by Addison Jane
“You’re not going with them,” he responded, his eyes narrowed in determination. “That’s not the life you fucking deserve.” My heart sunk, I swear I felt it fall from my body and onto the floor.
My whole body shuddered. “Please,” I pleaded.
“Shotgun! Shake,” he called, waving his brothers over while keeping his eyes glued to me.
“You got a problem with your new toy?” Shotgun teased as they approached. I tried not to cringe at his words. I wasn’t a fucking toy. But at this stage, I was far too fucking worried about Brooklyn even to consider or question what the hell was going on or what these guys expected from me.
“Turns out she’s got a little sister up there in St. George,” Repo explained quickly. “We need someone to go and collect her before that fucker decides to use her as Kennedy’s punching bag replacement.”
I stared at Repo for a second.
They were willing to send someone to get Brooklyn?
“How old’s your sister?” Shake asked as he pulled his cell phone from his pocket and not wasting a second.
“She’s uh…” I cleared my throat, it was clogged with shock, confusion and tears. “She’s almost eighteen.”
Shake started dialing while Shotgun stepped in. “They left her completely alone?”
I nodded. “As long as I was working at the club, he left her alone. She went to school, she hung out with her friends, and did normal teen stuff. But there were always threats. If I ever thought of leaving before he got what he was owed, he would tell me he was going to give Brooklyn to his men.”
“He used her as your motivator,” Repo murmured to himself.
Shake didn’t respond, lifting his phone to his ear.
Shotgun was watching me curiously, his eyes drifting eventually to Repo. “You know what you’re doing?” he questioned.
My eyes followed his, but when they reached Repo, I was struck hard with how his eyes were still glued to me. The ice blue was intense, but also in a weird way comforting. It was familiar and reminded me just how powerful this man was. Not just that, but how he seemed to be using his power to help me. Not hurt me.
“No fucking idea,” he finally replied, his eyes holding for a few extra seconds on my face before he turned to his president. “Just know that it’s something I need to do.”
I was confused, my brain trying it’s best to keep up with what the hell kind of code they seemed to be using, while my heart felt like it was floating around in space just waiting in limbo to see if I was about to try and fight my way out of there.
Nothing was going to stop me from protecting Brooklyn. I’d been doing it for over five years, like hell I was going to let anything stop me now.
“Hey, Huntsman,” Shake finally said into his phone, drawing my attention. “Shit with the guys from Riot went over fine. We do have one little problem though…”
Shake looked over at me as he paused.
I knew who Huntsman was. You couldn’t class yourself as part of the MC world if you didn’t know who a man like Huntsman was and just how fucking powerful he was.
“… turns out Repo decided to do what he does best and repossessed Crow’s favorite club whore,” Shake explained, a smile growing as he looked up at his brother. “Problem is, she’s got a little sister up there in St. George, and well, you can fucking guess what a bastard like him will do.”
The air around us was still and stagnant as I waited for an answer. My mind, though, was beginning to put each little puzzle piece together, one by one. The Exiled Eight MC and the Brothers by Blood were connected, the mixture of colors had filled the room earlier, but I had yet to figure out how, given that both clubs from what I’d heard were pretty powerful in their own rights.
“Kennedy.” I jumped, my eyes were drawn to Shake who was holding out his cell phone to me. He nodded to the phone. “Huntsman needs to talk to you.”
Cautiously, I reached out for it, taking it in my free hand as my eyes turned to Repo. “How do I know I can trust you? How do I know you’re not just like him? Looking to get your hands on as many women as possible.”
“You don’t,” he answered simply, holding my criticizing stare without faltering or flinching. He didn’t go out of his way to convince me, or to reassure me that he had my back. Nope, I either took what he was offering or I walked away.
There was a part of me which knew Repo wasn’t out to hurt me. It was the part that had felt how gentle he could be, how soft his lips were despite how damaged he came across, and it was the part that was kind of relieved he was around to take control when shit hit the fan. But there was also another part that reminded me of the last time I thought I could trust someone with my life and my future.
