Kinsmen MC (Complete Series)

by J. C. Allen

  I went about my night as usual, finishing my workout at the gym down the street before my frozen dinner and beer. Truth be told, I was only dogging her about being in bed early, as I was fucking exhausted.

  When I hung up, I felt like I had confused myself even more. Why had I called her this late? I knew she had school in the morning—she wasn’t on biker time. And yet, she seemed to like it. I could practically hear her erotic desire on the phone.

  So had I done something bad? Or had I set us up perfectly for later?

  The only thing I knew for sure was that I had a date the next day. And so, when I woke up, I started the day trying to perfectly plan out our date. This would be a real one—not that the other one wasn’t “real,” but that had been so impromptu and so rushed that it felt more like a hastily arranged meeting than a date.

  First, though, I had to drag my groggy ass out of bed. And along the way, I sure as hell didn’t expect to bump into Zeke this early—eleven in the morning—when he called me.

  “You’re up early. Rise and shine, sleeping beauty,” I said with a snort.

  “Piss off. I’m taking a boxing class, maybe you’re fat ass can come.”

  I laughed at that for many reasons.

  “A boxing class? We have those here?”

  “Yeah, some new gym in the city. I figure if I show up, people will know it’s part of our turf.”

  Really, that’s why you want to go?

  “Come on, you know we don’t do that,” I said, shaking my head. “We got better things to do than invade the local fitness clubs.”

  Zeke has always been this way, using the club as a defense or using it to bully and intimidate new things in the area. Ironic, since that’s what you first did with Isabelle.

  “I know, relax,” Zeke said. “I just know the owner. We went to high school together, he went off to college and shit, but now he’s back.”

  “Cool,” I said, but that didn’t change anything. “But I’m not gonna box. What am I, Mayweather?”

  “I invited everyone, you can’t be the only one that doesn’t show up, Scrooge.”

  “That’s only for Christmas time.”

  “Whatever,” he said with a laugh.

  Despite our little out-of-season humor, though, I knew he was right. If all the other brothers and some of the club members really were going to show up, I couldn’t be that guy who just refused to show up because I wanted to save my knuckles. That was silly and ridiculous, especially as club president.

  No, if everyone was going to show up, as the president, I had to show up as well.

  Eventually, I came to accept that there was no getting around the fact that I needed to go. And once I did, I suddenly began to see a whole host more of reasons to go—including related to what I had planned after.

  “I’ll go.”

  It would be better to be around company all day than think about Isabelle and over think what I was going to do tonight. I had already given it too much thought and sacrificed some of my sleep just so I could plan it perfectly—which was dumb, in some regards, since I’d only met her once.

  But such was the power that Isabelle currently held over me, for better or for worse. Hopefully, for better.

  “Good,” Zeke said. “We can grab dinner at the diner after.”

  OK, I can’t do that. Nope. Not even if plans aren’t finalized.

  “I uh—I have plans.”

  I knew it sounded weak, and sure enough, Zeke picked right up on it immediately. If there was one thing the family could be counted upon, it was that we always smelled each others’ weaknesses out with ease.

  “What the fuck?” Zeke said with a laugh. “You never have plans.”

  “Yeah well, I do tonight.”

  I expected Zeke to keep giving me shit, but instead, it clicked for him immediately.

  Which may have been worse.

  “Oh shit, is it that chick from the other night?”

  Oh boy. Now Simon and Matthew are gonna know too. Oh well.

  “Yeah,” I said, trying to move on quickly. “And I don’t want to talk about it so don’t ask me nothin about it.”

  Thankfully, Zeke backed down quickly.

  “Hey, I get it. No worries. And I’ll cover you with the other guys, because you know Matthew won’t let it rest any more than I would.”

  Hallelujah. Some relief.

  “Yeah, thanks. Is that all you called me to say?”

  I didn’t expect him to say anything else, and I began the process of getting dressed. I fully anticipated that Zeke would just say “that was it, talk to you later.”

  Instead, he dropped the least violent bombshell ever.

  “No,” he said. “Simon is coming by the club.”

  I got dressed thinking about how just Simon never came to the club. The only times I could remember him coming were when Mom forced him to or we all but bribed him to show up. He was never really part of it, even when Dad was alive.

  So for him to come now… I was very curious to see what was about to happen. What had changed? What had happened?

  After I put on my bike boots and lace them up, I headed out the door. Just as I swung my leg over the bike, I got visions of Isabelle in my head.

  The constant feeling of her came to mind. I had never felt a more perfect pair of thighs around mine, warm and soft; they were fucking perfect. The way her scent swirled around me was like warm vanilla and flowers. All I wanted to do was inhale that scent for the rest of my life.

  Said visions and sensations could only last so long, though, because the feeling of wanting Isabelle, though strong, was a bit overtaken at the moment by the surprise at seeing that Simon would be at the club.

  When I pulled up to the club’s lot, I recognized every bike of the execs on the far left side. I parked in the spot reserved for president, accompanied by the feeling I get in the pit of my stomach every time I do. Only my father should have the right to have ever parked in this spot. No one, not me, not my brothers, should park here.

