“Uh…Cameron…” she sniffled.
A pang set in my chest. Why was she crying? What did she do now? “What’s wrong? Is Annie all right?”
The sniffling turned into whimpers.
“What the fuck?! Where is she?!”
“I don’t know. She… I didn’t see her coming home last night, and I couldn’t find her in her room this morning either. I called her right before I called you. She isn’t picking up.”
“What the fuck, Sylvia? I called her yesterday afternoon and she was going to get ice-cream with her girlfriends and assured me she was going straight home right after. How could you not notice she was late or didn’t come home at all?”
“I thought she was gonna stay over with her friends or something, but…”
Blood pounded my skull. “But what?!”
“The neighbors said they last saw her yesterday,” she cried.
Tears sprung to my eyes, too. “Where?”
“On the bike of a big, blond Night Skull.”
The phone slipped from my hand as I crumbled on the bed, breaking in gasping sobs.
“Cam? Cam?!” Chelsea’s voice came from a distance, as if under water, yet her hands were rubbing my shoulders and face. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
Head spinning, I managed to look at her. “The Night Skulls took my little sister.”
CHAPTER 2
Dusty
My bike, I missed. This, not so much.
Wasted, old, hairy-ass men fucking like hogs in our front yard in the name of yet another club party was the last thing I wanted to come home to. I should have gotten used to it by now, born and raised in Rosewood, the estate on East Bay hills in San Francisco where the Night Skulls MC reigned, where my father was the king of this mayhem I’d soon inherit or, at least, help run. But nothing, not even the sight of the sweetbutts sauntering naked and horny, ripe for the taking, would ease the sight of the brothers’ sweaty balls slamming pussy while their wrinkly asses welcomed me home.
“The prodigal son returns!”
All eyes were on me as I stood by the gate, and the brothers howled over death metal music, spilling beers and bodily fluids. I didn’t know who announced my arrival. It was too loud to recognize the voice, but it wasn’t Dad’s. Roar was nowhere to be spotted in this orgy. It was probably Rush, the VP.
In no time, brothers and bitches swarmed around me, a prospect took my backpack to put it in my room, and a beer found its way into my fist.
“How’s Europe?” one of the bitches wearing only shorts asked, flinging her hair to show me more of her than what was already on display. “Do they throw nice parties like ours?”
“What about the girls? Prettier?” another one asked. She was shorter and curvier, blonde like the first but still had her bra on. No shorts, though. Only a G-string.
The Night Skulls shared the same lifestyle, taste and business around the globe. There were nights when the club whores were into some kinky shit I didn’t even know about. It was exciting at first, getting laid, being treated like a king and learning something new in bed every day, but after some time, things started to look so similar, usual, even sweetbutts. After a while of partying and fucking every day, they all looked the same.
I wasn’t complaining, though. I might have been fidgeting when it came to the club…business and how it was run when I patched in after I finished high school. The bars, the gambling, even the drugs were okay for me. But not the pussy. Definitely not the killings.
Selling bitches and getting rid of anyone who dared be in the Night Skulls’ way, in Roar’s way, was just too much. I was raised in hell. That didn’t mean I was necessarily a devil.
Roar felt my hesitation, so he sent me on a trip to Europe where the Night Skulls had other chapters to understand how important and big we were. To believe that the killings were a necessity and the pussy was a fun, easy way to make cash.
After spending the summer traveling around Europe, visiting the global chapters and partying like my life depended on it, I loosened up a lot. For a nineteen-year-old traveling the world, bitches throwing themselves at him just to win him over, an endless supply of booze and drugs at his disposal, meant everything.
I came home, ready to embrace my patch again.
“Girls, this ain’t the night for chatting. Get your mouths busy doing what you do best.” Doc, an ex-military doctor in his forties, and my best friend and favorite brother, winked at me. “Take them and have some fun in the back before Mama sees you. If she gets here, you won’t have a moment for yourself all night, and she’ll feed you all the food she’s been making all day.”
