Prologue
Loud music blared from inside as a group of riders on motorcycles pulled up. They looked tough as hell and ready to rumble if necessary. The one that lead the way looked the toughest of all, but not in the usual way. The male was handsome, with no sign of scars nor did he have the look that often went with hard living.
His triceps bulged showing he was no weakling. It also drew the eyes of the ladies, if you could call the females hanging out at Dick’s that. Jared Calvin Woods would never insult a female, but these females weren’t the kind that would interest him. This place, not too far from Tulsa, but far enough to avoid the hectic pace of the city, was what had pulled him in.
An unbelievable story, but he’d won it in a card game last night. His fancy Tulsa lawyer had assured him it was all legal and he was now the proud owner of what was currently called Dick’s place. The second he’d walked in the door, the smell of cigarette smoke coupled with the stench of urine had hit his nose.
As offensive as the odor was, it could all be washed away. The building was solid built with brick and mortar. The inside was in need of cosmetic repairs, but nothing he and his guys couldn’t fix. They were tired of the road with having no place to call home. This would be their headquarters, the start of the pack he intended to build.
The council had already given him leave to claim the fourth of the state in the upper right hand corner of the map. A few small packs were located here, but none had been smart enough to get sanctioned by the council. JC didn’t care. He’d leave them alone if they left him and his alone.
It was nineteen thirty-five with prohibition just coming to an end. It seemed a good time to own a bar, even a dump like this. He had big dreams, but not much money. That was okay, because this was a good start.
While prohibition was still enforced in Oklahoma, this bar operating as a private club had managed to stay in business in this remote area. JC had won it including everything it contained so he could start serving drinks as soon as he ran off the people currently inhabiting it. That included the sore loser he’d won it from.
Apparently the guy had believed his low life buddies would discourage JC and his crew from taking over. He didn’t realize that these bikers were more than just tough, they had inhuman strength. They’d also lived a life on the run performing whatever dirty deeds were necessary to support themselves. While JC wanted better for them, that life was in the future. Right now they were about to do what they did best, kick ass.
The man he’d won the bar from was hiding in the back more than happy to let his rough customers take on the battle for him. Checking out the men in the bar, he didn’t see a single one he felt would be a challenge. Some were so drunk, they could barely stand. The sound of shattering glass rang through the room as those men broke the tops off their beer bottles to turn them into weapons.
That wouldn’t be enough to change the tide of the battle about to take place. What it would do, was ensure that if any of them harmed one of his males, they would suffer for it. The wolves growled low as they watched the low lifes the owner had gathered prepare to fight.
His beta didn’t wait, he jumped the biggest guy in the group. A kick knocked the broken bottle out of his hands sending it crashing to the floor where it shattered with a loud sound. The guy, he was big as a mountain but you know the saying. A fist to the head made his eyes roll back in his head. His body went tumbling to the ground without his brain to instruct it.
As soon as their champion fell, all hell broke loose. JC believed some of the bums were just running toward the door because a few slunk out the back. His males didn’t see it that way. They rushed to face them head on. The owner was pale and shaking.
“You ready to call an end to this?” JC asked.
“I’ve no place to go.” The older man said.
“You put up the only place you have to call home in a poker game?”
“I had a good hand.” The old guy protested.
“I had a better one. There were several hands that would have also been better than yours. Half the table held hands better than yours.”
“It’s true. I’m an old fool.”
“Call off your buddies so we can talk.” JC suggested.
They both looked around to find most of the fighting was over. None of his wolves had been hurt so he was feeling generous. The upstairs had several rooms for customers to stay. He let the old guy stay there and he never regretted it. With Herbert’s help he managed to begin his plan of owning all the land around the bar one house and one business at a time.
Herbert was an alright guy when he was sober. Twenty years later, they laid him to rest and JC fought the tears that came to his eyes. Maybe humans could be okay after all.