by J. L. Leslie
“It’s good to see you.”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake, you still don’t remember my damn name.” she huffs, but still leans in to give me a hug. “I swear, you Varelli brothers are awful with names. I saw Luka last week and he couldn’t remember either.”
Tina? Tammy? Tori?
“Yeah, it’s like a mind thing or something.” I mumble.
“What are you doing here?” she asks.
“Shopping.” I answer, refusing to give in to the urge to look around the store to see where Sully is.
I slow smile spreads across her pretty face. “Me too. I didn’t know we normally shopped in the same places. Nice coincidence.”
“Yep.”
“Well, I guess I’ll get going, Lincoln. I miss seeing you at Diesels.” she winks. “Maybe I’ll see you there soon.”
I watch her walk away, feeling like her name is on the tip of my tongue. She was one of the last fun things my brother and I did together.
“I have what I need.” Sully approaches and I’m thankful that she doesn’t question who I was talking to.
“Good, let’s go check out and then we’ll go grab a bite to eat before we head back.”
She nods and follows me to the register. I can practically see the relief on the lady’s face as we pay and exit her store.
I take Sully to a Mexican restaurant for lunch and laugh as she tries to drink a margarita as big as her face. I swear, her entire head could fit into the glass.
“You’re going to be drunk off your tiny, little ass.” I warn her.
“Nope.” she grins. “I’ve come here before and had two of these.”
“Did you walk out?” I question and she shrugs, a smile playing on her lips. “Exactly.”
“I can finish it and walk out just fine.” she assures me, taking another sip. “And if I do, I want you to tell me why I’m doing this job.”
I swallow down the bite of fajita I’m chewing on. “Forget it.” I say, annoyed. “This little game you’re playing isn’t going to work either.”
Sully looks down at the almost empty margarita and then back up at me. “I’m not playing any games, Lincoln. I’ll be honest with you. Cal told me everything the club did. All the runs, all the distributions, every deal he made about The Lion’s Den. I know all of it, so I hate being in the dark.”
“I’m not Cal.” I answer, unaffected by her confession.
“Still, can’t you understand how difficult it is for me to suddenly be shut out?” she counters.
“Get over it.” I slam some money down on the table and slide out of the booth. Why is it every time I try to have a meal with this woman, this is how it turns out?
“I’ll tell you about a side job Cal did, one that no one else knows about.” she blurts out and this gets my attention.
At least, until a damn bottle is shattered over my head.
~Sully~
The screams in the restaurant echo through my ears as patrons move to shield themselves and some scatter out the door. I didn’t even see the three Drycos members walk up behind Lincoln until it was too late. He winced as the beer bottle broke over his head and then turned to see who his attacker was.
“You’re in the wrong area, Ryker.” The Drycos holding the half-broken bottle sneers. I recognize him as, Lago, one of their enforcers. He’s wearing one of their signature green bandanas around his neck.
Lincoln instructs me without looking at me. “Sully, go wait at my bike.”
I don’t answer him to tell him that won’t be happening. I will not be leaving him here to defend himself against three Drycos.
“I think you’re mistaken, Lago. This is neutral territory.” Lincoln explains.
“Check your fucking map!” Lago yells. “Neutral territory begins on Miramar Avenue. The next street over.”
Lincoln sighs, unsure who is right. He lifts his hands as if in surrender. “We don’t want any trouble today, so we’ll just leave.”
Lago laughs and his two friends join in. “Leave? We didn’t allow Haley to leave, did we? Wasn’t that your brother’s lady?”
I watch Lincoln lower his hands at the mention of Haley Stanley, Luka’s fiancé, that was burned alive in her home by the Drycos. Because of this, I had serious doubts that Lincoln would even join the Rykers.
“Damn, she was a fine piece of ass, wasn’t she? The way she begged and begged as we all took our turns fucking her before we burned her to a crisp!”
