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Rise Again by Aaron Riley (56)

 

I awoke to a familiar ringing in my head. I drank way too much last night like usual. I laughed to myself silently when I realized that I had fallen asleep on the pool table. I got up and tip-toed over all the guys passed out on the floor and made my way to the bar. I poured myself a small shot of Kentucky whiskey and knocked it back. The ringing slowly faded away and I already felt better.

 

The image of Shawn's well-built body crossed my mind. Goosebumps formed all over my arms and my morning wood got even harder. I shoved my hands in my pockets, searching. I checked over every inch of my jeans and realized it was in my vest pocket.

 

I pulled out the crumpled paper that had Shawn's number scribbled on it. I admired the way he signed her name in cursive. I put the paper to my nose and it smelled so much like his sweat.

 

Should I call him right now? What the fuck are you thinking, Brendan? You know the rules—don't seem too desperate. I reluctantly put the paper back in my vest and poured another shot of whiskey.

 

Why did this guy have such a hold on me? I should have fucked him already and tossed him to the side.

 

Hammer fell out of his office, no doubt suffering from the same hangover.

 

“Crazy night.” He slapped me on the back and drank straight from the bottle of whiskey. Hammer looked at his watch. “It's already past noon. Wake everybody up so we can open.”

 

The Dark Steel MC owned a restaurant called The Burger Joint to be used as a front to launder money back in the late 1970's. It wasn't supposed to make any money but instead became a destination spot for outlaws to gather. Over the years, the burgers brought in more money than the drugs and guns combined. It was steady and clean—exactly what a perfect front should be.

 

The back of The Burger Joint was where the Dark Steel MC was headquartered. It was a small double-story warehouse that we transformed into our meeting place. The first floor consisted of pool tables and a bar. The back was a private room where we held our club votes. Upstairs had a few bedrooms—including mine—that members used from time to time.

 

“Everyone up!” I yelled. Some guys rolled around a bit while others didn't move an inch. I put two fingers in my mouth and whistled so loud it could wake the dead. Half-naked men and women peeled themselves off the floor. The men gravitated towards the bar. I went through the front and into the restaurant. I took out the keys, unlocked the door, and switched the open sign on.

 

I went back into the club and more guys were awake. I passed them by and went upstairs. My room was a place where I could crash when the nights went too long or if I was trying to hide out from the cops. For some reason, last night, I never made it up the stairs. I grabbed some fresh clothes out of the closet and took a warm shower. The thought of Shawn came back to me and wouldn't leave. My cock was begging to sink into that sweet ass of his. I had to see him again.

 

I turned off the shower and hugged a towel around my hips. I pulled my phone out of my jeans and the paper from my vest. Butterflies bumped around in my stomach. My breathing quickened. I felt like a little boy again with a crush. I punched the numbers in and held my breath while the phone rang.

 

“Hello?” His voice was the same from last night—hard and undeniably sexy.

 

“Hey Shawn, it's Brendan...from last night.”

 

“How could I forget. I'm glad you called me.”

 

“I was wondering if you wanted to get a bite to eat tonight?” I couldn't believe I was asking him on a date. The last time I asked a guy out on a date was never. I didn't do the whole romance thing. I used men for sex and moved on. They had no other use to me. But Shawn was different.

 

“I'm sorry, I can't,” Shawn replied.

 

My heart dropped to the floor. My hands went numb and I almost dropped the phone. I couldn't believe he was rejecting me again.

 

I was ready to hang up on him when he spoke up, “I mean I can't go out tonight. I have to work.”

 

Relief flooded me. “How about after work? What time do you get off?”

 

“I have an earlier shift tonight so I get off around ten. I have some homework to do but I can put that off.”

 

“I'll pick you up at the club and we can get a bite to eat.”

 

“All right,” he whispered back.

 

I hung up the phone before saying goodbye. I had to leave him wanting more. At least my mind was somewhat working. But the desire in my pants reminded me of what I really needed. I'd use Shawn just like every other man. Flood his ass with my cum and never see him again—that was the Dark Steel way.

 

I went back downstairs and the place was buzzing. A big difference from the graveyard I stumbled upon this morning. Hammer found me through the crowd. “Brendan we have a club vote now.”

 

“Be right there, Prez.”

 

 

 

 

Hammer hit the gavel on the long wooden table with our club symbol—a sword driven through a skull—carved into it. Framed pictures of our fallen brethren including my older brother hung on the wall. The members quit chatting and faced towards their president.

 

Hammer put his elbows on the table and folded his hands. “We have a few things to go over today, gentlemen. I'd like Rowan to take over now.

 

Rowan was a smart guy—went to college, started a few businesses, and became the logical choice for club treasurer. He wasn't the usual type that joined a MC but he fit in nicely.

 

Rowan brought out some papers and put on a pair of round glasses. “I was going over the finances and I thought I'd give everyone an update on how we're doing. As usual, The Burger Joint is bringing in fifty-four percent of our income. Guns are thirty percent and drugs are only sixteen percent. I've talked to Hammer about this a few times and I think it's time to open up another burger restaurant.”

 

“So you want to start a chain?” I asked him.

 

Hammer butted in. “We put our blood, sweat and tears into this club. Lost a lot of men along the way. Drugs and guns are the riskiest ventures—too many ways the cops can take us down. We can't lose everything we built. It's time to focus on more legitimate sources of income. Bring this club into the future.”

 

Jasper coughed into his hand. He was the oldest member and never wanted any responsibility. But we all looked at him for guidance. “Hammer is right. Look at our brothers.” Jasper pointed to the frames on the wall. “We can't lose anymore.”

 

Everyone bowed their heads. I thought about my brother, AJ. His devil-may-care attitude. He taught me everything I knew. I wanted him back.

 

Jasper continued, “This motorcycle club is changing and we need to accept it.”

 

Hammer took up the gavel. “I propose we cut out drugs for now and keep the guns business. We can sell our contacts to our black brothers and focus more on the new restaurant. All in favor, raise your hand.”

 

I knew the club needed to go legitimate at some point but I thought that was a long way from now. I didn't want to give up being an outlaw. I couldn't imagine myself working in a burger restaurant the rest of my life. But I had to focus on the survival of the MC.

 

I raised my hand along with the others. It was unanimous.

 

Hammer pounded the gavel to the table. “There's only one problem,” Hammer began, “we need to to break the news to the Los Diablos. The Blacks won't sell to the Mexicans; by doing this deal we are essentially cutting the Mexicans off from their number one supplier.”

 

“And how do you suppose we get around this problem?” Maverick asked, rubbing his large stomach.

 

“We need to set up a meet with the Los Diablos and explain to them why were doing it. If we find them another supplier, they won't be happy but maybe it will prevent a blowback.” Hammer looked around the room at all of us. “We need to work together on this.”

 

“Miguel and I grew up together,” Jasper announced. “Let me talk to him. I can get him to see it our way.”

 

Hammer nodded. “Zane, I need you to reach out to your contacts in Vegas. See if you can find a new supplier. Make sure they'll be willing to work with the Mexicans.”

 

Zane looked up from cleaning his gun and nodded. Zane's tattoos covering every inch of his body, including his shaved head. He was always fiddling with his guns, never paying too much attention to what was going on around him.

 

“This meeting of the Dark Steel MC is adjourned.” Hammer slammed the table one last time.

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