Page 1 of Knox (The Black Roses MC #4)

Chapter one

Knox

T his last year has been a cluster fuck of epic proportions. The only thing that’s kept my head on straight has been being able to take my bike out. It feels like we’ve barely had a chance to breathe—especially between dealing with the Italians, helping the Irish clean up their mess, and keeping our own businesses running smoothly. I’ve been looking forward to the day I can ride with my brothers and not have to worry about what shit show tomorrow is going to bring.

The snow has finally melted in Shine, but it's still cold as hell as my brother and I wind through the tree-lined roads leading back into town. The first signs of spring are in the air, and the barren trees are starting to sprout new leaves. Guess that’s a sign of new beginnings or some shit. We sure as hell could use it after the last year.

When we reach the city limits, Linc pulls into Maple Street Diner—the little restaurant we’ve been coming to since we were kids—and parks his bike off to the side of the brick building just like we do every time we stop here.

“I’m fucking freezing,” he says when I turn the engine of my Harley off. “Let’s get some coffee.”

“You should have worn more than just a flannel, dumbass,” I say, swinging my leg over the seat.

“Fuck off. It didn’t feel this cold when we left.”

“Damn, little brother. You kiss our mother with that mouth?” I ask with a smirk.

“Hey, you started it. And leave our poor saintly mother out of it.”

We both laugh as we walk through the front door. Our mother is many things, but saintly isn’t one of them. Tanya Anderson is one tough cookie. Hell, she had to be—raising me on her own after being kicked out of her house for a teenage pregnancy required strength, that’s for sure. When she met Linc’s dad, she thought her luck finally turned around. We packed up and moved from Tennessee to Nebraska. I was too young to remember much about Tennessee, but I sure as hell remember Nebraska.

It took a couple years for her new husband to show his true colors after Linc was born. Then it turned into years of him getting drunk and beating on me and my mom. He usually left Linc alone, content with raging at the two of us. When he lost his job, my mom finally kicked his sorry ass out. Then he showed up one night, looking for money or a punching bag, probably both. He attacked our mom, and when I tried to get him off her, he turned his wrath on me. If Linc hadn’t hit him over the head with a frying pan, who knows if I’d be here today. We took off that night and didn’t stop until we landed in Shine, Massachusetts, where my mom found a good job at the bike shop owned by the Black Roses MC—and an even better man in Trick, the former Black Roses president.

“Saint Tanya would have told you the same thing. Next time you want to take a ride, wear a damn jacket, or at least a sweatshirt so you don’t freeze your balls off,” I say as we have a seat in the red vinyl booth.

The plastic-covered menus are on the table, and Florence, the waitress who’s been here since I was a kid, comes over with two cups of steaming-hot coffee.

“You boys look like you need a warm-up,” Florence says when she sets the coffee mugs on the table. “How’s your mom?”

Everyone in town knows our mom. After moving to Shine, she threw herself into volunteering for anything the town needed. Whether it’s the women’s shelter or the various parades and festivals the town hosts throughout the year, Tanya is front and center—directing and squeezing donations from business owners for charity raffles. Hell, maybe there is a touch of saint in her, after all. I don’t think she’ll be nominated for sainthood just yet—she quite enjoys wringing money from the pockets of rich business owners around town who think they’re better than us.

“She’s good. Busy getting everything together for the Spring Fling next month,” I reply, giving the woman a polite smile.

“Tell her I’m making a few things for her raffle.”

I nod with a smile. “Will do.”

Florence leaves to go check on her other tables, and Linc leans back in the booth, taking a sip of the hot coffee.

“I can’t believe that’s coming up already. It doesn’t seem like it’s been a year since we were out there at the ass crack of dawn setting up all the booths and shit for her,” he says.

That’s another thing about our mom. Being the old lady of the former MC prez still gives her a lot of sway in the club, not that any of us would ever tell her no to begin with. When she heads the town festivals, all of us get roped into helping. Well, except Trick; his arthritis has gotten so bad he can barely hold a hammer. He’s more than happy to sit back and sip coffee while directing us to do Tanya’s bidding.

“It’ll be nice, especially after this past year, to do something that doesn’t involve the Italian and Irish and their bullshit,” I say.

“Yeah, I’m all for lending a helping hand, but I think I’ve made enough trips out to the pig farm to last a lifetime.” Linc releases an overdramatic shudder.

“You went once,” I say before taking a long drink of the hot coffee. “I had to be there every time.”

“Exactly, and once was more than enough for me.”

“Pussy.”

