Chapter Thirteen
“So, you and Lucky, huh?” Rebel asked after two beers and a diet cola had been delivered to their table in the small, family run diner.
He didn’t waste any time. Looked like they weren’t going to let that elephant stomp around the room for very long.
“Well, uh, I guess so. I’m not exactly sure what it is yet, so no point in talking about it.” She traced drops of condensation down her glass and kept her gaze averted. One look in her eyes and they’d know she was fibbing. They’d know last night had knocked her on her ass and she hadn’t quite righted herself yet.
“Hmm.” Rebel drank from his bottle then leaned back in his chair. “Not sure he’s the best fit for you, baby girl.”
Was he for real? Pretty much the only thing Rebel knew about her was that she was his surprise daughter. He didn’t even know her birthday let alone what kind of man that was right for her. Not that she disagreed. Lucky definitely wasn’t for her, but there was something up Rebel’s sleeve.
“Really? Why’s that?” The iced tea left a bitter taste in her mouth as she waited for an answer she didn’t want to hear.
Rebel shrugged. “He’s just not one of my best men. Bit of a slacker, not a great producer. I’d be over the moon if you wanted to be an ol’ lady, but I can think of a few better men than Lucky.”
She swallowed a rancid sip and tried to think of a response. Rebel was full of shit, she was sure of it. For some reason, he didn’t want her with Lucky and seemed to be forcing Savage, who’d been quiet through the exchange, upon her.
Before she had a chance to open her mouth, Rebel spoke again. “Just saying, I think you should aim a little higher on the food chain.” He cast a look at Savage and the pieces clicked into place.
Savage was being groomed to take over the club at some point. If she was his ol’ lady by the time Rebel stepped down, he probably thought he’d still have some control. MC politics. And there was why she tried so hard to stay away all these years. Now, one week into this Vegas trip, she was in lust with a biker and smack in the middle of a mess. Great.
“You know what? I’d much rather use this time to get to know each other better. We can save the discussion of my love life for another day.”
Rebel grunted but seemed satisfied with her request. Luckily, the perky young waitress arrived with their lunch. After placing their meals on the table, she stuck out her chest and fluttered her eyes at Savage.
He made no move to disguise the way he zeroed in on her breasts. The girl couldn’t have been older than eighteen. Savage had to be twice her age. Lovely. If this was how he acted when he was trying to win her over, Kori couldn’t even imagine how he’d treat an actual girlfriend.
“Anything else I can get you? Anything at all?” Her voice was high pitched, whiney.
Oh please. Kori mentally rolled her eyes.
“We’re good, sweetheart.” Savage winked before digging into his fries.
Kori’s appetite had fled an hour ago, but she forced a bite of her burger. Conversation eventually turned to the get-to-know-you questions and answers that were much more comfortable. Rebel learned her birthday, where she went to school, what she did for a living, and he asked a surprising number of questions about her mother as well.
In return, she learned he never married, had no other children—that he knew of—and the club was his life. Savage remained mostly quiet through the meal throwing winks her way every time Rebel sang his praises, which ended up being quite frequently.
Savage was his right-hand man. Savage kept the club running smoothly. Savage would make an amazing president one day. Savage was respected by all club members. Pretty much the only thing Rebel didn’t mention was what kind of lover Savage was. Kori could pretty much guess that one for herself.
They lingered for about two hours before Rebel needed to get back to the clubhouse. He gave Savage a few chores and both men zoomed off on their bikes in the opposite direction she planned to take.
It was two o’clock when she returned to Rebel’s house. That gave her two hours of peace before she had to deal with Lucky. Rebel’s liquor cabinet beckoned her and she poured herself a healthy glass of scotch. Sure, it was early, but it was a Saturday and she wasn’t planning to drive anywhere for the rest of the day. Why not imbibe?
Maybe it would help calm the whirling in her mind that began the moment Lucky picked her up last night and only seemed to stop when she was on the verge of coming.
