The Run (The Hell's Disciples MC Book 4) (16 page)

For one long year I was a nomad. I turned over my Sergeant at Arms patch, picked up my shit, and hit the road. I lived on the run for a while with no place to settle ... no home. It was just my bike, the road, and myself. I would swing through different clubs, crash on a brother’s couch, and drop through to my pops’ place to visit. Hell, I’d throw my bedroll down and sleep in the fucking woods if I needed to.

I know what it’s like to need to run.

“Yeah, I feel ya.”

Back at the club, we regroup and get our shit ready for this weekend, which from the sounds of it, is going to be out of fucking control, which is nothing new.

“Think we got enough booze?” Dan asks. He’s stressing himself out.

“Shipping container is full, man. Think we got enough,” I assure him.

“Rooms?” Jesus, he’s going to give himself a fucking stroke if he doesn’t chill the fuck out. Of course we don’t have enough damn rooms.

“Nah.” Laughing, he nods. There’s no goddamn way we’ve got enough rooms, but we’ll make space, we always do. Tents, campers, bedrolls. Hell, even pool lounging chairs will house the overflow.

“Least three hundred people comin’.” He speculates, sipping on a beer as he surveys the bar. I suspect more will be here, but I’m not about to worry the man more.

“Good thing we got acres, brother.”

Looking over my shoulder, I catch Lennon shooting pool with Rock. She’s laughing at him and that shit makes me real fucking happy. I’m glad she’s fitting in here. It could’ve been real bad if these asshole hated her. The brothers don’t take kindly to many people, especially strangers.

“She workin’ out?” Dan asks, noticing me watching her. It’s working out in more ways than one. I hate to fucking admit it, but I’m kinda growing attached to the broad. Watching Lennon bend over and take a shot, I suppress the groan working its way out, and the extreme dick adjustment needed just watching her fine ass. Goddamn it.

“She’s okay,” I tell him, shrugging like I don’t give a fuck, but I really give more of a fuck than I care to admit.

“Just okay? Not buyin’ your bullshit, kid.” Fuck, I hate when he calls me that. He might be twenty years older than me, but in biker years, that doesn’t mean a goddamn thing. We’ve all put in our time just the same.

“Yeah, old man. Lennon’s cool. We’re getting along fine.”

The front door smacks into the frame and I turn to see the cunt walking in like she owns the place, headed for the bar. Fuck me. I have no time to escape. Jess sees me and deviates course, heading right for me.

That itch to throw her out on her ass starts burning at my skin. The bitch deserves worse, but I know it’ll only piss Rock off, and that’s the last thing we need right now.

Glancing back over at Lennon, I find her still playing pool, oblivious to the world around her. She’s always so easily content. Jess sees me look at Lennon and frowns. Instead of coming at me now, she passes right on by, headed for Lennon. Not happening.  Grabbing onto her arm, I jerk her ass to a stop. She stumbles a little, but makes a show of it. “Hold up there.” Jess likes to cause trouble, always has, and I suspect she always will.

“What,” she snaps at me. She can throw all her bitchiness at me, because Lord knows I can take that shit, but she better keep it away from Lennon

“Where the fuck you think you’re goin’?” I know she’s trying to stir the pot and cause some damn drama. I swear to fuck the bitch was born mean. She feeds off drama. There’s not a nice bone in that stupid bitches body.

A slow ugly smile spreads across her factory made face. “Just wanna talk to your friend.” I’m sure she does.

“Yeah, not gonna happen, nosy ass.”

“Why?” She whines. She knows why. Lennon’s tough, crazy, wild, and sweet. Jess is just mean and fucking nasty. I don’t want Jess letting her ugly shit rub off on Lennon.

“Jess, I’m telling you now, you stay the fuck away from her. If you value your job and your cushy little life, you’ll leave Lennon the fuck alone. She isn’t any of your goddamn business.” I fucking hate the bitch and I want her as far away from Lennon as possible.

“She your girl now,” she spits. She read way more into that than necessary.

“She’s mine, and that’s all you need to know.”

“She’s your old lady!” Jess wails, causing a scene, jerking from my hold.

Everyone stops what they’re doing and looks at us. Lennon looks up from the pool table and stares curiously at me. “Is that why you stopped wearin’ your glasses?” she screams. “That bitch tell you to stop wearin’ them?” Wow, that was a jump. I swear there are a few screws loose in that head of hers, but she isn’t far off either.

Jess stops when she sees she’s right, then turns her attention back to Lennon. “Bitch, stay away from Buck.” Oh, you have got to be kidding me right now.

“Jess, you better pack that shit in,” I tell her tersely. I’m not in the mood for her shit.

“Fuck, you and her, Buck! You were mine first,” Jess cries. Yeah, I was. I was her ATM, her punching bag, her meal ticket, her room and board, and her fucking doormat, just to name a few.

Jess starts getting real crazy, screaming and accusing people of stupid shit. Lunging at Lennon, she screams, “I’m gonna fuck you up!” She wishes. Snatching her crazy up, I shove her ass at the door before she even gets close.

“Out!” I holler, pushing her through the door.

“Fuck you!”

“No thanks.” Been there, done that, and never doing it again.

Opening the door, I shove her crying, loud ass outside. “That was your one and only chance. There’ll be no more,” I tell her, looking at her mascara stained face.

