Lincoln “Link” Frost had a ton of regrets, but he wouldn’t admit to or apologize for any of them to anybody. He learned at a young age that actions spoke louder than words and it was his responsibility to make sure his brothers had what they needed to survive and thrive in this world. It started when he was eight years old, and their mother decided he was old enough to take over her responsibilities.
Those lessons were also the reason he was sitting in the Clubhouse currently, getting his dick sucked, badly, by the same chick who had been sucking him off for years. She was horrible at it, but fucking her was worse. She was one of those people who thought the more noise she made, the better the fucking; she was so wrong. She also liked to draw blood; back, chest or dick, it didn’t matter to Valerie Haswell as long as he bled.
She was a bitch, always had been, always would be, but she served her purpose. Link would have gotten shot of the chick years ago if she didn’t provide the club with information about what was going on in their town. The Ruthless Bastards MC ran Defiance, Kentucky, but some people were harder to convince than others. The uppity elite citizens would get a wild hair and decide the MC wasn’t what they wanted in their town. It was a bunch of bullshit; they had stuff on all them, most of the politicians and police force were in their back pockets, but still, they liked to play games.
Val always spilled secrets. All you had to do was get her a little drunk, give her an orgasm, and she was a fountain of information. Because of their arrangement, Link and the RBMC knew all the ins and outs of Defiance. Who was fucking who, who was screwing their business partners over, and everything in between. All small towns had gossips, but Val was the Queen in Defiance, Kentucky. She also let loose on any new people in town and why they were there. The information was valuable, but he was getting sick of having to give her orgasms to get it.
Even now, he had to grit his teeth every time her teeth grazed his dick. Fuck, he was doing something he never did, letting her suck him off in the common room because to get and stay hard he needed something else to focus on. There was always something going on in the RBMC Clubhouse. Link was focusing on the scene playing out in front of him. Crash was fucking Annie; she was a hot piece, big tits and a hot ass. Link would rather be with her instead of the viper currently trying to shred his pride and joy. Yeah, he would think about Annie, she could do things with her tongue he was sure were illegal in some states.
Link had taken her a few times himself, her pussy and ass were tight and sweet. Annie wasn’t the type of woman who needed a man to direct her, she knew what she liked and went for it for all she was worth. One thing about Annie, both people involved enjoyed the ride. Unlike the cunt sucking on his dick now. Link had tried to teach Val. Shit, he’d been messing with her since he was eighteen, and she still didn’t have a clue. At thirty-four, the thrill was gone. Hell, he couldn’t remember the last time doing anything with this chick excited him in any way. It was only business now, the act and the follow through. Most days, it didn't bother him, but today it was a different story.
Damn it his dick was going limp, and Val let her displeasure be known by biting down on him a little too hard. Fucking bitch. Link was done, he could give a flying fuck what information Val had at the moment. He knew she would come back, so he didn’t resist his temptation to push her away. She landed on the ground, flat on her boney ass with a look of bewilderment on her face.
“I told you about that shit, Val, now get gone, we’re done for the night.” Link stood up and shoved his limp dick back into his pants, wincing a little at the scrape marks her teeth had left behind. As he was turning away, her nasally, whiny voice made his shoulder scrunch around his ears. Damn, he really couldn’t stand her anymore.
“But Link, we didn’t finish, you know how much you like it when we finish, baby,” Val cried, grating on Links last nerve.
Christ, the woman was delusional and that ‘baby’ shit needed to go right along with her.
“Not tonight, Val, I’m not in the mood. I told you about using those fucking teeth, you just can’t seem to take the hint. Go hit up one of the other Brothers, maybe they’ll give you what you want, it sure as fuck won’t be me.”
“But baby, I need you,” Val pouted, holding her arms out to him. Like he would help her up off her ass. No way in hell was that going to happen.
“Don’t you think it’s about time for you to head on back to your fancy house and equally fancy husband?” Link said, shaking his head at her. “I believe this trip to the other side of the tracks has proven whatever point you were trying to make. I’m sure your husband or Daddy will buy you whatever the fuck you’ve been aiming for this time.”
“Fuck you, Link, you know I give it to you the way you like it, or you wouldn’t come back all the time for seconds and thirds. Maybe I’ll move on to someone else if you’re not man enough to keep up.”
“Whatever you say, Val, I’m not the one who keeps on coming around. You heard what I said, time to go.” Link walked away saying, “When I come back, make sure you're gone and take your bitches with you, play time is over.”
Link went to his room, not stopping to talk to anyone and absolutely not looking back at Val. All the patched members had rooms at the Clubhouse and no one had access to his room but him. He stripped off his clothes and went into the bathroom to shower. Turning the water on as hot as it would go, he jumped in. The heat didn’t help soothe him like it usually did. His mind was wandering today and he needed to remain focused. Zander was in trouble. He was sitting in county lock up waiting for sentencing. Damn, his youngest brother had been caught between a rock and a hard place, and Link didn’t know if he could get him out of it.
