Devil's Disciples MC (Box Set)

by Scott Hildreth

  I wondered what changed. Why accepting a man like Cash came so easily now yet seemed so out of place when I was younger?

  Marvin was a finance major and a nerd. At the time, I was convinced he was exactly what I needed. I decided it was the failed marriage of a man who wore a suit to work every day that caused me to seek a relationship in someone who was the polar opposite of him.

  “He is.” I looked at her and grinned. “He’s way cool.”

  It was nice to talk about him to someone other than Jennifer. I realized I was fondling a wedge and set it aside as if it were on fire.

  “Sorry,” I said. “I can’t stand those things.”

  Her eyes knitted together. “What?”

  “Wedges. I want them to out of style. They did once. It needs to happen again.” I glared at the display. “I wish I could change things.”

  “There’s so much I wish I could change,” she said. “Don’t even get me started.”

  “With style?” I asked.

  “With everything. This guy I’m seeing, for one. He’s so…he cries. All. The. Time. What happened to men being men? I want a man who makes me feel like he can smash the face of all the creeps that creep on me. James wouldn’t smash a grape, let alone a guy’s face. I want a man who makes me feel like I’m a woman. Trent did that. James makes me feel like I need to be ready to protect him.”

  I chuckled. “I think Cash would smash anyone’s face who looked at me cock-eyed.”

  “His name’s Cash?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “That’s awesome.” She pulled a sandal from the display and studied it. “Does he have any friends?”

  “He’s got a few, but they’re all pretty hard-core bikers.”

  “Hard-core bikers are loyal,” she said. “All you’ve got to do is fuck ‘em, feed ‘em, and never ask questions about what they do when they’re gone.”

  “Can I ask what happened with Trent?” I asked. “Why that didn’t work out?”

  She shrugged. “I forgot the last part of that three-part rule. I guess that’d be my only advice. There’s the life they live at home, and the life they live when they’re gone. Don’t ask questions about what he does when he’s away.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “You said he’s hard-core,” she said. “Does he ride in a club?”

  “He does,” I responded pridefully.

  Her gaze fell to the floor. After a long pause, she looked up. “Yeah. You’ll need to remember that last part, for sure.”

  68

  CASH

  Smoke poured from the homemade barbeque grille’s stack, enveloping the eave of the roof before filtering into the evening sky. The members of the MC stood shoulder-to-shoulder on Gooses’ deck. While they listened intently, Baker’s Ol’ Lady, Andy, stood in the center of the group telling a story.

  Baker was the only member of the club that was in a relationship. His Ol’ Lady was a once-in-a-lifetime find. Although trusting her didn’t come easy, I now saw her as an asset in Baker’s life, and, in turn, mine.

  His persistent introduction of her into outside functions involving the club made sure we were able to make own decisions regarding her worth, and it seemed everyone agreed.

  Baker’s Ol’ Lady was solid.

  I proudly paraded Kimberly toward the group, stopping a few feet shy of the deck’s edge. “Everyone, this is Kimberly. Kimberly, this is,” I pointed at each person as I named them. “Goose, Tito, Ghost, Reno, Baker, and Baker’s other half, Andy.”

  Kimberly stepped onto the deck and introduced herself to everyone, shaking hands like a politician on parade.

  After Kimberly exchanges niceties with each of the men, Andy pulled her aside and talked for a few minutes. Then, they stepped off the deck. As they wandered through the ornately decorated yard, I grabbed a beer and gestured toward Goose with the bottle.

  “Appreciate ya, Brother.”

  He gave a nod. “Appreciate you two taking time to stop by.”

  Baker glanced at the women, and then at me. “Damn, Cash. That girl’s a looker.”

  I sipped my beer. “It ain’t about looks, Bake. She’s a good woman. She makes me think about shit I ain’t never thought about. She might change me.”

  “A leopard cannot change its spots,” he said. “You’ll always be you. She’ll either have to accept you or walk away.”

  I raised my middle finger. “Fuck you.”

  Reno stumbled across the deck, and came to a stop at my side, almost toppling over in the process. He was obviously drunk. I wondered how he made it to the barbeque without wrecking his bike.

