Page 17

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

TARGET

Sitting in my car, I am melting my ass off watching and waiting for a punk to leave his motel room.

This little shit thought it would be fun to steal from the club. We caught him on the club security cameras climbing the wall and tossing spare tires back over to his friends. Stupid fucking prick, we have top of the range cameras so none of that shitty pixilated stuff.

“Fuck, my ass is frying in this heat,” Savage whines like the little bitch he is.

“Suck it up, buttercup,” I say, my voice tight.

He looks at me, cocking a perfect fucking eyebrow.

“You alright over there, brother? You not getting any pussy or ass, so you are this pansy ass bitch mood?”

“Fuck off,” I mutter, looking back out the window.

It is because of Mads that I am in this shitty mood. It has been four days since I buried my cock in her and she rode me to the best orgasm of my life. I saw fucking stars.

I can still smell her on me, see how her body bowed, her tits bounced, as she rocked back and forth and I would love a fucking repeat of what we did but the sexy woman is avoiding me.

I have sent her texts but received no reply.

I would call but work at the garage and the club has been busy, then add in this job that Racer has us doing, and my time has been filled.

“Brother, you know you can talk to me, right?” Savage speaks up after a few minutes of me stewing over Madalyn not reaching out to me.

I could tell something went off in her head the second we both came. Her body stiffened slightly, her breath hitched, then she forced herself to breathe more slowly so as not to draw my attention and ask any questions.

I let her have that moment, but when I saw her over to Peter’s house, kissing her senseless again at the door, she smiled and fuck me, it made my heart skip a beat.

Here we are four days later and nothing. Nada, zip from her.

What the fuck?

“I fucked Madalyn on my couch the other night and now she is avoiding me,” I spit out.

Even with being the VP of the club and a good friend of Racer, I am closest to Savage. Hell, we have fucked so we know each other intimately, but I believe we go further than that, and I am grateful to have this crazy fucker on my side.

“She ghosted you?” I nod. “Want me to hunt her down and bring her to you, so she can tell you to your face that she is not interested?” He gives me a bored look.

“Fuck you, she is interested. She came all over my cock, whimpering my name,” I bitch back.

He smirks at me, flashing me his white teeth. “You like her,” he states.

“Of fucking course I like her, fucknut,” I scoff.

“Good, but she needs a warning from me, brother.”

“No, she doesn’t, Savage. She is not like the men you like to fuck in dark rooms, crying for you to feed them your cock while pissing themselves.

Madalyn is sweet like honey, and has been hurt before.

So I need to tread carefully with her. Darian said something about her knowing the ways of an MC, so I can’t help but think she has been with a biker before and the cunt hurt her. ”

“You need to ask her outright. No good comes from keeping shit locked away.” That is Savage for you.

Straight as a fucking arrow when it comes to everything except his sexuality.

“I know. Next time I see her, I will ask.”

“There the little fucker is,” Savage calls out.

We exit the truck, not caring if the fucker sees us because he is not getting away with what he took. He doesn’t see us approach him, Savage taking the lead, me not really caring if the prick gets hurt or not.

He cries out in pain when Savage uses his body to open his motel room door.

“What the fuck?” he says, then turns to face us, the color draining from his face when he sees us standing there.

“Yeah, you know who we are and you are going to tell us where the fuck you took our tires and how you are going to get them back for us.” I step forward, but my phone ringing stops me.

Pulling out my device, I see Pres’s name flash across the screen.

“Deal with him.” I step outside to answer. “Pres?”

“I need you both back at the clubhouse; I have info on the street crew and a new MC in the area.”

“Fuck. Okay, we are with the cunt who stole the tires, well I left Savage with him, so hopefully we get something out of him before he bleeds him dry.”

Race chuckles. “He needs a fucking shrink.”

I laugh with him and reply, “Nah, Pres, we love him the way he is. We will head back to the clubhouse now.”

“Bet.” The calls ends, so I step back inside of the room.

The man is a crying, quivering mess on the floor. Blood coats his face, and hands. Savage is smoking, a cigarette hanging from his mouth.

“Him and his friend sold the tires to some company in Tempe. Got good money too, from all his snotty bragging.”

I glare at the prick on the floor. “You owe the club that money plus interest. I want it delivered to the club by the end of tomorrow.” I kick his foot. “We got to roll out. Pres needs us back.”

Savage nods, before going down onto his haunches, the man flinching back from his imposing frame.

“Remember that no one will find your body. I love endangered plants.”

Savage follows me out of the motel room and we sling our legs over our bikes.

“Do you think he will deliver the money?” Savage asks me.

“No doubt, brother.” I wink at him and we ride toward the clubhouse.

Parking our bikes, we dismount, heading straight inside and to the room where we hold church. The brothers are already sitting around waiting, including Logan.

“Why is the pretty prospect here?” Savage winks at Logan while lowering himself into his seat.

I take the chair to the right of Racer.

Logan, to my fucking surprise, blows a kiss to Savage, who chuckles, then pulls out his trusty blade and starts digging into the large leather cuff on his wrist.

