The One I Need (Snakes Henchmen MC Book 1)

by Alivia Grayson

  Wow. My dad is the President of the whole of the Snakes Henchmen Charters all over the country. He's the guy on top, the big man. I can't imagine the pressure he's under every day.

  After showering last night, I ate a salad, because that's all I could stomach due to feeling sick with nerves and excitement, and then fell asleep. I slept for hours. I haven't slept that long in a good while. I woke this morning, showered, ate toast, got dressed in black jeans, and a short-sleeved, black button-down shirt, pulled on my boots and leather jacket – not that it's needed in this heat – jumped on my bike and rode over here before I lost my nerve.

  All I have to do is make these people think I'm just like every other woman who hangs around them. I wouldn't say stupid, but I don't want them to know just how strong I am. They'll find that out soon enough.

  The young prospect making his way over to the gate is handsome in a rugged kind of way. Not my type, but handsome enough. “Can I help you?” He asks. I look at his almost clear cut, he has a road name already. Tiger.

  Bikers and their silly nicknames. Fucking big kids, the lot of them.

  I look at him and smile my most innocent, flirty smile. “Hi,” I slip my jacket off slowly. Teasing him a little. I know how to work men. They all like a little tease, a little flesh. If the man is dumb enough he'll tell you anything. I was taught years ago by the man who made me the woman I am today to always change your attitude to adapt to any situation. A little like a chameleon.

  My arms are now bare, my cleavage is showing enough to get his mind on my tits and what they might look like under this pretty black lace bra, the edges showing. “I'm here because I heard you guys were looking for new girls?”

  Total bullshit. But this is an MC, they're always looking for new club whores.

  “Is that so?” He's not even looking at my face, his eyes are sliding up and down my body. I have a good figure, slim with curves in all the right places, my tits are a nice handful, and a bubble butt most women would have to pay good money to achieve. Conceited? Probably, but I've worked damn hard for this body, I have every right to be proud of it.

  “Have I got it wrong?” I fake confused innocence. “Oh, damn. My friend told me... I'm sorry. I'll go.” I turn to walk away, hoping he'll stop me.

  He does.

  Wait!” Yes! With a smile, I turn to face him again, acting like I'm this innocent but confident young woman. “There's always room for new girls. Especially...” He looks me up and down again. Pig. He'd fuck me right now if I gave him even the tiniest hint that I wanted it. Men like him usually just take it. But, as crazy as it sounds, he doesn't look like the type of guy who'd force me to do that. “Someone who looks like you.”

  “Does that mean you'll let me inside for an interview?” I smile at him excitedly. God, I feel like a slut, but I'll do whatever I have to, to get inside this damn place and find what I'm looking for.

  He tips his head back and laughs loudly. Is this motherfucker making fun of me? “Oh, doll, we don't give whores interviews. You shake your tits and ass, Prez likes you, you get the gig.”

  Sounds like a fucking interview to me, dickhead.

  But I don't say anything to him, I just nod my head and smile sweetly.

  “Come on then, little biker whore.”

  Cunt!

  He opens the gates as I climb on my Harley and start it up. He waves me through while pointing to a place where I can park next to at least five other bikes. I do, and he tells me to walk through the doors and I'll find myself in the bar of the clubhouse. I'm to ask for Tammy, she'll show me what I have to do. He wishes me luck if you can believe that.

  God this is it. I'm going to finally come face to face with the man who created me after fifteen years of wondering.

  Can I really do this?

  Is he even here?

  I can't think these things right now, I've waited too long to back out now. If he's not here I'll wait until he is.

  Deep breath.

  Here goes.

  “Who's the chick? And how the hell did she get in here?” I ask Jett.

  The brunette that's just walked into the bar of our clubhouse is beyond fuckin' hot. I haven't seen an ass that hot in many a year. She's got a body like an hourglass. She's beautiful in every sense of the word. So fuckin' perfect. God, what I wouldn't do for an hour with that.

