“So someone ripped off our feeds?” I’d been away too long and would have to insert myself back into every aspect of the club until things sorted themselves. Pussy was the club’s second-largest moneymaker behind Chaos Mods. We’d voted down getting into the porn business. So far.

  “No,” Ashtray said. He was the Prospect currently assigned to security. “We don’t record from that angle.”

  “Goddamnit,” I said, “are you telling me someone got into our rooms and installed their own shit?” I put my hand on Ashtray’s shoulder as I leaned forward again to look at the screen. He tensed up. “Relax. You ain’t done anything wrong. We’re sure as fuck going to figure it out, though.”

  “I can take a Prospect over and remove them.” TexMex started to leave.

  “No. Leave them for now.” I went outside, and TexMex followed. “Skittles and I are meeting Brainiac there in a few minutes. If we remove them, we may never find out who installed the damn things.”

  “What’s going on?” Skittles asked. Her tight jeans and small tee-shirt made me want to take her back inside.

  “Shit going on at the pussy house.” I climbed on my bike and handed Skittles a helmet. “We got a Peeping Tom filming the girls and their johns. Get on.”

  “I’ll get Ashtray to see if he can trace where the feeds are going. If they return to our server, we should be able to track the IPs to the machine getting the feeds.” TexMex was proud of himself.

  “I don’t know what all that shit means, but do what you gotta do.”

  Skittles and I pulled from the club and started toward the whorehouse. She needed something to do, and I needed to make sure someone wasn’t cooking the books. Whoever the son of bitch was making money off the club by recording the whores and the johns would have to fork over some serious cash before they died. Everything wasn’t hunky-dory while I was at Varner.

  Someone was sending me a message, and the message was that they could do whatever they wanted while I was away. If I went back to Varner, the club would no longer exist as it should. Whoever was doing these things to the club expected me to keep my nose clean and expected the club to pull out of the outlaw business. But that’s not how I or the club operated. Retribution had to be swift and brutal, just as we enjoyed it.

  At the whorehouse, Skittles and I waited until three in the morning for the last john to leave. Skittles spoke with the women before allowing them to go home. She took that upon herself, proving she was the obvious person for the job. I could put a club officer or Prospect in charge, but a man would do stupid things if he had this much pussy in front of him all day.

  “When do we stop the cameras, Brainiac.”

  “After the last john leaves. No need to film an empty room.”

  “That done here or back at the club?”

  “Here. It’s tied to the alarm system. When the last person leaves, they set the alarm, and the recordings switch off. When the first person arrives in the morning, they switch back on.” Brainiac tapped the keyboard on the desk, and the six screens in front of him lit up. “There’s two rooms on each screen.”

  I walked out to the lobby and set the alarm. Back in the office, I made Brainiac manually start the recordings. “Anyone else have access between the time the alarm sets and the time it’s turned off?”

  “Yeah.” Brainiac pointed at the screen. “That’s the cleaning guy. His code to get in doesn’t activate the recordings.”

  We watched the guy enter the building, disarm the alarm, and start work. He’d know he was being watched if he came to the office first. He went to the first room.

  “I’d be wearing a fucking hazmat suit in there,” I said.

  “They clean up,” Skittles said. “You make it sound like the women are a bunch of come dumpsters.”

  “They aren’t?”

  “Really? Now I see why you needed a woman’s touch with these girls.” Skittles watched the screens. “Can you zoom in on him?”

  Brainiac zoomed in on the guy when he entered the first room. The guy cleaned the beds, floors, and trashcan. He turned his head toward a corner of the room the camera couldn’t see. He walked in that direction, grabbed a chair, and stood on it. “He’s grabbing the hidden camera.”

  “This doesn’t explain why the books look off,” I said. “He might be doing this shit, but someone on the inside is still fucking with things.”

  “Look, he’s holding something. It’s a flash drive.” Brainiac zoomed closer. The guy stuck it in his pocket. “Should we go?”

  “Na. Let the asshole finish.” I watched the guy enter the second room. Something about the guy was off. “Where’d he come from?”

  Brainiac typed something into his laptop, and the guy’s picture appeared. “He was hired through the city’s job opportunities program. Says he has a learning disability.”

  “You can’t hurt him,” Skittles said. “He doesn’t even know what he’s doing.”

  I watched the man clean each room. I wouldn’t hurt him. I knew his type very well. I knew what happened to his types when they tried to live with “normal” people. He was lucky that he made it this long in life and was allowed to work. Pete, my younger brother, wasn’t so fortunate. When I was in high school, Pete was in middle school. The school had a unique program for kids like Pete. It allowed him to do everything the other kids did: ride the school bus, attend a regular school, and walk the same halls. However, the program didn’t ensure kids like Pete were protected while walking the halls.

