Skittles sat with Wendy and Carmen when I emerged from the club’s depths with a slight limp. They watched me approach and enjoyed my perceived misery.

  “Don’t start on me. It was fun at the time.”

  “The way you’re walking, I’d guess you took it in the ass,” Carmen said. My eyes lit up. “That’s what I thought!” She left her stool and grabbed a cushion from another seat. She put the cushion on the stool and offered the seat. “You’ll need a couple of days.” The three giggled like we were back in high school.

  “The dick house is our first club test. Successful, and we are golden. Fuck it up, and they won’t give us anything else.” Skittles opened a folder sitting on the counter. She removed a building design and handed it to me. “I need your help vetting the design and ensuring the building meets code.”

  I nodded and studied the sheet. Skittles knew my father taught me the ins and outs of commercial real estate. I managed several buildings, including maintenance and tenant contracts. “When do we leave?”

  “Twenty minutes. Beast, Brainiac, and Diesel are meeting us there,” Skittles said. “Yes, you get to see the jackhammer this morning.”

  I couldn’t help smiling. “Are we each lining up dick for the business?”

  Wendy nodded. “Just like we discussed.”

  Trixie walked behind the bar and grabbed a beer from the fridge. “Need any help?” she asked.

  Skittles considered it for a moment but shook her head. “Figuring out if the new place is right or not. I’ll let you know, though.”

  We left the bar and Trixie behind. “Something isn’t right about her,” I said.

  “It was the pussy punch.” Carmen laughed.

  Stimpy, one of the Prospects, rolled forward on his bike. He wasn’t a big guy like the other club members, but he’d taken a bullet, which meant everything to the club. “Beast told me to stay on your tails.”

  Wendy sauntered to the wide-eyed Stimpy. He liked what he saw. “Staying on my tail? I like that.”

  “What’s gotten into her?” I asked. “She’s become the resident leg spreader.”

  “A man can feel his oats, but a woman can’t?” Skittles asked. “She’s having fun.”

  We climbed into my car and left the club, Stimpy on our tail as promised.

  “So, what was it like, Gigi?” Carmen asked. “The entire club could hear you and Diesel going at it.”

  I watched Carmen and Wendy through the mirror. I hated mirrors. “Well, at first, I thought he would split me open. Then he lubed me up and slid right in.” Damn, he was incredible.

  “Your father will be back,” Wendy said. “What then?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know.” I didn’t know. If nothing else, he was unpredictable.

  “Take a left,” Skittles said.

  “It’s right next door to the whore house.” I pulled into the parking lot next to three bikes, and we got out. Diesel was right. I needed him.

  “I sent messages to a few customers last night,” Wendy said. “They’re interested.”

  “Aren’t they a bunch of fat old men?” I asked. “Female clients want the kind of guys on those romance novel covers, not what they see every night.”

  “You want Diesel dicking these women?” Carmen asked.

  “They’d never survive.” I led the way inside, where Beast and Brainiac were waiting at the front counter. The place was spotless. “Where’s Diesel?”

  “He’s out back. But I don’t know going out there is such a good idea.” Beast grabbed Skittles by the ass, and the two kissed.

  “I’ll be right back.” I took the only hallway, following the exit signs. I opened the backdoor and found Diesel sitting on a tree stump in the trees lining the property. He was staring at bloody knuckles. “What the fuck happened, Diesel?”

  Diesel raised his head, the rage in his eyes moving me back a step. “Don’t be afraid, G. I’d never hurt you.”

  Moving to my knees, I placed my hands on his arm. “What happened?” I asked softly.

  He turned to the bloody tree to our left. Most of the bark was gone in one spot, replaced by splatters of crimson.

  “I’m not sure what happens, G,” he said. “It always feels like there’s something inside me trying to get out. The only way to keep it down is to release my rage.”

  Skittles never mentioned anything about Diesel having anger issues. I’d left an abusive relationship last year before meeting Charles, swearing never to go back to another.

  “Asshole.”

  Diesel moved me away and stood. Three men approached, wearing kuttes from another club. As they got closer, I saw they were from another Devil's Messengers chapter.

