ANARCHY (Iron Kings MC, #4)

by Franca Storm

  Overhauling club security was no small feat. In fact, at first they’d tapped somebody else to do it, a real pro. His name was Jesse Silver and he’d specialized in security and protection for years. But right now he was apparently undergoing some sort of club training with the President of Iron Kings MC, so that he could be brought into their club as one of them, rather than remaining as an independent contractor.

  Well, I was glad it had worked out that way. And I was ready. I just had to tamper down my nerves and get organized. I had a lot of ground to cover. The clubhouse itself. Club family residences. Club businesses.

  But, for today, I would be starting work on an Iron Kings business. My dad had made a deal with Spartan. He’d promised to safeguard his latest venture if he agreed to put it on his territory and give him a stake in it. I guessed he’d realized how big it could become, given that Spartan was planning a series of the new ventures with this one being the test.

  A modern day burlesque club. This first one was named Veil.

  As I continued walking up to the building, I smacked into something hard, all the breath leaving my lungs.

  What the hell?

  Stumbling back, I looked up to see a guy grinning at me with amusement.

  “Uh… sorry.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ve done it myself, too many times. Always have my head stuck in blueprints.” He held out his hand to me. “Evan. I’m foreman on this project.”

  I shook his offered hand, his strong grip enclosing mine. His hands were rough and callused, a tough, working man’s hands.

  I took him in.

  Wowzers. He was something.

  His dirty blonde hair was overgrown and shaggy, visible beneath his white hard hat. His striking hazel eyes looked like they were twinkling because of the bright morning sun, as they gazed back at me. A light dusting of stubble covered his chin. He was towering over me and he had to be way into the six-foot category. He was built, too. I could see that much from the way his biceps were straining in his white muscle t-shirt. The tool belt strapped around his blue jeans did something to me. I didn’t know what it was, but I just loved a guy who worked with his hands. It just screamed strength and manliness to me. I noted his steel-toe boots.

  I had mine on, too, a precaution when walking onto a jobsite. I didn’t have a tool belt strapped to my jeans, but I had a tape measure clipped to my belt, along with my laptop bag thrown over my shoulder. It was hot out, so I wasn’t wearing a jacket, just a white tank top. My hair was pulled up into a high ponytail to keep it out of my face.

  He pulled his hand back and then grasped the hem of his t-shirt, shaking it out and muttering, “This heat is sweltering and it’s not helping that there’s no A/C hooked up inside the building yet. Just giving you a warning. You’re about to walk into an inferno.”

  I caught sight of part of a tattoo on his chest.

  A red flag in my world. Oh no.

  If I’d learned anything over the last few weeks, it was to check thoroughly. So, quickly, I found myself asking, “Are you club? Do you belong to Iron Kings?” Or, maybe, he was a new prospect for my dad?

  So far, he’d gotten my interest, but I didn’t want to engage with him any further if he was a frigging biker. I wouldn’t make that mistake ever again.

  “Nope. Just been contracted to build this thing,” he said, gesturing to the club a few feet in the distance. “I’m not a biker, Miss Calloway,” he added, grinning as he emphasized my name.

  “Expecting me, I see.”

  “Well, I’m foreman. I’ve got to be on the ball.”

  “I like that.”

  He was a breath of fresh air, for sure. Lighthearted and warm. It was a nice change from the intensity of the bikers I was used to being around. Bikers just like Damien “Anarchy” Fowler.

  I caught myself. I didn’t want to be thinking about him. Ever again.

  After that embarrassing situation at his motel a few days ago, even a second spent recalling it had me cringing. The way he’d left me hanging like that… it’d been brutal. He’d seemed into it and I’d managed to summon the courage to tell him to fuck me. I’d actually said the words out loud with an inner confidence I wasn’t known for. Sure, outwardly I could fake it if I needed to. But inwardly was usually a different story. Not with Damien, though. He seemed to bring out a brazen, bold side of me. A part of me that’d always remained dormant, because that was what had always been expected of me. Sticking to the sidelines, never questioning what I was ordered to do, remaining subservient to the whims of the men in my life whose protection had damaged me in ways they had no clue about.

