My phone ringing wakes me up. Nothing out of the ordinary until the memories of last night start to flood through my mind. Lyric. Naked. Sex, fuckin’ lots of sex. Holy shit, did that really happen? I look around for any sign of her, but she is long gone. Like Cinderella at midnight. What the fuck? Did I dream it all?

I find my phone and see Chrome’s name on the screen. Fuck! I don’t want to deal with him right now, but I have no choice but to answer the phone when he calls. There is no ignoring Prez.

“Yeah?” I answer, waiting for him to yell at me for oversleeping or some shit. The clock was the last thing I bothered looking at when I realized Lyric ran out on me just like I did to her all those months ago. Is that what this was all about? Getting me back for what I did to her? Was it all a fuckin’ game to her? Fuck it all to hell for letting her get under my skin!

“Why’d a half-naked Lyric end up in my wife’s closet this morning?” Chrome’s deep and menacing voice echoes through the phone line.

“Fucked if I know…” I try and play it off. Why the hell did she go across the hall? Was she trying to fuckin’ take out a billboard for what happened? Fuckin’ bitches, man!

“I have a feeling you know a lot more than you’re tellin’.” Chrome is an intuitive man. In a sea of dumbass bikers who have nothing more than brute strength and nothing to live for, he stands out. Sometimes like a sore thumb. But that may just be the reason he is in charge of us hellions.

“Ain’t nothin’ to tell, Prez.” I’m not gonna let the truth out. We made a deal. One night only, nobody knows. And I am going to hold up my end of the deal until the day I die. Ain’t no brotherhood code gonna change that.

“You sure? She looked pretty rough.”

“Yeah. Maybe she just didn’t wanna go to Seven? Didn’t want her lecturing her or some shit. I don’t know, but Lyric ain’t my problem, brother.” I hate lying. I hate liars too. But this is just too much to let out in the rumor mill. It would end up back to her fiancé in no time flat and I would be the only one to blame. Lyric would never forgive me, and I would never forgive myself for taking that happily ever after away from her. No matter how unhappy she insists she really is. Fuck! At the end of the day, I just want her to be mine. Maybe I should burn it all to the ground so she comes running to me from that stuffy ass motherfucker. God, I’m worse than a bitch with this back and forth.

“Keep an eye out for her. She’s got herself in some shit,” Chrome shares before disconnecting the line. I look at my phone and debate on texting Lyric. Fuck that. Fuck that bitch and fuck her for walking out on me and taking the tiniest piece of a heart I had left with her when she snuck out my door.

I’m being a prick and I know it, but I’m mad. No one walks out on me. No one leaves before I get up. Hell, half the time these bitches don’t even want to leave at all! They’re like herpes, you just can’t get rid of them! Too bad the only one I actually want to keep comes with a crazy bitch sister, and a fiancé.

I pick up an empty beer bottle from the nightstand next to my bed and throw it across the room. Glass shatters into a million pieces, covering my dirty laundry in the green shards. Breaking something feels fucking good, so I pick up another and another, throwing them all at the same spot. The same wall I fucked her against last night before we fell into bed and passed out. The memories of her soft body pressed against the white wall, panting and moaning as I pounded her assault my senses. The last bottle crashes against the wall and my bedroom door flies open.

“First that bitch moaning all goddamn night… now you’re fuckin’ throwin’ shit. I don’t want to be awake right now so you better have a good excuse for smashin’ beer bottles like you’re fuckin’ sixteen again.” Judge leans against the doorway with his arms folded over his chest.

“Ain’t none of your business.” I try and dismiss him.

“You kept the whole fuckin’ floor up last night. We could hear that shit. We know you had Lyric in here. Half of Manhattan knows you had Lyric in here. We could hear the shit. Y’all were two fuckin’ dogs in heat, dude.” Fuck. The thought never crossed my mind that anyone would be able to hear us.

“Keep your mouth shut, yeah?” I run my fingers through my hair and start looking for a clean pair of jeans. I need to get the fuck out of here before I put my fist through a wall.

