When I kill the engine I can hear the thumps of loud music and rowdy whoops of my men cutting loose inside.
I notice a new car in the gravel driveway telling me my vice president, Rage, has gone on another shopping binge. It’s that or a few lines of coke, so he calls it his lesser of two evils. The fucker doesn’t understand living under the radar. A new Jag is slid in beside my Hummer and I smirk a little because I can appreciate the love of fine transportation. I pat the tank of my bike and give her a little rub. “Don’t worry, baby. Nothing will take your place.”
War cries and shouts ring in my ears when I swing the front door open. There are four levels. Basement, this floor and two above. This level is for anyone. The basement is for the patched members of the Sons of Savages. My brothers. The top level is off-limits. No excuses.
Beer and hard liquor flow and all the club candy is here with bonus friends. Everyone is in various stages of undress and the pool table is being used as a bed.
“Devil, get the fuck off the pool table, man. Nobody wants to see your ass in the air!”
Through an archway, I spot Riot ribbing our brother who only answers with a stiff middle finger before getting back to work taking his flavor of the night over the edge.
“Hey Ares, baby. How about a little fun time? You’ve been gone for almost a week, handsome. Everyone else is taken for the night but me.” I stayed in the city knowing the Volkov brothers were keeping tabs on me running up to auction time. The peace and quiet were a nice change.
Kendra struts her tall frame from the main gathering room and winds her arms around me. I don’t remember too much about her past but enough to know why she has a whiskey in her hand most nights she’s not working the casino. I smell sex and booze on her in layers and I’m not about to touch that.
I peel her off and pass her to Riot, the club treasurer. Big eyes hit mine for a second before popping over to Rage as if either will move against my wishes. She pouts but gets the message.
“Where’s Fergie?” Savage’s only ol’ lady of the club runs a tight ship maintaining the girls and keeps everyone in order.
Rage steps away from a couple of nearly stripped candies and comes up beside me, a fresh beer in hand. He shakes his head. He’s clad in a black T-shirt beneath a worn, leather cut bearing the name of our motorcycle club and ass-kicking steel-tipped boots. He personified bad boy down to the sleeves of tattoos and a few piercings. Ones you could see and according to the club candy, some you couldn’t. Crazy shit.
He puffs a couple of times on a cigar and blows out rings. “Don’t know. But when I do, want me to send her your way?”
We spent a lot of years acclimating to our new country for the sake of blending in. Hard when you look like a fucking Russian polar bear like myself. Shaking our roots and adopting American slang and mannerisms wasn’t easy on any of us except Rage. The man could shift with the wind. One second he was an Irishman and the next he could make you believe he was a priest.
Devil, the youngest of our tight brotherhood strolls up fixing his zipper. A prospect we patched in a couple of years back after spending three more proving himself to the brothers.
“Find Fergie. Tell her to get the top floor ready. The works. We’re about to have a guest who isn’t going to be happy about staying with us. And get another room ready on the second floor.”
He nods, asks no question, and pivots toward the back of the house where Fergie can usually be found toiling around in the kitchen or home library. For an old broad who grew up in the crowded MC life and then married into it, she sure as hell takes her alone time seriously.
“You get a little greedy at the auction?” Rage’s sandy blond hair slides around his face as he comes in close.
I don’t consciously thrust my hand out and clasp Rage’s. It’s automatic. We bump shoulders and give each other a thump on the back. Solid as steel and just as trustworthy. A lifetime of running together forged a connection we both lean on from time to time. Like now. When we chase heat and light fires to smoke out the scum we don’t want invading our territory.
“Moy droog.”
“Brother.”
“It was hard not to burn the shit hole down with the people in it and call it a night.”
Rage pulls away and purses his lips in an“I know what you mean”manner and nods. “Copy that. Lucky for them you were in a good mood.”
I clamp a hand over his substantial shoulder. “Call a meeting downstairs.” Thenowis implied.
A crease mars the space between his brows but he nods and pushes away the club candy leeching to his side.
Rage swats her ass. “Get going, Pip. I’ll catch you later, babe. Duty calls.”
I shake my head when I see her bottom lip jut out. “Here we go,” I mutter. I have no damn clue how any of them put up with all the pouty shit these candies dish out, but I chalk it up to all of them having soft centers under all their tough exteriors. But I keep my mouth shut and turn on my heel.
“Aww, but, Rage we—”
He huffed out a heavy breath and I already know where this is headed. “Babe, I said get rollin’. You’re not new to how this shit rolls. I gotta go.”
I leave my club brother to fend for himself. His dick problems are his alone. I’m about to have my own woman problems. I’ve told all the patches club candy is not for getting serious about but it seems he’s failed to inform the girl that. Piper is decent with a good head on her shoulders but when she’s not on the clock at the Asylum, my upscale bar, she turns into a carefree and willing party girl who doesn’t like taking no for an answer. Usually, that gets her a good lay from one of the patches or a prospect, but she knows better than to play that shit with me.
I hear her try to get her way again as I walk down the main hallway and toward the stairs leading to the basement. I’ve made extensive repairs to the place since buying it almost a decade prior. Reinforced steel walls for the main floor took the longest but well worth the time. And then bullet-proof glass for each window and down here soundproof padding lines the entire basement. The best fucking bar money can buy makes this level the best thinking spot in the entire clubhouse.