  That bastard had just shut me down and treated me like I was just a foolish girl with a childish crush on him. Well, he could go straight to hell. I didn’t need someone in my life who made me feel that way.

  I couldn’t think of a better way to put him out of my mind, than being with someone else, having fun with someone else. Fun. It’d been a long time since I’ve had any of that. Something light-hearted like this guy seemed to be. Simple.

  Feeling oddly brazen in my determination to put all of that crap behind me, I stepped into him and lifted the hem of his t-shirt to get a proper look at his tattoo.

  “Wow,” I exclaimed. “It’s amazing.”

  It was a tiger tattooed in gold and black ink. Its head filled the space between his impressive abs and his navel and its two front paws extended below the waistband of his jeans. Very sexy.

  “Thanks,” he said, looking down at it too.

  “Did Ray do it for you?”

  “No. There’s a great place just outside the city. I got it done there.”

  “Yeah?” I said, releasing his shirt and stepping back.

  “Sounds like you want one.”

  “I want a second one.” I turned around and lifted my tank top up. “I already have this.”

  “Wow. That’s a sweet tat.”

  I put my shirt back down and turned back to him. “Thanks.” He smiled, then his gaze fell to the blueprints I was now clutching tightly at my side. “Come on. I’ll give you a tour. Hank, our electrician, will be here in a bit and you can get started on working out all the security logistics.”

  “Don’t you—aren’t you busy?”

  “I can take a little time out of my day to help out a pretty lady,” he said with a sweet smile.

  I chuckled. “Much appreciated.”

  “Anytime, Miss Calloway.”

  “Call me Hayley.”

  He grinned. “Will do.”

  6

  ~Hayley~

  THIS WAS THE ONE.

  I smiled to myself in the mirror as I took in the fifth outfit I’d tried on tonight.

  I’d paired my vibrant-blue lace dress that matched my hair color with my studded black leather jacket and it had proven to be an awesome combo. My studded black ankle boots added an extra touch of edginess to it. I was wearing my hair down, loosely curled.

  Feeling good with what I was wearing was actually helping to tamper down my nerves at what was ahead of me tonight.

  My first date in months.

  The last time had been sometime during my final year of college. A blind date, which had been terrible and completely awkward with absolutely no connection between me and the guy.

  This would be different, though. I’d taken my time getting to the point of actually agreeing to go out on a date.

  After a couple of weeks of flirting and stolen glances at the jobsite of Veil, Evan had actually gotten up the courage to ask me out on a date.

  Well, he’d gotten up the courage to ask my dad’s permission to take me out.

  It was revoltingly archaic, but that was the written-in-stone rule when it came to Linc “Python” Calloway’s club princess daughter. He had to know about it, he had to do a thorough vetting of the guy in question, and he had to give his go-ahead. Failing any of that, the guy in question would be a dead man. Possibly, literally.

  Stuff like that was all the more reason
for me to earn my stripes with this security job and then leverage it into a lucrative position elsewhere, giving me the opportunity and means to finally move far away, out from under my dad’s thumb.

  “You look stunning, sweetheart.”

  I turned at the sound of my mom’s voice to see her leaning against my doorframe, smiling widely.

  “Thanks, Mom.” Doubt crept in now that my little getting ready bubble had been burst. I looked down at myself frowning in concern. “You don’t think it might be a little too much?”

  “You’re seeing a movie, then having dinner at Robin’s Bistro. That place is casual chic, which is exactly what your outfit is projecting. You’re golden.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. Okay, thanks.”

  She walked further into my room. Taking a seat on the edge of my bed, she eyed me and asked, “Are you sure it’s the outfit that’s making you so nervous?”

