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Maceo beams at me. “I’m proud of you. You made the right decision for yourself. Not everyone has the balls to do what you did.”
“You would be the only one who agrees with me. I ended my one and only relationship and was told I was the fool for leaving him. I lost all my friends. Jacob twisted the story to make me the unappreciative girlfriend who got jealous of his success, if you can believe that shit.
“I burned all my bridges when I left the San Diego firm. I burned all my contacts. No one in the trade would work with me after I up and left without notice. It’s how I discovered my old firm had me blacklisted.
“Every time I applied to another firm I was immediately rejected. If by some miracle I was offered an interview, they would low-ball me in their offer for salary and benefits.”
Maceo looks shocked. “Holy fuck.”
I nod. “My parents were irate for my walking out on the job, regardless of the circumstances. They worked shit job after shit job to provide a better life for my sister and I. They looked at what I did as an insult to what they went through, not knowing my job wasn’t any less shitty than theirs. I refused to settle, and my parents refused to support my decision.
“My sister told me I was being childish and unprofessional, and I should’ve taken it in stride because that’s how business works. Fuck that, and fuck all of them. Since moving here, I haven’t talked to any of them. I miss them, but I’m too hurt by how they treated me to get over it.”
Maceo takes my hand and squeezes. “Damn, baby, that sucks. I’m sorry.”
“Me too,” I say, coy. “Sorry for unloading all my dirty laundry on you.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t want you to feel sorry for telling me anything. That’s not how this relationship works.”
I heave a sigh and try hard to ignore the delicious heat spreading through my body from his words. “Maceo, this isn’t a relationship. I don’t date clients.”
“And look where we are,” he says with a smirk, waving a hand between us. “Your rule should be you don’t date anyone, because you’re already dating me.”
I shake my head and square my shoulders. “My other rule is I don’t date shady people, hence why I’m no longer with Jacob.”
“Good rule,” he says, not catching my drift.
I stare at him, waiting for him to catch on. I see the light click on and his eyes thin. “Wait, you think I’m shady?” he asks, thumbing his chest.
“You’re the president of a motorcycle gang. Your breed is not exactly known for following the law and doing good deeds,” I state with a snort.
Maceo barks a laugh. “Wow! That’s fucking stereotyping at its finest. I’ll agree my crew has bent the law a couple times for the greater good, but everything is legit. Sweetheart, you have no clue what my men and I do for a living.”
“Enlighten me, because I sure as hell won’t consider dating you with what I know right now,” I challenge.
Another laugh before he says, “What do you want to know?”
“Everything, because I’m nosy,” I admit, making Maceo chuckle.
“You already know I was a Navy SEAL, served over ten years before I got out. My crew is the same way, former military of various backgrounds. All of us left after serving more than our fair share of time. For me, I was done watching my brothers being killed left and right in the desert, unable to help the refugees because of orders from above. The final straw was when I watched a child no more than three blown apart from a bomb strapped to his back. Maimed two men on my team.”
I gasp, but he keeps going. “The stories of my MC members are similar. We all wanted to keep serving but with actual results. There are too many politics when it comes to war to do the morally right thing. I left. Gauge, my vice president, followed me, along with Chase and Punk.
“Mercy Ravens MC is a club I formed by chance. It started with me and my three brothers buying a couple hogs and cruising all over the states, taking the occasional security job. I was named president since the club was my idea, and I led our team when we were SEALs. For the past two years, we’ve been recruiting former military who want to continue to serve and say fuck you to the politics.”
He pauses to throw back the rest of the whiskey while I wait.
“Once I noticed how lucrative some of the jobs were, I started my own company. It’s probably more accurate to say we’re a security company whose employees like to ride hogs, than a motorcycle club who enjoys vigilante work. The military pensions we earned were never enough to keep us afloat, but the gun-for-hire jobs more than cushion our pockets. It let us expand the club and help more individuals in need.
“My crew and I make our money by taking on recon, security, and mercenary work. It’s a legit business. We’re hired by families, companies, investors, as well as the government to retrieve intel and people.
“With sex trafficking on the rise, we spend a lot of time bringing home abducted people, including children. Drug busts are another huge job we’re hired for. Sometimes other governments hire us to help with illegal activity going on in their country.
“Some gigs are small, others are huge. The longest mission I’ve been on lasted over three months and pulled in over three million a head for our crew. Sometimes the missions are local and sometimes we’re overseas. I can’t talk about the details of specific cases since its contract work, and legally we can’t disclose private information, but you get the drift.”
Holy shit! His life is like an action movie.His already high hotness factor just blew off the charts.
“Our jobs are completely legal and come with a hefty paycheck. The shit we do is dangerous, but no more dangerous than when we were on active duty. The big difference is that we’re able to cut through the red tape and complete the fucking missions. Whatever sketchy shit you thought my brothers and I were involved in, you can rest assured we aren’t.”
