The rumble from RBMC’s bikes drown out the truck’s engine as we pull away in a group. They ride at our backs, not knowing where we’re taking them. This is all one big show of trust between the two clubs, and anyone fucking up will end up shot, that much is crystal clear. I should expect nothing less, anything with Viking is chaotic. It’s probably why I fit in with these guys so well.
“So far, so good,” I mutter, keeping my gaze pinned between the rearview mirror and the bikes on our asses.
“Ripper’s not stupid enough to fuck this up. He’s a tough motherfucker, but Viking would crush him.”
“Hmm,” I grunt in agreement.
Our club has been growing, not only our charter but the others as well. We’re one of the largest clubs in the country at this point, and anyone coming after us risks harsh retaliation. The Iron Fists forced our hand with their past attacks, and it’s turned Viking more savage than he’s ever been in the past with retaliation. The MCs across the nation have all heard of our club’s reputation and the notoriety of our Nomads. We protect our women and children, our brothers, and defend our territory fiercely. Anyone encroaching on either will surely feel the repercussions.
The Oath Keepers are all about safety and freedom. We keep ours safe and relish in the freedom to make our own choices and do whatever the hell we want. I don’t know anyone who wouldn’t want to defend those few sacred club laws.
Eventually, we make it to the turn-off leading to the pigs. I’ll never forget the first time I was out here—I was still a Nomad back then. I remember the squeal of the hogs and the excitement in their whines as Ares had sawed through enemies’ bodies and tossed the pieces to the animals. They’d snorted and squealed as the fresh, bloody flesh was consumed at an unhealthy pace. I’d puked my guts up, but from what I hear, nearly everyone does their first time. Needless to say, I keep my distance from the fat fuckers. There’s no way I’m losing a leg or some other body part to their appetite for fresh meat. Sinner likes to joke we’ll smoke one of them someday, and it always makes me gag even if he’s only screwing with me.
Torch, the club’s Death Dealer, is at the massive, weathered barn waiting for us. I hop out to help him open the barn doors and nod a greeting. Nightmare backs the truck inside, and we follow along with the RBMC members. “You know where we’re supposed to stack these boxes?” I ask Torch because I haven’t the faintest idea what Viking wants us to do with it once we’ve arrived. If it were my call, I’d douse it in gasoline and have a bonfire or hand it over to the local sheriff. It’d rid us of the problem quickly.
Torch flicks his distrustful gaze along the RBMC members, staring them down solemnly until Ripper steps forward to offer him a handshake. The tension eases a bit, and Torch meets my stare. “The cellar.” His chin lifts to the metal door in the middle of the barn floor that’s been padlocked. His presence is ominous. The dude is my brother, but he reminds me of the damn Grim Reaper. Needless to say, I wouldn’t want him hunting me down.
“Surely, Vike isn’t considering selling this?” We don’t deal in heavy drugs—it’s something we’ve been adamant about since the beginning. Some of the brothers sell a bit of weed and some pills, but that’s it. I have plenty of cash in my account from playing football, so I don’t sell or buy shit. I bring moonshine for the club back from Alabama, but that’s to share with the club. I’ve heard Ripper and his boys deal cocaine and molly, but none of us peddle H, crack, or meth.
The group begins downloading once Torch opens the cellar. We walk off to the side, and he quietly shares with me, “The Chicago charter is moving it for Joker.”
“Italian mob is into hard drugs?”
He shoots me a look, saying, ‘What the fuck do you think?’ “Brother, they’re the mafia. They deal in everything.”
I nod. “I’ll never understand men’s morals when it comes to this shit. It ruins too many innocent lives.”
He shrugs. “Everyone has a choice, brother. I’ll face the devil for mine as they’ll have to with theirs.”
“Isn’t that the fucking truth,” I agree and head for the truck to help. The sooner we get this shit put away, the sooner we get to catch up with Zeus and throw back a cold one.
“Hey, Ripper,” I call out. “What do you know about that sexy chick you’ve got slinging drinks?”
“I know she’ll shut your pretty ass down,” he retorts, and the room fills with chuckles.
We’ll see about that.
Chapter 3
“I don’t understand, Cherry. This woman is immune to me or something. I say anything, and she comes back at me tenfold. The women here have always loved me, same as on the road. I’ve never had a woman not want my attention in some way, whether it was sexual or not. Hell, at this rate, she won’t even be my friend which, don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to be friend-zoned.”
She grins. “The women here know you as a big soft teddy bear too. She doesn’t know that side of you. Even when you were playing football, all those women knew you had money and a squeaky-clean reputation, so they were all over you. If she doesn’t realize who you are or doesn’t care, that could be a good thing. If she really intrigues you, and you like her, then show her who you are. You’re kind, reliable, and sexy. Every woman wants that, even if she says she doesn’t want a biker.”
“Smartest thing Odin’s done is put his patch on your back,” I compliment, making her beam brightly. She’d been crushing on the brother from the moment she laid eyes on the young biker. Years later, they’re finally living their version of happily ever after.
“Oh sure, you say that because I’m stroking your ego.”
My brows raise as Odin comes up behind her, locking his arms around her frame. “Better not be stroking anything that’s not attached to me,” he grumbles, and we chuckle.
She meets his gaze over his shoulder. “I’m not. I was assuring this big guy that the woman he’s interested in wouldn’t find him lacking once she gets to know him.”
“I’ve got several innovative ideas on how to warm her up.” I flash a sharp grin, making them laugh.
“Take it down a notch, Chaos, or you’ll overwhelm her,” Cherry warns. “She’s not a fan or a club whore and probably gets hit on all the time. If she’s caught your eye, she must stand out from the crowd.”
“Good, overwhelming her senses will suffice for the time being. I don’t want her to be able to think of anything else. Just me.”
Odin whistles quietly. “Damn, that serious? Cherry’s right, the chick must be something special to have you hung up on her.”
I smirk, meeting his stare. “That ass on her is special, all right. Her attitude doesn’t make it any easier on me either.”
“Can’t wait to meet this bitch,” he comments, and Cherry smacks his arm. “Ouch, woman, I’m just sayin’ for Chaos’ benefit.”
She rolls her eyes. “Remember that later when you’re whining for my mouth.” In the next blink, she’s screaming and laughing as he yanks her off the barstool and tosses her over his shoulder.