Biggie: Motorcycle Club Romance (Savage Saints MC Book 12)

by Hazel Parker

  It wasn’t hard to figure out which one I preferred right now. It wasn’t hard to imagine which one I hoped to be with. It wasn’t hard to figure out that, while the experience with Kyle would be a little awkward, it would make my time with Jack that much sweeter.

  “Why don’t we do Sunday,” I said, seeing no reason to wait any longer than necessary—and it wasn’t like I had anything else on Sunday that would have prevented me from seeing him.

  “Then Sunday it is,” he said. “As much as I’d like to say, ‘screw it, let’s just do a date now,’ I do have to go back. The shop is going to open in…huh, three minutes ago. So I might be a little late. But I’d say this was worth it.”

  “Before you go, let’s trade numbers.”

  We did so quickly. As soon as Jack had my number saved in his phone, he smiled and rose.

  “Lilly. I very much look forward to seeing you in two days. I hope that you have a most productive day writing.”

  A part of me wondered if he was about to perform some sort of majestic, romantic gesture, like come across the table and kiss my hand. That’s not what happened, naturally—Jack gave a short nod and walked out—but even still, just the thought that it could happen was enough to make me feel a certain way.

  That “certain way” was nothing short of riding high on cloud nine. Now, instead of feeling distracted from work because of what happened from last night, I was feeling distracted because of the potential of what could happen with Jack. I’d have to get through Kyle, granted.

  And the whole situation itself was kind of weird, honestly. I had never gone out with two guys like this so closely together; I tried to limit myself to one date a week so that I could give my full attention to the guy. I supposed some girls would say I was empowered, but that just felt superficial.

  Still, at least I had clarity on how I wanted this to go. I would let Kyle down as easily as possible tomorrow evening, and then I’d see where things would go with Jack on Sunday. It wasn’t the perfect setup, especially since I wasn’t exactly a fan of rejecting people and making them feel bad, but it was the setup that I had to work with.

  And who knew? Maybe Jack was right. Maybe I would end up making him a character in one of my novels.

  Something told me, though, that this was one of those times when reality was just better than fiction.

  Chapter 5: Biggie

  I rode the good feelings that came from securing a date with Lilly for as long as I could.

  Even when I got back to the shop, even as I saw that removing the graffiti was an on-going process that would likely have to pick back up after closing hours, even as I saw Marcel’s frustrated face, I still felt giddy.

  Even as the workday progressed and we dealt with some particularly difficult customers, I still felt giddy.

  Even right after, when my brother and the rest of the officers shared a drink, cheerful for me and dulling for them, I still felt giddy.

  But when the hour hit that the weekly Savage Saints party would normally begin, I no longer felt giddy.

  It was time to open a line of communication with Kyle. And the only way to do it was by making it impossible for him to ignore me.

  * * *

  Despite the disdain that we had for each other, we both knew where the other lived. Maybe there was some sort of mutually assured destruction deal going on, but I never really worried about getting attacked at my place. There was a decent chance that the only reason for this was because Kyle understood that if I got hurt, he would get killed, but I liked to believe that it was partially because I was the family member he was closest with.

  Closest was relative, of course. He still loathed me. He just didn’t outright wish I was dead like he did Marcel and Uncle.

  Despite being in politics, he lived in a somewhat run-down part of the town. Trash littered the street just outside his apartment, many a sketchy person looked at me as I walked by, and screams could be heard from some of the different apartments. Kyle would no doubt say that this was just his way of staying in touch with the people, but anyone who knew him well knew there was a strong connection to his low self-esteem.

  Fortunately, Kyle’s place did not have a buzzer that would enable him to ignore me. I went to the front door, pulled open the screen door, and knocked. I stood with my hands folded by my side, keeping an eye on the surrounding area.

  It didn’t take much to realize that Kyle had probably met members of the Bloodhounds, maybe even Damon, here. This was a neighborhood for gangsters and druggies alike; I just had to hope that as long as I stayed to myself, so would everyone else.