  “I’ll go get Beast and Brainiac,” I said.

  Diesel grabbed my arm. “No.”

  “Better send the old lady away,” the man in the middle said. The patch on his vest said, Sgt. at Arms. The other two men were Prospects.

  “It’s not a good day to die,” Diesel said. “Turn around.”

  “Not gonna happen.” They didn’t stop. They kept coming. Diesel pushed me away when the middle guy took a swing.

  The punch hit Diesel in the shoulder, and he roared like a wild animal. The men backed away, but it was too late. They had started a fight that Diesel would finish, even if it meant chasing them around the building.

  The Sgt. at Arms stumbled as he backed away. Diesel grabbed the Prospect to his left and hit the man so hard that his jaw tore away from his face, dangling as the man screamed. Diesel went to hit him again.

  “Diesel, no,” I screamed, but it was too late. He hit the man with a left, and the man’s jaw, bloody, skin attached, bounced across the ground. The Prospect’s eyes went to the sky, and he dropped dead where he stood.

  “Diesel,” Beast yelled. The others ran toward us, but Diesel already had the Sgt. at Arms above his head. He slammed the man against a tree and the sound of bones breaking filled the air. The man dropped dead at the tree’s base.

  Beast moved between Diesel and the Prospect, keeping a good distance. It scared me that Beast had fear in his eyes.

  Skittles tried to pull me away, but I pushed her back. “Diesel,” I said softly and approached. He shifted his eyes to me. “Take my hand.” I reached out.

  Diesel hesitated. “I’m sorry, G. I’d never hurt you.”

  “I know, Diesel. I know that.” He placed a bloody hand in mine. I moved closer. “Take me to your place, and let me help you.” I tossed my car keys to Skittles. “I’ll ride on your bike.”

  “It’s fine,” Diesel,” Beast said. “We’ll take care of this douchebag.”

  Diesel and I walked back through the building and out to his bike. He climbed on without a word, and I climbed on behind him, blood on my hands and shirt.

  We drove straight through the town center to Diesel’s place. At that moment, he didn’t care if the locals stopped us. I feared he wanted another fight, one that would result in death by a cop. Luckily, nobody noticed the bloody biker passing by. His heart pounded so hard and fast that I could feel it through his back.

  Diesel slowed on the opposite side of the city and pulled into a parking lot. The apartments around us were nicer than I had imagined they would be. He parked and climbed off the bike, stopping to help me. He said nothing while leading me to a first-floor apartment.

  “Diesel, talk to me.”

  He opened the apartment door, and we entered. He tossed the keys on the kitchen table and returned to the bedroom, where there was a second bathroom.

  “There’s a First-Aid kit in the closet.” He ran his hand under the faucet while I found the kit. I wondered, when he gazed into the mirror, what he saw. A biker? A monster? Did he see the thing inside him trying to get out?

  He sat on the toilet and rested his hand on the vanity. The skin around four knuckles was gone. I put a finger under his chin and tilted his head. “It’s fine now.” I put an antibiotic on his knuckles and then wrapped the knuckles in gauze. “How can I help you?”

  “I really don’t know, G.” He flexed the hand wrapped in gauze. “Thank you.”

  “What happened before I got there?” I asked. I didn’t want him to think I was pushy, but I wanted to help.

  “While we were inside, this fucking ringing in my ears started, so I came out back to get fresh air.” He stood and went to the living room. I followed at a safe distance. I didn’t think he would hurt me intentionally, but whatever was floating around in his head might make him do it unintentionally. “I saw a man standing amongst the trees. Fucker just stood there. Didn’t say a damn word.” He pressed his hands against his temples. “Then he said, ‘It’s time, Ludwig.’”

  “Time for what?”

  Diesel sat on the couch and opened the whiskey bottle on the end table. He took a long drink, capped the bottle, and put it aside. “I want you to go to Boston with me.”

  “You think it was a message from a dead relative?”

  “I don’t need you patronizing me, G.” He reached for the whiskey bottle but pushed it away.