Zander “Talon” had been picked up the night before on charges of attempted murder and rape. It came out of the fucking blue, none of them had been prepared. Talon was the most steadfast of them all. He partied, but only at the Clubhouse, and he would never hurt a woman. Addy had called a friend, some highfalutin lawyer from Lexington, to handle Talon’s case. She said the dude was an excellent lawyer, so he and Whisk conceded. Their Club attorney had proven he wasn’t worth the scratch they paid him when he couldn’t even get bail set.
The RBMC was his family, but two of the members were his blood brothers and his responsibility. Aiden and Zander. They were grown men, but they were still Link’s little brothers. He learned a long time ago, it was his responsibility to make sure they had what they needed and were cared for. He’d been doing a shit job of it, lately. Whisk resented him for secrets he’d kept for so many years; there was other shit, too. Hell, they hadn’t been close in a while, and Link knew he was to blame for that. At least now, they were talking.
Ten years ago, Link helped Whisk come to a decision which took him away from Defiance and Addy. At the time, Link thought it was the right thing to do. Getting Whisk away from Addy and this town was the best thing for him, at least that was how Link justified it. Addy had stars in her eyes and wanted things Whisk wasn’t ready for. It didn’t take much to convince Whisk to leave, so how was he to know it would all come crashing back on him. Link had known Whisk was leaving behind more than he ever thought, and he never once told him. Link also knew if he hadn’t taken the steps he did at the time, both Whisk and Addy would have been miserable, at least that’s the way he justified it in his mind.
Then there was Talon. Fuck, his regrets about his youngest brother ran the deepest. He and Whisk left him with Tuck when Talon was only sixteen. Tuck ran the MC now, but back then, he was only a patched member. He was ten years older than Link and one day, when Link was desperate to get some food on the table for his brothers, Tuck had caught him stealing some parts out of his garage. In the process, he’d scratched Tuck’s vintage 1965 Mustang. Instead of turning him over to the cops, he beat the shit out of him and asked him why he’d been so stupid in the first place.
He was a punk-assed kid and never once backed down, telling him he could beat the shit out of him as much as he wanted. After they had talked for a while, Link had spilled he was only trying to get some extra cash to put food on the table for his brothers. Tuck told him that loyalty was a good quality to have and made him an offer he couldn’t refuse; work for the MC to pay off his debts and help his brothers out.
That was the start of his time with the RBMC. It was also the beginning of his friendship with Collin “Tuck” Masterson. The man proved to be his saving grace on more than one occasion. Link had done all the grunt work they asked him to do; scrubbing toilets, keeping the Clubhouse clean, running errands for the brothers, and sometimes, even tending bar. He made enough money to pay Tuck back, but also provide a little extra for his brothers. He worked for them until he was almost nineteen. When the time came, he asked if he could join and become a patched member, but the answer was No.
At first, the answer had pissed him off. He’d served his time and learned the skills he thought a member of a motorcycle club needed to know, but the RBMC had one hard-and-fast rule. All members had to serve at least one term in the Armed Forces. He learned later why that was, but as a kid, he only knew what they allowed him to see.
The Club President, Stony sat him down and explained it to him. Link could still remember the conversation.
“Listen, son,” Stony said with his gravelly voice and stern expression, “I know you think you’re a man because you have hair on your balls, and you can shoot your load into any willing woman, but that’s not all it takes. You’ve proven you’re loyal to both the MC and your brothers, but what you aren’t yet is a man. The Armed Forces teaches you things you can’t learn in the civilian world. It will also make you grow the fuck up. The choice is yours to make. You want in, do your time. When you get out, you’ll start as a Prospect and have to do all the same crap you’ve been doing for years, all over again. If you have the balls for that, I’ll give you my vote when the time comes.
Link went to the recruiter’s office the next day and signed his name on the dotted line. The day after that, he got his brother Whisk to do the same thing. He knew Talon would be okay with Tuck, even set it up so he could replace him doing chores for the MC while Link did his time. Link had never given him a choice, just said it was going to happen and that was that. Fuck, he was the ass they said he was.
When Talon turned eighteen and graduated high school, he joined the Navy, but their relationship had suffered from his abandonment. Talon was now a full patched member of the RBMC, but often avoided him and Whisk. It still wouldn’t stop Link from saving his ass. Talon could still hate him as long as he was on the outside to do it.
Thinking of his brothers brought up other memories, like their mother and father. Fuck, he hated thinking of those two. They were both worthless, but at least his mother had tried a little; the old man didn’t give a flying fuck. Link wasn’t sure which was worse.
