ROUGHNECK: A DARK MOTORCYCLE CLUB ROMANCE (2 page)

He fanned his jacket out and twirled in a drunken circle, much to the amusement of the real bikers. They hooted and hollered as he hammed it up. Once a clown, always a clown.

“Relax and get a drink,” he said. “You’ll be safe here.”

“We leave. Now.” I said through clenched teeth. “If you want to push me, I’ll make sure your probation officer knows what you’ve been up to.”

I wanted to grab him. Grab him and shake him so hard the chains hanging from his back pocket would jingle like Christmas bells.
Most people would have to work hard at being such a jerk. To him it came naturally.

“Listen,” I continued, “the court says you stay at my house. That’s one of your conditions for the next six months and I’m not about to jeopardize my chance at a nursing license because you’re too damn dumb to know when enough is enough. I’m supposed to report it if you’re not following the rules. I’m not letting you get me in trouble.”

“Easy, Kitten. The kid’s just havin’ a good time.”

The strong, smooth voice cut through the noise like a knife.

How he managed to avoid my radar and sidle up next to me unnoticed would have to be a question for another day. The self-righteous vibe I felt from across the room seemed to increase ten-fold when he stepped into my personal space.

“Excuse me, but I’m talking to my brother,” I said, a shiver running up my spine as I glanced over at him. He was even
better
up close…

“Well,
excuse me
,” he said, “but if your brother keeps his head down and follows orders, then one day he’ll be my brother, too.”

First he eye-fucks me with no shame, now he’s jumping into the middle of our private conversation? The audacity of the prick was enough to blow your hair back.

He turned his attention toward Jared.

“You’re not getting into any trouble over here, are you Ace?”

Jared sheepishly shrugged his shoulders. It was clear he felt the sting of another man stepping in to settle his argument.

“You see? He doesn’t mean any harm.”

The mystery man shifted his posture to claim more of the space between us. I wondered, for just a second, what he would do if I put my knee in his balls and told him to go fuck himself.

“Go on, Ace,” he said, “get yourself another beer.”

I was fuming.

“What’s with that name?” I asked. “And why is he wearing that goddamned jacket?”

The change in his face told me I’d made a mistake even before I heard the tone in his voice.

“Watch your tone when you talk about our
cut
,” he growled through clenched teeth of his own.

The way he said it made me feel hot and cold at the same time. Jared took a few cautious steps back. I tried to follow.

The heated biker grabbed my arm. His large hand nearly encircled my entire bicep just firm enough to let me know I wasn’t getting away. He pulled me close until I was on the tips of my toes. He supported more of my weight than I did, and he made it look effortless…

“I’m Hale Murphy. Civilians call me “Murph” but my people call me Roughneck. You could say I’m responsible for maintaining order around here, make sense?”

I nodded, trying not to let him feel me shake.

“So you can consider yourself in
my
house right now. In fact, anywhere those colors fly, you can consider that my house, too.”

The faint lines that showed in his face when he first grabbed me were gone. His muscles relaxed.

“And when you’re in my house, you have to show respect.”

I nodded again.

“Good. Now that you know where you are, don’t you go forgetting it again”

As soon as he loosened his grip, I pulled my arm free. When one foot caught on the other I almost fell right on my butt. It took a flailing grab for one of the sluttier looking girls behind me to stay upright. He tried to choke back a laugh but I didn’t miss it.

“The kid can stay,” he said calmly. “He’s about to become family.”

Who the hell was he to tell me that?

I looked around the room. There was a more sinister feel to it now. The gravity of the situation certainly wasn’t lost on me.

These were dangerous people.

I won’t lose my brother to them.

Hale didn’t take his eyes off of me. I wasn’t going to call him Roughneck, or Murph, or whatever, just like I wasn’t going to call my brother Ace.

I returned a glare that all but said “I’m not scared of you.”

Even though I was. I was terrified. Not just at what this man represented… But also at how my body had reacted to his touch. I wasn’t going to let him take any satisfaction in my defeat, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to tell him how he made me feel!

I spun on my heel and headed for the door.

I had to think of something.

I wouldn’t let them take my brother.

“
S
hit
, Prez… you’re gonna roll your own tobacco until the day you die, aren’t you?”

His stained fingers worked with the precision only thirty years of practice could offer. Sometimes when I watched him, I wondered if he had these same conversations with my old man before he died.

“It’s the only way to do it,” he said, jamming the tightly rolled cigarette into the corner of his mouth.

He raised his eyebrows, expectantly.

I pulled the stainless steel zippo from my front pocket and flicked it open with the edge of my thumb.

“Why do you always have that thing on you anyway?” he asked. “Haven’t ever seen you smoke so much as a butt and you’ve been around here since before you could talk.”

I leaned forward with an outstretched arm and watched as the end of his smoke touched the flame and ignited.

“Pops told me when I was a kid, ‘never leave home without your knife and your lighter.’”

The president stroked his greying beard with the back of his free hand.

“He said a good man always carries both. I guess it just became a habit,” I said.

