DESERT KING: RB MC

by Jax Hart

  “Babe.”

  Kneeling in the dirt, I press my hands into my eyes, willing the salty tears back. I lay the flowers on the ground. “Damn, girl. I wanted to die with you. I miss you so much.”

  I press my palms flat on the ground, trying to feel her through the layers of rock and soil separating us. “Sometimes I think I hear you. You tell me to let go and move on. But I just can’t, babe. You were it for me.”

  I stay here at my love’s final resting place until the sun singes my skin. “I love you. I’ll be back soon, babe. Wait for me. Don’t go falling in love while you’re in heaven.” I kiss two fingers than trace it over the cross.

  I have Club business to attend to now. Things are getting messy. Now that some semblance of normal is back, every MC, street gang, and cartel wants a piece of the action. The latest hot commodity is blood plasma from recovered patients. That geek fuck might’ve saved the world, but his antibodies are made in a lab. There’s nothing like the real thing especially since the cost of mass production is high. But no one wants to donate. The survivors are scared shitless. The black market is ready to supply the demand, but first they need to find the survivors and take their blood like vampires. The Royal Bastards are voting on it. Not just us either. All the Chapters. If we’re in, we’re in. But if we vote it down, someone else will fill that void and that’s the problem. I’d rather it be us. At least we live by a code. Sure, I’d take the plasma, willing or not but I wouldn’t kill for it. They are survivors of something, who would we be to take their life for it?

  I turn down the dirt road at the base of the mountain that leads to our Clubhouse. Protected by chain link and barbwire and tricked out with the latest surveillance equipment, it’s a fortress. The back of our property is the black, rugged terrain of the mountain’s base. The rest of the land is flat in all directions. No one can sneak up on us in our compound, During the outbreak, we let people pitch tents on our lands after being swabbed. Our people don’t fear us, they know we protect them from everything.

  My sister, Regan, is out front tending the garden. She made us haul logs and soil for hours. But her garden kept us fed with fresh, organic fruits and vegetables. Regan moved in during COVID and never left. It’s a real pain in the ass having your little sister constantly underfoot. Especially when she’s hot and curvy. I’ve planted my fist in more than one brother’s face for staring too long. Regan ain’t no sweetbutt. She’s off-limits. When we host other Chapters, I’ve locked her in her room more than once. I can’t be distracted or get into fights with my brothers. It ain’t good for my image as Prez.

  “What are you growing now?” I plant my hands on my hips, noticing an addition to the garden.

  “Herbs.”

  “Hemp?”

  She shakes her head.

  “At least plant some shit we can make money off of.”

  She giggles. “All this kept us alive.”

  “I know.”

  “What’s wrong? Besides, the obvious. Who did you get into it with now?”

  “Who else.”

  Her spine stiffens. “Edge?”

  I nod, looking away.

  “She wouldn’t want this. You need to let it go.” Regan places a hand on my arm.

  “I can’t. I’ve tried.”

  “Have you?” I shrug off her touch. She sighs. “They’re all waiting inside for you to make the vote.”

  My brow lifts. “If you had a seat at the table, what would yours be?”

  She shrugs. “I see both sides.”

  “Me, too.”

  “You’ll do the right thing, Tarak. You always do. Even when the right thing is the wrong thing.”

  “Thanks, for the vote of confidence, sis.”

  “Anytime.”

  “You didn’t cause any trouble when I was gone, did ya’?”

  “Not as much as you did.”

  “He had it coming.”

  “So, you decided to waltz down to the Triple XXX and just walk in?”

  “I was in the mood for some tits and ass,” I shrug, grinning like a mother fucker.

  “Oh yeah? Did you get any?” The memory of how that girl stood before me in her dirty jeans and thin T-shirt runs through my head. Her eyes returned fire. Her tiny fists were balled. She was beautiful in that moment. Her defiance stirred my blood. She also stirred Edge’s. Her little-bitty tits and no ass didn’t matter. All that mattered in that moment when she baited me was making her beg for my touch.