  A gang of bullies coaxed Pete to a vacant part of the school. It started as just kids playfully harassing a less fortunate kid. Then the dares started. Dare you to spit on him. Dare you to kick him. Dare you to cut him with a knife. Dare you to put a plastic bag over his head. And then Pete was dead. The high school and middle school sat right next to each other. Another group of kids found Pete, and word spread quickly, even to the high school.

  I was in the cafeteria when another student whispered that Pete was dead. That’s how I found out—a goddamn whisper in my ear. I bolted from the cafeteria and ran to the middle school. The police were pulling into bus drop-off when I arrived. I cut behind the school and climbed through a busted window. The principal stood over Pete’s body. He said some nasty things about Pete. The principal wasn’t happy having the program at his school.

  The principal turned when he heard me drop onto the floor. He stepped away from Pete, backpedaling. He knew I’d heard. He had no remorse. I hit the motherfucker hard. He wasn’t expecting it, so I hit him squarely. The police entered as he hit the floor. I was taken away in cuffs, screaming for my dead brother. That’s when I started paying attention to Kickstand. That’s when I knew the biker life was for me.

  “Marcus. Marcus?”

  I turned to Skittles.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “The guy doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing.” I walked to the door. “He’s working for someone smarter than him. Let him finish his job, and I’ll tell him the night’s over. You two stay put. I’m gonna follow him and see where he takes the drives.”

  Before following the guy outside, I waited until all the rooms were cleaned and flash drives collected. I gave him twenty bucks for doing a good job and waited for him to leave.

  “Marcus.”

  “What the fuck are you doing here.” She was the last person I thought I’d ever see in Pine Bluff again.

  “I told you I’d be back, Marcus.” Donna got off my bike and passed the guy leaving. “The hired help is certainly going downhill.”

  “I don’t have time for your shit, Donna.” I climbed on the bike and started the engine. Donna tried to talk, and I made the bike roar. When the engine idled, Donna pulled a picture from her purse. She had a knack for the dramatic.

  “Maybe you have time for this?” She handed me the picture, crossed her arms, and awaited a response.

  “The fuck are you trying to pull, Donna.” I watched the cleaning guy pull away in his van. In the picture stood a woman—Donna—and a ten or eleven-year-old boy. “Who’s the kid?”

  Donna put her hand on mine. “His name is Mark. He’s your son.”

  I climbed off the bike, still holding the picture, making sure the motorcycle stayed between Donna and me. “What the fuck are you talking about? We didn’t have a kid.”

  “The night before the divorce was final, you were drunk when you came out of Ashcan. Remember that?” She came around the bike and looked at the picture, smiling. I did remember. Ashcan is the club’s main hangout outside the clubhouse. It’s on the edge of town and close enough to the club that when shit went down, we were close enough to take care of it. “He’s a handsome young man.”

  “Why are you bringing this shit to me now?” I walked to Donna’s car. “Where’s the kid?”

  “At the Holiday Inn.” She joined me next to the car. “He wants to meet you.”

  “Goddamnit, Donna. Why now?” I went back to the bike and climbed on. “Why not ten years ago when the kid was born?”

  “With you, nothing is ever a good time, Marcus.” She moved to within inches of my face, and it was all I could do not to backhand her. I didn’t hit women, but she was making it damn hard not to start. “It’s always about the fucking club!”

  “You knew that shit before you got involved, so don’t bring your pity party shit to me now. You knew what this life was like. I told you. You saw it for yourself.” I started the bike again.

  “What’s going on?” Skittles asked as she and Brainiac came outside. Fuck, she was pissed.

  “Fucking great.” I looked at Brainiac, and he shrugged. He wouldn’t have been able to keep her inside anyway.

  “Who the hell is this bitch?” Skittles asked. The thing about being an old lady is you either quickly learned how to defend yourself and your territory or you got run the fuck over. Skittles had made it clear to every club member and every club member’s wife she wasn’t getting run over.

  Donna put her hands on her hips and kicked a hip to the side. Donna was twenty years older than Skittles, but I had Skittles in a throw-down. “I’m Donna.” I never told Skittles about Donna. “His ex-old lady.” She curled her upper lip at Skittles. “You must be the young pussy I heard about. You sucking his dick like a good old lady?” She turned to me, and I was not in the mood for anything else.

  Skittles rested her elbow on my shoulder. “She’s a skank,” Skittles said, and I groaned.

  Donna came over the bike and grabbed a handful of Skittle’s hair. “Cheap little whore!”

  “Fuck, Brainiac, grab one of them.”

  Luckily, Brainiac went after Donna, leaving me the cat scratching Skittles. Both women came away with a handful of hair. Donna had three claw marks down her left cheek. Skittles had won.

  “I’m not leaving town, Marcus. Your Goddamn son is here to stay.” She spat at Skittles. “This is far from over, whore.”

  Skittles tried to break away. “Smelly ass cunt. I’ll cut your saggy tits off and feed them to you.”

