Chapter 3
Big John
I sat back in the booth with a long breath, my gaze darting to the sweetbutt that was grinding her pussy on the stripper pole on stage. Sid was really working her hips, and I smirked, wondering if she was getting off. She looked like she was putting on a private show for the man sitting in front of her, her eyes locked onto his and her expression revealing that she was close to coming. I’d fucked that bitch a few dozen times over the years, and I’d have known if she was faking it or not. I waited, and then watched as she threw back her head and opened her mouth wide. Nothing came out.
I snorted. She wasn’t faking it.
I raised my arm to get Snake’s attention. He acknowledged me with a chin lift. “Beer!” I ordered. As I waited I observed what was going on around me. Some of the Christmas decorations had migrated to the bar area from the restaurant and club room. It didn’t surprise me that Hawk hadn’t put a stop to it, he fucking worshiped the ground Audra walked on and let her do anything that made her happy. Happy wife, happy life. The thought made me grimace.
That shit wasn’t for me, and neither were the festive decorations. The party, however, I was looking forward to. It was mostly for families and friends, but that didn’t mean that there wouldn’t be some new pussy there, and if there was a willing woman I intended to partake. Thinking of fresh pussy had me think about the woman from the salon, Daisy Mae Flowers, and how mouth-watering she’d been in that sheer blouse and pencil skirt. Fucking a woman in a skirt like that would have been impossible but, hell, trying would have been fun.
I remembered how the huskiness of her voice had caressed my dick like the touch of soft hands and made it jerk. I thought about her name, and decided that she must have been the product of some late-bloomer flower child, because who the fuck named their kid Daisy Mae Flowers? It was cute, and not a name that I’d likely to forget.
Neither was she.
Despite her age because she looked to be around twenty-five, and way too fucking young for me there was a tempting innocence about her that made me want to spoil her for other men. I’d sensed that she was afraid of me, but there was something else that she was afraid of more. Someone had hurt her. But I’d also picked up on the fact that she’d been interested in me, and damn, thinking about her smoking curves had sure interested me. I wanted to wrap myself around her and claim every part of her, every hole. For the first fucking time in my life I wanted to leave my mark on a woman.
I was talking bruises, bite marks, and plenty of my seed.
The thought made me angry.
“What’s got you looking so dark, brother?” Snake asked as he slid my beer over to me. My gaze shot up to his beneath my furrowed brows. I snarled at the happy smirk on his face, which only made him laugh. “Must be a woman.”
“Why does it have to be a woman?” I groused, picking up the bottle.
He shrugged. “You have that look.”
I was curious. “What look?”
“The same look I saw in Prez and Rock when their women first came to the club and were causing them grief.”
I snorted, taking a sip. “Screw you, asshole. I don’t have a fucking woman.”
“Well, brother-” I wanted to punch the knowing look off his face, “You’ve got that look,” he insisted. “The kind that says you’ve got some pussy on your mind and it’s messing with you.”
“Fuck off.”
Snake laughed all the way back to the bar. I put the bottle to my lips and chugged the whole fucking thing, and then slammed it down onto the table, drawing eyes my way. I ran the back of my hand across my mouth. It was Friday and I knew how I wanted to end my day. I’d go back to the salon to see if my attraction to Daisy was as strong as it had been a few days before. I would see if she reciprocated, or if the whole fucking thing had been my imagination. My gut told me that it had been real, my dick said he didn’t care, as long as he got inside her pussy.
The door leading to the back of the building where the clubhouse was located opened, and Lynn and Janet walked into the bar. Sid was leaving the stage, so I guessed that one of them was there to take her place. Snake ran the bar, and he always made sure that there were a couple of dancers to entertain the clients. Lucy was already doing her routine on the other side of the room. Between that, working behind the bar, and providing relief for the brothers, the women were kept busy.
They reaped the benefits of it, too.
The club offered them protection and bought them whatever they needed. They were there because they wanted to be there. Others had come and gone but most of them, except for Lucy, had been with the club for eight or nine years. They stayed because they had a good thing. And the brothers needed them. Needed what they provided after we’d gone to war or had to deal with club issues that revved us up and made our blood boil.
Fighting and fucking took care of a lot of shit that riding and drinking didn’t.
The back door opened again, and Clay stuck his head in and glanced around the club until his gaze landed on me. He jerked his head for me to come. I wondered what was up, he’d looked serious. I hit the door open in time to see him step outside. Hawk, Rock, Clay, Painter, and Ned were outside by the bikes, smoking and talking. I could tell by the way they held themselves that something was wrong.
“What’s up?”
All eyes turned my way, but it was Hawk who spoke, getting right to the point, as he always did. “Hey, brother. You know anything about the Trouble Makers MC?”
Shit! That was the last fucking thing I’d been expecting him to ask. I hadn’t thought about the Trouble Makers in a long time, not since I’d left their MC, long before I’d become a prospect for Phantom Riders MC. In fact, I was surprised that they were still around. They’d gotten into some serious trouble soon after I’d left, the kind of shit that had sent most of their club to prison. As far as I knew, that was where they still were.