  I force my lips into a wry grin. “Of course, I did.”

  “Slut.”

  Shrugging, I bend down to kiss her cheek, then head into the clubhouse. My men dip their heads as I walk past. “It’s time for church!” I call out, round the corner and push the heavy double oak doors leading to the inner sanctum open.

  Two dozen eyes question me as I enter the room. Taking my seat at the head of the table, I pick up the oak gavel, slamming it down.

  “Today’s vote will be on the harvesting and distribution of antibody plasma on the black market. All those in favor say ‘aye’.”

  No one speaks.

  “Fine. I’ll vote first. Aye.” Brows lift. I grin like a mother-fo. “What? You didn’t think this Apache had the balls for it? Either it’s us or the Scorpions.” One by one, my men follow my vote for aye. I slam the gavel down. “It’s done. I’ll call the rest of the chapters and report our vote. The entire MC has to decide. But the New Mexico Chapter is in.”

  Slamming my chair back, I head to my office shutting the door. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I wonder what in the heck I just got the Club into. Hell. I hate taking shit from survivors. They earned their right to live but the world is still a hard and bitter place sometimes. I’m the best bad guy out there. At least that’s what I keep telling myself.

  Sinking down in my chair, I open my desk draw choosing a new burner. The MC runs just about everything in this part of the state and it burns the ass of some up and coming federal agent, Kinkaid. The man has a friggin’ hard-on for me. My phones are tapped, drones fly overhead. Last time one came close, I took out my rifle, shooting it down. If Kinkaid knew the call I just made, he’d have my ass in a federal prison past eternity.

  I decide to call New Orleans first. Then New York. I’m still pissed at F.O.C.U.S. for that stunt at the Triple XXX. He has some crazy ass idea that he could triple profits by circulating women from different clubs. He thinks men get tired of staring at the same pair of tits on a stage and thought by having women do two-week stints, rotating them around strip joints would keep the customers coming and spending more. The Club spread us a bit thin these past few years, giving more than taking and keeping our people fed and their bills paid. Now we need to replenish our cash reserves. Plasma and pussy are better than ways the other MC’s make cash. At least that’s how I’m living with my choices.

  “Jameson.”

  “Tarak.”

  “We just took the vote. We’re in.” He breathes hard through the phone.

  “It’s an ugly business.”

  “You still have your contacts in Hong Kong?”

  “I do. Bastards.”

  “If it’s not us, others will move in.”

  “I know, brother. I’ll take a vote here and report up the chain. Compton was a no. So was Dallas.”

  “Shit.”

  “Gerard wants a meet in Vegas. All the Chapter Prez’s. This decision is too big not to have a council meet on.”

  “When is he thinking?”

  “Three days.”

  “Well I guess I better go pack then. See you there?”

  “You will, brother.”

  I toss the burner in the trash and stand. I need coffee with a splash of bourbon. Maybe two. Maybe, I’ve gone soft. Maybe I need to return to my roots, clear my head and become the Apache warrior within me.

  I walk back out to the main room, stopping short at the sight of the men from Creed—Smith, and Rog, at my bar. “Shit. I forgot you were still here.”

  “We want
ed to see how the vote went.”

  “We are in, but the rest of the chapters are still voting. It will be all or nothing. Globally.”

  Smith’s jaw clenches. “We’re not down with that, brotha. This will impact our alliance.”

  I nod. “If it’s not us, it’ll be the Scorpions. At least we have a code. I don’t want to do it But at least we’ll handle it with the least amount of violence.”

  “So fucked up,” Roger, breathes. “My wife won’t like it.”

  “I’m glad I don’t have one.” But as soon as I speak the words, I know it’s a lie. I almost had one. Mandy…

  “Roque’s woman had it. He’s gonna go berserk. You want a war with the Salvatore Syndicate?”

