own motorcycles or even have our drivers license. But he was our fearless leader and we would have followed him into the depths of hell.
I walked into the warehouse and the place was bustling with people. The MC was never this busy back in the day. No other chapters. Just the Sacks County MC. Coal used to sling drinks behind the bar and E-Z knew how to consume them. Cash was always in the office staring at financial documents behind his spectacles.
We had a good thing going until Emily came into my life. And everything changed. Her long, curly dark hair with blue eyes could bring any man down to their knees. My mind was lost in a fog of emotions. My club meant everything to me and Emily threatened it all. I always regretted letting her go and I couldn't let Dagger make the same decision. If he had a chance to live a normal life, he had to go for it.
The meeting room was empty when I entered. My fingers traced over the gavel at the head of the table. The long wooden table dominated the room with a Devil's Hellions spider carved into it. It took Tater months to finish the thing. I sat down in my seat, the chair creaking with age. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I'd made so many decisions in this room over the years. Some bad and some good. Blaze used to sit in here all day, dreaming about ways to take the club to the next level. But now it was Dagger's domain. His turn to steer the club in the direction he thought best.
I looked up at the row of pictures framed on the wall of our fallen brothers. There were too many pictures. We'd lost so many over the years. So many under my watch. Did I do a good enough job? We're those lives lost under my rule in vain? My eyes began to tear up and my throat choked.
I never meant to be President. I wasn't meant for all the pressure and responsibility. If Blaze was still around, my life would have been entirely different. We might not have lost so many men. There would have been a lot fewer sleepless nights.
I kissed two fingers and placed them on Blaze's photo. “Rest in peace, buddy. Hope you're giving God hell up there.”
I left the MC and hopped on my old Harley. The thing was still kicking after all these years. Kind of like me. Now it was time to begin the next chapter.
Chapter One
Pain
1986
My Harley roared underneath me as I shifted into gear and chased the group of Death Merchants. Coal and Tank were close behind, forming a V formation. I looked behind to see Tank with the biggest grin behind his bushy mustache. We lived for this. The Mexicans were in our territory and we had them on the run.
Sunday morning meant a lot of church traffic: old and slow drivers. The sun was barely overhead but the heat was already burning my leather cut. It was going to be another scorcher in the desert today. We swerved in and out of cars, the Mexicans not far ahead. They didn't dare fire on us with so many civilians around. Cars honked at us as we passed by and I returned their kindness by knocking their side mirrors off. The Black Widows owned these roads and this town needed to give us a little more respect. We were trying to clean their streets after all.
At a four-way intersection the Mexicans split up. I signaled to Coal and Tank and they knew what to do. I took the two Mexicans that made a right turn and followed them down Main Street. The church was at the end and the traffic was jammed. That didn't stop The Death Merchants. They popped onto the sidewalk and sped past pedestrians. Innocents could get seriously hurt but I had to follow them.
We zoomed past the storefront windows, the wind flicking back my long hair. My grip on my handlebars tightened like I was stroking my cock to finish. Old women in their Sunday best dived out of the way,spilling coffee all over their flowery dresses. The Mexicans turned the corner and onto an empty street. I followed, whipping out my Remington 1911 handgun and firing a couple shots. I
I walked into the warehouse and the place was bustling with people. The MC was never this busy back in the day. No other chapters. Just the Sacks County MC. Coal used to sling drinks behind the bar and E-Z knew how to consume them. Cash was always in the office staring at financial documents behind his spectacles.
We had a good thing going until Emily came into my life. And everything changed. Her long, curly dark hair with blue eyes could bring any man down to their knees. My mind was lost in a fog of emotions. My club meant everything to me and Emily threatened it all. I always regretted letting her go and I couldn't let Dagger make the same decision. If he had a chance to live a normal life, he had to go for it.
The meeting room was empty when I entered. My fingers traced over the gavel at the head of the table. The long wooden table dominated the room with a Devil's Hellions spider carved into it. It took Tater months to finish the thing. I sat down in my seat, the chair creaking with age. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I'd made so many decisions in this room over the years. Some bad and some good. Blaze used to sit in here all day, dreaming about ways to take the club to the next level. But now it was Dagger's domain. His turn to steer the club in the direction he thought best.
I looked up at the row of pictures framed on the wall of our fallen brothers. There were too many pictures. We'd lost so many over the years. So many under my watch. Did I do a good enough job? We're those lives lost under my rule in vain? My eyes began to tear up and my throat choked.
I never meant to be President. I wasn't meant for all the pressure and responsibility. If Blaze was still around, my life would have been entirely different. We might not have lost so many men. There would have been a lot fewer sleepless nights.
I kissed two fingers and placed them on Blaze's photo. “Rest in peace, buddy. Hope you're giving God hell up there.”
I left the MC and hopped on my old Harley. The thing was still kicking after all these years. Kind of like me. Now it was time to begin the next chapter.
Chapter One
Pain
1986
My Harley roared underneath me as I shifted into gear and chased the group of Death Merchants. Coal and Tank were close behind, forming a V formation. I looked behind to see Tank with the biggest grin behind his bushy mustache. We lived for this. The Mexicans were in our territory and we had them on the run.
Sunday morning meant a lot of church traffic: old and slow drivers. The sun was barely overhead but the heat was already burning my leather cut. It was going to be another scorcher in the desert today. We swerved in and out of cars, the Mexicans not far ahead. They didn't dare fire on us with so many civilians around. Cars honked at us as we passed by and I returned their kindness by knocking their side mirrors off. The Black Widows owned these roads and this town needed to give us a little more respect. We were trying to clean their streets after all.
At a four-way intersection the Mexicans split up. I signaled to Coal and Tank and they knew what to do. I took the two Mexicans that made a right turn and followed them down Main Street. The church was at the end and the traffic was jammed. That didn't stop The Death Merchants. They popped onto the sidewalk and sped past pedestrians. Innocents could get seriously hurt but I had to follow them.
We zoomed past the storefront windows, the wind flicking back my long hair. My grip on my handlebars tightened like I was stroking my cock to finish. Old women in their Sunday best dived out of the way,spilling coffee all over their flowery dresses. The Mexicans turned the corner and onto an empty street. I followed, whipping out my Remington 1911 handgun and firing a couple shots. I
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