  The door opened ajar just slightly before I saw Kyle’s scowling face.

  “You have got a lot of nerve coming here,” he sneered. “Have you come to get a hit on me? Because I can assure—”

  “Kyle, you know that’s not why I’m here,” I said.

  Kyle maintained the aggressive face, but he stayed silent.

  “I saw the graffiti on our repair shop this morning,” I said. “I know that you had something to do with it. And no, I’m not here to hold court. Let’s not bullshit each other, alright? I know that you did it, just as you know that Uncle pulled some strings to prevent your eminent domain deal from working.”

  Kyle visibly softened at that, though not in a way that suggested I had revealed a dark secret. In fact, it was pretty obvious to everyone that Uncle had done that; no one may have had hard evidence on either side, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t obvious he had done it.

  “Kyle, I’ve come to make peace with you,” I said. “I’m sorry for everything me, my brother, and Uncle ever did to you. I know we were hard on you as kids. I just want this to stop.”

  “So, what?” Kyle said. “So you two can continue to get girls and have fun while I have to stew, the black sheep of the family?”

  “It doesn’t have to be that way. You can get a girl. You can be…look, I’m not going to force you to be a part of this family. I know that it’ll take a long, long time for the Stones to unite in any way. I’m just saying that I want this to stop.”

  Kyle peered out around the corners of the apartment. A couple of people were watching us, but they looked drugged out and in no state to help. That didn’t mean Kyle didn’t have protection in the area, but it didn’t worry me as much as, say, walking into a Bloodhounds meeting would have.

  “Come in,” he said. “But don’t try anything funny.”

  “You know I won’t.”

  Kyle refused to acknowledge that statement, but he knew it was absolutely true. There was no way I was going to pull any bullshit, most especially in the home of the man who was the club’s greatest enemy. I had little doubt that Kyle had rigged the place in some fashion to protect himself, or at least had multiple weapons at the ready in case something went down.

  As soon as I stepped inside, he shut the door, checked something on his phone, and then led me to the kitchen table. He offered me a glass of whiskey, but I declined, fearing that he would try to get me drunk to get me to admit to something or to give up something.

  “Suit yourself then, straightlace,” he said as he sat down with his glass. “Jack. Do you realize how much you all fucked me over as kids?”

  I bit my lip. This felt like one of those spots where no answer would possibly suffice; no matter what I said, Kyle would find some way to twist it around on me.

  “Pretty badly, I would guess,” I said, deciding honesty was the best option.

  “That’s a fucking understatement,” he said. “I go to bed every night thinking about why life couldn’t have dealt me cards like you two have. I don’t understand why Uncle hates my fucking guts so much. Yes, I know, I became a bad child as a teenager and beyond. But you guys…”

  He stopped himself from talking. It almost sounded like he was becoming emotional but didn’t want to look that way in front of me. I just kept myself silent, hoping that he would feel more at ease with opening up if I didn’t say anything.

  “You
want to know why all of this has gone down?” he said. “Because when I see Marcel get out of jail and seemingly magically land on his feet, it feels like a fucking slap in the face to me. I suffered through hell as a kid, Jack. If not for the kindness of a few people at school who stood up for me, I’d be even worse off.”

  “I know.”

  “No, you fucking don’t.”

  OK, back to not saying a word at all.

  “You, especially, don’t understand. At least Marcel has had a taste of hell, having gone to jail and missed his daughter growing up. You? You’ve always had things fall your way, Jack. Christ, your fucking smile and laughter are the most annoying things in the world to me. It’s like you’re mocking me by thinking ‘well, at least I’m not Kyle Stone!’ Fuck, man…and you know the worst part of it? You’re the one I trust the most.”

  I had so many things to say, and yet I felt too self-conscious to say any of them.