  “What else would it be?”

  “The guy?”

  I flinched. I should’ve been used to it by now. My mom didn’t pull any punches, didn’t tiptoe around anything. It was one of the reasons she was able to handle a man like my dad so well. She was a tough ballbuster. It was something I wanted to find more of in myself.

  “He’s a nice guy, Mom. Funny. All about the levity.”

  She grunted.

  “What?”

  “Boring, no?”

  “I… no.”

  “I know you, sweetheart. And I know of Evan. He doesn’t seem like your type.”

  “Well, maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do. Maybe I don’t know myself that well. I haven’t exactly explored this whole area very much.”

  “You dated in college.”

  “Once, or twice. Not much.”

  She released a sigh, then forced a smile that she clearly didn’t feel, then spoke words she clearly didn’t believe, telling me, “Sometimes it takes a while to develop a connection. That’s what dating is for anyway, yes?”

  I went with her falsities, not wanting to delve any deeper into the actual truth, for fear that I really wouldn’t like what I found. “Exactly.”

  She kissed the top of my head. “Have a great night, sweetheart. You’re perfect.”

  “Thanks, Mom. I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  As she reached the door, something occurred to me, something, in all the excitement of me actually going out on a date for the first time in so long, I’d forgotten to ask earlier. “Mom, wait.”

  She stopped at the door and turned back to me, arching an eyebrow. “What’s wrong?”

  “Uh… nothing. I was just wondering who’s scheduled as my protection detail tonight?”

  “Grim, I believe.”

  “You’re sure? Not any of the Iron Kings guys?”

  She thought on it for a moment, then confirmed, “Definitely Grim. I remember your dad telling me that his excuse for working through the night this time is a meeting with the Iron Kings guys, including a conference call with Spartan, to discuss their progress so far with everything.”

  Relief coursed through me. “Thanks.”

  She smiled and left my room, heading back downstairs.

  I didn’t know what the hell I would’ve done if Anarchy had been assigned to my protection tonight, during my date with another guy.

  Urgh. Why had that thought even crossed my mind? He wouldn’t have cared. He didn’t care. He’d made that clear with the way he’d pushed me away, then blatantly turned me down as I’d basically begged him to fuck me.

  All of that embarrassment just spurred me on for my date tonight, because I wanted it buried down deep and I needed something else to bury it.

  I snatched my purse off my bed, then headed out the door.

  It was going to be a great night.

  A great date.

  I could do this.

  ***

  It was way over his head.

  I could see it, plain as day.

  The more I talked and tried to explain, the more he seemed to struggle.

  He didn’t understand the work that I did. He clearly couldn’t.

  It wasn’t just struggle from him either.

  It was boredom.

  Wonderful.

  Well, it wasn’t like his work was particularly fascinating to me either. I appreciated what he did, but it just didn’t spark an interest or curiosity in me.

  Not like Anarchy’s had. God, I’d gotten such a thrill from seeing what he could do, excitement had been bubbling inside me. I’d had goosebumps from it. He was so technically minded, an actual genius at it. He was as good at his job as I was. Bests of the bests, is what we were. The way it could work hand-in-hand with what I did was incredible, and something I wanted to explore more.

  Stop! Don’t think about that ass.

  Moving on, remember?

  Evan took another bite of his fancy pasta, his eyes darting all around Robin’s Bistro, before settling back on me. “I don’t see them anywhere.”

  I cocked an eyebrow. “Who?”

  He lowered his voice. “You know, the guys from Lone Outlaws?”

  Oh. “Well, they’re around, believe me.” They always were.

  “Huh.”

  “Does it make you uncomfortable?” I asked, worriedly.

  Surprising me, his eyes lit up. “Just the opposite. I think it’s impressive.”

  “What is?”

