Temperance: Biker Romance (The Davis Chapter Book 2) by Davida Lynn Page A
Authors: Davida Lynn
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under our thumb.
When the first Brazilian contacted Trask about the vacuum created when Conrad Blythe disappeared, he called the Davis Chapter together for a meeting. When Bandit told me what the meeting would be about, it was like I was trapped in the house with Conrad all over again.
“Please tell me he’s not considering working with them. Please, Bandit.”
He raised his hands. “I don’t know. We’ll have to wait and see. Trask is a hard man to read.”
That night, my heart raced hard as I feared that my life was somehow pulling me back to something I didn’t want it to be. Just when I thought I had fallen into an amazing groove with Bandit, the life Conrad forced onto me was creeping back up. I sat beside the bikers I had adopted as my own. I saw them as an extended family. They were my brothers.
“We’re here to discuss drugs.” Trask stood, a bottle of Rolling Rock sweating on the bar in front of him.
A few of the bikers cheered, pulling some laughter from others.
“Not the fun kind, unfortunately.” Trask wore a smile, but his words sounded hard. “Blythe had something of an empire, and his contacts in South America are feeling the pinch. Since the Devil’s Branch are laying quite low, I guess we were next on their Rolodex. Here’s what they-”
The door to the bar swung open, and everyone spun around to see who was interrupting our meeting. Romero strolled through the door, a shit-eating grin on his face.
“The prodigal son returns. So good of you to join us for a change.” Trask echoed the feelings of everyone in the bar. Romero had once been thought of as second-in-command with the Rising Sons, but he was barely around anymore. Anytime someone brought it up with him, he deflected. Suspicions were beginning to grow around him. There were rumors that he would soon start rolling with the Devil’s Branch. Even I knew it would be a huge blow to the Rising Sons. Romero was equal parts muscle and mind, and he was a hell of a lot of both. Between all of that and his charming good looks, he almost never seemed off.
“Hey, don't let me interrupt. I got caught up with some stuff. Didn't mean to be late.” He dragged a chair over to the group, the loud scrape along the floor doing nothing to help his case.
Trask turned away as if another second of looking at Romero would push him over the edge. “As I was saying, the Brazilians have product, but they have no one to distribute. Apparently we're gaining something of a reputation. They know we get the job done, and we keep our mouths shut.
“Some clubs run like a dictatorship. This one does not. This goes up for a vote, and I'm not going to say anything one way or another. My vote doesn't mean anymore or any less than all of you. Celeste,” My heart stopped at the sound of my name. “Since this would be a very large financial burden on you, I think it's only fair that you get a vote, too. Does anyone disagree?”
I was surprised that Trask would give me that honor. I wasn't really a brother, but I felt the respect of everyone in the room. Not a single one said anything, giving me the go ahead.
“Good. I want everyone to weigh the consequences of this decision. It could mean an incredible amount of money, and it could mean an incredible amount of trouble. With a few noted exceptions.” Trask stared right at Romero. “Everyone here saw firsthand what a drug empire means. I'll give you five minutes to think about it, then we vote.”
Outside behind the bar, my voice was frantic but low. “Bandit, is this thing going to pass? If it does, we become Conrad. We're no better than him. We might as well have joined him.”
“Keep your voice down.” I didn't like how secretive Bandit was being about all of this. It worried me deep down to my soul. “We have to accept the outcome. You heard Trask. The Rising Sons are a democracy. I hope you know in your heart which way I'm going to vote, though. My love for you is more
When the first Brazilian contacted Trask about the vacuum created when Conrad Blythe disappeared, he called the Davis Chapter together for a meeting. When Bandit told me what the meeting would be about, it was like I was trapped in the house with Conrad all over again.
“Please tell me he’s not considering working with them. Please, Bandit.”
He raised his hands. “I don’t know. We’ll have to wait and see. Trask is a hard man to read.”
That night, my heart raced hard as I feared that my life was somehow pulling me back to something I didn’t want it to be. Just when I thought I had fallen into an amazing groove with Bandit, the life Conrad forced onto me was creeping back up. I sat beside the bikers I had adopted as my own. I saw them as an extended family. They were my brothers.
“We’re here to discuss drugs.” Trask stood, a bottle of Rolling Rock sweating on the bar in front of him.
A few of the bikers cheered, pulling some laughter from others.
“Not the fun kind, unfortunately.” Trask wore a smile, but his words sounded hard. “Blythe had something of an empire, and his contacts in South America are feeling the pinch. Since the Devil’s Branch are laying quite low, I guess we were next on their Rolodex. Here’s what they-”
The door to the bar swung open, and everyone spun around to see who was interrupting our meeting. Romero strolled through the door, a shit-eating grin on his face.
“The prodigal son returns. So good of you to join us for a change.” Trask echoed the feelings of everyone in the bar. Romero had once been thought of as second-in-command with the Rising Sons, but he was barely around anymore. Anytime someone brought it up with him, he deflected. Suspicions were beginning to grow around him. There were rumors that he would soon start rolling with the Devil’s Branch. Even I knew it would be a huge blow to the Rising Sons. Romero was equal parts muscle and mind, and he was a hell of a lot of both. Between all of that and his charming good looks, he almost never seemed off.
“Hey, don't let me interrupt. I got caught up with some stuff. Didn't mean to be late.” He dragged a chair over to the group, the loud scrape along the floor doing nothing to help his case.
Trask turned away as if another second of looking at Romero would push him over the edge. “As I was saying, the Brazilians have product, but they have no one to distribute. Apparently we're gaining something of a reputation. They know we get the job done, and we keep our mouths shut.
“Some clubs run like a dictatorship. This one does not. This goes up for a vote, and I'm not going to say anything one way or another. My vote doesn't mean anymore or any less than all of you. Celeste,” My heart stopped at the sound of my name. “Since this would be a very large financial burden on you, I think it's only fair that you get a vote, too. Does anyone disagree?”
I was surprised that Trask would give me that honor. I wasn't really a brother, but I felt the respect of everyone in the room. Not a single one said anything, giving me the go ahead.
“Good. I want everyone to weigh the consequences of this decision. It could mean an incredible amount of money, and it could mean an incredible amount of trouble. With a few noted exceptions.” Trask stared right at Romero. “Everyone here saw firsthand what a drug empire means. I'll give you five minutes to think about it, then we vote.”
Outside behind the bar, my voice was frantic but low. “Bandit, is this thing going to pass? If it does, we become Conrad. We're no better than him. We might as well have joined him.”
“Keep your voice down.” I didn't like how secretive Bandit was being about all of this. It worried me deep down to my soul. “We have to accept the outcome. You heard Trask. The Rising Sons are a democracy. I hope you know in your heart which way I'm going to vote, though. My love for you is more
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