  “I’m not. I’m trying to understand what it all means.” I walked to the door, ready for a road trip. “We should get back to the club and tell them we’re heading northeast.” I gave him a smile in hopes of lifting his spirits.

  “You’re a good old lady, G.”

  “I’m assuming that’s a compliment?”

  Diesel smiled, and I felt better about his mental state, at least for now. “How’s your ass?” He got up and pinned me against the door. “Sore?”

  “That’s what you were hoping, isn’t it?”

  “Hope is a dangerous thing, G.” He slapped my ass, inflicting pain. “I saw the way you were walking.” He pulled me away from the door, and we left.

  Not that his ego wasn’t already inflated, but I didn’t tell Diesel it wasn’t easy sitting on the bike. When we got to the club, the lot was full of bikes, and my ass was happy to get off and walk.

  “How’s he doing?” Skittles asked. She was sitting outside with Wendy and Carmen, drinking beers and wearing blue jeans and tank tops. I laughed because we looked like old ladies.

  “Looks like we’re going on a road trip.” I pulled a can of beer from the ice bucket on the table and started my own party. “I think we’re heading to Boston in the morning.”

  Wendy and Carmen cheered.

  Skittles frowned. “Does Beast know this?”

  I shrugged. “He probably does now.”

  3

  Diesel

  “I think if I don’t go and figure out what the fuck is going on in my head, I’m going to do something stupid to hurt this club or Gigi. I don’t want to hurt either of those two things.” I finished the whiskey shot and watched Beast do the same. He rolled the gavel around in his hand.

  “We were going to vote next week, brother.” Beast walked around the room. He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. Something was working in his head, but before he had a chance to speak, Towles opened the door.

  “We’re all here,” Towles said, and all the officers filed inside.

  I moved from the leather chair so Big Kentucky could have his seat. I stood against the wall. “Should I leave?”

  “No.” Beast took his seat at the head of the table. He took out his phone and sent a text message. “I need to move up a patch vote. Any objections? Good.” He pointed the gavel at me. “I wanna put it on the table now for this big asshole to get his patch.”

  “Doesn’t he have to suck our dicks first?” Watcher said and stood. Everyone laughed but stopped laughing when he unzipped his pants. He started to pull his dick out.

  “Put that fucking thing away,” Beast said. “This is some serious shit here.” He narrowed his eyes as if he were about to give an ass chewing. Then he stood and looked around the table. “Everybody stand.”

  I watched the officers stand and thought shit was about to hit the fan. It didn’t, unfortunately.

  “Take your dicks out,” Beast said. “Let him see he’s not the only one with ten inches.”

  “Oh, fuck,” I said. “Please don’t”

  As dicks plopped out on the table, I grabbed the bottle of whiskey from the shelf and swallowed. “Some sorry assholes,” I said.

  “All in favor of patching in Diesel, slap your dicks on the table,” Beast said and was the first to do so. Everyone followed his lead and voted me into the club. “Anything you’d like to say.”

  I walked around the table, making eye contact with each officer, and stopped at Kickstand’s empty chair. “There’s not one dick in this room bigger than mine.”

  Beast laughed, and everyone followed his lead again. When everyone put their dicks away, he said, “You deserve this, Diesel. Club is lucky to have someone as loyal as you. Everybody have a seat.”

  Cinder slid a chair sitting next to the wall over to the table. “Have a seat, asshole.”

  “Diesel is headed to Boston for a week or so to get some shit straightened out.” Beast looked at me. “I’ll be going with him. I need a volunteer to head up with us.”

  “I got it,” Brainiac said first. “My sister lives in Boston. Haven’t seen her in a few years.”

  “Thanks, brother,” I said. “Thanks, Beast.”

  “Don’t thank me yet. Neither of you.” Beast got up and looked out the window. “It’s here.” He headed to the door. “If there’s no other business to discuss in private, there’s something I wanna show you outside.”

  “Oh shit,” Cinder said. “This can’t be good.”

  “Shut the fuck up, or you’ll be driving the damn thing,” Beast said.

  “Fuck, that sounds even worse.” Cinder followed Beast out of church, and the rest of us fell in line.