  “Damn, Brother. You drunk?” I asked.

  His eyes met mine, but he didn’t respond. After staring blankly at me for a moment, he shifted his gaze to the yard.

  “Invested in some scam,” Ghost whispered. “Took him for fifty grand. He’s been over here drinking since three o’ clock, drowning his sorrows.”

  “He needs to stop with that get rich quick shit,” I said. “Real estate is where it’s at.”

  Ghost cocked his head to the side and pressed his index finger to his lips. “Shhh.”

  I nodded. “Gotcha.”

  “She’s as fine as frog’s hair,” Reno murmured, slurring half the words. “She a Filipino?”

  I shot him a look. “A what?”

  “A Filipino.” He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. “She looks like it.”

  “No, she ain’t a Filipino. She’s a fuckin’ San Diegan, or whatever the fuck people from here call themselves.”

  He craned his neck to take another look. “Looks like a Filipino.”

  “Don’t matter how many times you say it, she ain’t Filipino.”

  “Is she that chick that you were telling the story about?” he asked, his voice ten octaves louder than it needed to be. “Swallowed your schlong like it was a buttered breadstick?”

  I glanced over my shoulder, making sure she wasn’t within earshot. “No. That was someone else. And, if you’re going to be a rude prick, I’ll just ride right back up the block and eat leftover lasagna.”

  “She lives down the street, don’t she?” he asked.

  “Yep.”

  “It is her,” he snapped back, half shouting. “I fucking knew it.”

  “Well, you don’t have to advertise it to the whole neighborhood, you fuckin’ dip-shit,” I whispered.

  He glanced at Kimberly, and then shook his head lightly. “She’s got some big fucking titties, that’s for sure.” He shifted his eyes to me. “You play with those big fuckers when she’s slobbering on your dick?”

  “I’m not going to warn you again.” I lowered my beer and gave him a stern glare. “You need to give it a rest.” I waved my hand toward the house. “Have Goose make you a cup of coffee.”

  The men were respectful regarding Andy, because each of them knew she was Baker’s Ol’ Lady. I suspected they saw Kimberly differently. Considering my past when it came to relationships, it was hard to fault them for forming their opinions.

  Nonetheless, Reno was pushing his luck.

  He shrugged. “I was just saying the obvious--”

  “She’s got pretty teeth,” Ghost interrupted. “They’re straight as fuck. Must have had some good dental insurance as a kid.”

  “She’s got nice flowers, too,” Goose said. “Third house from the end when you’re leaving. Have a look for yourself.”

  Baker chuckled. “Only you would appreciate her flowers, Brother Goose.”

  “Easy to appreciate,” Goose said. “She takes care of them.”

  Reno’s eyes remained fixed on Kimberly. “She must work out, too. Her legs look like--”

  The back of Ghost’s hand slapped against Reno’s bicep with a thwack!

  “God damn,” Reno stammered. “What the fuck was that for?”

  Ghost arched an eyebrow. “She’s Brother Cash’s Ol’ Lady. Be respectful.”

  Reno looked at me. “Is she your Ol’ Lady, or is
she just some chick that swallows your dick?”

  I didn’t know how to answer, so I took a drink of my beer instead of responding. After downing half the bottle, I still didn’t know, so I drank the other half.

  I lowered the bottle and belched. “Let’s say, for the sake of this conversation, that she’s my Ol’ Lady. There ain’t nothing official that’s been decided, but I’m tired of you looking at her like you want to see her naked.”

  He folded his arms over his chest. “So, she ain’t your Ol’ Lady?”

  I crossed my arms in a mimicking fashion. “Define Ol’ Lady.”

  “Ol’ Lady, motherfucker. An Ol’ Lady is an Ol’ Lady. Are you claiming her, or is she free game?”

  “She ain’t free fuckin’ game,” I hissed. “I can tell you that much.”

  “Then she’s your Ol’ Lady.” He lowered his arms. “Why didn’t you just say so?”

  I looked at Baker.

  He shrugged. “He’s right. If she’s not free game, she’s your Ol’ Lady.”