  And again, I'm thinking about things I shouldn't. I don't even know her and I'm already imagining what she'd look like with my kid in her belly. How utterly fuckin' ridiculous is that? I don't even know this girl.

  Fuck. I've got serious fuckin' issues.

  But aside from that, the point is, no one is supposed to be able to gain entrance to our clubhouse without going through one of its patched members first. Fucker manning the gate let her in because she's a hot piece of ass! I'll kill the little fucker.

  “No idea. But she's fuckin' hot.” Hot is an understatement.

  I watch her walking toward the bar, her ass snug in her tight jeans. She's wearing a leather jacket. She could almost pass for a biker chick. Almost. If it wasn't for the fact it's so very obvious she's a whore, she'd almost pass.

  Is she a whore here looking to get in on the action? Or is she something else?

  I don't like to judge a woman without knowing her, but women only come here to be part of the clique of whores we keep around here. She'll be one every guy here will be fighting over. Just like the little slut from last night.

  I watch Tammy, our bartender, Red's old lady, and the woman in charge of the girls here and over at our strip joint, Pretty Pussy, point over to where Jett and I are drinking at a table to the left of the bar.

  The girl's eyes lock with mine and a smirk creeps across her face. She likes what she sees. I most definitely like what I see. I'm a fuckin' magnet for the new girls. And I don't mind breaking them in, let me tell you.

  “She's comin' over.” He's right, she is.

  I wonder what a girl like her is really doing in a place like this. If she was here to join the whores she'd be talking to Tammy, not walking over to Jett and me like she owns the world. She has a lot of confidence, I can tell by the way she's practically gliding over to us.

  I love a girl with confidence. I can tell by the way she's walking that she'd be dynamite in the bedroom. She'd keep me on my fuckin' toes out of it as well, I can tell.

  “Dude, I'm calling dibs.”

  “What are you, twelve?” I whisper-hiss in his direction. Fuckin' idiot.

  “Excuse me, I'm sorry to interrupt, but the girl over there told me that I'm in the right place to find the Snakes Henchmen– well, obviously as this is your clubhouse – and that you guys are part of the MC.” Her eyes linger on my patch. The entwined snakes with the diamond eyes and pistol smoke rising from their mouths.

  “That depends on who's asking?” Jett says.

  “I think it's pretty obvious from your patches that you're definitely part of this club. I'm looking for your president.”

  “For?” I ask while leaning back in my chair and crossing my arms over my chest. Her eyes widen a little at the size of my biceps. I get that reaction a lot from women. Even more so when they see the size of my dick.

  “It's private.”

  “Can't help you, darlin',” Jett says with a smirk on his face. “No one gets near the Prez without my say so. Although,” he snakes his hand up the back of her leg, “I could be persuaded to help.”

  “You have exactly two seconds to take your filthy biker hands off me before I break your fucking neck!”

  I have to stifle the laughter trying to erupt from me. No one speaks to Jett that way. No one. Not if they want to live, at least. This woman has balls, I'll give her that. She's probably terrified right now, but I gotta hand it to her, walking in here and standing up for herself. She has no clue what kind of men we really are. For all she knew Jett could have been the kind of man who'd smack her around and teach her a lesson.

  He's not. Luckily for her.

  She's a fiery
one. I like it. God, I've been waiting for a woman like her to walk in this place for years.

  Jett holds up his hands, a smirk on his face. “Feisty. I like it.”

  “I just need to know if Shepard is here, or if he'll be in soon?”

  “Why don't you take a seat and tell us what you want with Shepard.” I watch her eyeballing Jett. She doesn't trust him. She's right not to. He's a good man, but a dangerous one. Not that he'd hurt a woman. None of us would. That's not what this MC is about. We have rules we live by. Never hurt women, children, or the innocent. “I'm Jett, this is Tank.” He points to me.

  “And you are?” I ask when she fails to say anything.