With tears welling in my eyes, I lifted the cell phone to my ear and swallowed against the hard lump in my throat. “Yes,” I croaked.
“I have a guy close by, he can be at your place in twenty minutes. I need an address,” Huntsman’s voice was thick and raspy. His tone was sharp and to the point. After the things that I had heard about the man, it wasn’t exactly surprising.
I quickly rattled off our address. “Brooklyn will be scared. She doesn’t trust anyone, I’ve raised her not to.”
“You have a safe word? Something he can tell her so she knows this is coming from you?”
I cleared my throat.
Did I?
“Tell her Dinah Jane sent him,” I quavered.
“Fucking sure,” Huntsman rumbled. “Tell Repo I’ll keep him informed.”
Then the line was dead.
“Dinah Jane?” Shake questioned as I handed back his cell phone.
I nodded. “I always told her that would be my fake name if we ever had to run. She thought it was the worst name ever, which is why I was always adamant I was gonna use it.”
He winked. “Good choice.”
What the hell was I doing?
Escaping from one club to just be indebted to another?
But at this point, if I wanted to get Brooklyn out of there and away from Crow, they were the only ones who could do it. I had no fucking choice. At this stage, I was at their mercy.
A hand brushed at my cheek, smearing a couple of tears away and then cupping the side of my face. I wanted to tell him to go away, or to back off, but the honest truth was right at the moment, he was exactly what I fucking needed. “Ready to head out?”
No.
I’m not.
But instead, I looked up at Repo, feeling defeated and whispered softly, “Yeah, I’m ready.”
REPO
Kennedy trudged along behind us as I walked with Shake and Shotgun out into the back alley.
As we stepped outside, I froze. I couldn’t fucking have her on my bike, I never had a bitch on my ride. Because I didn’t have a bitch bar, it was too dangerous to have someone on the back when they couldn’t wrap their arms around you, because I was a psycho and couldn’t be fucking touched. I either needed to call someone to come and pick her up in a vehicle, or put her on the back of one of the boys’ rides.
Or…
“Hand me your keys,” I appealed, holding my hand out to Shake.
At first, he didn’t even bother to look over at me, simply snorting in laughter like I was making a joke. Until I thrust my hand right up under his nose. He raised his eyebrow. “Um, and why the fuck would I do that?”
“‘Cause she ain’t getting on the back with any of you bastards, and you have your bitch bar fitted for Meyah,” I explained, ignoring Shotgun and a couple of my other brothers who began to laugh behind me. Yeah, it was fucking hilarious. They were gonna give me hell for this, but I couldn’t give a flying fuck.
Shake’s eyes drifted from me to where Kennedy was standing just behind me, rubbing up and down her arms because the temperature at fucking five in the morning wasn’t exactly ideal for being outside, let alone on the back of a fucking motorcycle.
I took off my club cut before removing my hoodie from underneath and placing my cut back over
the thin t-shirt I had on. The corner of her mouth turned up, and she hugged the large piece of clothing to her body before quickly slipping it on over her head.
It was longer than her dress, and the sleeves hung down way over her hands, but I saw the way her body and face seemed to relax, her shoulders slouching and the knot in her forehead smoothing out.
I had the power to make her more comfortable, to keep her safe and fucking happy—I was gonna do it.
“Fucking hell,” Shake grumbled, digging around in his pockets and drawing out his key before slamming it into my palm. I threw him mine in exchange. Sure, there were occasions where we sometimes had to ride a brother’s bike, but this, it was a whole new fucking territory. “You’re getting one installed the fucking moment we get back.”
I smirked and snapped him a salute before grabbing Kennedy’s hand and pulling her across the small parking space. My brothers and the boys from the Exiled Eight dispersed pretty quickly, ready for this night to be fucking over with.
