Biker's Virgin MC Box Set Page 6

  “Of course not,” Devon said. “We vote in our president.”

  “Really?” I asked. “So everyone chose Zack?”

  “Yes,” Devon nodded.

  “Why?”

  Devon smiled. “You don’t think much of him, do you?”

  “I think he’s a bully,” I said, keeping the rest of my opinions about Zack to myself. “I don’t like bullies.”

  “He kind of has to be a bully,” Devon said. “He has to maintain a façade of strength and power. No one respects an MC leader people can mess with. Zack was raised on this lifestyle, but when he was a teenager, he had a falling out with his father, and he left for a time. This was before I joined up, so I’ve heard this story from older members who’ve been here longer.

  “When he was in his early twenties, he showed up again and apparently when he walked into this very clubhouse, his father kicked him out. He had to earn his way back into the inner circle. He had to start at the bottom, become a pledge, and earn his patches. Everyone assumes that because he was John’s son, it came easy for him, but that’s not true.

  “Zack was still trying to earn back his patches when I became a pledge myself. I watched him go through all sorts of shit, and his own father orchestrated most of it. But he didn’t complain or fight back. He took the shit and kept working until he had won back his father’s respect and trust. And in the process, he won everyone’s respect… including mine.”

  “What happened between Zack and his father that caused him to leave?” I asked.

  “No one knows,” Devon replied. “John never spoke about it, and neither does Zack. Whatever it was… they put it behind them when Zack came back. After the turf war blew up, and we lost John, the decision was unanimous… everyone felt that Zack was the most capable among us and he deserved to be president. There was something poetic about that moment.”

  “What started the turf war?” I asked. “Was it just about territory?”

  Devon smiled. “It’s never just about territory,” he said. “The truth is that Godwin and John had an old feud brewing between them that went back decades. Both were ambitious young men, and both were part of strong rival MC gangs. The Lucifer’s Knights grew in size and strength though, while John chose to keep his crew smaller.”

  “Why?”

  “He claimed that it fostered stronger relationships; he was looking to establish familial ties with his men,” Devon explained. “His reasoning was that strength in numbers couldn’t compare to loyalty and trust. He knew every single one of his men, and he was certain of their loyalty. Godwin couldn’t say the same. He was betrayed by quite a few of his men. Really, that was the genesis of the fight that ended up killing John.

  “Godwin was deeply enmeshed in the black market—guns, drugs, and prostitutes. He was minting in money, and his attention was split. The cops were trying to make headway with the case, and they offered a huge payoff that included amnesty to anyone who came forward with information.”

  “It worked?”

  “Of course,” Devon nodded. “Not only was the payoff tempting to many of his men, but his crew had deteriorated from a brotherhood into a cartel. Terry Fletcher decided that the payout was worth the risk, and he decided to inform against the Knights. The problem is, he approached a cop who was being paid by Godwin. Two days later, his burned and broken body was found dumped in a lake in the middle of nowhere.”

  “Fuck,” I breathed.

  “The murder was linked to the Knights, but nothing could be proved. They had covered their tracks well, but they also had to pare back on their drug deals to avoid being caught since the cops were on high alert. Godwin took a major hit, and I don’t think he’s ever really recovered from it.”

  “I’m confused,” I said. “I don’t understand how the Fallen Angels got involved.”

  “Terry Fletcher had a brother who was also a member of the Knights,” Devon continued. “Godwin was convinced that the brothers were in it together. He tried to kill Tony, but somehow Tony managed to get away. That started a full-scale manhunt that led right to our doorstep.”

  I raised my eyebrows in disbelief. “You’re saying…”

  “John took in Tony,” Devon nodded.

  “Isn’t that… wasn’t that a stupid move?” I asked.

  “Depends on how you look at it,” Devon said. “At the time, everyone thought it was stupid to get involved, but John was making a point. He looked after his men, where Godwin hunted his down.”