  She doesn't answer me, she turns to Jett, her eyes widening in realization. “You're Shepard's son, aren't you?” He narrows his eyes at her. Okay, the girl is a stranger, but everyone knows Jett is Shepard's son. Our VP. He shouldn't be surprised. “You're Tate, aren't you?”

  Okay, that she shouldn't know. Both Jett's and my eyes bug out. No one calls Jett by his given name. No one has since he was fourteen. Hell, I don't think there's more than a handful of people outside this club who know his given name.

  Jett gets to his feet, gorgeous girl swallows visibly. Jett is six-foot-three and built like a brick shit house. Any woman would be intimated. Hell, most men are. Is she actually insane?

  “Who the fuck are you?” Jett's voice is menacing, but before the girl has the chance to answer him, he's grabbed her arm and is dragging her to the back office. She hasn't said one word in protest, but it doesn't stop me following them as quickly as I can. Jett would never hurt a woman, but it won't stop him putting the pressure on when he wants information.

  He roughly pushes her into the office. I step inside and close the door. Either the girl is crazy, or she's been through all of this before because she doesn't look at all scared of either of us. When two huge ass bikers are staring you down, you don't just stand there with a raised eyebrow like you don't give a damn if they shoot you right now.

  Crazy girl.

  “Now tell me how the fuck you know my name!” He bellows. She folds her arms around herself. “You gonna answer me?”

  “Are you always this angry?”

  “Listen to me, you little bitch!” She laughs at him. Actually laughs! “Why you...”

  He takes a step forward, I take one toward him, pressing my hand against his chest. “Calm down. She's a woman.”

  “A woman with a big fuckin' mouth and too much information! Fuck this,” I don't get to say anything before he pulls out his cell. I'll wager he's calling Shepard. And from the heated discussion, I know I'm right.

  “Do you want to tell me how you know who he is before you're interrogated?”

  “Nope.”

  “It would be better for you if you did.”

  “I'm not scared of either of you. I've been around this kind of thing my whole life. Do what you want.” Yeah, she's fuckin' crazy.

  “Be that as it may, you're a young woman all alone in a place you have no business being.”

  She turns to look at me with a huge smirk on her face. God, those eyes of hers, so deep blue I could drown in them. She's nothing special, I'm attracted to most women. I'll fuck each and every one of them if they want it. Only if they want it.

  But this girl, I don't know, there's something about her that I can't seem to put my finger on. Just looking at her has my dick stirring in my pants like never before.

  Okay, so she's kinda special.

  I think the fact she's not scared of us is a huge turn on for me. Scaring women doesn't do it for me at all. Not like those damn Devil's Hornet pricks.

  I feel something when I look at her, something I've never felt looking at any other woman. Is she the girl I've been waiting for?

  “Don't worry, poster boy, I can handle myself. Believe me, I can.”

  I bet you can, little lady.

  Before Jett is even finished with his call, the door opens. Shepard walks in with his cell to his ear. He narrows his eyes before pushing his cell into his leather jacket and closing the door behind him.

  Shepard is fifty-one years old. But he's as strong as a man half his age. As strong as his son. Hell, they look so much alike they're often mistaken for brothers. They're the same height, but Jett is bigger built.

  Shepard is the leader of The Snakes Henchmen here in Tennessee. He's a damn good president with many morals. He's not afraid to dole out the punishments when needed. He's also not afraid to kill for what's right. He's taught me some things over the years I've been part of this club. I owe him so much, my life included.

  “Wanna tell me what the hell is going on?” Shepard asks as he steps deeper into the room. I look from Jett to the brunette in front of me. Her eyes are closed, and I can see tears soaking her lashes. What the hell is with this chick?

  “This bitch,” I wince at Jett's choice of words, “walks in here asking for you. How the fuck she even got past the gate is beyond me.” Shepard doesn't say anything; his expression gives nothing away. “She also seems to know my given name. Nobody knows my name!”

  “Calm down, Jett. Have you asked politely for her to tell you how she knows your name?” Jett says nothing. “I didn't think so. You can be far too hot-headed sometimes, boy. Young woman, can you face me, please?” She looks at me for a second before turning around to face Shepard. “Would you mind telling me why you came here?”

