Chapter 1
Fuck it, I’m just going to shoot him.
“Personally, I’m about fucking done with this whole damn conversation,” I say in boredom as I pull my Glock from the holster underneath my arm.
In all honesty, I’m good and pissed. I wanted to shoot this fucker as soon as we walked into this interrogation. I know he’s guilty. He knows he is guilty. Fuck, we all know he’s guilty! However, the Prez wants information out of him, and as his second in command, it’s my job to see his wishes carried out. But the good thing about being Vice President of The Fallen Angels Motorcycle Club is that I get to choose how long we have to do this bullshit. And guess what? Time’s up.
I push away from my spot against the wall and walk over to the chair in the middle of the room.
“Look, Spider. I’ve been waiting over there for a fucking hour now for you to talk. And when I say talk, I don’t mean this run around bullshit you’re talking. I mean, tell us who put you into our damn club? Who the fuck do you report to? Give me all the goddamn information.”
“I’ve told you all I know!” he screams.
I laugh and shake my head.
“Wrong.”
I click the safety off on my gun and hold it up to his head.
“Wait! Wait. Wait, please,” he screams.
I mask my amusement with annoyance. I saw that coming a mile away. They always cave with death in their face. It’s humorous. Maybe I’m just twisted like that.
“What’s that?” I place my hand behind my ear to emphasize my point.
“The guy goes by the name D. I don’t know his real name. I report to Brandon and he reports to D,” he whines.
“Fuck this shit. I’ve had a fucking shitty day today. I’m not going to stand here and listen to bullshit I already fucking know.” I turn from the man.
“What do you say?” Hawk asks, equally as done as I am.
I turn back around, lift my Glock and pull the trigger.
“Jesus Christ, Stanton! Couldn’t you warn someone!?” Alex yells.
“Goddamn it, Alex, I think your vagina is fucking showing again,” I snap at him.
“Call the Avengers to clean this shit up. I’m out of here. Don’t fucking call me unless someone is dying or they need to fucking die,” I grumble as I take the stairs out of the basement of the warehouse we’ve been using.
I roll my head around, stretching my neck. Fuck today. Fuck this whole week, actually. It’s been nonstop bullshit. I look to the east and see the sky is still dark. The sun will be rising soon. I’ve been working nights this whole week. We don’t really have schedules here, but the guys we are looking for aren’t awake during the day. I’m tired, and I’m way too fucking annoyed. I know it’s because I haven’t seen her this whole week. She works first shift, so by the time I get to her diner, she’ll be gone. There is something about her that makes my anger chill the fuck out. Not that I’ll ever admit it. I stop in my tracks as I huff a laugh. Well, I guess I just did.
I walk outside and see my girl sitting in the empty parking lot. The sun is shining, casting a reflection off the chrome pipes. She is a V-Rod – white with blue details on it. I throw my leg over and when my ass connects with her leather seat, I exhale. I’m exhausted. This whole deal at the club about having a traitor in our brotherhood is so damn stressful. I need a damn break from life, but I need to find out who is trying to sell drugs into my territory first. The brotherhood always comes first. They are the most important part of my life. Without them, I would have been in a much shittier place.
Riding gives my soul the freedom that my life can’t. I’m fucking stuck here in this town. Without my bike and my brotherhood, I wouldn’t be able to handle it. Plain and simple.
As soon as I turn onto the open road and hit the throttle, all my thoughts go away. My body takes over and it’s like I don’t even have to think of how to operate my ride. Shift from first to second – third – fourth - fifth.
Before I realize where I’m headed, I’m pulling into the tiny diner on the other side of town. I kick my kickstand down and take off my gloves before throwing them on my handlebars.
As I walk through the doors, I leave my sunglasses on so I can look for her without being too damn obvious. Thinking she isn’t even here, my step falters when I lay my eyes on the sexy as sin woman who has my dick standing at attention with just her presence.
She’s sitting behind the counter on a crate with her legs crossed at the knees. Her dark hair is piled up high on the top of her head. Her uniform consists of black pants and a red shirt that has the “Lunch Box” logo on the front and a witty tag line on the back that says, When you get tired of packing the same box every day, come eat at the Lunch Box.
She is reading a book with some half naked guy astride a motorcycle on the cover. I snort as I see it’s a motorcycle club book. She would shit herself if she knew what really happens in the club.
She jerks her head up when she hears me and her lips form into a smile that reaches her eyes.
The anger and annoyance I’ve been dealing with this week just disappears.
“What’s the matter, big bad biker? Never seen a romance book before?” she scoffs playfully as she puts the book down and picks up her order pad.
“Oh, I’ve seen ‘em. My sister writes those romance books.” I nod to her book on the counter. “I was laughing about the choice of cover.”
“Ahh. Yeah. Well, I like to escape from reality sometimes. And something about these books suck me in and lets me just… forget.” She shrugs as she turns around to put the book back in her purse.
I don’t miss the way her beautiful brown eyes darken.
She has long brown hair that usually hangs down to her lower back. It has a slight curl to it, mixed with a little hint of red when the sunlight catches it. She’s about five foot five, maybe a buck ten, when she gets out of the shower soaking wet. Her tits are more than a handful, and the ass on the girl would have men rolling over in their graves wishing they were born in her generation to get a glimpse of her.
She has these tiny little dimples that only show when she greets me with that first smile of the day. It is part of the reason I keep coming back to this diner time after time. It’s why I ride all the way across this huge fucking town to see her actually.
“I understand what you mean by needing to escape. So, no need to fret on that,” I mumble.
“So, what can I get ’cha to drink then, Stanton?” she asks, clearly getting back into work mode.
“Coffee, black,” I reply. Same thing every time. I’m surprised she even asks me anymore.
“On it.” She smiles.
“Thanks, Schuyler.”
One thing I like about her is that she doesn’t try. She doesn’t hang on every word of mine in hopes she makes it to my bed, or the back of my bike. She is genuinely happy to just sit and chat. It’s another reason I come back every time. She is just comfortable to be around. No jumping over herself to get close to me as all the curb monkeys do. It’s a welcoming sight to behold.
“So, did you work all night or just get here?” I ask, looking at the clock. It’s nearly five am and the sky is still dark.
My phone starts to vibrate under my vest and I groan. Someone better be dying right now.
“Worked all night. I’ve been on thirds this week. Lynn is sick. That poor woman has the stomach bug that went around,” she says with honest sympathy.
“I’m sorry to hear that. I’ve been on thirds too, so I know your pain,” I groan.
“One in the same, huh?” She winks and tips her imaginary hat and walks into the kitchen.
My phone vibrates once again and I look down at the caller ID and curse under my breath when I see it’s my mom calling.
Just what I fucking need.