  I turned toward Tito. “Damn, son. You’re being quiet. Oh, wait.” I chuckled as I slapped my hand against his arm. “You can’t talk, can ya? Or eat barbeque. Maybe Goose’ll make you a smoothie. How’s that coming along, anyway?”

  He nodded.

  “Saw you over at the neighbor’s house last night,” I said. “You poke that shit yet, Brother?”

  He glared.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  He pulled his phone from his pocket, tapped his fingers against the screen, and then pointed it at me.

  DIDN’T TAKE YOU LONG TO CHANGE THE SUBJECT

  “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  He typed another message, and then poked the phone in my face.

  BAKER SAID SHE’S YOUR OL LADY AND YOU STFU. EMBARRASSED?

  “We were done talking about it,” I said. “At least I answered the question. You poke your pork in that neighbor’s twat yet?”

  He pecked at the phone, then turned the screen to face me.

  AN ASIAN ELEPHANT WEIGHS TWICE THAT OF AN AFRICAN FOREST ELEPHANT, 12,000 POUNDS

  I chuckled. “It’s gonna be like that, huh?”

  He nodded.

  “That’s fine,” I said with a laugh. “She’ll tell me. She comes over and gets all jacked up on wine and spills her guts. Hell, I’ll just walk across the street and ask her tonight.”

  He pushed his phone into his back pocket and shrugged.

  “Food will be ready in about fifteen,” Goose said. “Smoked ham, smoked ribs, and smoked pork loin. The ham’s uncured, I think you’ll like it.”

  “I’m ready,” I said. “Haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

  “Why the fuck not?” Ghost asked.

  I grinned. “Been busy doing other shit.”

  He glanced at Kimberly, who was still talking to Andy, and then looked at me with both brows raised. “That gal’s gonna give you a heart attack.”

  I chuckled. “Not if I give her one first.”

  “She’s good people?” he asked.

  I gave a nod. “She wouldn’t be here if she wasn’t.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Is she built for this shit?”

  “You find out who the tough guy in the bar is when someone comes in with a gun,” I said. “Time will tell, I guess.”

  He patted me on the shoulder. “I suppose you’ll find out. Sooner or later.”

  I tossed my empty beer bottle and grabbed another from the ice bin. When I returned to the deck, Reno and Baker were gone. I searched the yard and spotted Reno talking to Kimberly and Baker talking to Andy.

  Fifteen minutes earlier, it would have bothered me to see Reno with Kimberly. After Baker’s determination that she was my Ol’ Lady, I knew he’d be respectful of her, and of me.

  “Been trading off with Tito listening to that guy in Encino,” Ghost said. “He’s an interesting fucker.”

  “How so?”

  “He finances a pot farm in Colorado, owns a car dealership in Kansas, and runs a card game in LA. Game costs five hundred grand to get a seat. Sounds like he has everyone from ball players to politicians playing poker. Then, he sells smack on the side. No wonder he beats the drug charges. Prick’s probably got the cops on his payroll. Prick only leaves his home about once a year, and that time is coming up in about a week.”

  I glanced toward Kimberly, and then looked at Ghost. “We going to hit him?”

  “Baker’s gonna decide after Tito gives him the transcripts. If so, it’ll be while he’s out of town. Next week, late, is what it sounds like.”

  “Gonna be big?” I asked.

  “Not as big as that diamond dealer, but it’ll be close.”

  I sipped my beer and gazed out into the yard. Kimberly stood beside a deck positioned in the middle of Goose’s yard. She admired potted flowers while Reno babbled at her side.

  Every now and again, she’d look up and smile.

  “He’ll be fine,” Ghost said. “Don’t worry. He’s probably telling her about the money he lost.”

  “Just afraid he’s going to say something stupid. He always says dumb shit when he’s drunk.”

  He looked at him and chuckled. “He says some dumb shit, doesn’t he?”

  I trusted Reno but viewed him differently than the rest of the fellas. He was an outsider that we’d allowed into the club. Although he’d been with us for a decade, I still felt he was earning his stripes. As the five of us had been together since childhood, I suspected Reno would always be playing catch up.