“Sorry, man, but the way those damn things snort and get excited when we pull up is the stuff of nightmares.” Linc’s face twists in disgust.

The night Carlo Cataldi was taken out, I introduced Eoghan Monaghan, Finn’s brother, to the farmer. He wore a similar look to the one Linc has now.

We’ve worked with the Monaghan family—the Irish Mob who runs Boston and now pretty much all of Massachusetts—for years, mostly running guns for them. Through the years, our business arrangement has turned into a friendship and has been strengthened with family ties that none of us saw coming. When shit goes down, we have their back like they’ve had ours. We could all use a little downtime after the chaos of the last few years.

Carlo Cataldi, the former head of one of the Italian families in Boston, had been a thorn in our sides for almost a year. He was taken out by Finn Monaghan’s cousin who also happened to be Cataldi’s new brother-in-law. Though our club had a plenty big bone to pick with Cataldi, our prez, Ozzy, agreed to let the Monaghans take the lead—and that’s exactly what they did. We were fortunate enough to help them out with it, and from what I hear, Ozzy got a few licks in. I was stuck in the truck making sure none of the rats scattered, which is a shame because I’d have loved to get a few punches in myself after the shit he put my brothers through. But I go where my prez needs me, and that’s all there is to it.

A few months ago, that brought us to the home of Massimo Farina, the head of the other Italian family who had a nice little setup here in Massachusetts, key word being had . He decided to take up where Cataldi left off with the skin trade, and just like Cataldi, it didn’t end well for him. That was a whole other mess that landed us at the pig farm by the time we were through, but it also brought Nova Reed into our lives. Her brother was a prospect for the club who was killed while trying to protect Jude’s old lady, Lucy, from the cult fucks who abused her from the day she was born and wanted her back.

Thinking about Cooper always sends a twinge of grief coupled with guilt through me. As the vice president of the Black Roses MC, the safety and lives of my brothers and the prospects are my responsibility just as much as Ozzy’s. Cooper’s death wasn’t in vain, though, and we got bloody revenge for our fallen brother.

“Hey, where'd you go?” Linc asks, pulling me out of the memories surrounding the night we stormed the cult compound with the help of Jude’s brother, Liam, and his team to rescue Lucy and put down as many of those assholes as we could.

It was a good night. For us anyways.

“Nowhere, brother.”

It’s been a hell of a year, and we could all do with some peace and quiet.

The front door opens and Linc’s face lights up, which means only one thing.

“Hey, Charlie Pie,” Linc says as his old lady slides into the booth next to him.

“We saw your bikes and decided to stop in and say hi,” Charlie says after her lips have disconnected from my brother’s in a not-for-public-consumption kiss.

“Where’s Jude?” I ask Lucy as she slides in next to me.

“Meeting us here,” she answers. “He was putting some finishing touches on his bike before we take it out tomorrow.”

Looks like the little excursion with my brother is about to turn into a double date. I don’t begrudge Linc and Jude for finding what they have with their old ladies. Hell, I don’t even begrudge Ozzy and Freya, and those two have had each other in knots since we were seniors in high school. But I’d be lying if I didn’t sometimes feel like a fifth wheel.

“We have drinks with Mia tomorrow after you get off work,” Charlie reminds Lucy. My ears may or may not perk up at the mention of the school librarian who came back to town right after Charlie and Lucy got here.

“Maizie wants to work a double. Says Colby wants to start baseball, and she needs the extra cash. So I have the afternoon off.”

Fuck. I remember my mom scrimping together money for me and Linc to be able to play sports when we were kids. Trick always made sure there was enough in her check to cover the costs.

“Does Wyatt know?” I ask. Our club secretary has had moon eyes for the bartender at Thorn and Thistle, the bar the club owns, for as long as she’s worked there.

“Why would he care?” Linc asks, and Lucy snickers beside me.

Jesus, my brother can be dumb as a box of rocks sometimes.

Wyatt’s been pining for Maizie for years now, though the kid is too chicken shit to act on anything.

“I’ll make sure there’s extra in her check this week. Maybe make sure a few of the guys go in thirsty and generous with their tips,” I offer.

“Thanks, Knox,” Lucy says as Jude walks over to our table.

“Hey, Lucifer.” Jude bends down and gives his woman a typical rough kiss on the mouth.

Jesus, these guys still haven’t figured out that they don’t need to pee a circle around their women. There’s not a soul in town who isn’t aware of who Charlie and Lucy belong to and, in turn, who Linc and Jude belong to.

“How’s Mia been? We haven’t seen her around much,” Linc says.

