Gunn (Great Wolves Motorcycle Club Book 11)

by Jayne Blue

  Gunn

  Great Wolves M.C. - California Chapter

  Jayne Blue

  Nokay Press LLC

  Gunn

  Great Wolves M.C. - Book Eleven

  By

  Jayne Blue

  Copyright © 2018 by Jayne Blue/Nokay Press LLC

  All Rights Reserved

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the author or publisher, except where permitted by law or for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Epilogue

  Up Next from Jayne Blue

  More Goodies from Jayne Blue

  Also by Jayne Blue

  Prologue

  Gunn

  Seven Years Ago …

  I remember the rain. It fell hard on the shiny black coffin and rolled down as the preacher said his words.

  I remember Susan Rose crying quietly beside me, her face buried in her hands. She couldn’t look at me. She couldn’t look at the preacher. Arms went around her shoulders and a man whispered in her ear. It might have been her brother. Whoever he was, his cold eyes cut through me. Judgment. Blame. Persecution.

  I couldn’t feel guilty. I couldn’t feel anything. I just remember that fucking rain pelting Scotty’s coffin and sounding a lot like the echoes of gunfire that took him down.

  When the preacher stopped talking, someone else told us we could leave. They’d take care of Scotty now. I don’t know why they say that. To make you feel better, I guess. Mrs. Rose’s sobs grew louder and they had to drag her away from her son’s coffin. She dragged a flower arrangement down with her; its roses fell to the ground in a heap. It seemed fitting somehow.

  “Come on,” Sly Cullinan said. He had a hand on my back, gently pushing me away from the crowd.

  I met him eye to eye. Sly was the president of the Great Wolves M.C. He stood tall and silent, his blue eyes hard as he scanned the crowd. He took a risk coming here. Hell, the whole crew had. It mattered though. Scotty and I came up in the club together. No ... that’s not true. Scotty followed me when I started hanging around the Wolf Den when we were sixteen. He didn’t even have a ride of his own back then.

  Mrs. Rose stood to the side, her eyes nearly swollen shut from crying. Scotty’s skinny little sister tried to put an arm around her but Susan pushed her away.

  Take care of her. Scotty had coughed through blood to say those words to me as I held his head in my lap.

  “Don’t you fucking leave me, man,” I had said. “You hold on. Sly’s coming. The whole crew is coming. We’re gonna get you help. Don’t you fucking die.”

  But he’d been hit three times, rapid fire. It’s a wonder he wasn’t dead before he hit the ground. If I’d walked out of that bar first, it would have been me. It had been such a simple, stupid job. Collect the grand the bar owner owed the club for protection. He was a month behind and Sly wanted to send a message. Sure, the G.W.M.C. was mostly legit now, but that didn’t mean the club wouldn’t bring the hammer down when it was needed. As prospects, it was the first run Sly had trusted us solo.

  Susan Rose went to her knees. Scotty’s sister tried to hold her up but Mrs. Rose was dead weight. I ran forward. Sly tried to call me back.

  I hooked my hands beneath Mrs. Rose’s elbows and helped her to her feet. Her eyes went up and up until they met mine.

  “Mrs. Rose …”

  “Don’t.” She jerked away from me. “You did this. You took my Scotty from me.”

  Her words tore through me.

  “Mom, don’t,” Brenna said. She had long hair, pulled into a ponytail. Scotty had used the money he earned at the clubhouse to put braces on her. She wore her school uniform today and my heart twisted. Those were the nicest clothes Susan could afford. Scotty’s piece-of-shit old man came and went. It was better when he went. When he was around, he liked to beat on Susan and Scotty. I wondered where he was that day. Probably slumped over some barstool. That was for the best. Without Scotty to take the brunt of it now, things might get worse for Susan. I had to find a way to make sure that didn’t happen.

  “Mrs. Rose,” Sly said over my shoulder. “I’m sorry for your loss. I know there’s nothing I can say that’ll take your pain away. Just know, the club will provide. If you need anything ... anything at all ... you call me.”

  Susan wrenched out of my grasp. She staggered sideways. Brenna tried to grab her again. She shot Sly a desperate look, her own eyes filled with tears as she managed to take her mother’s hand. I couldn’t look at her. I couldn’t look at either of them. What happened wasn’t my fault. I knew that in my head. My heart felt something different.

  “You piece of shit!” Susan got her strength back. She took a sharp breath then spit at Sly’s feet. “My boy’s death is on your conscience!”

  “Mrs. Rose,” I said. I felt ten years old again. That’s when I first met Scotty. We’d cut class together on the first day of fourth grade. His old man had given him a black eye the night before. I showed him my crooked finger from the time my old man twisted it nearly off.

  Her face softened as she looked at me. Susan Rose had made me lunch that day when we were ten years old. She saw my jeans were too small and the holes in my shoes. She gave me some of Scotty’s to wear. My own mother split when I was five. Scotty’s mom wasn’t perfect, but at least she was around.