He seemed to mull that over in his brain as he inhaled. For a second it looked like he was gonna say something about the old man, but he waved the thought away along with the cloud of smoke in front of him.

“So, Roughneck, what about that other shit you came in here talkin’ about?” he asked.

I knew I’d gotten his attention as soon as I brought it up. When you didn’t usually say much, people tended to take notice when you pipe up.

“Prez, you know I wouldn’t bother with this unless I thought it was real.”

“I know,” he said, making an impatient rolling motion with his hand.

“Out with it.”

“Alright. Thing is, I’ve been hearing some rumblings that some of the boys are unhappy.”

“Yeah?” he asked. “And why the fuck should I care about that?”

“Lead, follow, or get out of the way. I’m with you prez…” I tilted my head to my chest to help loosen the muscles in the back of my neck.

“But this is about money,” I continued, “and when people start thinkin’ about money, they do dumb shit.”

“Sly again?” he asked.

Sly was the club’s treasurer. Had been since longer than most of us could remember. My old man always called him a sneaky son of a bitch and I could say I never liked the piece of shit much either… Love him or hate him, Sly knew his way around numbers and he made sure the club looked legit on paper. Didn’t stop him from trying to get the club into some bad shit from time to time.

“Damn straight,” I said. “He’s pushin’ the coke again. He’s also gettin’ the crew all riled up about it bein’ the way to bring us some
real
money.”

“Drugs…” he trailed off, shaking his head. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell the hard-headed bastard that this isn’t the time. The DEA has been all up in everybody’s shit for over a year. You can’t move drugs right now without taking on too much risk.”

“Well, I can tell you this much… it still hasn’t gotten through to him,” I said.

“Runnin’ the clubs. That’s what were doin’. Runnin’ the clubs and takin’ protection money. That’s what’s going to keep us riding until this shit blows over,” he said.

I settled back against the side of the building, giving him a minute to think. These kinds of conversations were always held outdoors and face-to-face. Always in a familiar place and never in earshot of the uninitiated.

“I’ll talk to him again,” he said, finally.

“Clancy,” I stopped him short. It was probably the first time in my entire life that I’d used his given name. “With all due respect, I don’t think this is a ‘talk to him’ kind of situation. He’s made up his mind and he’s already doin’ what he wants to do.”

He shook his head again. “The man’s a fuckin’ pain in my ass, but he’s a lifer. Don’t worry ‘neck, when I put it to him, he’ll fall back in line.”

“I got a bad feeling, that’s all,” I said. “Word around the campfire is guys are already starting to choose sides in case there’s some kind of play for your spot.”

He stood tall. Despite his advancing age, his back remained as straight as an arrow.

“Not anything you have to worry about right now. I’ll play it close.”

With a solemn nod he walked off, leaving me to ponder the situation on my own.

I wondered if his eyes were too old to see it, or if he just didn’t want to believe. There was definitely some devious shit going on. For the most part we were solid. I knew I could trust our VP with my life. He’d always been loyal. And most men wearing the patch were strong.

Sly was a tricky motherfucker though… Ever since his kid Robby joined up, things had started to get a little more divisive. It wasn’t long after he got his patch that I started to see the same guys hanging around each other all the time. They’d talk low and be quick to shut their mouths or change the subject when someone who wasn’t one of them walked by.

They called Robby “Dirty.” From what I could gather he’d done everything in his power to earn the name. Rumor was he killed a couple of state’s witnesses back east on one of his first jobs.

The witnesses, an older couple, were supposed to testify in a racketeering case that might’ve sent a member from our OG chapter away for a long time. Dirty was just supposed to scare them, but shit went sideways. To hear him tell it, he didn’t have any choice… I knew the truth. I’d spent long enough enforcing for this club to spot a damn lie. He
made
the choice… And he’d enjoyed it.

He was a twisted son of a bitch, but there wasn’t much I could do about it. I was just waiting for him to cross me just so I’d have a reason to knock his teeth down his fuckin’ throat.

Anyway, if Sly and his bat shit crazy son weren’t plotting something big, then I didn’t deserve to wear the patch for having such a bad bullshit detector. But I’d be willing to bet my heart I’m right.

There was a low rumble coming off the highway. Probably the first of what would be a steady stream of bikers rolling into the clubhouse. It was late in the afternoon when the first guys usually started to stumble in.

I held my hand out in front of my face to block the sun. It was the new prospect from out in the county. The one that told everybody to call him “Ace.” Normally when you tried to pick your own name the old timers would laugh in your face and then you’d end being called something like “dog breath” or “puke.” But somehow this kid was getting it to stick.

He pulled his ride in and brought it to an idle at the far corner of the lot. He handled the bike well. Most of the young guys these days would fuck with their muffler to make it louder and come in here rolling the throttle like an asshole. They were obsessed with chrome and noise, dressing their bikes up with fancy shit like it was their fucking prom date.

I hated that.