  “Tony wasn’t one of his men.”

  “But he took him in,” Devon said. “The cops were not going to involve themselves in outlaw squabbles; if one of us got in trouble, who could we turn to? It was a strong message, and John got his point across. Godwin’s men left him in big numbers. They just disappeared on their motorbikes, and suddenly, Godwin wasn’t as powerful as he had once been.”

  “What happened after that?” I asked.

  “It was a challenge,” Devon continued. “And Godwin needed to meet it or risk losing his remaining men. The fight was inevitable. John and Godwin had it out for one another. We were more evenly matched now that half of Godwin’s strength had left him, but the Knights still outnumbered the Angels. Everything came to a head by Thurston Bridge.”

  “Thurston Bridge?” I repeated. “That old abandoned spot that nobody ever passes through?”

  “That’s the one,” Devon nodded. “The fighting only stopped because Godwin was cornered, and John was severely injured. The truce was agreed in the aftermath only because Zack wanted to get the hell out of there to treat his father’s wounds, but—”

  “He died…” I whispered.

  “John died,” Devon nodded. “Godwin’s son died in the fight too. Zack was voted in as president, and the shaky truce between the Angels and the Knights remained.”

  Devon paused for a second, and he looked a little uncertain. “What?” I asked. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  Devon sighed. “Well, part of the conditions to the truce was that we stay out of each other’s business,” he explained. “Meaning the Fallen Angels don’t go after any of the Knights and vice versa.”

  “So are you saying that if Walter is connected to the Knights… I might have restarted this feud?”

  Devon dropped his eyes from my face and suddenly became very interested in his shoes.

  “Devon?” I asked.

  “This was inevitable,” Devon told me. “Each side was looking for a reason to break the truce.”

  “And I’ve just given everyone the reason they were looking for,” I breathed.

  Devon sighed. “Time will tell.”

  Chapter 9

  Zack

  “Who’s the informant?” I asked.

  “Fred Gallagher,” Devon replied, as he got into the passenger’s seat.

  “Seriously?”

  “He was the only one who came forward and was willing to meet you.”

  “He’s unreliable,” I scoffed. “And that sorry excuse of a bar he runs is a front.”

  “I’m aware, but he wants to talk to you,” Devon said. “What was I supposed to do? And we have to start somewhere.”

  “Where are we meeting?” I asked.

  “Where else?”

  “Fuck,” I rolled my eyes, as I started driving in the direction of the Horse’s Ass.

  “So… how’s training going with Mila?” Devon asked.

  I didn’t take my eyes off the road. “Fine,” I said, shortly.

  “I’ve noticed that you’ve been riding her a bit hard.”

  “Not as hard as I would like,” I replied suggestively.

  I saw Devon’s eyes flash, and his tone hardened as he spoke. “She’s been through some shit, man,” he said. “You might want to take that into consideration when—”

  “When what?”

  “When you’re messing with her,” Devon finished.

  “What makes you think I’m messing with her?” I asked.

  “Come on,” Devon said.
“I’ve seen the way you look at Mila. It’s obvious every time you’re in the same room as she is.”

  “What’s obvious?” I said defensively.

  Devon refused to answer my question. “She’s not your type in any case.”

  “Oh, and you know my type, do you?” I asked.

  “All I know is that Mila’s not it,” Devon said. “She’s sensitive…and innocent.”

  “I don’t know if she would appreciate you saying that about her.”

  “Probably not,” Devon agreed. “Doesn’t make it any less true.”

  “What do you even know about Mila?” I asked. “Before this whole thing went down, you were practically strangers.”

  Devon was quiet for a long time. “True, but she’s still my sister. And she came to me when she needed help. So I’m going to help her.”

  “That’s what I’m trying to do too,” I pointed out.

  “Is it?” Devon asked, turning to me. “Or are you just trying to settle an old score?”

