Chapter One
Saxon
“I say it’s time for a beer.” Stone tosses the moving pads into the bed of Gunner’s truck and slams the tailgate closed. “Let the old ladies fuss over where all this goes. The prospects can muscle around the stuff that’s too heavy for the women.”
Nodding, Gunner drags up the front of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face. “I second that. Prez?”
A cold brew sounds pretty damn good. We’ve been hauling furniture from the clubhouse in town out to the Erickson ranch for most of the day now, and what started as a cool morning has turned into a hot bitch of an afternoon. But although the moving is done, I’m not.
“Go on without me,” I tell them. “You riding out to the Barracks tonight?”
Ever since the Hellfire Riders took over the strip joint and surrounding territory from the Eighty-Eight Henchmen, we’ve been keeping a strong presence there. Sending a good portion of the Riders in that direction means losing business at my own tavern, the Wolf Den, but I’m absorbing that blow for now. Cutting the Eighty-Eight’s legs out from under them matters more than my cash flow does.
Stone’s mug hardens, ragged scars whitening against his tan. “We’ll be there. Howler and a few other Blue Coyotes are coming in to talk about setting up a ring during the Pendleton rally. You in for that?”
Fighting. I’ve done it before. My fists earned the down payment on the Den. It could be quick way to make up for that slow cash flow now but I don’t need the distraction. “Not this time.”
Stone and Gunner exchange a quick glance. Probably deciding whether to try persuading me.
“Not until the Eighty-Eight are gone,” I say and Stone nods.
“Fair enough. We’ll pin our hopes on Pretty Boy, instead.” He jerks a thumb at Gunner.
The sergeant at arms blows him a kiss over the bed of the truck, then says, “So you don’t think the prez is pretty?”
Stone snorts and looks to me. “You’re a regular Ken doll, boss. A giant, mean Ken doll.”
“Except not blond,” Gunner says.
“And with a beard.”
“But without the slick suits.”
“Or Hawaiian board shorts.”
Gunner’s eyebrows shoot up. “You know what kind of shorts Ken had?”
“Because I have a sister, asshole. You know how many times I had to put pants on Ken? Made me shrivel every time Anna left him lying naked on top of her other dolls. He doesn’t have a dick , man. It was my sacred duty as a dude to cover that shit up.”
Jesus. I could have gone my whole life without imagining the Riders’ enforcer dressing a dickless doll in a pair of flowered shorts. But there’s nothing guaranteed to keep Gunner on a topic longer than a mention of Anna—unless she’s anywhere near him, then he shuts up real fast. He’s good at making his interest appear casual but the pattern doesn’t lie. He always follows up any mention of her with a question.
“She had them all naked?”
“Yeah, she was making them do some freaky shit. Which would’ve been great if it was just the girl dolls, because they had amazing breasts. So perky and the perfect size for rubbing with your thumbs. Although, the first time I saw a real woman, I wondered what the hell her nipples were—”
“Shut it now,” I cut Stone off before he can start telling us about jerking off to the plastic tits. “And get the hell out of here before I find a doll to shove up your ass.”
They’re grinning as they climb into the truck. Jokers, the both of them, until shit starts going down or they’re on duty. Then they’re two of the coldest bastards currently wearing the Riders’ colors.
The tires kick up the red dirt and dried pine needles lying on the ground outside the clubhouse before they hit the gravel drive. We’ll need to get asphalt laid down before too long. Now that we’re moving out here, we’ll be riding that road often, and gravel’s hard as hell on a bike. Hard as hell on a biker’s face, too.
I can’t see the need
Saxon
“I say it’s time for a beer.” Stone tosses the moving pads into the bed of Gunner’s truck and slams the tailgate closed. “Let the old ladies fuss over where all this goes. The prospects can muscle around the stuff that’s too heavy for the women.”
Nodding, Gunner drags up the front of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face. “I second that. Prez?”
A cold brew sounds pretty damn good. We’ve been hauling furniture from the clubhouse in town out to the Erickson ranch for most of the day now, and what started as a cool morning has turned into a hot bitch of an afternoon. But although the moving is done, I’m not.
“Go on without me,” I tell them. “You riding out to the Barracks tonight?”
Ever since the Hellfire Riders took over the strip joint and surrounding territory from the Eighty-Eight Henchmen, we’ve been keeping a strong presence there. Sending a good portion of the Riders in that direction means losing business at my own tavern, the Wolf Den, but I’m absorbing that blow for now. Cutting the Eighty-Eight’s legs out from under them matters more than my cash flow does.
Stone’s mug hardens, ragged scars whitening against his tan. “We’ll be there. Howler and a few other Blue Coyotes are coming in to talk about setting up a ring during the Pendleton rally. You in for that?”
Fighting. I’ve done it before. My fists earned the down payment on the Den. It could be quick way to make up for that slow cash flow now but I don’t need the distraction. “Not this time.”
Stone and Gunner exchange a quick glance. Probably deciding whether to try persuading me.
“Not until the Eighty-Eight are gone,” I say and Stone nods.
“Fair enough. We’ll pin our hopes on Pretty Boy, instead.” He jerks a thumb at Gunner.
The sergeant at arms blows him a kiss over the bed of the truck, then says, “So you don’t think the prez is pretty?”
Stone snorts and looks to me. “You’re a regular Ken doll, boss. A giant, mean Ken doll.”
“Except not blond,” Gunner says.
“And with a beard.”
“But without the slick suits.”
“Or Hawaiian board shorts.”
Gunner’s eyebrows shoot up. “You know what kind of shorts Ken had?”
“Because I have a sister, asshole. You know how many times I had to put pants on Ken? Made me shrivel every time Anna left him lying naked on top of her other dolls. He doesn’t have a dick , man. It was my sacred duty as a dude to cover that shit up.”
Jesus. I could have gone my whole life without imagining the Riders’ enforcer dressing a dickless doll in a pair of flowered shorts. But there’s nothing guaranteed to keep Gunner on a topic longer than a mention of Anna—unless she’s anywhere near him, then he shuts up real fast. He’s good at making his interest appear casual but the pattern doesn’t lie. He always follows up any mention of her with a question.
“She had them all naked?”
“Yeah, she was making them do some freaky shit. Which would’ve been great if it was just the girl dolls, because they had amazing breasts. So perky and the perfect size for rubbing with your thumbs. Although, the first time I saw a real woman, I wondered what the hell her nipples were—”
“Shut it now,” I cut Stone off before he can start telling us about jerking off to the plastic tits. “And get the hell out of here before I find a doll to shove up your ass.”
They’re grinning as they climb into the truck. Jokers, the both of them, until shit starts going down or they’re on duty. Then they’re two of the coldest bastards currently wearing the Riders’ colors.
The tires kick up the red dirt and dried pine needles lying on the ground outside the clubhouse before they hit the gravel drive. We’ll need to get asphalt laid down before too long. Now that we’re moving out here, we’ll be riding that road often, and gravel’s hard as hell on a bike. Hard as hell on a biker’s face, too.
I can’t see the need
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