I could tell by Hawk’s expression that it was too late to make up some shit story, not that I would have anyway. My history with the Trouble Makers was just that, history, and it didn’t involve Phantom Riders. I’d come to them a nomad, free and clear. I crossed my arms and expelled a low growl. I had the feeling that I wasn’t going to like what came next.
“I used to ride with them, back when I was in my early twenties. Left them long before I came here. Why?”
“Do you know what happened to them?”
I didn’t like the look of mild suspicion on Rock’s face. “Last I heard, most of them went to prison, wouldn’t be surprised if they were still there. The FBI and ATF picked them up for human trafficking, kidnapping, and the murder of some important government official.”
“Whew!” Clay responded, shaking his head with disbelief. “That kind of shit will send you away for a long time.”
“Were you involved in any of that, brother?”
I set my gaze on my president. I didn’t blame him for the questions. Hell, I’d be doing the same damned thing if the situation were reversed. Hawk looked out for his club and brothers, and I knew that no matter how he felt about me personally, if I’d fucked them over he’d put a bullet in my head himself.
“No.” It had been one of the reasons I’d left the MC. They’d been heading down a dark road, and it wasn’t something I’d wanted to be involved with. Shooter, the president, and once a good friend of mine, had known that. “What’s going on?”
“You’re not very forthcoming, brother,” Rock snarled.
“What are you looking for, brother?” I snarled right back. “I belonged to the MC, I left them. I haven’t seen or spoken to any of them for, hell, fifteen years, at least.”
The low, growly noise Hawk made caused us all to look his way. “Covacks just called me to give us a heads-up. Seems some of the Trouble Makers are out of prison and looking for redemption.” I furrowed my brow, waiting for him to continue, because I knew that he had something more to say. “Your name was mentioned, and not in a good way.”
I thought about it for a minute. “They think I betrayed them?” I would never do that. Hawk confirmed it with a head shake. “Fuck, I had nothing to do with it.”
“Right after you left the club, shit went down. Doesn’t look very good for you,” Painter remarked in a hard tone.
I shrugged. “A coincidence. The club had been heading in the wrong direction for a long time by the time I’d made up my mind to get out and go nomad. Any names mentioned on who’s out?”
Hawk shook his head. “Does it matter? They were asking questions about you at one of the fights in Last Hope. They’re coming here for you, brother. We need to be ready.”
“It’s my problem to take care of,” I snarled firmly. I didn’t need to remind them of my position in the club, and that taking care of a few bad-asses with a grudge would be a piece of cake.
“You’re not a nomad now,” Ned said, entering the discussion.
“We deal with this together.” Not one of us would question the finality in our president’s tone, and we all knew how Hawk felt about brothers having each other’s backs. “If those fuckers show up here, we’ll be prepared. I’ve already got Fox looking into it to see who’s been released from prison.”
I thought back to that time of my life when I’d been with the club, trying to recall what I’d heard about them. I’d only been gone for about three months when I’d received word that there’d been a bust at the clubhouse, and that just about everyone present had been arrested. Not everyone had gone to prison, but most of the officers had, along with some of the soldiers. What had been left of the club had been too insignificant to keep the MC running, that was certain. Prospects didn’t know shit.
“If I remember correctly, about twelve members ended up in prison.”
“The officers?” I nodded in response to Rock’s inquiry. “Which is probably why you haven’t heard anything from them all this time, the members were probably told to lay low until they were released.”
“Makes sense,” Ned said, lighting a cigarette. “Now they’re starting to get out, they want to bring their club back together. Do you remember any of the officers?”
“Hell, I don’t recall their real names, but Shooter was the club president. There was Taco, their VP, Mooch was Enforcer, and Tiger was Road Captain. What they didn’t have in numbers, they made up for in ruthlessness. They were ambitious and reckless.”
“It’s probably good you got out when you did.”
I nodded.
“Who do we have to look out for?”
I knew what Hawk was asking me. Who were they going to send to kill me. If they believed that I’d turned them in, someone would come for me. Spending ten plus years in prison gave you a chance to think about who put you there, and what you were gonna do about it when you got out. It hardened you, made you mean, and filled you with hate. And revenge gave you the reason to keep going.
“Shooter.”
“Their club prez? He hate you that much?” Clay wanted to know.
“No,” I said. “We were friends before we became brothers.” Eyebrows rose at my admission. “I’ll go in and tell Fox what I know, and then I’ve got some place to be.”
“Do you need backup?” Hawk asked as I turned and began walking back toward the door.
I tossed him a look over my shoulder as I kept walking. “Not for this, brother. I think I can handle her on my own.”
Their crude remarks and snorts followed me inside the club. It didn’t take me long to tell Fox what I knew. Ten minutes later I was racing toward the salon. If they kept normal hours, I knew that there was a chance they’d already be closed for the day, it was almost five o’clock. The thought of missing little Daisy Mae Flowers forced me to pick up speed. I hadn’t been able to get her or the things I wanted to do to her off my mind since the day I’d first seen her. And it all began with her hands on me.