Page 2 of Marked By Myth

He was my last link to her.

“We good?” Menace asked, putting his phone back in his pocket. “Fang’s working on a new route as we speak and has the suppliers on the phone.”

“Let’s go,” I ordered, heading back to our bikes parked next to the van that Flash would be driving back. Empty.

Fuck this shit.

You didn’t steal from the Royal Bastards. Everyone knew that. If it was the Bloody Scorpions on our turf, fucking with our supply, then we’d be having a BBQ of corpses by month end.

That was a damn promise.

I peeled out of the parking lot of the shipyard, Menace and Destroyer on my flanks, and Flash in the van behind. Even though I was pissed, I was still grieving for my fallen friend…and in the back of my mind, wondering if she would come home for the funeral.

It had been fifteen years since she walked out on us. Fifteen long years I’d obsessed over her, wondering if she would ever come back.

She was a distraction.

One a MC prez didn’t need, but damn did I want her back in my bed, on my lap, on her knees for me.

The only woman to ever own my heart.

Rox.

Myth

My office was my only solitude in this clubhouse. Even my bedroom became a thoroughfare of club girls wanting a piece of their prez. I let them, of course, I was only human after all, but once they had my cum deep down their little throats, I kicked them out so I could get a good night’s rest.

My bed was only for my ol’ lady.

I wished I’d been so stalwart back in the days when I could call her mine. A stupid, foolish decision and she was gone from my life for good.

Or so she thought.

She had no idea I’d been keeping tabs on her all these years with thanks to my tech guys. I’d told myself it was to make sure she was okay, safe. But when she left to go to London, it should have stopped.

But I couldn’t seem to stop it. I didn’t want to stop looking at her through the cameras in her apartment, or watching her as she drank wine on her terrace, or the way she would light up when she could binge watch her favourite TV show without the nuisance boyfriend of hers in her ear about something stupid.

I hated him.

I’d always hated him, but in a way that would be scary if he were here, and I could get my hands on him. He’d find himself at the bottom of a gorge in the Blue Mountains in no time flat.

My phone rang, and I looked down to see the international number light up with a familiar name.

“Jameson,” I answered. “Thanks for getting back to me.”

“Always, brother,” he replied. “What’s going on in Sydney?”

“Trouble with the local chapter of the Bloody Scorpions. We’ve been waiting for some kind of fight, but it looks like a disrupted supply was their way of greeting us.”

“Fuckers. What’s the plan?” he asked.

“We’re taking the fight to them, an eye for an eye.”

“You think they were responsible for Camo?” he asked.

“There’s no doubt. He was sniffing around and he got shot for it. After his funeral, we’ll draw arms, lock up.”

“And you want permission?” Jameson asked, a level of humour in his tone.