  “The well-oiled machine that the club is. They aren’t just a bunch of hardasses riding their bikes. The club is a powerful entity made up of shrewd businessmen, warriors. The real deal. Your dad is really something, Hayley. You’re so lucky that you were born into all of that.”

  His view of the club was very… simplistic. Very rosy. It was a great deal more complicated than that. Especially considering my place in it.

  I shook it off.

  At least he wasn’t running scared knowing what I was a part of. That had happened more than once.

  Enthusiasm was better than that, I figured.

  “Sure am,” I ended up responding.

  “What did you think of the movie?” he asked, between bites of his food. “You never said much.”

  He was a slow eater, I’d already polished off my pizza. One of the best things about the bistro was that you could get everything on them, like, every topping on their list. And that was right up my alley. An explosion of differing tastes in one shot. It was different and fun. And what was life, if not a series of experiences?

  Just like sitting through the slapstick comedy at the movie theater earlier.

  I really didn’t go in for those kinds of movies. It wouldn’t be a stretch to say that I hated them. I’d thought that we had been headed there to see the latest installment in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. But it’d turned out that it had had the same showing time as the awful comedy that Evan had wanted to see. He’d been laughing his ass off the entire time, while I’d been… disturbed by what passed for humor. But it was a new experience and I liked to engage in different things and meet people from all walks of life. It was a good thing that Evan had such differing interests from me. Wasn’t it?

  “It was different to what I’m used to.”

  “Yeah? You go in for those chick flicks usually?”

  Wow. That was a little pointed. “Action.”

  He looked skeptical, but he gave a nod anyway. “Right.”

  He finally finished the last bite of his meal, then dabbed his mouth with a napkin and sat back with a fulfilled sigh. “Are you up for dessert?”

  “I’d like a coffee.”

  “A coffee? It’s already late. It’ll keep you up all night.”

  “I have a lot of coding to do when I get home. A few hours’ worth. It’s pretty early for me.”

  “Coding, huh? So, how’s that going?”

  I had already told him all about it when we’d first sat down and delved into our professional lives, but he’d zoned out from lack of understanding about a quarter of the way t
hrough. But, my work was complicated, so I couldn’t really blame him.

  “It’s great,” I said brightly. “I love it. And this new job is amazing.”

  He smiled. “You know, if you need help, just ask for it, okay?”

  “Help?”

  “Yeah, it’s a huge job for a rookie to take on.”

  “I’ve actually done this sort of thing before and—”

  “I’m just saying, you got this job because your father is the all-powerful king of this city, but it’s okay to admit that you’ve bitten off more than you can chew. Nobody would blame you.”

  “I’m fine,” I assured him. “It’s not more than I can handle. I’m very good at what I do.”

  “Okay,” he said. He caught sight of our waiter walking by and signaled that we were ready to order more.

  “So, that’s good,” he said. “I’m glad you’re doing well with the job.”

  “Yeah,” was all I could say.

  Well, this whole dating thing was off to a bit of a rocky start.

  He’d been a bit condescending, a little weird too with his comments about the club.

  But maybe he was just nervous.

  I knew I was.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of some movement, through the window to my right that looked out onto the street of the downtown core.

  The waiter arrived, but the distraction of Evan and him talking, ordering my coffee and a green tea for himself, all faded into the background, as I zoned in on the movement that had grabbed my attention.

  There, directly across from me, over on the other side of the street, was the last person I’d ever expected to see, standing there leaning against his bike, his arms folded across his chest.

  Anarchy.

  Our gazes clashed and the intensity had me sucking in a sharp breath.

  “I’m just gonna take a leak.”

  I jolted and my attention snapped back to Evan. “Sure,” I said, forcing a smile through the awkwardness I was feeling with Anarchy right there watching us.

  Evan left the table and headed off to the bathroom.

  Barely a second later, my phone buzzed in my purse, vibrating on the chair beside me where I’d left it. I snatched it up and swiped it open, caught off guard yet again when I saw that it was from Anarchy.