  I gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. “Godwin is a dangerous man—”

  “I’m aware,” Devon nodded. “But we also don’t know for sure if his men are tied up in this. Walter Black could be some random loser with anger issues. Just because he’s a psychopath doesn’t mean he’s a part of Godwin’s crew.”

  “I think he is.”

  “No, you want him to be,” Devon said. “So you’ll have an excuse to hit at Godwin after all this time. Admit it.”

  “First, we’ll find Walter Black,” I said. “Then we’ll find out once and for all if he’s just a lone agent working on his own or if he has ties to Godwin.”

  “And if he doesn’t?” Devon asked.

  “Then the truce will stay intact,” I said, even though it pained me to say it. “And nobody will have to worry about another faceoff with the Knights.”

  Devon looked unsure, but he didn’t push the subject. I didn’t tell him that my desires were secondary to my instincts, and my instincts were telling me that this Walter Black knew what he was doing. And the only reason he was so cocky about it was because he had backing… powerful backing.

  When we finally pulled up to the Horse’s Ass, it was almost eleven o’clock, but the bar looked dead. Despite the music and muted lighting, there didn’t seem to be many people there. When Devon and I walked in, there was one lonely man at the bar, sitting in front of the bartender, and a couple of guys sitting at a table across from the bar.

  Devon went up to the bartender and ordered a couple of beers. “Tell Gallagher we’re here to talk,” he said.

  The large, beefy bartender nodded, then disappeared through the back, while Devon and I sat down in one corner of the bar that was shrouded in darkness.

  “He approached you?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” Devon nodded. “I was talking to a couple of guys in here the other night, and he came up to me and said he wanted to meet with you.”

  “Did he say what about?”

  “No,” Devon said, shaking his head. “Just that it was connected to this Walter Black guy that we were looking for.”

  “Good,” I said, growing a little hopeful.

  For a second, I wondered what would happen once we found Black and managed to get rid of him. Mila would certainly have no reason to stay with us in the clubhouse. I was surprised by how conflicted my feelings were about that. Was it possible that I actually liked having her around? I had never been the kind of guy who stuck to a woman. I had never been the kind of guy to remain preoccupied with a woman. So it was unsettling to me that Mila still managed to remain at the forefront of my thoughts.

  I glanced at Devon drinking his beer. I could understand why he didn’t want me near his sister, but the fact remained that my desire for her only seemed to grow with each passing day. Maybe it wasn’t about Mila at all. Maybe the fact that she was resisting me was the real allure. That explanation sat well with me, and I decided that that was all it was. I didn’t have feelings for Mila. I was just after the thrill of the chase. Once she gave in and allowed me to fuck her, my preoccupation would her would cease. At least that was what I hoped.

  “He’s coming,” Devon told me.

  A moment later, Fred Gallagher appeared at our table. He was a tall man who looked as dodgy as his bar. He had misty eyes, a pointed nose, and a wispy facial hair that he refused to cut. He pulled up a chair, turned it around, and straddled it.

  “Hello, boys,” he said, with an insipid smile. “What brings you two to my neck of the woods?”

  “You said you wanted to speak to Zack,” Devon said impatiently. “Well, he’s here, so speak.”

  Fred turned to me. “You look more and more like your old man every day.”

  “I didn’t come here to exchange small talk, Fred,” I said. “You have something to say to me?”

  “I hear you been looking for some guy,” he said, leaning in.

  “The name’s Walter Black,” I said. “Do you have any idea who he is?”

  “Someone you don’t want to mess with,” Fred said, giving me a look that I assumed was meant to be a warning.

  “Is that a fact?” I asked uncaringly.

  “There’s been rumors and shit floating around… The Angels are throwing their weight around, trying to stir up shit.”

  “We’re not stirring up anything,” I said. “We’re just trying to find this guy.”

  “Why?”

  “I just want to have a conversation with the man,” I said with a shrug. “That’s all.”

  “About what?”

  “That’s my fucking business,” I said through gritted teeth.