An animalistic growl escapes Lincoln as he lunges forward. His fist connecting with Lago’s jaw, making a sickening crack. The patrons at the nearest booths scream and crawl under the table as the brawl between the four men escalate. I can barely discern what’s happening, I only know Lincoln is barely holding his own.
I look around the restaurant for anything I can use to help him. The owner is yelling obscenities, but is surprisingly not threatening to call the police. My bet is that he’s under the protection of the Drycos. Hell, he probably called them here the moment we walked in the door.
Frantic, I snatch a wooden chair from beneath one of the tables and swing it down hard over one of the Drycos, breaking it into pieces. He stumbles, grabbing the back of his head, before slumping to the floor. I know it helped Lincoln some, but he’s still struggling. Blood is gushing from his head wound and his knuckles are bleeding as well.
I rush behind the counter and ignore the owner as he yells at me. I know he has to have a gun behind here somewhere. If he’s smart, he will. I open a drawer beneath the register and there it is. The owner reaches for it and I aim at him, giving him a look that assures him I’m not fucking around.
When I get back to Lincoln, he’s on his knees. Lago has him in a headlock, blood oozes from his nose. Lago’s sidekick is opening a switchblade. I fire the gun at the ceiling and then level it right at the man with the switchblade.
“Back the fuck off!” I yell.
“Blondie, you don’t…”
I fire a shot, the bullet grazing the man’s arm. He drops the knife and yelps in pain. “You bitch! You fucking bitch!”
“Let him up!” I order. “Let him up, or the next one’s in your fucking chest!”
Lago loosens his grip and Lincoln falls forward, coughing and spitting out blood. He climbs to his feet and stumbles towards me. I keep the gun pointed at the Drycos while we walk out. I ignore their warnings and curses.
When we reach Lincoln’s bike, I lower the gun and hold my hands out. “Keys.”
He shakes his head. “Get your stubborn ass on the back of the bike. You’re in no condition to drive.”
Lincoln spits out another clot of blood, eyeing me with annoyance. Finally, he gives in and hands me the keys. When he climbs on behind me, he leans in and whispers in my ear.
“When we get back, I’m going to have a cigarette and you’ll be telling me all about this side job. Blondie.”
I drop the gun to the pavement and look over my shoulder with a smirk. “You really need to quit smoking.”
Chapter Seven
~Lincoln~
I hate riding bitch. Especially on my own fucking bike. So, the moment Sully pulls up at the clubhouse, I don’t bother with a smoke. Instead, I get off and walk inside. I don’t want any Rykers to see that I was riding bitchboy.
“Holy shit, baby, what happened?” Sabrina shrieks and rushes over to me.
It takes me a moment to realize what she’s talking about, but then I see the dried blood on my hands and my shirt. I know it’s all over my face. I can still feel my head wound oozing a little.
“There was a fight, but I’m fine.” I assure her and at that moment Sully walks in.
“Let me get you cleaned up.” Sabrina offers, but I decline.
“I can do it.”
Sabrina pouts, extending her bottom red lip out. “But I want to help and you know I can make it feel better.”
I ease her hands off my side. “I got it.”
I head to the bar and grab a beer out of the fridge. I pop
the top and ignore Sabrina’s pouting stare as I walk down the hall towards my room. When I open the door, Sully is waiting inside with a first aid kit. Without a word, I go into the bathroom and sit down on the toilet lid. Sully wets a washcloth with warm water and begins cleaning away the dried blood on my face.
“Are you okay?” she asks, rinsing the washcloth out and starting again.
“Tell me about this side job.”
“You have a piece of glass still stuck in your head.” she informs me. “It looks like it’s in there deep, Lincoln. You should go to the hospital.”
“No hospitals. Just pull it out.” I instruct. “Now, the job?”
I wince as I feel the glass being plucked from my skull. Then she drops it onto the counter and presses the washcloth against my head.
“None of the other Rykers know about it and that’s the way Cal wanted it. He did supply the club with the revenue from it though.” she explains. “Without that money, I don’t know how lucrative the club would be. It’s how he purchased The Lion’s Den and it’s what he uses to pay salaries.”