  “Yeah,” I said. “He’s good at blowing shit up, but he’s bad at being subtle.”

  “He doesn’t have a subtle bone in his body.”

  I raised my beer bottle in mock toast. “Agreed.”

  I was relieved to see Reno walk away from Kimberly, leaving her to talk to Baker and Andy. While she laughed at something Baker said, Reno meandered to where we stood.

  After getting a beer, he stepped between us and took a drink. Then, he took another. Wearing a shitty smirk, he looked right at me and held my gaze the best his drunken eyes would allow.

  “What?” I asked.

  He twisted his mouth to the side and took another drink. “Can’t decide if I wanna tell ya.”

  “Tell me what?”

  He shrugged.

  When everyone was drunk, it was always a good time. When one person was drunk and everyone else was sober, it made me wonder why any of us ever got drunk.

  “Got good news and I got bad news,” he said. “Which you want first?”

  Ghost chuckled. “Give him the bad news.”

  Reno teetered from side to side while he waited for me to respond.

  “Bad news,” I said.

  He glanced out at the yard. “It’s pretty bad.”

  “I’m a big boy,” I said jokingly. “Let’s hear it”

  “Found out the gal you’re fucking is a nigger,” he whispered. “Thought you’d want to know.”

  It took an instant for what he said to register. When it did, my ears began to ring.

  I couldn’t remember the last time I’d blacked out, but it had happened in the past. When it did, the outcome was never favorable.

  When things came back into focus, Ghost had me in a choke hold, and the sound of people screaming seemed to be coming from everywhere.

  I glanced down. Reno was at my feet. Goose was leaning over him. Blood was splattered all over the wooden deck.

  I raised my hands in surrender. “I’m done. Get your arm off my fuckin’ neck.”

  Ghost released his grip. “You cool?”

  I rubbed my neck. “I’m good.”

  “God damn it, Cash,” Baker stepped onto the deck. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

  “He deserved it, Bake,” I said. “Cocksucker’s lucky I didn’t kill him.”

  Baker pushed Goose to the side and looked Reno over. “Call an ambulance,” he shouted over his shoulder.

  “Fuck,” Ghost said under his breath.


  Baker stood and waved his hand toward Reno. “Look at him, Cash. You’re telling me he deserved that?”

  Ghost cleared his throat. “Hate to say it, but you’d have done the same thing, Boss.”

  “What’d he do?” Baker asked.

  Standing just beyond the deck, Kimberly gawked at the group with wide eyes. Wide eyes that were filled with fear.

  I looked at Ghost and shook my head. “Tell him later. When we’re gone.”

  As I stepped off the deck, I slowly filled with regret over everything that had happened. From punching Tito to pummeling Reno, however, one thing had been made crystal clear. So clear that there was no denying it.

  Kimberly meant more to me than I was readily willing to admit.

  I had my doubts, however, that she’d be willing to continue. I could apologize all I wanted, but Baker was right.

  A tiger couldn’t change its stripes.

  69

  KIMBERLY

  Cash wasn’t simply the man I was fucking. The pain I felt proved there was much more to the relationship than that.

  I ached.

  The same mind-numbing pain that took possession of me after the death of my parents returned. As much as I loved the way Cash made me feel, I knew I couldn’t live a life with a man who used violence as a means of resolve. By his own admittance, he was the MC’s muscle.

  It was his job to do just that.

  Seeing it happen twice over a one-month period caused me to realize a lifetime of exposure to such violence would be more than I could handle. Each time the club required him to use his violent nature, the tables could easily turn. One day, he could be the man who was on the ground in a pool of blood. Continuing any kind of relationship with him would only prolong the inevitable. One day, he would be taken from me.

  I knew I could handle another relationship.

  I simply couldn’t handle another loss.

  I stepped into the living room. “I think I want you to go.”

  He lifted his hands and turned his palms to face me. “Give me a minute to explain,” he pleaded.

  He hadn’t spoken in the ten minutes that had passed since the lop-sided fight. I didn’t know that I wanted him to, either. I wanted him to leave. Without argument or explanation. I hoped the pain I was feeling would leave with him.