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SPEED
There’s nothing worse than not being able to ride free and clear without having to watch your back. Even more so when you’re on edge. Honestly pisses me off that I can’t just go out on my bike, clear my head, and do something. It’s like I’m going insane.
We’ve been on guard since everything went down with what happened to Brake, and secrets he held that turned my stomach were revealed. I hate that he went through that shit and didn’t tell anyone. He’d gone it alone, not letting anyone in on what was going on.
But I get it.
I grew up in a house that was not much different when it came to abuse, but nothing like what he endured. I didn’t have to go through what he did. My shit was different. Volatile. It was filled with loathing and hatred.
The difference, though, between Brake’s shit and mine? The day I turned eighteen, I was out of that house and never went back.
Fuck.
I push the lid down on those thoughts and shove them to the back of my mind. There’s no way in hell I’m going down that rabbit hole. No fucking way. I learned a long time ago to never think of the past. Never let it get to me. Nothing good can come from it.
Sitting at the bar, I nurse a beer, wishing I could be out riding my bike instead. My bike and being out on the road are one of two things that ease the tension that fills my brain in stressful situations. It’s either that or fucking, and there’s no way in hell I’m getting near any of the strays here with their loose-ass snatches. I grew tired of them a few years ago and prefer to find outside pussy. But it’s not always easy finding someone who can handle me. Handle what I like in the sack.
I’m not called Speed for nothing. There’s a reason for my brothers dubbing me with my road name, and it ain’t because of the fucking drug either. I ride fast. When I was younger, I got speeding tickets to prove it. I fuck the women I take to my bed hard and fast, leaving them walking funny for days. I also take life by the balls and live it how I want without regret. And I’ve got a thing for kink. Granted, that’s not part of the reason they call me Speed, but it’s part of me fucking. I take a woman how I want, leaving her craving for more. I don’t slow for anything or anyone. The way I see it, we’ve got one life to live, so why not live it up?
As for the women I take to my bed, if I like what they give, I get their number, and if I get a taste for them, I’ll give them a call. Otherwise, I move on to the next, never giving them a second thought.
There’s no reason for it. It’s not like I’ll find someone who can handle me and my needs, not really. The women I’ve fucked, they’ll take a ride on the wild side, but they won’t actually live the life. That’s perfectly fine with me. I don’t need a bitch who’ll nag me not to do what I love doing. Not that any of the women my brothers have as ol’ ladies do that, but I’ve seen it happen before. And because of this, I prefer my bike and being on the road. I don’t have to worry about the headaches a woman will cause me in the long run.
“You good, brother?” Lynch asks, taking a stool beside me and motioning to a prospect to get him a beer. Usually, Tiny’s working behind the bar, though this is against Chains’s demands. She’s not, but lately, she’s been doing other shit. My guess is she’s busy taking care of the kids Chains knocked her up with. She’s a good woman. Good for my Prez. Good with her family and loves this club. We all know this, considering she makes it known by her actions.
I’ve also noticed all the brothers who have ol’ ladies haven’t been letting them far from them. Their kids, either. I don’t blame them. This shitstorm isn’t a joke.
“I’m good, what about you?” I ask and lift my beer to my lips, taking in the grimace on his face.
Something’s up with him.
“Got a call from Harlow,” he mutters in answer.
Harlow’s his sister, and he lost her years ago because of some shit that went down when she was a teenager. It sucked he lost his sister in a way, but she’s happy now. We’ve all seen that to be true when she’s visited.
“How’s she doing?” I ask, taking a sip of my beer.
“She says she’s good, but I’ve got a feeling something’s up.” He grimaces.
“What do you mean? You think it’s anything to do with that Perrin fucker?” If it is, it means Chains is right, and they went after them first rather than coming at the club.
“Don’t know.” Lynch shakes his head, releases a heavy breath, and drinks some bitter brew before looking in my direction, but not really seeing anything. He’s that far in his head. “Just something about the way she talked tells me something’s up. I don’t like it.”
“You know if there is, she’s in good hands,” I assure him. Not to mention the fact that she’s also one badass bitch. To top off that, she’s Ranger’s ol’ lady. “Ranger won’t let anything happen to her, and he definitely ain’t about to let her out of his sight if trouble is brewing.”
That’s one thing no one needs. Something to affect Harlow, Raven, or Victoria. The moment that happens, all hell will rain down, and blood will flow. Not just because of them being who they are and holding the skillsets and training they have as the contract assassins known as Harpy, Silent Night, and Dark Spirit. You still have to deal with their men. Tracker is one of the best men out there to track someone down. According to what I’ve heard, he’s like a bloodhound with his nose to the ground when he’s looking for someone. Blaze has no issues with blood and going after those whom he deems a threat. He’ll kill anyone that gets in his way or comes near his family. There’s also Ranger, who will fuck you up for even daring to look at his woman in any way he doesn’t like. So yeah, they’ll have the club to go through when it comes to those women or the shitstorm coming.
“Yeah, but it doesn’t mean I don’t think of Harlow and what’s going on. This shit is fucked up,” he grumbles. “We’re having to wait to see what move they’re doing, and for all we know, they’ve made one, and we just don’t know it yet. It’s not like she fuckin’ said what’s going down up there. For all I know, they’ve gone after Victoria and her kid.”
“You’d be right,” Chains growls from behind us, getting our attention.
I spin on my stool to face him and instantly notice the fire in his eyes. Something’s definitely happened for him to have that look in his gaze.
“What’s happened, Prez?” I ask, fully alert and already mentally calculating how many bullets are in my gun and if I’ll need my backup. Or whoever I have to cover the backs of. This club is my family, and we all look out for each other.
“It’s happened. Perrin decided to go after Victoria first. Sent some piece of ass. Don’t know the full story yet, but we’re gonna be having guests soon,” he states and looks directly at me, then to Lynch. “The two of you are gonna be staying at Ryder’s old place and taking babysitting duties.”
“What the fuck?” Lynch growls. “Who and why?”