  “I have no choice!” I roar, kicking a chair over. The two men immediately stand. “Look, I don’t want a war with anyone but my back’s up against a wall here.” The three of them eye me while I pace across the room with clenched fists. The decision isn’t sitting right with me either. But the survival of the entire human race is on the line. In my head I hear Mandy’s sweet voice. “If you lose your humanity, humans are already extinct…”

  I stroke my chin, “Maybe I’ll call Salvatore myself. Explain the situation.”

  “I’ll arrange something.” Roger gets up. “We’re heading back north.”

  “Wait. I’ll ride with you. I’m heading to Vegas to meet with Gerard.”

  “Boys!” I bellow to my men still at church. “It’s time to ride!”

  I pack a small roll bag and head out. “Sis, you better be good while I’m gone. Don’t leave the compound. I mean it. Shit is about to go south.”

  Regan is still bent over her garden. “I’ll do as I please.”

  “Regan,” I warn.

  Her eyes roll. “You men, think you run the world.”

  “We do.”

  “Don’t. We live outside of Santa Fe. The most exciting thing going down is our cousin’s Quinceanera next month..

  “Shit, I had forgotten about that.”

  “We’re hosting, idiot.”

  “Here?”

  “No. We’re closing down Main Street since she invited the whole town.”

  “Security is gonna be fucked.”

  She raises a gardening tool, “Sorry?”

  I wave it off, “Add it to the rest of things on my plate that I need to deal with.”

  “I’d help you if I could, but I’m kinda busy.” She winks, lifts the hose, and squirts me. “Oops.”

  “You’re gonna pay for that,” I growl, stalking forward. Instead of backing off she presses the nozzle down on full blast.

  I charge.

  Squealing, she runs back while keeping the hose on me, but I outweigh her by a hundred pounds. I grab the hose in one hand, bending it in half cutting off the water. “I’d pay you back but all I’d be doing is giving the boys a show.” I nod to her white T-shirt.

  She shrugs. “Not sorry. That’s payback.”

  “For what?”

  “The vote.”

  “Spying again?”

  “I have my sources.”

  I shake my head. “If you sleep with any of the guys, I’ll cut their balls off myself and lock you back in your room.”

  “Please. As if any of your blind sheep interest me.”

  “Good. It better stay that way,” I grit out. “I need to change now, thanks a lot sis.” Her laugh follows me. Pausing, midstride, I turn. Regan has always been a bit wild, a bit of a troublemaker. And she always seems to find a way to insert herself in Club business.

  “Actually, little sis you could help out while I’m gone. Make up for being such a brat.”

  “Oh?”

  “I have a job for you. There’s a new girl in town. I told her to be gone by Friday. Make sure she is.”

  “What did she do.”

  “Piss me off.”

  “Obviously.” Regan’s eye’s light up. “Did you…?”

  “Hell, no. She disgusts me.”

  “Uh-huh.” You know what I think?

  “No. But that won’t stop you from telling me.” I place my hands on my hips.

  “I think you’re afraid of her.”

  “Mouse?” I laugh, heartily. “That’s funny.”

  “Mouse? It is funny. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure she’s gone.”

  “Regan,” I bite out. “Don’t get yourself involved. She’s a spy for Edge.”

  That finally snaps my sister to attention. “I’ll find out everything I can on the girl.” Her eyes are fire as she picks up a shovel and slams it down hard into the Earth.

  “Good. I knew I could count on you.”

  6

  Amber

  Three days later…

  “You’re good with him.”

  “Thanks. He’s amazing.”

  We both turn our heads. Evan is busy at his easel painting. He has natural talent and many of his pieces hang in oak frames around the room.

  “I knew you were the right fit. My family thought it was crazy to hire you, without meeting you in person. But I just had a gut feeling you were the right person.”

  “That’s how I felt, too.”

  “What’s wrong? I thought you liked it here?”

  “It’s only been three days… but yes. I’m sure I’m staying.”

  “Then why are you twisting the ends of your shirt and biting your lip. And every time a bike goes by, you wring your hands.”

  I blow a lock of hair off my face. “I’d never win big in Vegas, eh?”

  “Nope.”

  “Ugh, it’s nothing. Just some dumb-ass biker giving me a hard time.”

