by Emily Minton
“I won’t go too far, but I want to spend some time with my friends,” I say, hoping like hell he will give me the chance to have a little fun.
He looks toward Addy then back to me before finally nodding. “I wanna be able to see you at all times.”
Addy doesn’t give him a second to change his mind, just grabs my hand and pulls me to the bar. Within a minute or two, we are sitting down with a shot of tequila in front of each of us. Our laughter starts after the second shot. By the fifth, we are both giggling so hard we can barely keep our asses on the stool.
“You’re here,” Trix squeals as she walks through the door.
“I sure am,” I reply, my eyes glued to her rounded stomach as she walks my way. “Have you been keeping a secret from me?”
She stops a few feet from me, laying her hands on her tummy. “Not exactly.”
I slide off the bar stool, walking the distance between us and wrapping my arms around her. It feels great having my arms around my friend again, and it feels even better knowing she has a new life growing inside her.
When we separate, she starts to explain herself. “I found out I was pregnant about a month after your mom died. I wanted to tell you, but it didn’t feel right calling you. I felt guilty, being all happy when you just lost your mom.”
Trix called me right after mom died. She told me about losing her mom, told me how the pain never went away, but it did get easier to deal with as time passed. I wanted to tell her that her mom and mine were as different as night and day. I wanted her to know that I would never shed a tear for the woman that gave me life. Instead, I just listened and let her comfort me as only a friend can.
“I understand, but the truth is I could’ve used the good news. It’s been crazy as hell the last few months, and something like this would’ve been good to hear,” I tell her, not wanting her to feel any guilt. “I’m happy for you, Trix, really happy.”
She smiles, following me back to the bar. Addy and I throw back another shot as Trix sips on a Sprite. The entire time, we are gabbing like long lost friends. I know they wonder why I’m staying with my dad’s club, but I keep my mouth shut, knowing Van doesn’t want anyone to know.
As much as I hate to admit it, hate to think people that I consider friends could stab me in the back, I know that people will do crazy shit for money. The kind of money I’m going to be worth in a few months could even make the best of friends turn on me. It’s best just to keep my mouth shut about the whole mess.
It’s not that I don’t trust Addy or Trix, because I do. I could talk to them about anything. The real reason I keep my mouth shut is I just don’t want to talk about it. I don’t even want to think about it. The less I worry right now, the better off I am.
“Are you fucking Van yet?” Addy asks, a wicked grin on her face. “Please, please, please tell me you are fucking that piece of man candy.”
I smile back and shrug. “You know how it is. You see a hot guy, realize he’s packing some heat, and your panties just fall to the floor.”
“Amen, sister,” Trix shouts, causing the prospect behind the bar to chuckle. “Been there, done that shit.”
Addy leans close and whispers, “Is he as good as he looks.”
My mind goes back to having him glide in and out of me, and I can’t stop myself from looking over my shoulder and looking at him. He is gorgeous, absolutely fucking gorgeous. His auburn hair is in a mess of waves, letting everyone that sees him know that he just got off his bike. Right now, I want nothing more than to run my hands through those waves, while I beg him to fuck me harder.
“Even better, so much better.” I breathe deeply, need filling my body. “Never had anyone like him in my life, not even once.”
Trying to calm my raging lust, I ask the prospect to bring me another shot, telling him to leave the bottle behind. Then, I start answering Trix and Addy’s questions with as much detail as I can. Before long, they start talking about their old men. We compare stories back and forth, trying to outdo the other.
I’m on my seventh shot when a pair of arms wraps around my waist. For a second, I assume it’s Van and melt into them. I take a deep breath, ready to turn around and kiss him, but the scent that hits my nose causes me to freeze. It’s not Van. There is no underlying scent of leather and bourbon that seems to surround him. Instead, it’s a sandalwood scent that I got up close and personal with on my last visit.
