet of me.

  “What, Happy?” I hollered back. “Fuck you!”

  “Fuck me?” he said, looking back over his shoulder as if to say, “See this asshole here?”

  “Yeah,” I yelled back, taking a step towa
rds him. “I'm the fucking boss here, and I say go fucking yourself.”

  Happy barked a laugh that was anything but his namesake. He took a step closer. “You know what, Boss? I've been thinking. I signed up to follow Gator, not his little fucking runt. Best part of you got left behind on your momma's asshole, you know that?”

  “Yeah, well, best part of you ended up in your momma's throat,” I screamed back, pitching my vocal range up so I sounded like a whining little prepubescent boy. I purposely balled my fists up in rage, having to fight even in my drunken stupor to keep them at my side and not catch Happy's sucker punch. “Fuck you!”

  I saw the fist flying at my head, and I didn't do anything. I knew it was going to hurt, even if it was coming from a smaller guy like Happy. He had meat on his bones, even if he didn't look it, and he knew how to punch from his legs. I barely had time to register that it was coming, though.

  I saw it. Then, the pain exploded through my nose and face as my head violently snapped back. I stumbled back, my hand coming up to my face. “Mother-” I screamed, but was cut off as Happy rabbit punched me again and again.

  On cue, from behind me I heard a piercing scream from Jace that was guaranteed to get everyone's attention.

  Jesus fucking Christ, I thought as I fell back under the onslaught. I threw a hand up, my fight or flight taking over for a second there, but my brain soon took over and made sure the block was weak enough to not stop Happy's next punch that clipped my jaw and stumbled me to my knees. I lunged at him, throwing a flailing fist at his head in a clumsy haymaker, but Happy just blocked it and slashed me to the ground.

  “Hey!” Fed yelled as he stepped in between me and Happy, then, as my vision blurred out for a moment. He grabbed Happy up and flung him back a step, but the guys behind Happy had crowded in and kept Fed from throwing him too far. “What the fuck, Happy?”

  “Done with this piece of shit,” Happy yelled at Fed as Jace slipped an arm around me and helped me to stand. He glanced around, trying to garner support. He pointed past Fed, straight at me. “Koen ain't done shit for this club, all he's done is pull us down since Gator died. Right guys?”

  There were mumbles of agreement, mainly because Happy was the last one that had spoken. People were funny like that, always picking the guy who got in the last word. Besides, he was a good actor. He even had me believing for a moment that this was a real mutiny.

  I glanced down at Club Hellfire's floor, at all the sets of eyes staring back up at our little theatrical performance. “Know what?” I asked, loud enough for everyone to hear me over even the Buddy Zepellin blaring from the sound system. “I'm done with you pieces of shit! Fuck all y'all bitches, I'm out of here!”

  “Good!” Happy declared as Fed took a step back.

  I shakily stood up, stripped out of my vest, with its patches and runners and the colors I'd been swaddled in as a boy. I could feel my tears welling up, even, as I realized I was basically killing my old self, that I was shedding my old skin. I looked Happy right in the eye. “Take this shit,” I yelled, throwing my vest at him, “and shove it up your ass, traitor.”

  I was careful not to throw it on the ground. I couldn't dishonor the colors for anything, not even for our little play. Besides, that kind of disrespect would get my ass stomped by every man in the MC before I even hit the door, ex-president or not.

  Fed glanced back at me then, with a fake grimace twisting his face, he began to strip out of his vest. He shoved it into Happy's hands along with mine. He nodded to me, resolute to stand by my side.

  “Traitor?” Happy asked as I turned to walk away, Jace under one arm giving me fake support. “Fuck you, Baby Gator! You're the only goddamn traitor in this club. We're true F&B!”

  I just held up my hand over my shoulder, giving him the finger as Jace and Fed helped me to walk away. “Think everyone bought it?” I asked Jace under my breath as we headed for the stairs.

  “Oh yeah,” she said, her voice a little excited despite the tense and somber situation. “If we weren't going into witness protection, I'd say you should move to Hollywood.”