  “Sounds like you’re messing with someone else’s business…”

  I exchanged a look with Devon. “Is there someone in particular you’re talking about?” I asked.

  Fred gave me a seedy smile. “People aren’t going to tolerate your lot throwing their weight around.”

  “Are you speaking for someone?” I asked.

  “I’m just saying—”

  “Sounds to me like you’re someone’s little lapdog,” I said. “Actually, no… ore like you’re someone’s little bitch.”

  Fred’s smile dropped immediately, and his cheeks went scarlet with anger. Then he stood up all of a sudden and looked down at me threateningly. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”

  I took a calm sip of my beer and stood up. I was around the same height as Fred, but I was a hell of a lot bigger. Fred seemed to notice that too because I saw his Adam’s apple move up and down in a noticeable gulp. Still, he didn’t want to back down now. He wanted to at least make an attempt to show me he wasn’t scared of me. I felt Devon just behind me, waiting to provide back up if I needed it. The bartender was looking at us carefully, and the three other men in the bar had stopped drinking too.

  “I’m the fucking head of the Fallen Angels,” I said, taking a threatening step towards Fred. “Who are you, and who have you been bought by?”

  “I… No one has bought me,” Fred replied, stumbling over his denial so fervently that it was basically an admission of guilt.

  “Really?” I whispered to him. “Because it seems like Godwin’s a little scared… Now, why would he be scared of me, huh?”

  “Get out of my bar,” Fred said, trying to maintain a façade of fearlessness.

  I smiled. “I’ll leave when I’m good and ready—”

  I don’t know what possessed him. The man obviously had no skill, but apparently, he thought he might have a chance if he took me by surprise. He lunged at me suddenly; his fist made a whooshing sound as it hit when I moved my head to the side. I didn’t hesitate. In the next second, I had grabbed his arm and pulled it back, locking it behind him so that he couldn’t move. He struggled a little, and out of pity I let him go. But the moment he turned to face me, I sent a clean punch right at his face, and he hit the ground with a satisfying groan.

  I could see blood gush from his face, and I knew I had broken his nose. I took a step t
owards him, and he tried to sidle away from me, clutching his nose in a panic. Everyone in the bar had frozen, even his bartender, who didn’t look like he was inclined to come to his boss’s defense. That was a smart move in my opinion.

  I bent to the ground where Fred lay simpering. “Make sure you make some noise about this, Freddy,” I said. “And make sure you let everyone know that whoever Walter Black is… we’re coming for him. And I’ll leave him with far worse than a broken nose.”

  Then I stood up and nodded to Devon. “Our business here is done; let’s go.”

  We headed out of the bar, and the moment we were back in the car, Devon sighed deeply. “Fuck.”

  “Did that convince you?” I asked.

  “Do you think Walter Black is an alias?” Devon asked.

  “Definitely.”

  “For Godwin?”

  “It can’t be,” I said. “Mila described the guy, and she placed him at around our age. It can’t be Godwin. But it’s definitely someone connected to him, and it’s definitely someone protected by him.”

  Devon shook his head. “Fuck,” he repeated.

  Chapter 10

  Mila

  “Hi, Lonny,” I greeted as I made my way through the living room.

  “Hey, Mila,” he greeted, as he looked over my sweatpants and workout bra. “Are you training today?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Fuck… it’s Sunday.”

  I smiled. “I need to practice.”

  “You actually sound like you’re looking forward to training.”

  “Maybe I am,” I said, giving him a wink.

  “Fuck… how did he manage to convert you?” Lonny asked.

  I shot him a glare and refused to answer. “Lonny?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Do you have someone… a partner or a wife?”

  Lonny smiled. “Why do you ask?”

  “I’m just curious,” I admitted. “I haven’t seen any women around here, and I was just wondering how that works, especially if you have families at home waiting for you.”

  “I’ve got a wife and two kids at home… boys. Their names are Langdon and Kyle,” Lonny told me.