“Yeah, brother. But I can’t promise everyone will,” Judge responds without pushing me any further like he normally would, and he walks out. That guy is a bank of secrets with so little to say. If you get more than ten words out of him at a time you are lucky. He’s been around for years at this point and I still have no idea who he is, where he comes from, or what his story is. You just don’t push for that kind of shit in this world. We aren’t bitches looking to talk about our lives and feelings; we are a brotherhood just tryin’ to stay alive.

My mind re-runs the events of the night. Her words, her skin, the salty taste of her skin, and how damn perfect her cunt was. Once upon a time I thought Lyric was the perfect woman. Last night only solidified that for me. I want her in a way I never thought I would desire a woman. A way that scares the shit out of me, which is why I’m just going to let her go. Shit isn’t right and our lives are too complicated to cross paths again. It is better this way.

Let her go. She deserves better.

Let her go. You’ll only hurt her.

Let her go. She is too good for you.

Let her go. She belongs to another man.

FUCK!

I grab my cell phone, wallet, and keys, pull a sweatshirt over my head and put my cut on. I need to go for a ride and clear my head. I need to get away from this room. Everywhere I look I can see her. Thoughts of her and everything that happened between us; it’s too much for me to deal with right now. Probably too much for me to ever deal with.

* * *

“Everyone here?” Chrome asks while looking around the room. The shit with Satan’s Rejects is getting personal. Last night while I shared a bed with Lyric, they torched Gunnar’s car in our own damn parking garage. We are lucky no one got hurt, but shit is escalating quickly. Plus now we got the police sniffing around, and for a club new to the area, that is really the last shit we need.

“Aye,” Vegas says sitting in the chair next to me. I look around the lounge of the clubhouse and feel at home. This room is full of my family. The men who took me in, and the ones who have stood by me over the years. Vegas sits to my right. I remember the first time I met him. He was bloody and beat the fuck up on the Vegas strip. He fucked over the wrong loan shark with a shitty gambling addiction. His short dark hair was matted with old blood, replaced today by a buzz cut and a nasty scar. Chrome took him in without batting an eye. He paid off his debts and put him to work with us, taking him as far away from Vegas as he could. The name stuck though. It’s a reminder to him of the shit he has overcome. Nicknames are like that for most of us.

Judge was a newcomer and truth be told, I hate the fucker. Yeah, I like him because he is one of us, but when he lied to Chrome a couple months back about knowing this guy we were trailing, it almost cost him his life. He paid at the hands of our President, and at the end of the day, he’s a good man who got his lines crossed. Judge came from the Boston chapter, needed a change of scenery — not that New York City is really much of a change. I find it laughable that once upon a time Lyric’s sister Seven was his Dominatrix as well, but that ain’t my story to tell. I always knew he was a little bitch though. That’s all we know about that bearded motherfucker.

Gunnar was a Marine. He’s quiet and keeps to himself. I fuck with him, calling him Mr. Clean because I’ve never seen the fucker with any hair on his head. He served in Iraq a couple times and came back with the same darkness most of those dudes have. I wouldn’t fuck with him and there are days I am glad we are on the same side of shit.

It just goes to show how little our government actually cares about these dudes coming back from war. PTSD is a nasty bitch and we’ve all helped him the best we could through it all. There should be services and shit for these guys, but what is available makes them feel emasculated and they skip out on the help they really need. It’s a lot of bullshit to wade through.

Ace, I’ve known most of my life. We did jail time together back when I was a fresh-faced teenager who thought stealing cars wasn’t a big deal. He’s an older guy, even older than Chrome. Probably would have been President if he could have kept his ass out of jail long enough to take over the reins. His dirty blond hair has more of a salt and pepper tone these days. We all have shit we aren’t proud of, and that is how I ended up with the name Ryker. I was the youngest Hell’s Renegade in jail at that time and they thought it was hysterical to give the baby-faced newbie the most hardcore name of the bunch. That was back in the day when I thought I would be able to actually pick my own club name. I learned fast that I wouldn’t have much choice over anything when it came to the Renegades. You have to prove yourself, and move up. It took me a long time to get where I am today in this club. A lot of work, a lot of loyalty, and a lot of sketchy ass shit.