  “No more.” She pointed a finger at me. “What bigger sign do you need, Brandon? Huh? These men are thugs. Criminals.”

  “Mrs. Rose, the club isn’t …”

  She put a hand up. “No. I don’t want to hear any more. Make your choice, Brandon. You’re lucky I still have the heart to give you one. It’s only because I know my son loved you like a brother. So, save yourself. Take a look around. If you let them sew that patch on your jacket, I never want to see you again.”

  Then she turned and walked away. Scotty’s little sister ran to catch up with her.

  “Come on,” Sly said. “Give her time. She’s in deep grief.”

  I stood there for a moment. Scotty lay in that box behind me. His mother turned her back on me. But Sly Cullinan and the brotherhood of the Great Wolves M.C. stood by my side.

  The club will provide.

  I dropped my head and said a prayer for Scotty’s soul then joined Sly and the others. We rode out together as the rain finally broke.

  Chapter One

  Gunn

  Present Day …


  “Awe, come on, Tiny,” I said. “She’s perfect for you!”

  Tiny gave me one of his famous shit-eating grins. The dude was huge, almost six five with a barrel chest and a shiny bald head. He looked like the meanest son of a bitch you’d ever wanna meet. We all knew he was nothing but a softie though. Unless you came after one of us. Then Tiny Sullivan was one dangerous motherfucker.

  Tiny had just been shot down by one of the new waitresses at the Wolf Den. Her name was Dee and she was as salty as they come. Tall, strong, and way too smart to get mixed up with Tiny. It was probably for the best. Sly, our prez, didn’t like it when we shit where we eat. Employees of the club were supposed to be off-limits. I was just busting Tiny’s balls and he knew it.

  “Shove it up your ass, Gunn,” Tiny said. “You’re just jealous she gave me the time of day.”

  “Don’t worry, sugar, I know how to tell time too.” No sooner had Tiny’s gravelly voice reached me before Salina draped her arms around my shoulders and nipped my earlobe.

  Salina was a sweet girl, but she’d made her rounds with the unmarried guys in the club. A year or two ago, I wouldn’t have given two shits about that. Along with our regular crowd of good-paying working stiffs, the Wolf Den served its share of biker bangers. Salina was pretty much the Queen Banger. Tonight, I just wasn’t in the mood for the hassle. Salina got too territorial.

  “You’re sweet as hell, Salina,” I said. “I’m heading out early in the morning. Gotta get my beauty rest tonight.”

  This earned me a round of ball-busting all my own. Salina got the hint though. She had her pride.

  “Come here, baby,” Angel said. He sat at the table next to me, playing cards with Charlie and Big John. “I’ve saved a seat for you.” He pointed to his lap and I watched the blush rise up Salina’s cheeks. Angel had that effect on women. His real name was Avery. The girls called him Angel cuz they thought he had the face of one. He hated the nickname at first, but it kind of stuck over the years.

  Marcus and Curtis sat at my table. Sly let us out of Church an hour ago. It was all good news. Receipts at the Wolf Den were up. The club had just sold its interest in the Great Wolves Gym on the edge of town at a staggering profit. Two years ago, I’d convinced Sly to let me buy out Hurley’s Bike Shop. I’d made him a small fortune in custom rebuilds under the G.W.M.C. banner.

  I took a long, slow sip of my beer while Marcus started talking shit. He’d had a run-in with some assholes over in Redding last week. The usual stuff. A smaller club tried to mess with one of the businesses we provide security for. The Great Wolves had been legit for over a dozen years now. That didn’t mean we didn’t have to flex our muscle every now and again.

  “Hey, Switch?” Dex, our V.P., called out from behind the bar. Switch was bouncing tonight. The Wolf Den had a reputation as the place for the unattached of Green Bluff, California to hang out on weekends.

  Dex was big and broad with a wolfish look about him, long black hair with gray at the temples. He jerked his chin and pointed to a group of guys at the other end of the bar. My back went up. They were just a group of college kids blowing off steam, but it looked like maybe Ford had over-served them tonight. They were getting a little loud and huddling together in a way that might lead to trouble.

  Switch heard Dex’s sharp whistle and started toward the guys at the end of the bar. Dex caught my eye. We understood each other. If shit went down, he wanted me to watch Switch’s six.

  Two women sat on the corner stools. Dex leaned over to one. It was Ava, his old lady. An E.R. nurse, she’d patched me up more than once. I hoped I wouldn’t need her to tonight, but I’d be ready. Scarlett sat next to her. She was Sly’s woman. I knew she was packing tonight too. Though she smiled and leaned down to hear whatever Ava said to her, Scarlett’s hand went to her hip.

  I didn’t like the vibe in the air one bit. Dex stood with his back up, his eyes scanning the crowd. He moved near the cash register. He had a button under the bar that sent a signal to Sly’s office. We weren’t at Defcon 1 or anything, but it was good to keep our heads up.

