Page 10

AJAX

It had been a few weeks since I moved into Lou's place, and I had to admit it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. Of course, I slept in her bed, and we fucked every night and morning. We couldn't get enough of each other.

I updated Diezel, Jagger, and Mace on Mick's situation, why she tried to run away, and Sinister Creed MC.

"She's just a kid," Diezel said through gritted teeth. "She's your kid, for fucks sake! No way some bullshit club is going to touch her."

Every member of the Berzerkers MC felt the same as Diezel. They protected her, and the news spread from Richmond to Baltimore.

“We’ll protect her. No one can touch her,” Diezel said.

“Thanks Prez.”

“Truck and Saber are at the gym. Why don’t you head out there and make sure they are training the way you want.”

“Sure thing Prez.” I left and rode to the gym.

Truck, a six-foot, four-inch, two hundred and fifty-pound muscular man, had a thick neck and massive cranium. Saber, who was built like me, was lean, strong, and quick on his feet. He could become a killer in the fighting pit with some endurance training.

Truck and Saber were getting in shape, and I trained them hard. Truck could deliver a hard punch, and if his meaty fist landed on his opponent's temple with a hard left hook, it would be a guaranteed knockout. But Truck wasn’t as quick on his feet and didn’t have the endurance to go a few rounds like Saber.

I watched Saber at the speed bag while a brother spotted Truck as he did heavy barbell squats when the black phone on the wall rang. A prospect answered, then hollered to me. "Ajax, it's Jagger. Sounds urgent."

I walked over and took the phone. "Hey, Jagger."

"Hey brother, you need to get your ass to the clubhouse pronto. Diezel's about to blow a gasket. Your daughter is here with one of her friends," Jagger said, his voice low.

I heard female voices in the background. One voice was definitely Mick's.

"On my way," I said, then slammed the phone on the hook.

Pulling in, I saw a blue Chevette with a dent in the left corner panel parked beside the doorway. My fists clenched as I marched inside.

Mick isn’t stupid, so why would she just walk into the clubhouse?

Diezel walked toward me, raking both hands through his hair, looking frustrated. "Get the girls out of here, Ajax."

Mongoose and Mace sat at the bar with Mick and another girl with long, curly, dark hair. The girls sat at the bar like they were invited, flirting with a prospect behind the bar who was about to hand Mick's friend a bottle of beer. I felt steam coming out of my ears as I stormed over and behind the bar.

The prospect’s eyes bulged out of his skull, and I grabbed the front of his rags. He raised his hands in a show of submission and fear. "I didn't do anything, Ajax!"

I let go and shoved the prospect. All I saw was red, blood, and flames. I couldn't even speak. Shutting my eyes, I took a deep breath and exhaled, then opened my eyes to glare at the prospect. "Go find something to do."

Mace chuckled and shook his head. "Worse thing a prospect can do is look at a club brother's underage daughter.

I went back around the bar and pulled Mick off her stool and growled. "What in the actual fuck are you doing here?!"

Mick yanked her arm out of my grasp and nodded toward the girl sitting on the stool beside her. "This is my friend Sheila, who drove us here. That's her car parked outside."

I looked at Sheila more closely. There was a dark shadow of a bruise under her left eye. I had no doubt that someone at home was abusing her. Picturing my daughter being attacked and brutalized filled me with frenzied rage.

"Sheila is my friend, and she's stuck up for me against all the asshole kids at school. Now I want to help her."

"Who hit you?" I asked Sheila.

She looked frightened but didn't answer me.

"It's okay. Tell my dad who hits you?" Mick said to reassure her.

"My stepdad hits me. His name is Carl Murphy. He hits my mom, too. And I hate him." Sheila looked down at the bar.

"Can you talk to Carl?" Mick asked. "Tell him to stop. Sheila is my only friend, and she's helped me survive my first few weeks at school. Some of those kids are lame assholes!"

