Prologue
I never considered myself to be a player. Sure, I appreciated the company of a beautiful woman from time to time, but I never led any of them on. I didn’t make empty promises or insinuations that I was looking for anything more than a good, hard fuck. Never had to. I’d always made sure the women I hooked up with knew exactly what they were getting into—a night of the best sex they’d ever had—followed by my immediate exit.
Just to be clear, I wasn’t some lost soul who was searching for the love I never got as a kid. Nothing happened to me in my past that fucked me up and I wasn’t able to shake it. I wasn’t seeking some kind of validation or affection to heal my wounded heart. I was simply a man who didn’t want any complications. I didn’t have time for it and most likely never would.
Don’t get me wrong. There were times when I found myself wondering if I was missing out on something—like the night my brothers and I had gone to Memphis to party with the brothers of Satan’s Fury. While I was there, I’d met a woman who made me question my wicked ways. She was beautiful, but it was her spirit and strength that got to me the most. For the first time in my life, I’d actually considered a life full of complications, but then I discovered she belonged to someone else. Normally, that wouldn’t have been enough to stop me from trying to make a play for her, but she was tied to Clay, my president’s nephew, which made her completely off-limits. I’ll admit, after meeting Landry Dawson, I started to wonder if I’d ever find a woman to claim as my own.
Hawk
Loyalty. Faith. Family. Those are the ties that bind. I'd never realized just how important those ties were until I joined the Ruthless Sinners MC. With them, I’d found a family who’d stand by my side when things went south, as I would them. No matter the circumstance, our loyalty to one another never wavered. We were family—our ties stronger than blood—and I’d never been prouder than the day my brothers voted me in as their sergeant-at-arms. I’d always done my best to fulfill my duties, even when it wasn’t easy—just like tonight.
The brothers had gathered at Stilettos, the club’s main front business, to check out the new strippers our manager had just hired. The guys were eager to see the fresh meat before we opened for the night. They looked like kids on Christmas morning when the music started playing and Candy stepped up on the stage. The hot blonde was all smiles as she made her way over to the pole, and of course, all the guys started hooting and hollering the second she slipped off her halter top. I, on the other hand, just wasn’t into it. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t that I didn’t find Candy attractive, I did. Hell, when it came to chicks, it didn’t matter if they were tall, short, thick, or thin, I could find something appealing about all of them.
But tonight, I had more important things on my mind than getting laid. I was pissed that I hadn’t heard back from Danny—the club’s supplier. He and I needed to have words, and he knew it.
I reached into my back pocket for my phone and was about to dial his number when I heard Axel ask, “Something up?”
“Just waiting to hear back from Danny.”
No one would ever guess that Axel had a good ten to fifteen years on me. The guy was built like an ox and could take any asshole who was stupid enough to go up against him—which was one of the many reasons he was the club’s VP. Axel was aware of the issue with Danny, so I wasn’t surprised when he asked, “You think we should have Shotgun pay him a visit?”
“Definitely.” While Stilettos brought in a good bit of cash for the club, it was nothing compared to the money the girls brought in when they sold coke to our customers. The club had been using Danny for years. We’d done our homework, knew he was supplying for several others in the area, and they’d been pleased with not only his reliability but his product. Everyone knew he wasn’t the main supplier, that he was getting the take from a distributor in Texas, but he’d always been dependable when it came to keeping up with our supply and demand. But recently, it seemed we were having to deal with one fuck-up after the next. It started with a couple of late deliveries, which quickly progressed into him missing one altogether. That in itself should’ve been enough for us to walk away, but we were in a bind for time and bought one last shipment from him—one big fucking shipment that cost over two hundred grand to get our hands on.