  But it was a club decision to let me park there, and so I always did.

  I walked inside to the low buzz of the bar music, glasses clinking, and quiet sounds of the customers. It was usually like this on Mondays, as no one was ever here except regulars, and even they tended to take it low key on this particular weekday. The people that came inside and ate at the bar were usually passing through town.

  If they did, the probably wouldn’t come inside. Half the town enjoys the club and the other half thinks it is a danger or a nuisance.

  “Jax, how are ya?” Chris, a bar regular, said.

  “Doing OK, Chris, how about you?” I said, half-heartedly waving. I had too much else going on to give much thought to saying hello to a non-club member.

  “Ah well, the usual. Got a big job coming up just outside of town so I sent my guys out ahead of me.”

  I nodded and leaned against the bar. The bartender slid me a dark beer, which I slowly sipped on as I settled in.

  “Simon going out there too?” I said.

  “Nah, I like to keep him in town. Head up all the jobs here.”

  “Oh, you’ve got him in charge?” I said with a laugh.

  Just the idea of Simon being in charge was a bit silly to me.

  “Pretty much. I have to retire soon. Someone has to take over and he is a good candidate. Unless y’all need him here.”

  Suddenly, the idea of Simon being in charge wasn’t just a silly notion—it seemed very real. I couldn’t just make a one-off joke at his expense—I actually had to consider what he was saying.

  I had no idea Simon was that deep in the construction company. On the one hand, I supposed that it was nice that Simon was making a name for himself.

  But if he takes that on, he wouldn’t have time for the club. Even though he didn’t seem to have any interest in making time for the club, the club was in the family. And frankly, I couldn’t hide how badly I wanted him to do it, either. Like it or not, he was a Kinsmen, and the
MC was named Kinsmen for a reason.

  But I had never been able to make Simon do what I or my brothers wanted, and I didn’t see how that was going to change any time soon.

  “Nah, do what you want.” I said, clapping Chris on the back before I took my beer and headed to the back room to meet with Simon.

  And waiting for me was a very bothered Matthew.

  “You’re late.”

  “Fuck off.” I said, though I gave him a hug all the same. “Where is everyone?”

  “Out back, should be in soon,” he said as we both took our respective seats at the club table.

  I quickly finished my beer, leaned back in my chair, and wondered what was about to go down. The fact that this had since evolved into an officers meeting made me wonder if there was something I wasn’t aware of yet—was it good? It rarely is. If Simon’s here…

  Then the door swung open.

  I looked up to see Simon and Zeke half grinning along with the other four club members. Simon locked eyes with me and I nodded at him. He… grinned back?

  OK, seriously, what the hell is going on?

  I hadn’t seen him since our family dinner, and I felt like he looked different now. He kept his hair low cut to his ears. He was more tanned from being out in the sun all the time. And he drove a truck, not a bike, whenever he could. He never wore flannel or leather.

  Right now, he was in a black hoodie, dark jeans, and combat boots that scraped the ground as he walked.

  I was still unsure what to make of any of this.

  “Hey,” he said, shaking my hand and sitting next to me.

  The rest of the club officers followed him. There was Beast, who took care of the stuff with the bar and was one of the originals with Dad when he set the club up. Then there’s Walker, a little on the young side. He had only been five years out of being a prospect before now becoming the treasurer. He also had a family, two boys and a wife. The life he had seemed to have prevented him joining the club, but I wasn’t going to question it—we all had our reasons for joining or staying.

  The other two, Max and Grant, were just glorified security sometimes, a helping hand, or tie breakers when things came to a vote. They were well accepted, though, and had been in the club for about fifteen years.

  After an awkward silence, I decided that as president, I needed to get the ball rolling.

  “How’s everyone doing?” I ask.

  “Good, doing okay.”

  Normally, in this spot, I would have gotten down to club business, but given that I wasn’t the one to call this meeting…

  “I think we all want to know who that girl is, the one you dragged out of the club on Saturday?”

  Beast had asked the question, of all people, leading to a round of laughters and derisive jests from the group. But I wasn’t in the mood to talk Isabelle.

  “There was no girl,” I lied with a gruff voice.

  They all laughed, knowing full well I was full of shit.

  “Whatever man,” Zeke said. “We’ll find out sooner or later.”

  “So,” I said, eager to move on. “I’m not the one who called this meeting. So, can whoever did let me know what this is all about?”

  Of all the people to lean forward, I never would have expected Simon to.

  And what he said was even less expected. In short, the way this played out was so remote to me before that even in my wildest imagination, I never would have predicted it would have happened.

  “The club’s in trouble, Jax.”

  Simon’s voice was heavier than usual; his expression had no levity in it. He’s serious. But… how would he know?

  “The fuck is going on here?” I said.

  I looked at Zeke for a moment, but he only shrugged in response. So did Matthew. I was beginning to become very suspicious of what the hell was going on and glared at Simon.

  “Relax, son,” Max, perhaps sensing my rising fury, said. “This doesn’t reflect bad on you, it’s just the way things are.”

  “The way what things are? Look, if I felt that something was going on I would have called this meeting, not someone who never even comes around or gives a damn.”

