Fuck girl, open that damn throat.” I shoved my cock farther down the young ginger’s mouth as she choked and spit.

On her knees behind the clubhouse, she did her best to go balls deep, but she just wasn’t cutting it. I didn’t even know her name—didn’t fucking care to ask. She was just another dime-a-dozen broad who wanted to lick cum off the tip of an outlaw’s hard-on in hopes of becoming someone’s old lady. She was barking up the wrong tree with this one. Been there. Done that. Ain’t making that mistake twice.

I pulled the switchblade from my back pocket, cutting a slit in her tight yellow tank top. Her tits flopped out as I ripped the ribbed fabric open. I watched as she winced and slammed her eyes shut, fighting the urge to spit me out.

“That’s a good little slut,” I growled, grabbing her ponytail with the open knife still clutched in my grasp.

As her eyeliner and mascara streamed down her face, my dick pulsed, the head slamming into the back of her throat harder and harder with every trust—I liked when I scared them a bit. She sighed with relief as my knife closed and went back into its pocket. Pulling out of her slobbering hole, I leaned against the cool brick wall. Stroking my cock, I groaned as hot cum peppered her makeup-covered cheeks and Cupid’s bow. She stayed knelt down, back arched, mouth open, tongue out—she had been trained well.

I tucked my pecker back into my jeans before untying the red bandana from around my neck then tossing it onto her face. I helped her to her feet as she tried to kiss me. Ain’t gonna happen. I turned away from her as her cum-covered lips landed sloppily on my cheek. Gross.

“Go get yourself cleaned up. I’m sure there’s another boner ready and waiting for you inside.” I smacked her ass, which was spilling out from the bottom of her cutoffs. Opening the back door, I practically shoved the ginger into the clubhouse to scour for another patched member to try her luck with.

I glanced down at my watch and muttered, “Fuck, I’m gonna late,” as I trotted over to my bike.

* * *

Walking into the pool hall, I was surprised to see a few of the Arkansas guys scattered around with beers, playing six-pocket. Hawk sat with Odin at the end of the bar, waiting for me.

“It’s good to see you, brother.” He stood and walked toward me as I made my way into the newly named Unacceptables Bar.

After greeting my brothers quickly, I locked eyes with my president.

“Any word?” I asked, glancing over my true leader’s shoulder to see Odin eyeing us over the mouth of his longneck.

“Ain’t gonna sugar coat it. Things aren’t looking good.” He shot down the three fingers of whiskey in his glass. Hawk motioned to the bar and we took our seats next to Odin.

I held my hand up to Sherry, and she filled Hawk’s glass before pouring me my own.

“Thanks, doll.” I gave our resident queen, Odin’s old lady, a kind smile as my heart sank to the bottom of the amber liquid clutched in my hand.

“There’s nothing I can do?” I asked, barely able to keep my voice level.

Hawk put his hand on my shoulder. “The lawyers are still cutting through red tape and looking for loopholes, but Helen has dug her heels in deep with this one. She’s claiming she doesn’t know who Crickett’s real father is.”

“That fucking cunt.” I scowled as my dirty laundry was aired.

The child had my nose, eyes, feet, hands—she even had my fucking laugh. There was no question who Crickett’s old man really was.

Hawk pulled a few polaroids from the inside pocket of his worn leather, handing them to me. They were shots of Crickett playing in the park from yards away, and even though she was smiling, I could see the sadness in her eyes; she needed me.

“You came all the way up here for this fucking shit news and some damn photos?” I threw the empty glass across the bar, and it shattered into a thousand pieces as I let out a deep, loud snarl.

“I came all the way up here because we need the butcher to come out to play.” A sinister grimace spread wide as Hawk watched the rage boil up from the depths of my soul.

Odin gestured to the back room where Red and Dhonal were already waiting. The three of us joined them around the table as Sherry brought in fresh drinks for everyone.

“Make sure no one comes back here,” Odin ordered as he smacked his old lady on the ass, sending her back to her post.

Once the door shut behind her, Odin addressed the table. “The Sinners are trying to move into our gun supply. That cannot happen. They need to be put in their place immediately.”

Odin lit a cigarette before offering the blue pack to me. Taking two sticks, I lit the first with shaking hands before securing the second behind my right ear. They’d both be killed within minutes.