I want to know more. I also want to know why she’s telling me this, but I think I know that answer. She wants me to trust her. She knows if she tells me something, then maybe I’ll tell her something.
“The job goes down at the governor’s mansion once per quarter. That’s where the investors are. They pay high dollar for the merchandise and they expect it each quarter.”
“What’s the merchandise?” I question.
“Women.” she answers. “We have a deal with a supplier. We meet him and pick up the women and they sell at an auction at the governor’s mansion.”
“Human trafficking?”
Sully lets out a sigh. “It’s what these women want, Lincoln. They want a better life.”
“How do you know that? Did you ask them?” I ask, trying not to sound angry. “Or did Cal tell you that?”
“I picked them.”
Her words slam into my gut. I picked them. She chose the women who would be sold. The women who would become someone’s property, as if they’re objects or things.
“You chose them?”
“That’s how I know that it’s what they want. They want a chance at a better life. They’re escaping poverty and a life of hell and coming here to gain an opportunity for something better.”
“How do you know it’s better for them, Sully?” I question her. “Do you know these men who purchase them? Do you know what they might do to them? Do you keep in contact with them afterwards?”
I can see these questions running through her mind now. The possibilities of what kind of lifestyle she may or may not have put these women in.
“I can’t think of that now. What’s done is done. Our supplier is delivering the next shipment of women in two weeks. Do you want in or not? I can’t shut this job down. I’ll do it with or without you.”
I think of all the things I’ve been a part of since becoming a Ryker. I’ve collected rent for our rental properties from families who don’t even have enough food to feed their children. I’ve distributed drugs to high schools, knowing that those teenagers don’t stand a chance against addiction. I’ve killed more people than I’d like to admit. This job is what keeps our club running. It’s what provides for my Ryker family.
“I’m in.”
~Sully~
I pull away the washcloth I’m holding to the gash on Lincoln’s head and keep my voice steady when I say, “I’ll give you all the details as we get closer to the meeting. I’ll need to inform our supplier that you’ll be joining me now that Cal is no longer with us.”
“Why didn’t you talk to Burch about this?”
I shrug. “Burch isn’t president material and we both know that.”
Burch would also try to take over and I sure as fuck won’t be having that. I’ve worked too hard to lose everything. With Lincoln, I know that he won’t close me out of a deal that I took part in creating. I need these auctions to continue.
“I think the bleeding has stopped, but I still think you might need stitches.”
Lincoln stands and I back away so he can rinse the blood from his hands in the sink. His stern look is back on his face. I know he disagrees with the trafficking. I could hear it in his voice and from the way he questioned me.
“Lincoln, we have company.”
We both glance at Jason, who has barged in without knocking. He eyes us for a moment, but if he cares that I’m in the bathroom with Lincoln, he doesn’t show it. He walks out without a backward glance.
I follow Lincoln out, not bothering with cleaning up the mess out of pure curiosity as to who our company is. Lincoln goes to stand beside Jason and I go stand beside Sabrina and a few other club whores. I look around the room, wondering who is here. A few minutes later, Burch comes out of the office with an older man following behind him. His dark blonde hair and green eyes are strangely familiar and it doesn’t take me long to realize why. He’s an older version of Cal.
“Rykers, this is Thad Harrison. Cal’s father…”
The words are barely out of Burch’s mouth when his brains splatter across the pool table. His body hits the floor with a thud. The scream that was rising in my throat is muffled by my own hand, but that doesn’t stop other women from screaming, Sabrina included. I put my arm around her, doing my best to keep her quiet.
“Shut the fuck up!” Thad snarls. “Don’t waste your screams on that piece of shit! He was no fucking president!”
I look towards Lincoln and he’s standing with his arms crossed, unsurprised. The girls have quieted down, probably too scared to make a sound.
“Until we find someone worth a shit, I’m your president!” Thad continues. “I will run this motherfucker the way I run my San Diego club! Anyone who doesn’t agree can end up like this cocksucker!”