  Simon didn’t seem angered by that, nor did he seem annoyed or saddened. He just seemed… rather accepting, in a weird way, of it.

  “If I didn’t care, I wouldn’t have come, and you couldn’t have known about this either.”

  OK, seriously. What the actual fuck?!?

  Simon scratched his clean shaven jaw, letting the skin turn white and then back to normal before he relaxed into the back of the seat. He just seemed way too calm for the situation, which was only aggravating my anger even more. I tried to tell myself to calm down, to let the tension roll off my back.

  But I was pissed that things were being kept from me. And it was pissing me off even more that some guy who never partook in the club, was only a member because of his last name, and who didn’t give a damn or participate in any activities in forever was suddenly telling me our club was in danger. As far as my anger saw it, this was nothing more than a coup.

  Well, fuck that. That—

  “I got a guy in the city planner’s office.”

  OK, so maybe not a coup.

  But still.

  “He told me this morning that we’re going to get hit with a bunch of taxes in land fees, building ordinances, all that shit.”

  “What the fuck does that mean?” I said, even though I wasn’t that much of a dummy.

  I glared at Simon, but he just had a passive look in his eye. It seemed like he was saying this less for the sake of the club and more for himself.

  “It means we’re going to have to pay up or they can take this place back.”

  They?

  “Who is they?” Matthew said.

  “The city, the bank, whoever.”

  Fucking hell, really?

  “So… what do we do about it?” I said, realizing that if we were going to fight big bodies like that… we probably couldn’t fight them like we’d fight a rogue prospect. We couldn’t get our hands dirty, because their wallets reached deeper.

  It was such terrible timing, too. We were behind on many bills, the bar and the shop weren’t pulling in jack shit, and now this shit with Isabelle…

  Fuck everything.

  But shitty attitude isn’t gonna accomplish anything, so just buck up and go forward.

  “Pay up, I guess,” Zeke said.

  Unfortunately, I didn’t see much of an alternative.

  “It’s thousands of dollars.”

  That… that could be bad.

  “High thousands?” Matthew said.

  Please don’t be that bad. Please… please don’t.

  “High thousands. Almost fifty grand.”

  “Jesus!”

  Fuck!

  That was well beyond something that we could just pony up on the spot. This wasn’t like paying a minor bribe to keep the police off our ass, nor was this even like negotiating a deal for guns. Fifty grand… fuck, I don’t think the shop made that much in six months. And we would have to pay that almost certainly within a few weeks by the looks of it.

  “That’s a lot of fucking money,” I said, but it was more just a grim observation than an attack.

  At this point, I wasn’t sure I had the strength to fight back.

  After all, I hadn’t just gotten punched in the mouth. I’d gotten punched with a lead fist when I wasn’t looking by someone who should have been, at worst, the fourth most important club member and instead was somewhere in the bottom tenth.

  “I know,” Simon said. “That’s why I told y’all.”

  “How nice of you.”

  I ignored Simon’s glare. I don’t think he had exactly earned the right to be insulted if I wasn’t going to give him some courtesies.

  “So, obviously, we don’t have that kind of cash,” Simon said.

  It was almost the worst thing he could have said that. The only reason it wasn’t the worst was because I was sure, in time
, he’d say something dumber.

  “We?” I said incredulously.

  Simon looked like he wanted to punch me, and now I looked at his stare. I dared him to. I dared him to punch the fucking president when he had appeared to less events than a prospect.

  “So,” Simon said, taking a deep breath. “Paying it isn’t a good idea. Especially since we would only have until the first of the year, at the latest. We can try to push back but they aren’t very fond of us already and want us out. Towns with MCs… they come with their problems. I get it. But they can’t push us out.”

  “Agreed,” Matthew said, perhaps realizing it was a good idea for him to take over the discussion leader role. “What do we do?”

  “File a relief with the city office. Maybe we can get out of it that way. I know a guy there too, and he might be able to help.”

  “Jaxson?”

  I didn’t know what to say. This shit was way beyond my means, not just from a tax sense but from a logistical sense. I wasn’t the president my father was, and I wasn’t about to pull a miracle out of my ass. Much as I very much hated Simon right now, he at least understood how it went.

  “Let’s do that,” I said, not looking at Simon.

  “Okay then,” Simon said. “I can get on it tomorrow, but I have to get back to the site.”

  “Thanks,” I grumbled.

  A brief silence fell as Simon appeared to have run out of things to say. I looked around at the other club members who all looked shook but more confident than I did in what would happen with this new bill.

  “Anyone else?”

  No one said a word.

  “Alright. Let’s go home and sleep on this if we can.”

  I closed the meeting by shaking everyone’s hand as they walked out the door. But when Simon got to me, I pulled him aside and shut the door, leaving just the two of us.

  “Sorry for the emotions,” I groused. “Not every day you hear you have fifty grand hanging over your head. Anyways, it’s nice to see you around here for a change. Thanks for letting us know. Though, you could have called.”

  I wasn’t sure what I expected from Simon as a response—how the hell could I have when I had not even known he was organizing a bombshell like this until this morning?—but admittance of error was not one.