  “I came looking for you.”

  “Why?”

  “Don't you recognize me?”

  “Should I?” He raises one eyebrow while crossing his arms over his chest. His eyes travel the length of her body and back up to her face. I know Shepard, he'd never fuck around with any woman, especially since he's married and faithful to one of the most amazing women I know. That's why I know he's not looking at this girl with lust. Which is crazy, she's fucking gorgeous. But he's curious. “Have I seen you before?”

  “Yes,” She nods. “Around fifteen years ago. You knew my mother.” She turns her head to look at Jett, who looks as though he wants to rip her head off. “You knew our mother.” Each one of us stands a little straighter. Their mother?

  Jett opens and closes his mouth so many times it's almost comical. If they have the same mother that means this girl is Jett's sister. It means I know her too. Fuck! But she looks nothing like... No, wait, yeah, she does look like the little girl I once knew.

  But no wonder Jett's looking at her all bug-eyed, he wanted her, even touched her leg in a provocative way. Bet he feels fucking sick. I laugh inwardly, the stupid dick.

  The girl turns back to Shepard. “Don't you recognize me, Daddy?”

  Shepard's hand shoots to his mouth as he gasps a breath.

  This girl really is his daughter?

  It can't be.

  Or can it?

  “It cannot be.”

  “She's lying!” Jett says. “She can't possibly be...”

  “I am.” She cuts him off. “My name is Anna Campbell.”

  “Proves my point!” Jett yells. “My sister’s name is...”

  “Nova Jackson.” She cuts him off again. “My mother's name is Celia Campbell. My father's name is Vincent Jackson, my brother is Tate Jackson. My birthday is the same day as my brother’s, September fifteen. I am twenty-two years old. My brother is twenty-seven. My father is fifty-one. My parents met almost thirty years ago, they were never married but they had two children. Tate and me, Nova. My daddy called me his Supernova.”

  I feel like I shouldn't be here. But then if Shepard didn't want me to hear any of this he would have told me to leave the room already.

  Neither Shepard nor Jett's eyes have left the girl yet. Maybe they've forgotten I'm even here.

  “My mother wanted to leave my father, this way of life, and take her children with her. By that time I was seven, my brother twelve. She told me some story as to why she left her son behind, but she took me with her because she wanted better for me. Or so she said.

  “I as
ked for you both every day until a couple weeks after we left, that's when she told me that you had both died. She told me that I couldn't tell anyone my real name, that if I did, the bad people would find us and kill us like they had my brother and my daddy.”

  I am so fucking confused. My eyes are darting all over the place.

  Okay, I know about Nova, I remember the little girl from when we were kids, the little girl who used to follow Jett and me around like Willow did. The little girl who told me she wanted to marry me one day. But this can't really be her, right?

  “We moved around a lot when I was little. I never knew where I was from one day to the next. There were lots of men. Always men.” She shakes her head. “Bikers mainly. She had a thing for them.

  “Can you believe that? She left because she didn't want this life, yet she just moved from one biker to the next. And none of them were ever very nice. My mother married a man from a dangerous club when I was twelve, a man who wasn't very nice to either of us. A man she killed when I was eighteen.”

  “Celia killed a guy?” Shepard asks.

  Nova nods her head. “He was beating on her like always. I tried to stop him. He got angry, started smacking me around like always. I fought back. He didn't like that, so he stabbed me in the chest.”

  She subconsciously places her hand over her chest, right by her heart. Shit, he could have killed her! Shepard's eyes widen. I've seen that look before, it's the look he gets right before he kills a man.

  “He was laughing at me as I lay there slowly bleeding to death. He leaned over me and told me he was going to watch me die. That it was a shame my father couldn't have been there to see it. He would have liked to watch the look on your face when you saw the light go out of your daughter’s eyes. Mom shot him through the back of his head. I didn't even see it coming. She called an ambulance, and, of course, they managed to save my life.”