Getting out of the now lukewarm shower, Link dried off and laid down on his bed, not bothering to get dressed. Laying back, he put his arm over his eyes and tried to forget about the past, but the fucking memories kept coming.
Like the day his mother decided she didn’t want to be a mother anymore. One Friday, she called him into the kitchen and plunked a wad of cash on the table and said, “Make sure you get groceries and your brothers are fed. I have things I need to do and can’t worry about what’s going on here with you three.” Link had been so young, he didn’t know what to do with the cash she had left. At first, it was like a free-for-all. He’d never had cash in his life, they lived by meager means. He quickly learned that candy and toys were not going to cut it in the long run.
His mother left for the entire week, and Link had spent every cent of that money within the first two days. By Friday, he and his brothers were starving. They got the peanut butter sandwiches the school provided those who forgot their lunches, but that wasn’t enough for three growing boys to survive on. He’d never been taught to cook and after a couple of cans of cold vegetables, none of them were doing very well.
Talon was only five at the time and took her leaving the worst. He still wanted his mom. Star, their mother, had never been much of one, but the poor kid didn’t know any other way. Until that point, she’d always been around making sure there was food in the cabinets, and they had clean although ill-fitting clothes to wear. Link was the one who rocked Talon to sleep as a baby when he would wake up screaming; he changed his diapers and filled his bottles. Star had other more important things to do than taking care of her sons, like making a living on her back and drinking her way to oblivion.
Link tried his best to shield his younger brothers from that, and most times, his mother only ‘worked’ outside their small trailer. There was one asshole who came around, and if Link saw his Mercedes in the driveway, regardless of the time, he got his brothers out of there as quickly as possible. The man was mean. He had a look in his eyes, as he watched Link and his brothers that, even as a child, raised the hairs on the back of Link’s neck.
At least with his mother being gone during the week, he didn’t have to worry about the man anymore. She would come in on Friday, plunk down some cash, sleep for a while, and then take off. The only thing which saved his ass was a rare visit from his older brother, Sebastian.
Bas taught him how to use the stove and helped him figure out what he needed to buy to get through week to week. They even scraped up enough money to buy a used crockpot at the local thrift shop. That was the easiest for Link, all he had to do was throw some shit in there and turn it on. When they got home from school, the stuff was hot and ready to eat. His concoctions weren’t always the best, but at least their stomachs were full. In the spring, summer, and fall, Old Man Sinclair, Addy’s grandfather, would come by and leave them produce from his gardens and orchard. Link learned real fast how to make that shit last.
Bas also took him to the laundromat and taught him how to do the wash. It sucked dragging all their clothes and shit the five miles into town on bikes, but they didn’t have a washer and dryer in the trailer. It helped that the utilities were included with the rent for the trailer, and Star always paid the rent. Well at least Link had always thought she had; he found out later that wasn’t always the case. When he started working for the RBMC, he took over that task.
Bas also sent them what he could. Their father ruled Bas with an iron fist, so it wasn’t much. He was only three years older than Link, so he didn’t have much to give but a few dollars here and there, and any used clothes he could get away with sending their way.
Bas stayed with their Father, a mean son-of-a-bitch who didn’t want anything to do with his younger sons. Link could remember there was a time he was jealous of Sebastian. He seemed to have what the rest of them didn’t; a house, decent clothes, and enough food to eat. But looks were almost always deceiving. Their old man liked to talk with his fists and often. The few times they went to stay with them over the years, it was like walking on egg shells all the time.
Link groaned. He hated thinking about this shit, time to get with the here and now, memory lane sucked. He needed to be at the airport in a couple of hours to pick up the asshole attorney. The fucker had been away from the office probably golfing somewhere and couldn’t get a flight until that morning, only a few hours before Tal was supposed to be in court. Fucker was barely going to have time to meet with Talon before the sentencing trial was meant to start.
Link would make damn sure this asshole knew who he was dealing with, and he didn’t care that Whiskey was okay Addy had given the lawyer some seal of approval. Tal’s life was on the line, and they were fucking with it. Addy was a farmer, not to mention pretty sheltered in Links opinion. She was a good girl, she didn’t wouldn’t have any idea the type of shark they needed to hire for this job. He needed to be ruthless and willing to step outside the lines to get things done. He was pretty sure that Addy didn’t know people like that who didn’t belong to the RBMC. Fuck, Link didn’t even have the man's name so he could look into him.
Worse yet, the airport wasn’t close, so he had to subject himself to being in a cage, their word for car, for at least two fucking hours. Then he had to drive the fucker around like he was his chauffeur. None of which was helping his already shitty state of mind. This all better pan out or Whiskey would be feeling his fist; the fucker still might.