We’d had our say, put our foot down, and essentially made an example of the Red Riot MC so others who thought they could do the same to us and run their shit through our backyard without so much as a how’s ya fucking mother, knew that they would never get away with it.
We’d make sure you went home embarrassed, in pain, and without your fucking women if that’s what it came to.
“How are we…” Kennedy began to ask as we approached the bike.
“Hold the bar,” I told her simply. “You need to hold me, you hold my leather.”
She swallowed nervously but nodded. The bitch bar was a large metal bar that sat right at the back of the bike to make traveling safer and more comfortable for old ladies riding on the back, especially for long distances. It meant they could sit back, and that they had another means of stabilizing themselves when their bodies got achy and sore.
Shake at this stage was the only brother with one. Simply because Meyah spent so much time on the back of his bike. But I had a feeling that tomorrow I’d be spending fucking money on a brand new one, and having one of the boys install that motherfucker because I didn’t plan on Kennedy going anywhere anytime soon. And I sure as hell didn’t plan on her going anywhere on the back of any of my brothers’ bikes.
Luckily, Kennedy had already spent more than her fair share of time on the back of motorcycles over the past five years, so the bar didn’t faze her at all. When we pulled up outside the clubhouse and parked Shake’s beast, she easily climbed right off and stepped to the side to wait for me.
“Okay, so this is different.” I looked up and spotted Meyah standing in the open roller doorway looking at us climbing off her old man’s ride with a raised eyebrow. “Is this some new two-for-one trade deal I wasn’t made aware of? ‘Cause Shake can be annoying, but I still love him, you know.”
Shake grabbed his woman and kissed her forehead. “You should be sleeping.”
She rolled her eyes in response.
“Meyah, take Kennedy upstairs and find her a room. Dakota’s is empty,” Shotgun ordered. Kennedy looked over her shoulder at me, and I nodded, telling her to go. My president then tipped his head toward the workshop area of the club. “Repo. A few words.”
I nodded, acknowledging my president’s demand, but not before first turning to watch Kennedy until she disappeared with Meyah at the top of the staircase. Even then, I found it hard to drag myself in the opposite direction, fighting the desperate need inside me to go after her and demand to hear her story.
Who the hell was this girl?
How the fuck did she end up with a crew like Red Riot MC?
Or in the hands of a man like Crow.
“Do you know what you’re doing?” Shotgun asked as I followed him out through the bar and into the workshop.
I rolled my shoulders, twisting my neck from side to side, forcing it to click. “Told you, I ain’t got a fucking clue. I just knew there was no way in hell I was letting her leave with those assholes.” I shook my head as I leaned back against one of the metal benches. “There’s something special about a woman who has that many scars and bruises, and is still able to stand with her chin held high and call me a fucking bastard.”
Shake snorted loudly. He stepped into the room with Myth following and closing the door between the two spaces behind him. “You’re sadistic, you know that.”
“Maybe,” I agreed with a shrug, honestly not really giving a shit about whether the way I felt was fucking normal. I knew what my instincts told me, I’d been following them since I was a little kid, and so far, they’d been pretty fucking on point. “How bad you think Crow wants her?”
Shotgun didn’t miss a beat. “Bad enough that he’s gonna come back for her. Without a fucking doubt. He was ready to take that bullet you had basically shoved down his throat in order to keep her.”
“The only reason he backed off was because you were about to make him look like a little bitch in front of his men,” Myth mused as he took a seat on the floor beside an old bike and pulled out his rag. “There’s something important about her.”
At least I wasn’t the only one who saw that. Crow needed her. He wasn’t about to let her go without a fight, but he knew he was outnumbered and outsmarted. From the stories I’d heard since he wiggled his way into town, the man was psychotic, but he wasn’t exactly stupid. When it came to anything that could benefit him in any way, he was calculated, and he was committed. And Kennedy? He had a plan for her, I just needed to figure out what the fuck it was.