“She’s been good. Just busy with work and getting things set up for the Spring Fling. Her new vice principal said that a good portion of the money raised could potentially go toward funding for the library, so she’s been drafting proposals and all that shit to make sure it happens,” Lucy answers.

When Mia moved back just over a year ago, she met Lucy and Charlie at Thorn and Thistle and the three have been friends since. I remember her from high school, but she was a few years younger and we didn’t exactly run in the same circles. She’s been out to the clubhouse a few times, but I have a feeling she’s not particularly comfortable around bikers. Or maybe it’s just me.

When some shit went down with Lucy and that fucking cult that tried to take her, I made it perfectly clear Mia was to remember things exactly the way we needed her to. Maybe I came on a little strong, but there was no doubt things were going to get real fucking violent real fucking fast, and I needed to make sure she understood her version of events matched ours.

Now the girl barely talks to me and is uptight as hell any time I’m around. Just as well. There’s no denying there was a spark of attraction on my end when she came back to town. But Mia is too sweet, too good . Not only have I decided she’s off limits for me, but I also made damn sure every asshole in the club knew she was off limits for them, too.

Here’s the thing—Charlie, Lucy, and even Freya are made of pretty fucking tough stock. Life has thrown them all a bunch of shit at one time or another, and they're stronger for it. Strong enough to handle this life. Mia, on the other hand? She’s soft, too soft to take on the role of an old lady in a criminal motorcycle club. And I could tell, from the moment I laid eyes on her, that she’s the type who would need all or nothing—so nothing it is. It has to be. At least that’s what I keep telling myself.

“Is she coming to Knox’s birthday party?” my brother asks with a shit-eating grin directed at me.

The man could be dense as hell at times, but he caught a few lingering looks from me toward Mia and likes to rib me about it. He’s not so much of an asshole to call me out in front of everyone, but the little fucker likes to see if he can make me squirm.

Spoiler alert—he can’t.

“I’m not sure. She really isn’t one for parties,” Charlie answers.

Mia’s been out to the clubhouse for a few of the family dinners my mom hosts, but big parties are a different story. I’ve considered skipping my birthday entirely. It’s not like the club needs much of a reason to party, and the guest of honor not showing up wouldn’t stop a bunch of bikers from getting drunk and eating a shit ton of food.

“Don’t even think about it, brother,” Linc pipes up.

“What are you talking about?” I ask.

My little brother shakes his head. “No, no. I see the wheels turning in your head. You’re going to be there.”

Fucking asshole.

I roll my eyes and let out a very manly huff of annoyance. “It’s just a party. We can have one for any reason. The reason doesn’t need to revolve around my birthday.”

“Except our dear mother wants to do something for you, and Trick talked to Ozzy, and Ozzy gave him his word that you’d be there. You want to make a liar out of our prez and break Mom’s heart in the process?”

“That’s a bit dramatic,” I reply.

“That’s life.” The little shit gives a self-satisfied shrug as though he has it all figured out. Not that he doesn’t. There’s no way in hell I’d be willing to do any of that, and he damn well knows it.

“I’ll be there,” I concede. “You have my word.”

“With a smile on your face,” Linc adds.

“Don’t push it.” I tap Lucy on the shoulder and indicate to her I need to get up.

Linc looks at me with a grin. “Leaving me with the check?”

“Yup.” I stand and zip up the jacket I have under my cut.

“Where you heading?” he asks.

“For a ride.”

“We just got back from one.”

“And now I’m going on another one. By myself.”

I’m not necessarily annoyed, but after thinking about the Irish, the shit with the Italians, Cooper, hell, all of it, I’m feeling a little antsy sitting here with everyone.

“Suit yourself,” Linc says.

“Catch you assholes later,” I say, and Jude throws up a middle finger before sliding into the booth I just vacated.

When I reach the front of the diner, Florence is standing behind the counter and I toss a couple twenties in front of her.

“It’s only a few cups of coffee, Knox,” she says, looking from the cash, then back to me.

I give her a smile and nod. “I know.”

Looking back over at the table, I catch my brother giving his woman a sweet kiss on the head and Lucy smacking Jude on the shoulder while she rolls her eyes at some asinine comment I’m sure he just made. I’m fucking happy as hell that my brother and Jude found those two. I’ve never seen any of them as happy as they’ve been over the last year and some change. All the bullshit they had to deal with to get here has been worth it. And now that this shit with the Irish and Italians is over, Massachusetts has a new criminal empire running the show. One we happen to be thick as thieves with. I hope like hell it can stay as peaceful as it is now. Or at the very least, let us enjoy the downtime for a little while.