As I attempt to pull out of the man’s embrace, he jerks me around in his arms. My eyes land on Scout, a Grim Bastard that I know really well. If it wasn’t for Van, I would probably get to know him even better this visit. Before I can utter a sound of protest, his lips are on mine. The taste hits me, reminding me of how good he can make me feel, and I can’t hold back a moan from slipping out.
My brain clicks back in place, knowing he isn’t the one I want, and I start to push him away. Before I can even give him a shove, I am yanked from his arms. The next second, I’m plastered to Van’s side, and he is glaring at Scout. The anger radiating off of him is enough to cause my heart to skip a beat.
“I was…” I start to explain, making sure he knows that Scout wasn’t hurting me and that it won’t happen again.
He cuts me off before I can finish, and the words that come out of his mouth make my world spin. “She’s mine.”
Chapter Sixteen
Van
The Grim Bastards have been working with a club in Texas, bringing in guns from below the border, for a few years now. That club pulled out of this trip, leaving the Bastards with more than they could handle. This shipment is different than what they are used to and much riskier. It’s also worth a fuck of a lot more money. Even with two clubs involved, we’re both going to get ours and then some.
“You decided who you’ll be sending yet?” Boz asks from across his desk as he motions for one of his men to bring him a beer.
Both clubs are sending eight brothers each. One man from each club will be in the truck with the guns. There will be four decoy trucks with a driver in each, and the remaining men will be working together to make sure our boys are safe. It’s a complicated plan, completely fucking complex, but it’s as safe as we can make it.
“Yeah, we decided before Tito turned himself in. They’re all good men, got the balls to do what needs to be done, but they haven’t worn our cut long,” I tell him as I take the bottle handed my way. “The local boys in blue know us. Fuck, even the state police know us. If word got out that a group of us left at once, they’d start sniffing around. I figured it would be safer to send men they didn’t know as well.”
“Smart plan. I’m gonna do the same damn thing.” Boz nods his head in understanding. “Brew usually heads up the shipments coming in from Texas, but I decided to keep my officers close to home for this one.”
This shit has to go right. If not, it will leave a hell of a lot of boys giving their lives up to our judicial system. Not to mention, it will cost both our clubs a shitload of money. We’ve discussed what needs to happen to make sure our shipments go as planned. Fuck, we’ve gone over every damn detail until it’s branded into my brain. It’s necessary, though. It’s new for all of us, transporting this much, but it’ll be worth it. If it turns out well, it just means more shipments will come along later.
“Communication is key to making this shit work. The boys on the road need to be able to talk to each other, and we sure as hell need to know what is going on,” I say before taking a swallow of beer.
“You’re right, but that’s gonna be the tricky part,” Boz’s VP says from his spot leaning against Boz’s desk. “Doesn’t matter what we use, phone or the radio. That shit can be listened to and end up leading the heat right to our men.”
Ever since Ronni explained how her phone worked, I haven’t been able to get that shit out of my head. If we could get her friend to teach our tech man how to do it, it sure in the hell would make this trip a fuck of a lot easier on everyone. I haven’t discusse
d it with Tito yet. I plan on talking to him about it after we get back home, but there is no doubt in my mind he’ll say yes.
“I think I’ve got a way around that,” I state, looking around the room and eyeing each one of Boz’s officers. “I may have a way to get hold of some phones that can’t be tracked. Not just burner phones. These fuckers are totally untraceable.”
I go on to explain everything I saw with Ronni’s phone, not mentioning my woman or her friend’s name. I describe how her number is constantly changing, showing up as random numbers each time she calls. They start asking questions, and I supply them with what I know, shrugging when I don’t have the answers they seek.
“I haven’t talked to the woman yet, but I plan on having her visit the club in the next week or two. I’ll get all my answers then,” I say with a firm nod.
“I want to meet this bitch, get her to teach me a few tricks,” the Grim Bastards’ treasurer says, jumping up from his spot on the ratty couch in the corner. “Would you have a problem with me riding up and talking to her?”