  “You’re the only one in our family who would stop Marcel or stand up to Uncle when things got bad. I’m not going to pretend you were a savior. You would laugh at Marcel’s jokes way too much. But damnit, Jack. I guess there’s a fucking reason you’re here and not dead.”

  I pursed my lips before I could ask what he meant by that.

  “I take it you’re here because you want me to back off. You want me to pull back the Bloodhounds.”

  “Yes,” I said, taking a pause before I added more. “And the Degenerate Sinners. And the Devil’s Mercs.”

  “Oh, that,” Kyle said with a bemused smirk. “That was just a little mind game. Those two clubs are dead and buried. And even if their members are alive, they’re not going to fly to Brooklyn to fight people they’ve never competed with.”

  I almost added that the Savage Saints clubs in Las Vegas and Green Hills knew about those signs, but until it became a necessary reveal, I decided to play that card close to the vest.

  “No, the Bloodhounds are still around. You may have killed Damon, but I was smart enough to make sure that a club like that wouldn’t fall apart just because its leader died. Damon was useful, but he was, in some ways, a figurehead.”

  God, it was so hard not to speak. I wondered if Kyle was even going to offer me anything, or if he just relished getting to lord over me like this with information. My gut said no, but…

  Well, my gut tended to empathize with people, sometimes to an awfully large fault. And right now, it was desperately searching for ways to validate that empathy for Kyle.

  “In any case, I suppose I could tell the Bloodhounds to lay off,” he said. “They are free people, and they are people who have, let’s say, an aggressive mindset. There is a chance that you may suffer attacks here and there. But I can request that they pull back and stop attacking you…at a price, of course.”

  “I understand,” I said. “And what would that price be?”

  Kyle chuckled.

  “I want you, Marcel, and Uncle to meet me in two hours right by the warehouse that you took Damon down at,” he said. “Don’t think I don’t know which one it is. I’m well aware. I want you all to come unarmed. Come on your bikes, I don’t care, but so help me, if one of you brings anything, I will make sure that at least one of you doesn’t make it out of the weekend. I don’t care if that ‘anything’ is a stick that could draw a cut. Bring your bikes, your clothes, and that’s it.”

  “And then?”

  Kyle looked down, chuckled again, and shook his head.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “But it’ll be your one chance.”

  I nodded.

  “Now get the fuck out of here,” Kyle said. “You have two hours.”

  He turned his attention down, starting to text on his phone. I gave him a couple of seconds in case he changed his mind, but when it became evident he wasn’t going to, I stood up slowly and headed for the front door. Still cautious about potential traps and the like, I moved slowly.

  It wasn’t until I got outside of his apartment that I hurried down the street, hastily heading to the repair shop for a meeting with my family.

  * * *

  “You’re out of your fuckin’ mind!”

  Uncle leaned his head back and laughed sarcastically at me. I had just delivered Kyle’s demands for meeting him that night, and unfortunately, Uncle was taking it exactly as I had feared he would—poorly.

  “You’re telling me that you want us to go meet the man responsible for all of the death and bloodshed and trouble this club has experienced since its founding, and you want us to do so unarmed? Are you insane? He’s going to shoot us dead on the spot!”

  “He’s going to do that if we bring something in, yes, you’re absolutely right, Uncle,” I said. “But someone has to step up and be the bigger man here. We need to take a risk. Look, if it makes you feel better, we can bring our guns and leave them by our bikes. If we see other bikes in the area, then we can hide them and take them inside, or we can just not go inside. But—”

  “Don’t fucking but me, Biggie, I’m no goddamn fool. I smell a trap when I see one, and this is a trap the size of the fucking Hudson. Jesus. Next thing you know, you’re going to tell me that he wants us to get on our knees and pray with him while he holds a knife to our throats.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “Could you, for once, Uncle, have some compassion for your nephew? You don’t have to like him. I don’t like him. You just need to be open-minded.”

  “That kid was a fucking brat, and he hasn’t changed a goddamn bit in the years. This is the fucking dumbest thing that I have ever heard. If you think I’m going to partake in any way, there’s only one person that’s going to get me to do it, and he’s sitting right there.”