  Outside, the word fuck slipped from every mouth, all eyes on the large-ass vehicle sitting in the middle of the club parking lot.

  “What the hell are we supposed to do with that?” Big Kentucky asked.

  I broke rank and walked the twenty or so steps to the RV. The thing shined brighter than some of the mods we sent for sale. I opened the door and climbed inside. It was fucking pristine. There were two bedrooms in the back, a bed above the cockpit, two couches, a fully furnished kitchen, and a shitter that included a sink and shower. The floors in the two bedrooms consisted of tile and carpet.

  “Tell me there’s not two old people in there half dead,” Watcher said when I left the RV.

  “Yeah. The old man is on the shitter, and his wife is in the back switching out her Depends.” I nodded at Beast. “We driving this to Boston?”

  “Towles is,” Beast said, and the entire club laughed.

  “What the fuck.” Brainiac obviously regretted volunteering.

  “You want monkey ass after a twenty-two-hour ride?” Beast Said.

  I walked around the behemoth. “My grandparents had one,” I said. “My grandpa let me drive it a time or two out west on the open road. I’ll help drive it part of the way.”

  “I’m going,” Skittles said, and Beast didn’t say no.

  Gigi joined me, and I moved my hand around her back, grabbing her ass and not letting go. She whimpered, and I squeezed harder. “You and I are going to rock this bad boy,” I whispered.

  “Stimpy,” Beast said. “I need a hitch added to the back for a bike trailer. We’ll be pulling our bikes.” He noticed everyone standing around. “Get back to work.”

  “I appreciate it, brother,” I said. “I didn’t expect any help.”

  “This is what we do,” Beast said. “Get your shit packed and be back in the morning.”

  Beast left as the Rolls pulled through the open gates. A van followed, and six large men got out. They reminded me of a football defensive line. Charles exited the Rolls and approached, smug, badass-like.

  “Charles, go home,” Gigi said. “You don’t wanna do this. And take my father’s car back to him.”

  “I see you’re letting a woman speak for you now,” Douchebag said. “Maybe I shouldn’t have been fearful.”

  “Fearful?” I moved Gigi away. “I don’t think you understand, dipshit.” I pointed at the six men who had no idea what they were getting into. “You better take them back to their dorms before I send them back in body bags.”

  I heard the boots coming up behind me. Twelve club members stood by my side. The six men glanced at each other, reconsidering.

  “Go back inside,” I said. I removed my kutte and pulled on riding gloves.

  “Do as he said,” Beast said. He moved in front of me. “You sure about this?” I nodded. “Don’t kill any of them, but make sure they remember not to return.”

  “I got it, boss.”

  “What the fuck are you doing, Diesel?” Gigi asked. “You can’t fight them by yourself.”

  “Gigi,” Skittles said. “Come with me.”

  “Don’t, Diesel.” Gigi put her arm around mine, and Skittles pulled her away.

  The ringing in my ears started as I took a step forward. Then the voice began, telling me what to do, telling me the exact opposite of what Beast had said. The voice wanted all six men dead.

  “This is your last chance,” I said to the men. “Get your ass back into the van. It’s a bad day to die.”

  “What the fuck are you doing?” Charles chided the men as they walked back to the van. “I paid you! It’s one fucking man!”

  It’s one thing to think bikers are crazy motherfuckers. It’s an entirely different thing to find out for sure. The defensive linemen didn’t want to find out. I knew what they were thinking. The guy has to be one brick short of a load, thinking he could fight all of us. Yeah, I was a brick short, but I fucking knew I’d lay out all six men.

  “This isn’t over.”

  I had to give Charles his props. He stood his ground though terror marred his face. He wanted me to hit him. For some reason, he thought martyrdom was noble. Maybe Gigi would take him back if he showed me what kind of man he was. I understood. At sixteen, a boy at school kissed my girlfriend. The dickhead stood a good six inches taller than me and had at least a twenty-pound weight advantage. I told him to stay away from my girl. He told me to go to hell and landed his first punch. I went down and stayed down.