“I doubt it would be a problem, but I’ll have to talk to Tito first,” I explain with another nod. “I haven’t even got his go-ahead on bringing her in. I need that before I can start issuing invites.”
“Let me know when you get the go-ahead, and I’ll be there,” he replies, sitting back down on the couch.
“Me and the boys will be in Indiana as soon as Tito gets out. We’ll iron out the rest of this shit when we get there,” Boz cuts in, bringing everyone’s attention to him. “Anything can happen, but I think we’ve got a handle on this. Working together, we’re gonna put a fuck-load of cash into all our pockets.”
Our clubs have been friendly for years, but we’ve never worked together before. But when Boz came to us, needing our help, Tito was more than willing to join forces. If everything works out, this will be beneficial to both clubs. Not to mention, it is always good to have allies in the world we live in.
“Yes, we will.” I nod, feeling better about this shipment.
After that, the room goes quiet. His eyes are locked on me, and it’s easy to see they are filled with questions. I want to ask him what the fuck is on his mind. Instead, I lean back in my chair and wait for him to ask what he needs.
He leans forward, placing his forearms down on his desk. “Have you got Veronica’s shit sorted yet?”
I cock my brow and attempt to bluff him. “What shit are you talking about?”
His lips tip up, the barest trace of a smile on his face, and he says, “This shit with her brother. Have you found that fucker yet?”
Fuck, I told her to keep her mouth shut. I went over it with her a million damn times, telling her not to trust anyone. Here we are, in the Grim Bastards’ clubhouse for only a few hours, and Boz already knows what is going down.
“Respect, man, but that is none of your fucking business,” I say, trying to keep my anger in check.
Boz lifts his chin, giving me his respect, and says, “It was made my business when your man called in one of the Grim Bastards’ charters to help him.”
I try to keep my face straight as I take in his words, wondering what the fuck he is talking about. No one said shit about getting the Bastards involved in this cluster fuck. I don’t like this shit, do not like it one fucking bit. I’m the VP, and shit like this is supposed to be run through me. When it’s not, I end up looking like a fucking idiot.
“Not sure what you’re talking about, Boz,” I say, spitting out the words in frustration.
“That’s not surprising since we just took the club on as a charter. It’s still in transition, so not many people know that the boys in Vegas are now part of us,” he explains, giving me a clear picture of what happened. “When your man called in for back-up, my boys called me and let me know what was going on. It didn’t take a genius to put it together, considering Riot MC wanted their help to get their hands on Veronica’s brother.”
I want to be pissed at Walker for not giving me a heads up, but it’s doubtful he even realized that he was working with the Grim Bastards. When clubs transition, that shit is usually kept on lockdown until it is done. It can be a long fucking road. Power changes always are.
“I didn’t know you were expanding,” I state, trying to focus the subject on anything but Ronni.
“I didn’t either, not ‘til it happened,” he says, a sliver of a smile on his face. “Now, are you gonna tell me if you got Veronica’s shit straight yet?”
I take a deep breath, forcing myself to stay calm. “We’re working on it.”
He slowly nods, never taking his eyes from mine. “My woman thinks the world of Veronica, and there are only a few fucking bitches in this world Trix would even waste her breath speaking to. Not to mention, I have mad respect for Tito, so if you need us for any fucking thing, we’ll be there.”
“Appreciate it.” I take his words in with a nod. “But, right now, I think we’ve got it covered. If that changes, you’ll be getting a call.”
He lifts his chin my way then pushes his chair back and stands up. “I’ll think on everything tonight. We’ll meet in the morning when Brass and Taz aren’t getting their rocks off. We’ll finalize what we can then.”
Our meeting wasn’t supposed to happen until the morning. My boys came in and went directly to the club whores. I didn’t care at the time, but it pissed me the fuck off when Boz decided to have this little sit-down, and neither of them was around.
“Sounds good to me,” I reply, giving him a nod.
Signaling the end of the meeting, he starts walking to the door. I follow behind him, trailed by his officers, as we make our way into the common room in complete silence. As soon as we walk into the smoke-filled room, my eyes are pulled to Ronni.
