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1
It wasn’t the early morning sunrise creeping across Björn ‘Mountain’ Jensen’s face that was irritating him. With it being late September, it had to be at least eight in the morning before the light would sneak along the carpet to his bed. The light enough to break through the dark dream he’d been having. The rag-a-muffin kitten currently draped across his neck as if his beard were a nest wasn’t bothering him either. Never one to think he’d wear a boa, he had to admit his neck was warm and the vibrating from her purr soothed him.
Sadly, something else was vibrating and that was where his irritation reigned supreme. He knew what would be on the other end of that phone and it wouldn’t stop ringing. Instead, the crazy fool would actually leave a voicemail and then call back. Who left voicemails anymore?
“Spot,” he said petting the kitten from head to tail, still underweight from her life on the streets, though the vet said she was healthy all things considered. “Time to get up, Daddy’s got a treat for you.”
With that, the furry sixties protester rolled onto his chest then turned to face him. Two tiny paws landed on either side of his face as if to say ‘have you gone insane man, you said treat at least point five seconds ago and I am near starvation.’
“Spot, I’ve got you baby,” he said lifting the cat and setting her down.
Mountain reached over, snagged his phone and a can of wet cat food from the top of his nightstand. Cracking the lid he sat up, placed the can on the floor and waited for the next round of vibration. The phone lit up as it skittered across his bed and he hit the button for speaker phone.
“Yes, Lawrence,” he groaned. “Do you know what time it is?”
“The vote is in ten minutes,” Lawrence spat, the family lawyer that insisted Mountain be part of all board votes.
True, he had voting rights. All the Jensen siblings did once they hit twenty-one. Didn’t mean he wanted the hassle. The family money was a mixed bag of security and expectation. One he kept tight to his chest around the Steel MCs. It wasn’t as if they’d fully accepted him and while he understood, he was finding it harder to sit outside the door when their votes were cast. For many reasons, the votes made by fully patched members had more weight than the one he was about to do.
“Have you read the prospectus I sent you?” Lawrence asked.
Mountain shook out the last of the sleep from his brain and ran his hand over his face. The full beard, while thick was still groomed and tamed. “Yeah,” he grumbled. “Why can’t I do this shit with a proxy?”
“You trust Valter to actually vote the way you want?”
“Why can’t Linnea?” he asked, his sister was twenty-two now, she tended to listen to him when he spoke.
Sadly, Lawrence had a point about his brother. Three years older than him and they’d been at odds since high school. No matter how much his parents pushed the family bond, he’d found a deeper one between Casanova and Baldy created first in brotherhood of the MC, then legally when Baldy married Lil’ Bit, Casanova’s sister. Valter had betrayed Björn on an unforgivable level. The fearless nature that had once bonded the two men now had Mountain believing his brother could be a highly functioning sociopath.
“Proxy isn’t allowed until you’ve reached twenty-five. Your grandfather’s way of making sure the voter understood the process fully.”
“Right, fine. Let me take a quick shower and I’ll call in.”
“Please do, we want to finalize this acquisition today.”
“You know it’s Saturday right?”
“Björn,” Lawrence warned. “You’d understand better if you’d quit trying to find yourself in the wilds of—where are you now?”
“You know where I am,” Mountain replied. “I have things to do today.”
A quick shower and vote opposite of his brother’s, but not out of spite, just plain business sense.
Mountain gave Spot a good scratch to her head and opened the door to his room in the clubhouse to see Tempest stepping out of Ax’s room across the hall.
“Hey Mountain,” she said with a sheepish smile.
Hoez had a place and he was a bit surprised she was acting embarrassed to be leaving another club member’s room in yesterday’s clothes. It wasn’t as if it were an oddity and the fact they’d shared a night or two didn’t mean he had any claims to the woman.
“Ax found out he was being patched in next round,” she explained. “Guess our celebration went long.”
Mountain’s heart dropped to his belly at the news. Random votes happened when a man proved himself in one way or another and although Mountain believed he’d done more than Ax, the man didn’t have the baggage Mountain had. Ax had come in clean, not from a past of issues or darkness. No, every man had that. Mountain had come from the Roadkillers. The now destroyed club he didn’t agree with, but had joined out of a need for a family and purpose. Rebellious youth, turned sour and left him feeling more lost, or worse, stuck and unsure how to escape.
All he could do when he was with them was avoid or refuse commands. None of which kept him safe. The women weren’t protected like the Hoez were here. Free to choose the bed and man they wanted to lie with. Men didn’t so much claim a woman, instead they had them ride and fuck them only to lend them to other members at will. No choice on the part of the woman. They were property to be dispensed as the member wanted. Worse yet, their officers could take when and where they wanted the woman.
The moral ambiguity ate at him. Burning his soul deeper when he saw how the Steels were. Watching as they rescued women and helped them find their feet. Sending them into a world without the fear of being beaten or raped. Their children no longer had to cower in cupboards to hide from men who believed they were less.
When he approached the Steels, only one person spoke up for him…Free, now Ol’ Lady to Hollywood. Another Roadkillers convert who had to work hard to prove herself, but it had been a year for him now. A year of prospect, go and fetch bullshit. Gritting his teeth, he tamped down the unfairness of it all. Why hadn’t they let him go, released him with a handshake explaining they couldn’t get over his past affiliation? That he could understand. Instead, he was being kept in a fucked up limbo only he couldn’t accept leaving, not with the good this MC was doing.
