DECK

My truck turned the corner, leaving my line of sight, and the familiar ache in my chest appeared. The two most important people in my life were in that truck. Charlie was driving herself and Shiloh to day care today. My day was so full that it would be a miracle if I made it home before dark. I agreed the best option was Charlie driving them herself. Darth, Seb, and Squid were all out of town on various errands, for either the club or the bike shop. I wasn’t happy leaving Charlie and Shiloh out without someone with them. From the day she was born, Shiloh always had eyes on her, but today, we were stretched thin.

With the strange things happening to our business, all of the officers of the club had to stay close to his own business.

Seb and Squid were out picking up a few new bikes a customer wanted to have customised. Darth was off doing something for Booth. What, I didn’t know, but I did know Booth was getting pissed. He had a lot on his mind as president of the club and head of so many successful businesses. And some weird shit was going on with him and Stella, the clubs housekeeper slash cook.

It was funny to watch him following her with his eyes and scowling at her.

My phone rang in my pocket and broke me from my thoughts. “Yo, you got Deck.”

“Deck brother.” It was Darth, and his voice was hard.

Instantly, I was on alert. “What is it, Darth?”

“Where’s Booth? He ain’t answering his phone.”

“I saw him with Ingrid earlier. He’s stressed the fuck out, and Ingrid has the skills.”

I had not personally experienced her relaxation methods, and I wouldn’t feel the need in the future, either—I smiled as I thought about the night before and Charlie’s determination to give me her very first blow job.

Adjusting my dick in my jeans, which had just gotten a little tighter behind my zip, I focused back on my call with Darth.

“Brother, I need to speak to you both. Now.”

My training instantly kicked in, and I knew it was serious, so I was already on the move. “Hold on, brother. I’m just heading back in now. I was on my way to my bike, then to the building site,” I explained as I jogged back into the compound with the phone still to my ear.

“You didn’t drop Shiloh off?”

“No, mate, too much shit going on today, so Charlie is driving them in my truck. Should have seen her, brother, sitting up like a jackrabbit in the driver’s seat. Both she and Squirt laughed their heads off when Charlie revved the engine.” I laughed with Darth, but his mood grew serious again.

“Squirt okay?”

Shiloh was very important to him. The bond they had was a testament to the big fucker’s loyalty and character. I couldn’t imagine what Shiloh and I would have done without him in the early days. Or now.

“She’s good. Misses you. She told Charlie this morning she had to wear her new camo tights with her tutu.” I grunted a laugh. Darth had found a place online that sold kids’ stuff in camo patterns. Anything military in kid sizes. So Shiloh had a few new additions to her overflowing wardrobe.

“You get her text this morning?” I asked him as I passed by Stella, who I was positive had been crying. Her face was hiding from me as she busied herself with cleaning the bar area.

“Yeah, sent one back.”

A man of few words, I thought absently, but my mind was stuck on Stella. “Hold up, brother,” I said to Darth, holding the phone away from my ear.

“Stell, you okay, honey?” I asked her softly.

Stella and Zoe had been friends. She had a fucked-up family life, so she liked to hang out here with Zoe. But when Zoe died, Stella kind of disappeared for a few years. Then a month or so ago, she came to me and asked if she could work around the club. She was like a little sister to me, so I flat out refused to let her be a soul girl, which was what we called the girls who hung out at the club at nights and at the parties we held.

There were no expectations from any of the men, and the girls didn’t have to lie on their backs unless they offered it.

Never, ever did any of the guys demand blow jobs or sex from any of the girls. Ever.

Stella wiped the tears from her cheeks. She was hurt. Heart hurt.

Fucking Booth.

“I’m fine, Deck. If you are looking for the pres, he headed for the war room a few minutes ago,” she replied, but her gaze was on Ingrid, the buxom brunette making her way from the main bedrooms.

Booth’s room I was thinking.

It didn’t escape my attention she didn’t use Booth’s name.

I wanted to talk to her, find out what and where her head was at, but I too much shit going on had me swamped. One being the big fucker on the other end of my phone yelling at me.

“Come find me later, okay?”

“Okay, Deck,” Stella agreed, but I had my doubts. Stella was a bit of a ghost around here. For a cleaning lady and main cook for the club, she was pretty hard to find most days. Just ask Booth.

I put the phone back up to my ear only to hear Darth ranting and raving still. Shit, he probably kept talking even when I wasn’t listening. “Will you calm the fuck down, Darth? There is something wrong with Stella, and I’m guessing our pres is in need of having his head pulled out of his arse.”

“You said Ingrid? Right, brother?” Darth said.

“Vegas is filling in at the gun shop, brother. It’s all good.”