The world was a fucked up, brutal place, it's hard to find people you could count on to be a friend. The only loyalty I could count on was with the Berzerkers MC. Sometimes, the brotherhood in the club was taken for granted, but since I'd been with the Richmond Chapter, I felt this was where I belonged.

"Describe to me what he looks like. Where does he work?" I asked Sheila.

"Carl has blond hair, but he's balding. About as tall as you are and has a beer gut. He opened a strip club called Paradise City, but this bike gang came in a few months ago. They call themselves the Death Angels."

A diamond club in Berzerker territory?

"How do you know what goes on there?" I asked. "You're just a fuckin kid!"

"I've been around enough men like the Death Angels, men like you, to know that I'm not going to end up being some clubwhore."

I looked back at Mick. "Have Sheila drive you home. A few of my brothers and I will talk to Carl."

"Thanks, Dad!" Mick said, then hugged me. "Can she stay over for the night?"

"Ask Lou, but I'm sure she’ll be okay with it."

Later that night, I, Diezel, Jagger, Mace, and Mongoose rode into Richmond for Paradise CIty. As we pulled in the lot, a few bikes were parked together. Our headlights were aimed at the front entrance, and we twisted our throttles, revving the bikes so everyone inside could hear the loud, thunderous roar of our pipes.

A man came outside, shielding his eyes from the brightness of our headlights. Diezel and I shut off our bikes, climbed off, and approached the man.

"Is Carl Murphy here?" I asked.

The man winced at the loud roaring of pipes. "He's inside."

"Then let's go inside."

We walked into the scent of cigarettes, beer, weed, and perfume. It looked like any other strip club with fancy chairs and tables, four small stages with dancers wearing nothing but high heels. Diezel and I spotted the two men wearing colors with their backs to us, sitting near one of the stages. Their center patch was a grinning skull over two criss-crossed scythes, with Death Angels on the top rocker and Virginia on the bottom rocker. I sized them up, a basic instinct every Berzerker does before a fight. I planned to make these bullshit patch-wearing assholes walk out with a few missing teeth or a broken bone.

They turned around as we approached, and one of them, with an eye patch over his left eye, stepped up to Diezel and blocked him. "This is Death Angel turf."

Diezel was quick, throwing a quick jab into the man's right eye.

A girl screamed when eye-patch-asshole stumbled back and bumped into a table, knocking over beer bottles and ashtrays.

The other Death Angel pulled a switchblade from inside his rags and came at me, so I struck him with a quick right jab to the throat. He dropped the knife as his hands grabbed his throat and his eyes bulged out of his head, trying to get air into his lungs.

The man who led us inside ran toward the back of the club and down a dark hall, so we followed. He opened the door to a private office when Diezel pushed him out of the way. A man sat in a chair behind a desk, his head leaning back, eyes closed. He quickly opened his eyes and stood with his pants down while his hands covered his dick and balls.

"What the fuck?" he shouted.

A girl with long brown hair appeared from behind the desk. She was on her knees and looked too young to be in the club, and I instantly thought of Mick.

Diezel marched over to the man, grabbed his shirt, and yanked him over the desk. "Are you Carl Murphy?"

I focused on the girl and walked around the desk to offer her my hand. She took it and stood, rubbing red lipstick off her mouth with her forearm. She wore a red bikini and tried to balance on high heels.

"Go put some clothes on and get outta here," I said.

"But I have nowhere to go," the girl said, shivering as a tear fell down the side of her cheek. "I ran away from home, and Carl's men took me in and got me a job here." She clung to me. "I don't wanna be here!" she said, sobbing with her face smashed into my rags.

She was someone's daughter, like Mick was mine. I couldn’t just abandon her. I wrapped an arm around her shoulders while Diezel yanked Carl across the desk and slapping him across the face. “The Berzerkers MC are taking over Paradise City I don't want to see another Death Angel rag in Richmond after tonight. You're done! Now get put your dick back in your pants, get your shit, and get the fuck out!"