After pouring herself a drink, she sank onto Rebel’s tattered couch and rested her head back. If she fell asleep, the sound of Lucky’s bike would wake he before he made it halfway down the street. A nap would do her good. Give her brain time to rest stop obsessing over the past few days’ events.
Of course, her dreams might have a different idea.
~ ~ ~ ~
“Come on, Robbie, I don’t have all fuckin’ day.” Lucky scratched the back of his neck and scanned his surroundings. They were completely alone in the alley. Not that that was any kind of surprise. The stench from the restaurant dumpster would keep anyone with an IQ above that of a worm away.
Apparently, he was pretty dumb.
Rex shifted and rubbed his track-marked arms. The man couldn’t stay still for more than five seconds in a row. His beady brown eyes were just as hyperactive as the rest of him. And, man, were those eyes sunken. Heroin and whatever other chemicals the guy could shove in his veins or up his nose had kicked his trash for years and it showed in his bony, strung out appearance.
“Spill, Robbie.”
A lock of greasy, mud brown hair fell in front of Robbie’s eyes and he shoved it away before blowing out a breath.
“Look, Lucky, you know I’m loyal to you man, but going around and asking questions behind Rebel’s back? That’s just asking for a shit load of trouble.”
“Aww, Robbie, I didn’t realize you cared so much about my safety.” Lucky had saved the other man’s life a year or so back. It was a case of right place at the right time. He’d come across Robbie getting his ass beat after a drug deal gone wrong. Since then, Robbie had been a great contact to have on the streets.
Robbie snorted. “I don’t. It’s your club, your fuckin’ ass to risk. But who the fuck is gonna look out for me when Rebel or Savage—that motherfucker’s crazy. Anyway, who’s gonna protect me when they find out you’ve been snooping around and asking shit about them?”
“The only way anyone will find out shit is if you run your damn mouth, Robbie. And if you do that, Rebel and Savage will be the least of your problems. Get me?” He loomed over the thin man, using his physical superiority to his advantage.
Robbie held up his hands up near his head. “Hey, man I ain’t gonna say nothin’. And don’t be like that. We’re friends.”
With a frustrated sigh, Lucky dug into his pocket and pulled out two twenties. “We are definitely not friends.” He waved the money under Robbie’s nose. “Now, what do you have for me?” The fact that thirty seconds after Lucky left, that money would be flooding through Robbie’s veins made Lucky feel sick, but he needed the information any way he could get it.
The junkie’s eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. Christ, was this was it was like for his sister at the end? Would she have done anything, sold her soul to anyone for a few bucks’ worth of dope? It was a stupid question because he knew the answer.
It was yes. She would have done any damn thing for a hit. While Lucky’s twenty-two-year-old self was overseas fighting for his country, his seventeen-year-old baby sister, Melissa, had been giving blowjobs in the back of a car in exchange for drugs.
The memories still had the power to make him physically ill.
“Hey, you listening, man?”
Shit.
Lucky shook his head to dislodge the unpleasant thoughts and focused on Robbie. “Yeah. Talk.”
“Word is that Rebel and Savage want to up their game. Right now, they’re small scale suppliers, but they want to be major players. Won’t happen today, they have too much competition, but they’re ruthless enough to get there soon.”
Shit. This was exactly what Lucky was afraid of. His president was too greedy, too money hungry to be satisfied with a few extra dollars in his pocket. Once he realized how much cash he could rake in pushing that shit, it was only a matter of time before he became a ruthless contender in the ever-competitive war to be Vegas’s drug kingpin.
“Okay, he wants more. No surprise there. Any idea what this might mean for my club?”
“It means he’s gonna need help soon. He’s selling good shit. Word is getting out and customers are lining up. Best guess? I give it five months. In five months, he’s gonna be a major player and he’s gonna need more manpower. Where’s the easiest place to get it?”
“Fuck. The club.”
Robbie nodded. “Can I have that money now?”