  He pointed to Marcel.

  “If the president orders me to go unarmed and walk into the teeth of death, then I will do it and die wondering why I was so stupid as to invest in a bunch of idiots. Otherwise, fuck it. I’m not doing shit.”

  I looked to my brother, who, to this point had remained silent, letting Uncle and me bicker over everything. He had become more presidential and a better leader by the day, but right now, I really just wanted him to take a side and determine this battle for the both of us.

  “Any thoughts, Marcel?” I said.

  He leaned forward and cleared his throat.

  “I’m asking you, Jack, not as a club member, but as my brother, to tell me how certain you feel that Kyle is not setting a trap,” he said. “And don’t answer immediately. Take a second to think about it. Our lives depend on the answer.”

  I nodded and did as requested. But there really wasn’t much to think about, at least in my mind. Whenever Kyle had met one of us in person, he had never carried a weapon. He was meeting us at a remote location, far away from potential help. Even if he brought help and got us caught in a shootout, he risked getting hurt himself.

  And aside from that, I felt that I had made real progress with him. He was still going to snicker and make smartass, harsh remarks, but he was much more open than before.

  “I think it’s worth it,” I said. “As long as we keep an open mind and don’t criticize him, we have a chance. We can’t mock him in any way.”

  “Christ—”

  “Uncle, shut the hell up.”

  I wanted to hug Marcel then for standing up to Uncle.

  “We want the violence and the anarchy to end? We placate Kyle however we need to, at least for tonight. Down the road, sure, if he tries to abuse this peace, we can push back. He violates such peace, we push back. But right now? I don’t think we should do anything that could even slightly offend him.”

  Uncle laughed and started to say something, but a glare from Marcel shut him up before he finished one word.

  “Alright,” Marcel said. “We leave in an hour and a half. We bring our guns and stash them in our bikes. Uncle. You don’t say a goddamn word at the meeting unless requested. If you do, I’ll kill you myself. Got it?”

  “Fuck,” Uncle said. “If you need me, I’ll be i
n the bathroom getting all my truthful remarks on Kyle out before you two numbskulls censor me.”

  He stood without a further word, slamming his chair under the table and stomping out. I turned to Marcel and shrugged.

  “He’s in, huh?”

  “As in as he’s going to be,” Marcel said. “I really hope you’re right, Jack.”

  I bit my lip.

  “I sure hope so too.”

  * * *

  The three of us pulled up to the empty warehouse two minutes before Kyle’s requested time. We saw no other motorcycles and just a single car parked outside, as clear a sign as any that Kyle would be waiting for us alone.

  “You all know the deal,” Marcel said as we removed our helmets. “Weapons stay here. We’re each going to show the other in clear view that we are unarmed before we head inside. Let’s do that now.”

  I went first, lifting my cut and shirt, as well as my jeans, to show that I was unarmed. Both Uncle and Marcel signaled their approval, although Uncle’s approval was more of resigned acceptance. Marcel did the same. Uncle hurried through his, but not before Marcel made him do it again. Uncle went more slowly this time, but he was without a weapon.

  “Good,” Marcel said. “Uncle, anything you’d like to say before we head inside? Because remember, you’re not to say a word until we get there.”

  “I know, I know,” he said with an eye roll. “Jack, you’re either a genius or the biggest fucking idiot there ever was. There’s going to be no middle ground with this action.”

  “Well, maybe that’s the idea,” I said. “Maybe we can make sure that this stops immediately, or we know that we can strike ruthlessly and without pause until Kyle is dead. Sometimes, it’s good to have things in black or white.”

  “Better hope so, kiddo.”

  I didn’t say a word. I nodded to Marcel, and the three of us walked over to the warehouse.

  As soon as I opened the door, I could see Kyle standing in the middle, his lithe figure just barely illuminated by the half-moon above.