  “Tell me about it. I was married to one.”

  “Was he a Royal Bastard?”

  “Totally.” We look at each other and laugh. “I like you Amber, not just as Evan’s para. I was hoping we could be friends. And by the way—I’m dying to get you into my salon. I’m not into girls, but I know you’ve caught me staring.”

  My face heats because I have caught Jenny looking at me when she thought I didn’t notice.

  “I didn’t want to impose but my ends… I tried to dye them myself…”

  “Let me see.”

  My hands undo the sloppy bun on top my head.

  She lifts a lock of my hair. “I can work with this.”

  “Really?”

  “Please. You would not believe what people did to themselves during the pandemic when salons were closed. I was booked solid for a year.”

  “I’ll bet,” I smile.

  “Evan’s dad is taking him for tacos later. Swing by my salon, I’ll stay open for you.”

  “I couldn’t impose…”

  “Is it about money? I’m offering.”

  “No. It’s not that. I can pay…I just… can you do more than hair? Would it be weird?”

  “What did you have in mind?”

  I swallow thickly. “I don’t want to be unseen anymore. People look through me, not at me.”

  “I can, do… more. But Amber, I can’t fix what’s in here.” The tip of her finger brushes my chest. It’s not sexual and yet it is…

  She shrugs. “I do kinda go both ways. There’s something about you… a frailty layered over great strength. It’s like you can’t decide which one to wear.”

  “Are you a mind reader?”

  “It’s the Native American in me. My great-grandmother was a seer.”

  “Wow. That’s beyond impressive.”

  “My half-brother insists we connect with the land and our heritage. Once a month we go to the reservation in the mountains… we smoke pipes, set up a sweat lodge as a way to keep our culture alive.”

  “I wish I had something like that. My family isn’t into culture or religion.”

  “Maybe I’ll take you with me next time we go.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “Are you coming by later?”

  I nod.

  “Good. Have a good day with my boy. Open Instagram. Find a few looks you might wa
nt to try. And when my Royal Bastard of an ex swings by, give him the bird for me.”

  “Yeah, ok.” I roll my eyes. I smile as she kisses Evan on his head before she leaves for work.

  “You ready?”

  I nod, anxious to see my big reveal. Jenny spent hours, plucking, exfoliating, and putting some weird cream on my face. Then she artfully raised her shears to my long locks, “promising not to cut too much.”

  I held my breath as she applied strong smelling dye to my hair, but she swore I’d look “like a desert rose in full bloom,” by the time she’s done.

  Neither of us speak as she wheels me around to face the mirror.

  “How is this possible? You did this just with make-up and hair dye?”

  “What can I say, I’m good. Right?”

  My tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth. Gone is the plain, brown mouse girl with pale skin and muddy eyes. In her place is a stunning brunette with caramel highlights and light pink tipped ends. My eyes are wide and lined with pink and black liner. My lashes are long and full. She put a light tanner and coat of blush on my cheeks.

  “All I need to do now is gain twenty pounds.”

  “That won’t be hard, girl. Just stop at Tommy’s Tacos on your way home every night. Everything is deep-fried and the avocado guac is homemade.”

  “Yum.”

  “Are you ready to tell me about this biker giving you a hard time?”

  I shrug. “He hates me. For no reason either.”

  “Is he a Royal Bastard?”

  I nod. “Tarak.”

  The brush stills in her hand. “Tarak?! Girl, what did you do to piss off the Desert King?”

  “Desert King?” My mouth tips down. “He’s just a bully.”

  “He saved this town. Kept us fed, protected, and loved. I’d do anything for the man. Be careful what you say about him. He’s beloved here.”

  “Great. I guess I should just pack up and leave like he asked.”

  “He must have a reason if he asked you to do that.”

  “Nope. Not one. He’s just an arrogant prick.”

  “They all are. But at least Tarak has a big heart. That’s what makes him different than the rest of the MC’s. He’s a good Prez.”

  “If you say so. My first impression of him was that he was just a big baby.”