Page 2 of Bred by the MC VP

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She scowled, but the expression looked more hurt than angry.

Dog moved around her and went inside. As soon as the door closed behind him, he simultaneously felt his heart drop, like it weighed two hundred pounds, and a sense of bitter relief. He’d done what he had to do. Maybe being a fucking asshole would ensure she stayed away from him.

He entered the kitchen and checked out the lunch offerings on the counter. Dog grabbed a plate and filled it up, then took a seat. He needed to grab a bite to eat then meet up with Forge, his prez, to discuss business.

His mind was still a mess when Beth walked toward his table. He ground his teeth but forced himself to play nice.

“How’s the baby?” he asked.

“He’s sleeping.” She sat down opposite him.

Dog nodded and continued eating. “I’ve never seen Forge so happy. A family looks good on him.”

Beth smiled. “What about you, Dog? I just saw Sable run upstairs. She was crying.”

“And?”

She scowled. “I know how she feels about you. I thought it was mutual. You visited her every day after she got shot. It doesn’t make sense to me.”

He hated when old ladies couldn’t mind their own fucking business, but Dog had to be on his best behavior with Beth or Forge would rip his head off.

“You never grew up in a club. Things work a certain way, always have, always will. We don’t marry whores.”

“Why the change of heart?”

“No change of heart,” he said. “A guy can’t be nice? We help our own around here. That’s where it ends.”

“I never said anything, but before she was shot, she talked about you. She said it was her dream for you to pick her. Like it was some big prize. It’s obvious that she’s in love with you.” Beth shrugged. “Sable’s a great girl. No way does she deserve to be treated like garbage.”

Beth got up and walked away. He wanted to tell her to wait, to hear him out, but he kept his mouth shut. Beth and Sable had become good friends, so he’d always be on the losing side.

Dog continued eating, his body still tense from hearing what Sable said about him. Yes, in a perfect world, he’d claim her. But if he ever decided to settle down, he’d want a woman who was clean, just for him. He didn’t want half the fucking club knowing what she looked like naked or reminding him they’d fucked her every which way. And they would. Besides, taking an old lady and starting a family weren’t priorities in his mind. He had a lot of anger built up. His own mother dumped him when he was born, and that rejection stuck. He didn’t want to repeat history.

He was better off on his own.

Being VP to the Hell’s Slaves was his life.

His mood continued to sour as his thoughts darkened. What he needed was the usual violent outlet, and the club always provided. He hoped Forge had something he wanted cleaned up. It would give him a chance to blow off steam.

Dog met the prez out back near his forge.

“Hey, daddy.”

Forge glared at him, his features set hard. Then he smiled. “I can’t even get mad. It sounds too damn good.”

Dog leaned against the doorway. “Things going well with the family?”

“Perfect. I’m living on cloud-fucking-nine.” Forge began to tidy up the tools on his bench. He was working on some new knives and some sort of iron work with his kid’s initials. Dog didn’t bother mentioning it, or Forge would get defensive. Deny it or not, the prez was putty when it came to his wife and baby son.

“You wanted to talk?”

“Yeah.” He continued tidying. “How’s Redneck getting along? Any problems?”

After they killed their backstabbing Sergeant-at-Arms, they’d gone without an enforcer for too long. They finally voted in Redneck. He was younger but he’d been born in the club and was a ruthless motherfucker. He’d proved himself loyal time and time again. “He’s doing good. That kid has a lot to prove.”

“I like the sound of that. Keep an eye on him.” Forge came closer and focused on him. “The new mayor wants some quiet cleanup.”

Dog laughed out loud. “One corrupt mayor after the other. Good for business, I guess.”

“Very good. We’ll have him wrapped around our finger in no time. We’ll visit him tomorrow and hear him out.”

“He know what happened with Peterson?”

“I really don’t fucking care. If he pays, we’ll do the job,” said Forge. “In the meantime, get some of the boys to pull up any dirt there is on him. Ideally, I’d like to get pics of him with one of our girls. He’s married and they’ll come in handy if he tries to fuck with us. Politicians are so easy to blackmail.”

“Will do.”

No violence for today. He’d have to hit the gym and take out his frustration on the punching bag. Anything to get Sable off his mind.


Tags: Sam Crescent, Stacey Espino Erotic