  “Come on, baby,” one of the guys shouted at the end of the bar. He swayed on his feet. I’d read it wrong. These weren’t college boys. These were townies. The kid looked maybe a hair over twenty-one, but I recognized him. Tall and lanky, he had an Adam’s apple as big as my fist and deep-set green eyes. His name was Austin or Dustin, something like that. His old man bought a rebuilt Sportster off me about six months ago. The kid came in with him trying to act all tough around me.

  “Wannabes,” Marcus said. He chewed an unlit cigar.

  “Yep,” I said. We got these types often enough. They’d ride in on their foreign-made bikes and tell their dipshit friends they were hanging with the Wolves. Most of them were from out of town. And most of them knew better than to raise a ruckus in our bar. This idiot had one too many beers in him and it was making him stupid.

  “I’m fine right where I am.” I heard a female voice rise above the shouting. Her tone was cool, but I could sense a little tightness to it.

  “Leave off, asshole,” another girl said, turning her attention to Austin or Dustin.

  Switch and I got closer, pushing our way through the throng. Though we’d sold the gym to another charter, Sly still had a stake in a couple of MMA fighters who trained there. One of our boys was the undercard in a big match tonight. Fight nights always drew the biggest crowds.

  “Mmm mmm mmm.” One of Dustin or Austin’s friends made a catcall at the girls. The little puke wasn’t taking no for an answer. Not cool. Women had to feel safe in the Wolf Den or we’d be closed for business inside of a week.

  “Everything going okay over here?” Switch broke through the crowd first. Dustin ... shit, that was his name. He and his friend backed up but I could see Dustin’s eyes weren’t totally clear. I shot a look to Ford behind the bar. He should have stopped serving them a good bit before now. He flipped his palms, gesturing innocence. Maybe these two shitbirds had shown up like this. If that were true, Dex would want to have words with Marcus up at the front door.

  The girls had their backs to me. One was tall and curvy. She had a short, spiky haircut and wore a pink tank top with some glittery pattern. Her friend was shorter and thin with fine-boned wrists; she kept one palm on the bar behind her. Dustin had gotten in her personal space and she twisted to avoid him.

  The light caught her hair. It was long, thick, and dark brown, but with shimmering gold flecks through it. It swayed as she gestured wildly and tried to push Dustin off. He got way too fucking close to her. I pushed my way through. Blood pounded through me and my fists curled, itching to fight. Dustin put a hand on the skinny one’s upper arm. She had some kind of red silky halter top on with thin straps. He hooked a finger beneath one and tugged on it.

  “Aw, hell, no,” I said, shoving two other dudes out of the way. Switch was with me. He moved right, I moved left.

  “Time to go home,” I said, letting my voice drop low. I felt a vein pop near my temple. Damn, I wanted to fuck this dude up. He licked his lips and slid a hand around the girl’s waist. He eye-fucked her, oblivious to the hurt I was about to throw down.

  I grabbed him by the shoulder and jerked him back hard. I’m big, broad, and I know what people see when they lay eyes on me. I have few memories of my mother, but I was no more than five when she took me aside one day and told me I had devil eyes, dark and deep. I trained them on Dustin, towering over him.

  “Hey, man. I was here first,” he said, still not getting it. I shot a look at Ford. Either he or Marcus fell asleep at the wheel tonight.

  “You need to back the fuck up, man,” I said. “The ladies are trying to be polite, but you’re not invited to their party. You get what I’m saying?”

  “Okay, okay,” Dustin said. It was starting to dawn on him how much trouble he was in. Switch was at my shoulder, fists curled.

  “Let’s get the fuck out of here,” Dustin’s friend said. He tugged his shirtsleeve. “T
he beer’s flat here anyway.”

  Dustin stumbled backward. He made some other dumbass comment, but his friend had the good sense to keep him moving. Crisis averted. Part of me felt a little disappointed. I love a good brawl, and it had been a while.

  “Wouldn’t have been worth it,” Switch said, reading my mind. “Those two would have folded like a cheap card table.”

  I jerked my chin toward Ford. He got the hint and started pouring two draft beers. “You girls having a good time?” I asked.

  The curvy one looked me up and down. She was pretty and had what I like to call a “fuck you” face. As in, she had these pouty lips that curled up like she was about to say that very thing.

  But it was her friend who drew my eye. That long dark hair of hers fell over one eye and I found myself pushing back the urge to tuck it behind her ear. I had the lines all ready. Let me see your pretty smile, beautiful. Of course, then I’d be no better than Dustin and his fuckface of a friend. That, and Dex was watching. My prez and veep didn’t like us sampling the waitresses or the customers. What happened after hours and off property was our own business.

  “You just let me know if you need anything,” I said. “Let me buy you this round. Sorry about those assholes.”

  “I’m Christine,” the pouty one said. “And you’re gorgeous.”

  “You’re drunk,” her friend said as she reached over her and grabbed one of the draft beers Ford had poured. I slid the other one to her friend. She put a hand up to stop me.