“Tell me something I don’t know,” I grumbled, running my fingers through my hair and brushing it back from my face. It had quickly become unruly and disheveled in all the fucking drama.
Shotgun tapped his fingers on the workbench, his eyes looking up at the ceiling for a brief moment before dropping back to me. “You know we have your back, through fucking anything,” he started and Shake nodded his head in agreement, but I already knew where this conversation was about to go. “But you need to find out exactly what we’re dealing with and figure it out soon. We don’t know this girl. All we know is that we’ve started a war over some fucking club whore and why? Because she makes your dick hard?”
“You know that’s not fucking it,” I growled, clenching my fists.
At least, that’s not all of it.
“You talk to her tonight,” Shake ordered. “Get every fucking detail you can from her. Age, height, weight, parents’ names, their occupations, where she went to fucking kindergarten. Anything that I can pass on to Wrench tomorrow to see if we can get a better look at what we’re dealing with.”
Wrench was a computer genius from Shake’s previous club. You needed info, he was the man who could find it. And if he couldn’t find it, he had the kind of contacts that weren’t just about to pull up your occupation and social security number. They knew what your favorite food was, how often you watched cartoons, and whether you washed your hair yesterday.
“I’m just putting it out there,” I announced, drawing all of their eyes to me. “He comes for her, I’m gonna kill him.”
“And I’ll hand you the fucking bullets ‘cause God fucking knows the world is a better place without assholes like him,” Shotgun agreed, letting me know he would still have my back.
“Is this you claiming her?” Myth asked, looking up at me from his place on the floor with a smirk.
I shook my head and quickly turned away. “No…” I paused for a second before adding, “… but all you bastards can keep your hands to yourselves and leave her alone.”
I grabbed the door handle and yanked it open, my brothers amused laughter following me through into the bar. They thought it was funny, my denial that this move was anything other than me protecting a woman who couldn’t protect herself, not believing that I just couldn’t let something so precious be destroyed by something so destructive.
As far as they were concerned, I may not have made it official but in their eyes, Kennedy was mine.
And I was kind of fuc
king okay with that.
I stomped up the staircase reaching the top as Meyah was backing out of my bedroom and shutting the door with a quiet smile. I growled, the sound rumbling deep in my throat. “Meyah,” I snapped, causing her to jump. Her hand went to her heart, and you could see the moment where she felt like it could possibly leap out of her chest. “I thought you were putting Kennedy in Dakota’s old room.”
I hurried down the hallway, narrowing my eyes on my VP’s old lady who had the balls to roll her eyes at me. “Will you calm down,” she whispered, folding her arms across her chest. “I’ve seen the two of you together. We both know it wouldn’t have lasted long that way anyway.”
“Meyah…” I growled again, shaking my head. “You need to stay out of this. I don’t need you playing matchmaker. You have no idea what Kennedy has been through. Do you have any idea what she might be thinking or fucking feeling right now?”
Her brows pulled together.
No one had told her why or how Kennedy ended up here.
All Meyah knew was that she’d seen her at Empire tonight, and at the time, I’d gone out of my way to look after her when she’d been hurt.
“Fucking Christ,” I murmured, hanging my head and running my fingers through my hair. “She’s been a club girl for another club for God knows how long. And let’s just say she’d been left with plenty of permanent reminders of her time there. The last thing she needs is to be thinking that I’m coming at her expecting her to fuck me.”
Meyah’s face fell.
She was young, but she had been through more than her fair share of hell. It had made her strong, fierce, and protective of any guy or girl who was connected to the club. She was like a young mama bear and honestly, she did a pretty fucking amazing job.
This situation, though, it was different.
“I’m sorry,” she replied, screwing up her nose and looking back to the door. “Do you—”
I shook my head and held up my hand, stopping her from going any further. “I’ll figure it out. I’ll sleep next door if she feels uncomfortable. At least I know Kennedy isn’t exactly the kind of woman who’s afraid to tell me to take a flying fucking leap off a cliff if that’s how she feels.”