She’s standing at the bar, surrounded by the Bastards’ old ladies, still tossing back shots. She has a huge ass smile on her face, drawing everyone to her like flies to honey. Ronni always seems so at home, no matter where she is. Whether it’s this club, our own clubhouse, or even at my house, she just fits in.
She’s different from any woman I’ve ever known, and I’ve known plenty of bitches in my time. My mind is always making comparisons, comparing her to the women I’ve known—my mom, Regina, even the club whores I sink my dick into. The more I’m around her, I realize that was the wrong thing to do. She is nothing like them, not a fucking thing.
Ronni is unique, special, a breed of her own. She’s great with Cline, takes to club life like a fish to water, and gives great head to boot. She’s perfect, absolutely fucking perfect. She’d make one hell of an old lady, and it doesn’t take a genius to realize I need to make her mine.
My eyes are still on her when the man she was kissing earlier slides into the bar stool beside her. She smiles at him but quickly turns her focus back to her friends. He doesn’t give up, leaning closer and whispering in her ear. Another smile graces her face before she shakes her head at his words. He says something else then reaches up and cups her jaw. A growl works its way up my throat and fills the air around me. I take a step in their direction, determined to tear the fucker’s arm off, but I’m stopped by a hand on my shoulder.
“Can’t let you kill one of my brothers,” Boz says with a shake of his head.
“Not gonna kill him, just teach him a lesson,” I say, jerking away from him. “I told him she was mine, and he’s still fucking with her, so he deserves a little pain.”
Boz looks at me for a second then moves his eyes to Ronni. “Hate to point out the obvious, but she’s not wearing your cut. I don’t know how things work with Riot, but here, that makes her free game.”
Fuck, he’s right. I lift my chin, letting him know I understand and walk the distance separating me from the woman I want. Giving the fucker next to her a hard look, I pull her off the bar stool and into my arms. I slam my lips on hers, claiming her for everyone to see, then pull her out of the room. By the time we’ve reached the hallway, she is squirmin
g in my hold.
“What the hell are you doing?” she asks, confusion filling her big brown eyes.
Not willing to tell her what is really on my mind, I give her a cocky smile. “My dick has been hard since I woke up with your ass snuggled against it. Since you made it this way, figured it was time you did something about it.”
The look of confusion fades, quickly replaced with need. “I can do that.”
Her easy acceptance has me stopping, right there in the hallway, and bringing my lips to hers once again. When her taste hits me, I know I’m done. This is the one woman for me, and I’m gonna make damn sure I’m the one man for her. I kiss her, hard and deep, and hope like fuck I’m not making the biggest mistake of my life.
Chapter Seventeen
Van
After bringing my bike to a stop in front of the clubhouse, I climb off and walk straight into the hole, not bothering to stop and say hello to my brothers. I’ve spent the whole fucking day on the road, riding back from our visit with the Grim Bastards. I had planned to spend the night at home in bed with Ronni until Walker called and let me know he has Miles. Now, I have to deal with this shit.
Being at the Bastards’ clubhouse helped me see the light. It’s going to be hard making Tito see the light, but Ronni is mine. I want her in a way that I’ve never wanted any other woman. I want her in and out of bed, in my life, day in and day out. Not even the threat of Tito’s anger is gonna change that.
As I walk through the crowd of people filling the compound, I try to force thoughts of Ronni out of my mind. A few of my brothers give me a look that lets me know they understand what is going down. I ignore them, my mind focused on the fucker that I am about to interrogate. Once I get to the hidden door, I jerk it open and climb down the stairs.
I don’t even make it to the bottom of the steps before the bastard’s muffled screams reach my ears. As soon as I step into the light, I see that Walker has his prey chained to the floor. He is bleeding from his mouth and nose but still looks a lot better than most of my brother’s victims. He still has all of his body parts. That is always a plus where Walker is concerned. My brother has a habit of taking men apart, piece by piece.