“This pipeline is going to start supplying Arkansas and Sweetwater after we take care of this little problem. That’s why I’m here,” Hawk explained. “Felt the need to be hands on with this run.”

“We have an inside man giving us word that the Sinners are planning on hijacking our shipment right before it gets off the highway in their territory. We need to get to them before the truck even leaves Atlanta.” Dhonal leaned back in his chair, scratching his dark red beard with both hands.

“How do we know the source is credible?” I asked.

“Because he’s right behind you,” said a gruff, familiar voice boomed, his words filling the room as I turned to see a sight for sore eyes.

“I feel like I’m seeing a fucking ghost.” I leapt to my feet, hooking an arm around my long-lost brother’s neck. Jack Sumter had patched years before, leaving to help start the Sweetwater charter. I had assumed he was dead after all that time with no word.

“When these guys came to Sweetwater griping about their little infestation problem, figured it was time to get my hands dirty.” Jack took a seat next to Odin before explaining the intel he had gathered over the few months he had been under cover behind enemy lines.

“Those fucking idiots really believed you were a deserter?” Hawk chuckled.

Jack spit biker juice into his empty beer bottle. “What can I say? I was the head of the drama club all four years in high school.”

“Who knew being a geek could be so beneficial?” I teased.

He threw his hand in the air. “Theater chicks put out at my school. I got so many BJs behind that closed curtain—really put some hair on that young chest of mine.”

We mapped out the plan, figuring out what each member’s job would be. The excitement to see blood dripping from my ax was all consuming helping me push my worries about Crickett to the back of my mind.

“Don’t the Sinners roll deep?” I naïvely asked. Months had gone by with me in North Carolina and every time I had the misfortune of seeing our rivals, they were in large packs. Fucking pussies.

“They’ll be a small pack tonight. We’ll outnumber them three to one at least,” Jack clarified.

“I like those damn odds.” Hawk smacked me on the back as his face lit up like it was fucking Christmas morning.

It was almost sundown, time to spring into action.

Walking back into the bar, I scanned the room as our warriors stood at attention. They knew it was time for battle—their excitement radiating through the entire place.

“Get the broads and kid outta here,” Odin barked at Sherry, who was leaning over the bar top helping their son with his homework.

Little Abel peered up at his dad with wide eyes. “I got an A on my math test.” The kid’s chest was puffed out with pride, but his accomplishment fell on deaf ears.

My heart sank. No kid should feel rejected by their old man. Pulling a pack of Fun Dip out of the usual pocket, I tossed it over to the deflating youngster as he watched his father walk past him without even a sideways glance.

Gripping the candy, his eyes welled up a bit. “Thank you.”

Sherry packed up his school books, helping her son off of the stool. “That was sweet of you, Rave.”

I gave her a quick wink before she started ushering the lot of sluts and house mouses out to the parking lot, holding her boy by the hand.

“Time to go to war, boys!” Odin’s voice thundered through the bar as everyone cheered.

We got right to it—Kevlar, guns, ammo, and knives all at the ready. I was strapped down, ax on my back within seconds, along with two Berettas, extra magazines, and a few switchblades for good measure. I rarely ever fired my guns; they were a last resort, a backup plan, but I preferred to have them and never use them rather than get in a bind. My ax would see all the action for this one if everything went to plan.

In a pack of roaring chrome horses, we rode down the highway, Odin and Jack leading the way. It had been a while since I was on a mission where I wasn’t alone. I preferred to handle business quickly, quietly, and with as few witnesses as possible. Even though we all belonged to the same brotherhood, I didn’t trust the Vilas guys yet. On high alert, I followed like a good little soldier, but there was a knot in the pit of my stomach. Too many moving parts meant more things could go wrong.

Sending a few of the grunts along first, we set the trap, watching from the top of the hill with our lights off as our small group started to get followed by our targets.

Jack whistled and we flew down the road, circling the handful of Sinners.

“What fucking twits.” I snickered as our group easily surrounded theirs.

Bikes lay down, tires squealed, hammers were pulled back, and men yelled—all music to my ears. I hopped off my Chief, gripping the handle and swinging my ax into the side of the head of the first Sinner I saw. The top of his skull exploded open as a husky victory cry leapt from my lungs. Poor piece of shit didn’t even have time to free his gun from its holster before he was a pile of meat and bones collapsed on the roadside.

