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“Ratchet, what the hell did you do with the torque wrench?” Man, it pisses me off when the tools are out of place. I need to finish this cylinder head rebuild so this beauty of a beast can move from the mechanical workshop to the custom build section. But right now, I want to punch Ratchet’s pearly whites as he dangles the wrench in front of my face.

“Come and get it, big boy.”

Ratchet is the other mechanic working here at the bike shop, though he deals primarily with the custom builds. Sparks and Elijah, the prospect, are placing bets on how long it will take for Ratchet to be on the floor with my hands around his neck. Ratchet isn’t small, matching my I’m six-foot-four height, but I have the muscle mass over him and the speed of a whippet. Plus, his age is going against him—he’s forty to my thirty-four.

“I’ll give you a head start, grandpa.”

I wipe my hands on my coveralls, which are tied at the waist, and charge after him. It only takes a few moments and I have him pinned to the floor, the torque wrench by my feet, laughing in his face. “You need to run faster, grandpa.” I smirk at him while he’s struggles to catch his breath with my hands around his neck.

“All right, all right, I’ll let you win this time,” Ratchet croaks. I get up, offer him my hand, and pull him to his feet.

“Stop gawking, prospect. There’s a floor to sweep and parts to de-grease.” I growl at a grinning prospect.

Elijah—Eli for short—groans, hands Sparks a twenty, and gets back to work. He’s a good lad. He’s prospected for nine months now and has more than proven his worth. When he first came and asked for a job, I gave him a chance, and he soon found he loved being around the brothers enough to prospect. That’s how I came to be his sponsor.

A smack round the back of my head jolts me out of my thoughts.

“I don’t pay you for daydreaming.” Raven, the club President, glares at me. If I didn’t know better, I’d believe he’s pissed.

“What’s up, Prez? To what do I owe the honor of the almighty gift of your presence? Tired of riding your desk? Need a proper job?” I smirk.

“Actually, it’s you who’s going to get an extra job. I need you to pick Ashley up from work this evening. Her heap of a car ain’t starting again, and I had to get up at five this morning to take her to work. Again! Greg is towing her car to the workshop in town, but they’re busy, so it won’t be done today.”

“Can’t she use one of the cages?”

“I’d let her, brother, but we don’t have one to spare right now. Zippy has one to get supplies, Ratchet has one to get bike parts this afternoon, and the other one is out of action. Only leaves one for you to pick Ashley up in. And I need it back by eight, so Rusty, Ferret, and Slender can make the security assessment the new bar in town asked for. Rusty’s hip is flaring up, and he struggles to walk, never mind ride his trike!”

“What time does she need picked up?” I don’t let my irk show, but the last thing I want to do is spend time with Ashley in a cage . . . or time with Ashley period.

“Thanks, Vegas. If you can get her at six, I’ll owe you one.” Raven throws the cage keys at me, which I catch with ease. “I’ll take your bike back for you.” I grab my keys and throw them over to him. Letting anyone else ride my baby gives me the creeps, but Raven is the Prez, so I can hardly say no.

It’s telling that he asked me and not Rusty, the Vice President. Lately, their relationship seems a little strained. Rusty is of the old generation, having joined under Stone, and finds it hard to keep his nose clean. Figuratively as much as literally. As Raven’s father’s right-hand man, he supported Raven when he first took over. Although, he never was thrilled with the club getting out of extortion and running girls and drugs.

I never agreed with running girls. It’s not something I’d want to get involved with. There are plenty of pimps out there, and we don’t need to be added to the list. I believe women deserve their own choices and should never be handled unwillingly.

The club girls are different. They give their services freely, occupying the brothers in exchange for free room and board at the clubhouse. They’re there because they want to be, not because they have no choice. Some aspire to become old ladies, but that almost never happens. No one wants an old lady who’s been fucked by all his brothers.

But there’s been grumbles lately from the girls about Rusty, that he’s rough with them. Might just keep my eye on him a little for now, and maybe speak to Slender, our Sergeant at Arms, and Pennywise, our Enforcer, if more complaints come to light. They can approach the girls about it then.

I don’t use the club girls. My tastes are too specific and my needs way too dark to inflict on the club girls. When the urge grabs me, I use my membership at Violets, a local member-only club, to cater to my needs. I don’t date, and I prefer to keep my hook-ups private.

Business and pleasure are best not mixed, in my opinion.

???

It’s five-thirty p.m. when I drop my tools and clean up. Just enough time to grab some food at Ally’s, the club-owned diner run by Sparks’s old lady, Ally. They’re high school sweethearts who have been inseparable for the past ten or so years. She runs a women-only MC—well, it’s more of a party club, but nevertheless, it takes commitment. I have deep respect for Ally. She lives life true to her motto: If you can’t beat them, join them. And whatever men can do, she can do better.

We call her ‘Rainbow’ because her hair color changes at least once a month, usually to yet another wild and bright color. Carrying a few extra pounds doesn’t take away from the beautiful person she is, inside and out. She and Sparks live over the diner, which means extra security for the diner and a short commute for Sparks, as it’s only a block down from the workshop.

Ally is a whizz in the kitchen and the best manager we’ve ever had. We can count ourselves lucky to have her. Ally’s is renowned for its great food and sassy service, and it’s always packed with customers. We have a reserved Souls booth, which is never used by other patrons, so finding a seat is easy. I walk in, throw Ally a grin, and take a seat. She saunters over.

“Hey, Vegas, what can I get you? The usual?”

“Hi, Rainbow. I see it’s sunshine yellow today.” I point to her yet again changed hair color—a blinding bright yellow. Smirking at her, I pull my shades out and put them on, which earns me a slap round the back of my head, drawing a chuckle from me.

“Can I have the double stacked with fries and coffee please, sweetheart?”

“Sure, for you? Anything!” She smiles, giving me a middle finger wave, then turns and goes behind the counter to ready my order. Ally has sass in spades, which is one reason we all love her so much. She takes no crap from anyone, is straight to the point, and stands up for herself.

I look at my cell while waiting for my food. There’s a message from Violets with an updated events calendar, but nothing else. My stomach growls as Ally brings the food. The smell is just amazing. She knows me so well, she even put some onion rings on my plate.

“Thanks, darlin’.”

I tuck in and groan with pleasure as the juices from the burger hit my taste buds.

My phone alarm goes off at five-fifty p.m. Just about managing to finish my feast, I get up, grab my keys, and wave to Ally on the way out.

Here we go. One white knight in a black truck to the rescue of the club princess coming right up! Sarcasm is my middle name.

???

I pull into the parking lot and see Ash waiting at the bottom of the stairs, chatting with another girl. Well, she’s more woman than girl. I’ve not met her before, but she seems older than Ash. She’s short and plump, and her long, curly red hair and fire engine red glasses make her stand out even more. Not what I’d call subtle. She and Ash have their heads together, chatting.

Might as well get this over with . I jump out, walk around to the passenger side, open her door, and growl. “Get in, I haven’t got all night.”

Red’s mouth drops open as she shoots me an evil look. Ashley climbs in the truck, and I shut the door, making my way back to the driver’s side. When Ashley winds down the window, I can just hear Red saying, “Rude or what?”

I smirk. Was I rude? Sure, but that will keep conversation to a minimum. I stop listening, put the truck in reverse, and get the hell out of Dodge. I need to get her highness home, swap this cage for my bike, and ride home. Home, not the clubhouse, but my home.