  “Yeah,” I agreed. “Hollywood.” Forgetting how badly Happy had just banged up my face, I tried to give her a weak smile, but instead just ended up wincing in pain.

  The alcohol might have given me plenty of courage, but it wasn't doing much to numb the pain. The adrenaline was still kicking high, slicing through the fogginess of all the beers I'd been drinking, and I could sense the tense undercurrent running through the crowd below.

  “You did good,” Fed assured me, his face as downcast as I felt right then. “Real good, brother.”

  “Thanks,” I replied, nodding. Jace and I headed down the stairs ahead of him, the old wooden structure wobbling a little as we descended to the crowd of bikers below, who were already parting like the Red Sea for Moses.

  We made our graceless exit from Club Hellfire, leaving our whole world behind as we headed for the back lot. Stripped of our vests, of our protection, just more meat for the machine. Eyes followed us as we trudged through the center of the club, but just as many averted away from us. I glanced up one last time, my eyes settling on Benji and Happy.

  Benji nodded, her lips drawn down in a tight frown. I watched her sigh.

  We were on our own, now, I realized. Completely on our own, and out in the cold.

  # # #

  Jace

  Fed and I helped Koen to the back door, his weight pressing down on me like a ton of drunken, dead bricks. All eyes were on us as we shuffled through the silent, staring crowd, their eyes all big and saucer-like as they just watched us go.

  We parted ways with the crowd and entered the back hallway. There were still a couple of people back there, mostly bikers from the support clubs for the F&BMC, or just weekend warrior types.

  Koen looked bad, real bad, with blood streaming down his face from a cut just above his eye. We needed to get him out of here as fast as possible. I had myself wedged up underneath Koen's armpit, and I had to really struggle to carry some of his weight. The way he was limping, I thought he might have twisted his ankle when he went down from Happy's last punch, but I just knew I didn't want him to put any more weight on it than he had to.

  “Christ, you're heavy,” I groaned as we approached the back door.

  “Ain't my fault you guys wanted me to do a good job,” he said, his voice morose sounding.

  This was hitting him hard, I knew. This was his family, and he was giving it all up to try and save them, to protect them from the mistake he'd made when he'd picked Volkov for them. He was the one shouldering all their responsibility, even if most of the MC, or the support clubs associated with them, didn't know it.

  “Hey, sugar,” some guy said just as I felt a hand grab my ass, “what're you doing with a loser like this shitbird?”

  We stopped and I disengaged myself from Koen and went to turn around. “Excuse me?” I said, my voice arching as I focused on the bastard who'd just grabbed my ass.

  He was big, well over six feet tall, and looked like he spent most nights at the gym. Tattoos covered his toned, bulging arms, and both legs looked like goddamn tree trunks.

  I started to tell this fucker exactly what he could do. “Why don't you go-”

  Koen, though, was moving before I could even finish my sentence. I'd never seen a man move like that, never before in my life. He was off of me, and springing onto the asshole. He slammed his forehead into Butt Grabber McGee's face, shattering his nose in a bloody spray, and sending him sprawling up against the wall.

  Before you could say “ass beating,” the guy was pinned up against the wall, desperately protecting his vitals as Koen wailed on him. He threw fists faster than I could see, easily slamming into the beefy Butt Grabber's body half a dozen times before Fed finally realized what was going on.

  Fed tried to pull him off the guy, but he'd dropped to his knees and Koen moved in for the kill with a cold fury I'd never seen before. “Koen! Come on, dude! Stop!”

/>   “Never. Ever. Touch. My. Woman,” he said, his voice low and intense, with every word punctuated by a fist to the face.

  Fed finally managed to grab hold of Koen, to yank him off the guy and soothe him a little. “Dude,” Fed said to his best friend, “you're ruining the act.”

  Koen just grunted in return, and we headed on our way.

  I should have been terrified that a man I'd slept with could do something like that, just leave a man in a puddle of blood and spittle in a back hallway without a second thought. I loved this guy, and he'd just demolished a man right before my eyes without even blinking.