He kicks Burch’s foot and for some reason, I expect Burch to get up, but he doesn’t. Thad walks around Burch’s body, his nine-millimeter held firmly in his hand.
“Anyone want to leave?” he yells and no one budges. Shit, when it’s leave or take a bullet, there’s not much of a choice.
“Good! That’s out of the way now so we can get to the pleasantries.” He smiles and I can see that he and Cal have that same charismatic smile. “Obviously, I’ll be moving my shit in soon. I don’t do fucking hotels when I can have the Presidential Suite!”
A few Rykers laugh at the silly joke, but I’m the one who’s currently residing in that “Presidential Suite.” I don’t plan on sharing it with Thad Harrison.
“Now, I want to tell you all a little bit about my club. We fucking rule San Diego!”
The Rykers cheer in response, especially Lazarus, and I know it’s what Thad wants. He looks elated that his indiscretion from a mere few seconds ago is basically forgotten.
“We have respect and we have loyalty. Something I’m sure this club had as well.” he says and then continues, “All of my rules will carry over to this club while I’m in charge. Whoever takes over after me can do as they see fit regarding the rules. I’ll start with telling you about my favorite fucking rule though.” This piques some curiosity, mine included. “I see some of you have old ladies here and there are whores as well. Some damn fine ones. Who has an old lady?”
“I do.” Trent raises his hand and I know it’s because he’s proud of his woman. Him and Daphne are always together. I’ve always been fond of Daphne. The times I’ve had to go grocery shopping for the club, she’s one of the first ones to volunteer to go with me.
“And who’s your old lady?” Thad asks, a smile on his face.
Trent grins and throws his arm over Daphne. “She is.” he answers and chuckles ripple through the room.
“Well, woman, come on over here!” Thad instructs and I can see a flash of worry on Daphne’s face.
She does as he says and the moment she reaches him, he jerks her to him and smashes his lips on hers. His hands roam over her body, clutching her ass and squeezing her breas
ts. Trent clenches his fists at his side. Thad releases her, shoving her back towards Trent.
“Any old lady in this club, belongs to me. I can lay claim on any fucking woman in this club. No bitch is off limits.”
The room goes quiet and I know the members must feel the same way as I do about this rule. I just don’t think anyone will do anything about it. Thad Harrison is intimidating. The same way Cal was.
“Now, where is my son’s old lady?” Thad questions. “He told me all about this beautiful, blonde he had. He bragged about how good her pussy was.”
Panic courses through me. This can’t be happening. Please, no.
“I know she’s here. That pretty, little blonde my son was always talking about. Caroline Sullivan. Sully. Where are you, Sully?” Thad says in a sing-song voice.
I step forward, unwilling to show him I’m afraid. He smiles, the same charming smile Cal used to smile at me. He motions for me to come to him and I do as he bids. What fucking choice do I have?
“I didn’t get to honor my son.” Thad says as I walk towards him. “He was my only son.” He slips his arm around me as I reach his side, his green eyes scanning over my body. “I’ll honor him now. Everyone knows the rule I just stated.” he says. “This beautiful, young woman used to belong to my son, rest his soul.”
Thad begins to unbutton his pants as he speaks and I feel tears swelling in my eyes. I quickly blink them back. This isn’t honor. Lincoln starts to step forward, but I shake my head. I can’t bear the thought of him lying on the floor next to Burch.
“I’m sure she knows exactly how to make a president come.”
He pulls his cock out and strokes it, making pre-cum bead at the tip. He puts his hand on my shoulder and forces me to my knees. I look down and close my eyes at the sight of Burch’s lifeless hand beside my knee.
“Now go ahead and show everyone how it’s done.”
Chapter Eight
~Lincoln~
Watching Sully suck off Thad Harrison nearly makes me vomit. How can a father make his son’s old lady do that to him? And the way he’s enjoying it…moaning and fisting his hands in her hair…makes my stomach roll. The dirt on his son’s grave is still fresh for fuck’s sake.