Crimson splattered across Hawk’s face as it contorted into a vindictive sneer. He orbited the enemies, smearing their fallen brother’s blood across his forehead, sizing them all up. I wasn’t the only one in our group with bloodlust.

“Who’s next?” I yelled as I wiped brain matter onto my leather chaps, cracking my neck from side to side.

Hawk howled, “Welcome back, Butcher!”

“We have a message for all you scumbags who think we will sit by and let our enemies steal from us.” Dhonal shot the kneecap of a Sinner who was trembling in front of him and had his hands in the air. Spitting on the man as he wailed in agony, Dhonal pointed his gun at the rest of them. “You’ve declared war on the wrong club. This is the only warning you’re going to ever get.”

Our shipment truck was off in the distance as we let the sons of bitches get on their bikes, their tails tucked between their legs.

“This isn’t over,” a Sinner called out as he pushed hard on the throttle.

“We’re looking forward to playing with you boys again real soon!” Odin cackled, firing a shot into the air with his sawed off double barrel.

Hawk, Red, and I brought up the rear as we made the short trek back to the bar with our truck full of firepower safely in the middle of the regiment.

After getting our shipment into the storeroom, we celebrated our victory with whiskey flowing all around. It was apparent that most of the Vilas crew hadn’t experienced an encounter like that as they boasted about the bloodshed. They hadn’t seen anything yet. That was child’s play compared to other situations I had been in over the years.

Sitting alone at a back table, I thumbed through the small stack of pictures of Crickett. My heart was beating in her chest, and I could feel its empty slot in mine. I was hollow, void, the butcher once again. Maybe it was for the best. Maybe Crickett needed me to be miles away. Helen was a whore, but at least she wasn’t a murderer.

Red rubbed off my hands and stained the white edges of the photographs as I shoved my treasures into my wallet for safekeeping. It was time to wash up a bit and enjoy the win with my brethren.

My blood ran cold as I walked into an argument I wasn’t meant to hear.

“How the fuck is the drawer ten bucks short? You fucking skimming? You good-for-nothing hooker!” Smack. I winced as I came up behind Odin manhandling Sherry like a cut slut who’d bit his dick.

“Fuck, man.” I grabbed his balled fist right before it could connect with her stomach. “We are not woman beaters.”

Blood was still dripping down my neck as my eyes locked with Sherry’s gorgeous ice blues. They were bloodshot, and tears stained her pale skin.

Odin spun around on his heels, looking like a hellhound about to chew my head off. “This is between me and my ol’ lady. Mind your own damn business, brother.”

“While you wear that skull and bones on your back, it is my fucking business.” Every vein in my body pumped hard as my eye started to twitch. “I don’t give a fuck if you’re the president or a bum on the street—I won’t stand by and watch a woman take a pounding over ten fucking greenbacks. Take it out of the coffer and walk it off.”

“You’ll pay for this, Butcher.” The bitter words hung heavy as we stood glaring at each other.

I shoved Odin to the side, pulling Sherry’s tiny body behind mine, tucking her close to my back and keeping one arm hooked around her middle. “Bring it. You’ll be excommunicated and hogtied behind my bike within seconds of Hawk catching wind of this.”

Right on cue, Hawk made his way down the narrow, dimly lit hallway that led to the employee bathroom.

“Everything all right back here?” Hawk’s hand on was on his sidearm, ready to handle the escalation the only way he knew how.

Odin spit on Sherry’s stiletto. “Don’t forget whose bed you sleep in,” he muttered before turning to my president. “Everything is fine here. I’ll be in the office.”

He heaved past, knocking into me with his shoulder as I stood firmly between him and the woman he claimed to protect.

Hawk put his hand on Sherry’s trembling arm. “Give us a minute, doll face.”

Sherry squeezed my forearm as she whispered, “Thank you,” in my ear before scurrying away.

“What a fucking night.” Hawk ran his hand up the back of his neck, crimson splattered across his face. “What did I just walk in on?”

My head hung as I worked my jaw. “Nothing. None of our business, I guess.”

“Whadya say we get this gore off us and drink it down like the old days?” He motioned to our stained cuts as he winked at me in true Hawk fashion.