These hogs were meant to be used as tools. They were for getting shit done, not for decorating. This kid did none of that. He rode smart, handled his own maintenance, and he kept his bike stock. Maybe it was the reason I liked him.

“Afternoon, Roughneck!” he said, enthusiastically.

Goofy son of a bitch.

“The fuck is all over your face?” I asked, enjoying the opportunity to think about anything else.

He rubbed his chin.

“My beard? Are you talking about my beard?”

“Beard?” I looked around the lot for anyone else who could share in my disbelief. Old man Tony was the only other one out this early. He had his rag in hand, ready to polish bikes for a few bucks.

“You hear that Tony?” I yelled. “The kid says he’s growing a beard.”

Tony craned his neck to take a look.

“That’s a beard? I just assumed he’d been eatin’ some dirt.”

It was the first time I’d laughed in what felt like centuries.

“Aw, shit,” said the kid. “Give it a few months. I’ll have it looking good.”

“Whatever. Come over here. I want to talk to you.”

He strapped his helmet to the seatback and made his way over. Normally, I’d grill him for information about the hot piece of ass he called his sister. There was no honor among thieves when it came to women around these parts… especially when it came to prospects. Hell, it wouldn’t be uncommon for a prospect to hear all about how a patcher would like to fuck his wife or his mother or any other important female in his life. Part of being a prospect meant you had to sit there and take that kind of stuff.

But I’d get my information later. There were more pressing matters to discuss.

“What’s up?” he asked, straightening his jacket. He couldn’t seem to stop fucking with the thing.

“Sit down,” I instructed. He dragged an overturned bucket from around the corner and planted himself next to me.

“I want to know something, and you damn well better be honest with me.”

He nodded in agreement.

“Have you heard any of the fellas talking about anything… let’s say… unusual?”

“Like what?”

“Like the kind of thing a man like me would be pissed off to hear about.”

There was a slight hesitation before he answered but it wasn’t enough to call him on.

“Nuh uh,” he said. “Nothing that comes to mind.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure. Why?”

“You leave the ‘why?’ to me. Don’t ask about shit you don’t need to know about.”

He pushed his hands out in front of him in compliance.

“I got it. No dumb questions.”

“Good.”

I took a deep breath, shifting my weight against the building. The image of the girl danced back into my head. I decided to spare the kid from the sordid details of what I wanted to do to his sister, but that didn’t mean I was going to let her be.

Truth is, when she wandered in that night, she put a stranglehold on my attention. Whether she knew it or not, she walked right into my world and that was a dangerous place for any female to be. Especially one with perfect tits and the face of an angel.

Something about the way she walked through that crowd had my dick jumping to attention. Normally I could shake the memory of a beautiful girl. Sometimes, I had to fuck it out of my system. Something told me she was going to be different.

“So… What’s her name?”

The kid paused. “Who?”

“Your sister. What’s her name?”

“Adeline,” he said finally, kicking at an empty can on the ground in front of him. “But she won’t come around here again. She hates bikers.”

Adeline
. I like it.

“I’m gonna go inside. That okay, Roughneck?”

“In a minute. There’s something else.”

“I don’t know man… like I said, she doesn’t really dig bikers. I mean, I could ask but…”

“Not that, dumbass. I don’t need you to ask about a damn thing. Got it?”

Another silent nod.

“I want you to steer clear of Sly and Dirty for a while.”

“Steer clear? You mean avoid them?”

“Not exactly. But I want you to keep your contact with them to a minimum.”

“Damn, Roughneck, I don’t know if I’m gonna be able to do that. Any man wearing the patch… I have to do what he tells me.”

I tried to rub away the headache that was quickly forming behind my eyes. Maybe there was another way to explain it to him.

“Yeah, you do, but I don’t think you’re hearing me. All I’m saying is that you need to think about what you’re doing. If something doesn’t seem right, then it probably isn’t. So if either one of them needs you for a job, you run it by me first. Easy, right?”

“I guess so.”

“No ‘guessing.’ Just don’t get yourself wrapped up in any shit you don’t need to. If you hear Sly, or Dirty, or any other asshole talking about drugs, I want you to come tell me.”

The way his eyes shifted gave me the idea that he knew more than he was letting on.

“I’m trying to mind my own business, and that’s it,” he said. “If somebody else is doing something, it’s not up to me to drop a dime on ‘em.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. It is up to you. Because if I find out later that you knew something and didn’t tell me…”

His muscles tensed.

“It’s important. It doesn’t make you a damn snitch either, if that’s what you’re worried about. That’s part of the life. We have to keep an eye on each other so a stupid mistake doesn’t fuck it up for the whole club. That’s my job in this club, and I want you to know that I’m fucking good at my job… You got it?”

“Yeah. Got it.”

I didn’t believe him for a second. Why was I wasting my time with the little bastard if he didn’t want to respect it? Maybe I’d been wrong to take a liking to him after all…

“Go inside,” I said, tersely.

He jumped off that bucket and made a beeline for the front of the clubhouse. The hurried way he moved made me wonder just how deep Sly’s influence reached.