“Yeah.” Lucky handed over the bills. “Thanks, Robbie.” But the other man wasn’t paying attention anymore. He stared at the money, a hungry gleam in his eye. Apparently, Lucky had been replaced by thoughts of his next fix.
Whatever. His problems had just gotten much bigger than giving a shit if Robbie ignored him. Barely resisting the urge to ram his fist into the brick wall flanking the alley, he turned and walked his bike to the street.
The day had gone to shit real fast after he left the clubhouse. Actually, it took a dive off a high cliff the moment he caught Savage staring at Kori’s tits like he was imagining their taste. Fucking bastard. The club’s VP was the last man Kori need in her life and Lucky would be pissed about the man’s interest in her even if he wasn’t interested himself.
Interested. He snorted. He was far beyond interested, bordering on obsessed.
His afternoon was spent redoing inventory at two club-owned bars because a moron of a prospect fucked it all up and the bar manager called frantic when their delivery was short. It was a giant ass pain, but he was eventually able to sort it out and get a rush order that would be delivered in an hour or so. The task took three times as long as it should have because thoughts of Kori sitting across the table from Savage while he salivated over her attacked Lucky’s brain every ten seconds.
And now Robbie had pretty much guaranteed the rest of his day would be shit as well. He hit the throttle and peeled out on the street. At least worry about his club over the past half hour had taken the place of obsessing over Kori.
The No Prisoners didn’t push drugs. It was in the bylaws and made them different from many other MCs. It’s what had drawn Lucky. After what happened to Melissa, he couldn’t stomach the thought of joining an MC that dealt drugs. And most did. The No Prisoners had a number of reasons for staying out of that business, but the two biggest were it was the easiest way to keep the cops off their backs, and the easiest way to keep members from spiraling out of control.
Would the club go for it? If Rebel came to them and said they could be rolling in it selling drugs, would it pass a vote?
It was a tough question to answer.
At one point Lucky would have said hell no, but that was before. Now, with their president and VP pulling in legitimate dough, there just may be a good number of members loyal to them who were willing to follow.
Lucky had been loyal to them. A month ago, he would have said he’d die for any one of his club brothers. Now, he was finding out there was a limit to loyalty, and he was gearing up to turn on them.
Five months. In that time, he needed to make a decision he could live with and act on it.
This knowledge he had, this secret knowledge of what Rebel and Savage were doing was slowly eating away at him. He was completely alone in this and that’s not how he preferred to operate. The club was a family, and they acted as one. A close knit one. They made decisions together, they worked together, succeeded together, failed together.
Or so he’d thought.
Finding out two of those members, the two that should be the most willing to put the club’s needs above their own, were fucking around behind everyone’s back was like a knife in the fucking chest.
The MC had taken the place of his marine corps brothers when he left the service and filled an important role in his life. It made him queasy to think of betraying them. And even sicker to think Rebel and Savage’s greed put him in this position.
And now there was Kori to think about. Innocent Kori who walked into a buzzing hornet’s nest, completely unaware, with the mission of getting close to Rebel. He couldn’t allow her to be caught in any crossfire and needed to factor her into any decisions he made. Number one priority had to be, and was, keeping her safe.
Rebel’s small house came into view. She was outside, leaning against the door frame, a glass in her hand when he coasted up to the house. Gone were the jeans she’d worn earlier, replaced by cutoff shorts that showed off her long, smooth, toned legs. The legs that had held him against her as he pumped into her for all he was worth.
Pounds of built up tension and stress drained away in anticipation of spending time with her. Blood rushed to his cock so fast, it left him lightheaded. He needed to tear his eyes off her if he didn’t want to lay down the bike and make a fool of himself.
Then he remembered Savage’s ravenous expression back at the clubhouse and he was tense all over again. And spoiling for a good fight. Ramming his fist into Savage’s face a few times would go a long way towards easing his demons.
But that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. Looked like he was going to have to fuck the stress out.
After he got some damn answers.