“What are you thinking, Buck? We have history.” Nasty, scary, fucked up history.

“Last chance, Jess. Next time I won’t be nice about it. You and me? There was, is, and never will be shit between us. You’re just a stupid, fucked up bitch, and that’s all there is and ever will be of you.”

She starts to argue, but I shut her shit down. “Shut your mouth and get to gettin’.”

Turning back towards the door, I open it and stop. I know the sneaky bitch is already scheming. Looking back at her, I tell her, “I’m not playing or joking. You stay the fuck away from her, and I mean that.”

Letting the door slam shut behind me, I see everyone is back to whatever it was they were doing before Jess started acting like a cunt. Lennon’s still playing pool with Rock, back to smiling and laughing, while Poncho watches them. Tyler and Mossy are drinking at the bar, but Dan is staring at me with a smirk on his face.

Walking up to me, he nods, “Lennon is just okay, my ass,” he mutters. “She’s more than okay.”

“Fuck you.

Lennon

“That was fun,” I tell Buck as I sit down next to him at the bar. He has a beer in his hand and an unforgiving frown on his face.

“Yeah, a fucking ball,” he growls, fiddling with his beer cap. There’s a stiffness in his shoulders that wasn’t there earlier. Jess obviously stresses him out something fierce.

“She seemed really attached to you.” I state, choosing my words carefully. I get it. These guys usually aren’t tied down. I’ve seen men toss women out for less, but Buck was surprisingly tolerant of her, considering her level of crazy.

“She’s old news.”

“Oh.” I want to ask, but I don’t. First, my momma taught me to mind my own damn business when it comes to other people’s relationships, and second, I highly doubt he would even tell me. “She’s mad because I’m staying with you.” I don’t ask. I could tell that’s what that insane woman was on about. She’s jealous, not that there’s anything to be jealous over. Buck and I ... I’m not even sure if we’re friends.

“Babe, don’t worry about that bitch,” he says with all seriousness, turning on his stool to look at me. “I don’t want her conniving ass around you.” Okay, so maybe we are friends.

“Okay, Buck.” I’ll take his word for it. 

I ate my weight in tacos earlier and now we’re having drinks at the club, bar, motel, whatever it is, with all the guys after Jess’s shit show. Sitting around the old bar, I listen to them bullshit with each other, planning and plotting this party. It’s a big deal apparently—a huge deal.

Stories of past parties are told over beers, laughter, and some mild embarrassment as I listen in complete enjoyment. These guys are wild and so my kind of humans.

“I’m excited,” I tell no one in particular. No one is really talking to me, not that I’m being ignored, but I just can’t keep my mouth shut. All heads turn in my direction, beers halt mid-drink.

“Yeah?” Dan laughs, clearly not taking me seriously.

“I love parties,” I tell them. Big or small, I love ‘em all. The people, the possibilities, the fun.

“I don’t know, darlin’. This ain’t your normal kinda party,” Buck adds. Even better.

Cocking my head, I give Buck the stare down. “Do I strike you as not being able to handle myself at a “normal party?” Mulling it over, he gives me a once over, sizing me up.

“Nah.” That’s what I thought. I might be small, but I can throw down.

“I can hang.” I assure him. I’ve partied with the best of them. Pulled all-nighters, done naked keg stands, beer bonged, toked, and seen some shit that’d make Keith Richards blush.

“Yeah, you think so?” Buck laughs, enjoying giving me a hard time. He has no idea how much I can hang.

“When I was sixteen...” I launch into a scandalously gory story about my youth that makes even Buck cringe and laugh, a real hardy laugh. God, I love the sound.

“Yeah, darlin, you can party,” he concedes after my tale of youthful debauchery. His eyes light up, looking full of trouble.

Buck and his brothers wandered outside fifteen minutes ago, saying, “Shit to get done,” before heading for the door, but not before planting a beard-scratching kiss on my forehead. Weird but sweet, and so not a Buck thing to do. 

I’m sitting at the bar, munching on my fries when Tags sits himself next to me. Leaning an elbow on the bar top, he turns to me.

“How’s shit goin’ up here with the asshole?” So far, we’re both still alive. I haven’t killed him and he hasn’t strangled me.

I met Tags when I lived in Washington for a brief time, which now feels like eons ago. He’s a nice guy, always has been, and I suspect he always will be.

“Asshole, huh?” I joke. 

“Yup. Every club’s got one. We got a Rampage, and y’all got a Buck. Assholes,” he laughs. Buck is a tad bit of an asshole, but I’ve certainly met worse.

“Good. Everyone’s been nice to me.”

“Cool, babe. Glad shit’s workin’ out for ya here.” Me too.

“Oh, hell no.” A female voice screeches through the room turning both our heads in the direction of the door. Tags head sags and he grumbles, “Fuck.”

Twisting on my stool, I see a tall blonde bombshell, strutting into the room, heels clicking against the old floor.

Her eyes connect with mine and a grin spreads across her blood red lips. Oh Jesus, not another one.

“Hello,” she sings sweetly, walking right up to me and effectively ignoring the man next to me. Wearing a tiny black skirt and a pair of heels only a circus performer could manage, she sits down next to me, crossing her legs gracefully under the bar top.

“So your Buck’s woman,” she asks, flipping a piece of my hair over my shoulder playfully.