Darth was in love with Vegas, that much I knew. We all knew Vegas was off limits, and no one had asked her to their room for two years or more since Darth laid his unofficial claim on her. What held him back from making her his and marrying her was beyond me.

But I am different from Darth, I suppose. After all, I claimed my sweetness hours after I met her.

Darth’s only answer was a grunt. Finally making it to the war room, I opened the door to find Booth staring at the security monitors. He looked gutted at whatever it was he was watching. I didn’t need to be a psychic to know he had seen Stella crying after Ingrid made her way from the rooms.

“Booth?” I called getting his attention. Looking up at me, he instantly masked his face. I held up my phone as I walked over to the table and plugged my phone into a wireless speaker.

“Darth, you’re on.”

“Pres, been talking to Commando Company in Sydney. Some weird shit has been going on with the rest of our guys still serving over there.” By over there, we knew he meant Afghanistan.

“Lucky?” One of our club prospects, Lucky, was still an active member of a paratrooper team for the army.

“What they could tell me makes no sense. Only Lucky was targeted, Pres. He is in Germany, recovering slowly from a gunshot wound. His fiancée and his mother are with him. I spoke with him this morning.” The last few words from Darth had an ominous feeling about them. I almost didn’t want to ask what Lucky had told him.

“And?” Booth barked the word. Obviously, he was in no mood for Darth’s way of talking. Sometimes, you felt like you had to rip each word out of the big prick.

“Said he thinks he was shot deliberately. Not insurgents or Taliban or ISIS. He says there was no way the shot came from outside the forward operating base and only one shot was taken. Hitting him, Pres. This feels like revenge.”             

I nodded my head in agreement. The more I thought about it, the more what Darth was saying made sense. The club’s businesses taking hits, sure, it was just stupid shit, but it was really fucking annoying and potentially damaging shit.

But this was taking it to a new level. Being shot inside the FOB by the enemy was next to impossible. The security was spot on, and Lucky was experienced, so he would know where a shot had originated. We all would.

“Lucky all good?” Booth asked concern for his former team member and club prospect at the forefront of his mind.

“Well, he ain’t called Lucky for nothing. Bullet passed clean through his lower abdomen, taking out only his spleen. It will take him a few weeks to recover, and he says he is going straight back in.”

Booth nodded, but I could see the worry on his face. His eyes had a faraway look in them as he glanced quickly at the monitors once more, then he pushed the button to black out the screen.

Good call, Pres. You need to be here, not out in the main room with Stella.

“Darth, head home. And be careful, brother. I don’t know who the fuck out there is after us, but I’m now convinced someone is.”

I felt cold dread grip my chest. Someone was trying to hurt our club—or more than one someone. Or were they only after one or two of us? My mind was reeling with so many different scenarios, and I didn’t like any of them. Who was next? Darth riding home from Sydney? Squid and Seb out of town four hours away?

“Heading that way now, Pres. Hey, Deck, brother, maybe this ain’t a good time for Charlotte to be driving on her own with the squirt. Yeah?” The underlying message of his words chilled me to the bone.

Booth’s gaze snapped to mine. How had we not even considered our families might be targets, too? But targets of fucking what? Or who?

“Fucking hell,” Booth’s cursed, his voice echoing around the room.

“This needs to be figured out, brothers. Now, before this small shit that’s going on turns into something more serious and someone gets hurt.” Booth stopped talking, and I could see his torment, feel it even. If it was anything like mine, he had shit going around in his head. I had visions of Shiloh hurt or worse. And Charlie, fuck me, this needed sorted out.

“Darth’s right. Deck, I will drop you off at the day care later on today, and you can drive the girls home. I don’t think the women are in danger, but let’s just be cautious for now.”

I could see Booth had transformed himself back into our CO. His face was now passive, in control. And really, really pissed off.

“All the women who aren’t needed for work tomorrow, I want them all here at the compound. Bar and Grill girls, Body and Souls, and any regular soul girls. Charlie, Shiloh, and Stella. Deck, you get onto Vegas and set some shit up to keep them busy tomorrow night.”

“You got it, Pres.” Darth’s response was immediate, and then he hung up.

Powering off my phone, I looked at Booth. “What’s on your mind, brother?”

Booth looked like he was looking right through me. His eyes were almost black.

Whatever is going through his mind, can’t be good.

His hands on the table, Booth leaned down and dropped his head for a brief moment. When he looked back up at me, I could see more clarity in his stare.

“Deck, get Creed. We are going for a ride tomorrow,” Booth said, and something told me this ride had one hell of a purpose.

I took out my phone once again and searched my contacts for our road captain, then put in the call.

I wasn’t sure what was going on, but Commando Team Five was about to do some recon.