“We got information about the crew that the prospect’s old friends are involved with, and there is some extra shit that I do not want to fucking deal with but will have to. The crew is linked to an MC that is from out of state. The Deadly Dwellers.”

“Never heard of them,” I reply.

The brothers all shake their heads, except Savage.

“They are reckless fuckers. Had a run in with them years ago, before I joined the club. They think they are owed everything by anyone who is within range,” comes his gruff reply.

His face shows just how much this club pissed him off. Savage is normally a laid back kind of guy, and maybe he likes to fuck and is deeply interested in anything horror or linked to death, but we are lucky to have him.

“You had a run win with them and they are still breathing? You’re losing your touch, brother,” Forge jokes and Savage lowers his head, his eyes giving off an evil glint while he laughs.

“I never said the ones I had a run in with lived.” He winks.

“Fucker.” Forge laughs.

“Prospect, you are up.” Logan pushes himself off the wall, standing at the end of the table, looking at each and every one so us before focusing on Pres.

“An old friend got in touch with me; he found out that the crew that Vinny and Valarie were with got mixed up with an MC. It was because of them that Vinnie got sent down, not just the Street Thug crew. So when they protected her from that gang who came looking for their money from Vinnie, the ST crew didn’t tell her that they were in bed with the Deadly Dwellers MC.

Now she is stuck, the SAA has claimed her.

” He grinds out the last part, that information making his blood boil— I can see it.

His cheeks fill with a rage blush, his nostrils flare and his fists are tight at his sides.

Racer stares at the prospect, not saying anything; hell, none of us speaks up. We wait for what Pres is going to say. Racer is a calculated president, he knows what needs to be done.

“So, you want to save this girl?”

“I do. She is why I transferred here.” He looks down at his boots.

“So, guilt brought you here?” Logan’s head snaps up, his narrowed eyes on Pres. “Tell me something, prospect. Would you have come here if she was not in trouble? If she meant something to you, do you think that you would come here just to be with her?”

He thinks on it for second, letting Pres’s words sink in.

Logan is very calm, rarely shows emotion on the outside, but I know the type of person he is. He will deal with things his way, and not drag anyone down with him. From what I have seen he people watches, seeing what makes them flip their shit, or smile.

He reminds me of Finan, but in a more sociable way.

“When I left, they made it clear that I was not welcome back into their lives, but I still kept tabs on them. They were like family to me, that is why it hurt to see how quickly they turned their backs on me, but I cannot stand by and let her get hurt because of some bruised ego, or pride. It is not in me to do that.”

Fuck me with a feather, the man got it.

I smirk, looking at Pres, whose gaze flicks to mine then back to the prospect with respect in his eyes.

“Okay, see what more you can find out without drawing attention to you or the club. I do not want to deal with people who think their shit does not stink. We deal with this quietly, until the time comes when we need to put these fucks in their place.” He looks around the room, and Savage is grinning like a fool because he is liking the idea of them fucking up so he can draw blood.

“Anything else? Savage, I want the monthly report on all club business by the end of week. I am thinking it is time we expand into something more.” He grins.

“What kind of more, Pres?” Rogue asks, leaning his forearms on the table.

“Let’s just say I know of a business that will be coming for a forced takeover soon,” is all he says, but the smile on his face tells us all we need to know.

It will mean us taking it by force but it will bring in the money.

“Good deal, Pres.”

“Forge, Flame, did that lady and her three kids get to the safe house?”

“They did,” Forge confirms.

“The teenage daughter had a bit to say on moving, but the mom soon shut her up with a few live truths,” Flame adds.

“Good; anything else?” Pres asks the room.

He bangs the gavel, ending church. The men filter out, leaving me alone with Racer, who is watching me as I watch him.

“What have you got planned?”

His grin widens.

“You know that bar and grill that is over on 7 th West?”

I nod. “Yeah, they have good wings but shitty management and staff.”

“Got word that the bank is foreclosing on it soon. The owner has not been keeping up with payments so I want us to swoop in and take the fucker from him, fire all the staff. Except the chef, I have it on good authority that he is the only good thing about the place. Get all new in, start fresh. Could be a money maker.”

I nod, thinking over the times I have been there and it has been busy as fuck, especially on game days.

“I am game, brother. Nothing wrong with bringing cash into the club.”

“Exactly. Now I am going for a fucking nap, to clear this headache.” He pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Stop fucking drinking like you are trying to keep up with the youngsters,” I jest with him, clapping him on the shoulder.

“Fuck off—” he shrugs me off “—I am only thirty-eight, two years older than you, brother. It is the tequila, it gets me every damn time.” He chuckles, and we leave the room.

Racer goes to his part of the clubhouse that belongs to the president, and I meet the men at the bar.

Taking the empty stool, I watch as the prospect behind the bar brings cold beers to the brothers. Reid, the other prospect, is outside topping up my dogs’ water bowls. That is his job, thanks to my kids making him the dogs’ water boy, but he doesn’t mind, because he will do anything for my kids.

After today, I feel that we will be patching two new men into the club.

“You did good, brother,” is all I say. He knows what I mean, his eyes widened a fraction before he shuts it down, not showing what this means to him but he will when the time comes.