Then there is Lucky. Who is probably the most unlucky son of a bitch anyone could ever meet. Two ex-wives, a handful of children all over the country and he’s the poster child for everything not to do with your life. Drugs, booze, bitches, god knows what the fuck else he’s gotten himself into over the years. Shit I don’t care to be any part of, that is for damn sure. Chrome has tried to keep him on the straight and narrow, but he always manages to fuck something up. I guess it is just the hand he’s been dealt in life.

We may not be a huge bunch, but we are fiercely loyal. Loyal to Chrome, the President of our club and the savior of most of our lives. We all came here with bullshit baggage. Arrest records, or addiction problems. He made us who we are today, and in the back of my mind I think he did the same shit with his wife. But again, that ain’t my story to tell.

Star, Chrome’s wife, man, is she a fuckin’ pistol or what. Star is short for Starburst Bloom; one of the best porn stars of all time. They didn’t meet in the big city, and they for sure didn’t have a storybook romance from the get-go. But damn, if she didn’t rope in the king of one night stands and turn him into the model father and husband. I shouldn’t be jealous of the life they have together, but I am. I mean… what the fuck? His wife has a full sleeve of My Little Pony tattoos. Not really my type of broad. But I envy the fact that he has an old lady, unlike the rest of us. This life is hard and most good women don’t want anything to do with it. The parties, the sluts that hang around the club, it’s just a massive shit show all the time.

I shake my head, and shake off the idea of having an old lady. It’s unnecessary bullshit I don’t want, and never will be able to actually deal with. I’m just not that guy. Chrome, he has his shit together. I don’t know what demons he battles inside his bald fuckin’ head, but I know it is nowhere near what I’ve been forced to deal with in my life. I know it just ain’t in the cards for a guy like me to have a normal relationship.

“This shit with the Rejects is out of control. We are having a sit down with them tomorrow. I am going, and Ace is coming with me. That’s it. We are going to talk requests for peace and what the fuck they want from us. If that doesn’t go like I have it planned… we go to war. It’s a fuckin’ tricky game down here in the city. It ain’t like being back in Woodstock.” Fuck, I miss Woodstock and I hate the fact that the club moved. All because of Chrome’s wife Star and her best friend Seven James. Another grade A bitch.

I thought the move would be good until I realized exactly how much trouble we can all get into in a big city. Not just any big city either, the City that Never Sleeps. Woodstock, New York is a one horse kind of town. We could get away with murder, literally… and no one would know. Here, we have more rules, and palms to grease to get by.

We all had the option to stay behind, but everyone wanted to come. Who wouldn’t want to move to Manhattan? I should have stayed behind in the peace and quiet of our tiny ass hippy town. I didn’t have anyone or anything there, though, so I followed my boys like a sheep. These men are my family.

“What do you think they want?” I ask, trying to get my mind off the only place I ever really considered home. “You think this is about our move?” That is the only thing I can think of.

“There are a couple things that come to mind. The move is one of them. The fact that Judge fucked one of their whores is another. But, that we aren’t going to get into tonight.” Chrome cuts his icy glare to Judge and the guy damn near cowers in his seat. Shit, I would too. It was a bad move on his part, and it didn’t go down nicely either. Whores always bring drama in one form or another.

“After the meeting tomorrow we are gonna lockdown in the penthouses and see what happens. If they make a move, they are going to do it at the club. That is always going to be the main target. The women are gonna make sure every one of y’all is fed. Just do us all a favor and make sure you disgusting motherfuckers actually shower. Yeah? Orders for tonight- go home and wash your ass!” I want to laugh that some of these guys actually need to be told to fuckin’ wash, but it’s the truth.

“You guys really need a fuckin’ hygiene lesson,” Lucky calls from the corner with a smile on his face. Dude is the dirtiest son of a bitch in here.

“How’s that for sarcasm, yeah?” Gunnar says. I’m shocked the guy actually can speak sometimes. “I can smell you all the way over here.”

“Enough, ladies. Stay in tonight; take care of your shit. We have to deal with this. Ryker, Judge, and Gunnar, be ready to hit the road soon. We got business down south. Yeah?” Chrome makes sure we remember our time at home has expired.

“Aye,” I reply followed by the other two men not putting up any objections.

This is gonna be a shit storm of epic proportions and I am almost thankful we are gonna be on the road when it all goes down. I just hope we don’t come back home to any dead brothers.