  Donna moved her tongue around inside her mouth, a disgusting habit she had when she knew she’d gotten under someone’s skin. “Be seeing you around, sweet cheeks.” Donna climbed into her car and drove away. Exes were never really gone. They were shadows waiting for daylight.

  “You have a son?” Skittles stood in front of the bike. I couldn’t tell if it was indifference or sadness on her face.

  “That’s what I’m told.” I showed her the picture. “Good looking kid.”

  Skittles took the picture and shook her head. “Luckily, he didn’t get the skank’s looks.” She returned the picture, and I stuffed it in my kutte.

  “You okay?”

  “You mean about meeting that skank or you having a kid?” Skittles gave me a little smile. We both knew she didn’t have a choice. She was a fighter. If Donna wanted a fight, she was fucking with the wrong old lady.

  “Get on. I’ll get the cleaning guy tomorrow night. Too much shit going on, and I’ve only been out two days. Brainiac, I’m sure he replaced the flash drives. Pull the new ones and change the guys fucking code to get inside.” I was out of prison for only two days, and I was the father of a ten-year-old. It had been the fastest pregnancy in history. I hoped he liked bikes.

  “Blow job will solve all your problems.” Skittles grabbed my dick. “I’m sure I can do better than that old bitch. Unless, of course, her front teeth are removable.”

  I pulled away from the whorehouse with more problems than I had when I arrived. A son? Life was less complicated in Varner. And why now? Donna didn’t just show up out of the blue. She wanted something. Money? Child support? What was her game?

  4

  Skittles

  Marcus left me in the clubhouse’s main gathering area, where most everyone was passed out in various uncouth positions and locations. I was only concerned about three people, and none of the three were in the room.

  Diesel appeared from the hallway leading to the officers’ rooms. He was zipping his jeans and carrying his shirt. He wasn’t Marcus but built like a beast. He pulled on the shirt and stopped at the bar. He pulled a sleeping whore off a stool, laid her on the floor, and sat. I walked behind the bar and grabbed him a beer.

  “Gigi back there with you?” Elbows on the table, I leaned forward. I knew she was back there by how he walked down the hall. Diesel was a persistent man, and I never knew him not to get what he wanted. “She’s getting married in six months. I think you should know that.”

  Diesel killed half the beer and put it down. “She didn’t mention it. But she was face down so much I may not have heard her.” He looked into my eyes. “You and I know she won’t marry this asshole after being with me. She’ll go home tomorrow but will be back, and I don’t mean in a month. She’ll be back by next weekend.”

  “Damn, Diesel. You know she’s not the club type. She’ll get scared and run off and not be back. She’s not the typical girl you bang.”

  “You don’t get it, Skittles. You know how good pussy can make a man do fucked up things? Dick is the same way for a woman.” He laughed and sat back. “This dick,” he pointed at his crotch, “makes them come back.” He wagged his finger. “I’m not feeding my ego, Skittles. I’m speaking from experience. That’s why we have that big fucking gate around the property, to keep them out.”

  I leaned against the bar behind me, grabbing my beer. “She’s my friend. I don’t want her to get hurt emotionally or physically. If she does come back, you better treat her right.”

  “You don’t want her seeing a biker.” Diesel got up and started outside. I caught up when he got on his bike.

  “This is what I mean, Diesel. She’s in there wiped out, and you’re on your bike getting ready to leave her.” I blocked his bike.

  “Beast left you the first time,” he said. “And what happened? You came to the club looking for him.” He put his helmet on. “She’ll be able to walk in the morning. I didn’t give her the full throttle.”

  Diesel had a way of making women smile even when he wasn’t intending to. He'd be unanimously voted in when his membership vote came up next month.

  “You’re a good man,” I said. “Thank you for taking good care of her. Why do you have that look on your face?”

  “You need to know a few things about your friend, Skittles. She ain’t getting married in six months after the fuck she just had. I tell you that again so y’all can stop planning. She also said his dick was half the size of mine.” He laughed and started the bike. “But I hear that a lot.”

  “Okay. I’m glad that’s all,” I said. I’d been an old lady too long to blush.

  “That’s not all. Gigi’s a squirter.” He laughed again. “She’ll need to clean that shit up before she leaves.”

  Diesel rode away and held up two fingers, making the peace sign when he passed through the open gate.

  Back inside, I found Gigi naked, a massive load of come on her stomach, lying in a large wet spot. I watched her for a long time because, in a way, she reminded me of me. Diesel was right. She would be back. “Gigi. Gigi.”

  She rolled onto her stomach and moaned. Each ass cheek had Diesel’s handprint. She wasn’t bleeding, which was a good sign.

  “She okay?” Marcus asked. He leaned against the door, filling the doorway. The light in the hallway hit him just right, illuminating a strong chin but casting a shadow across his eyes. Large arms crossed, his jeans were snug but not tight. He had an ass most men wished for, but few would ever have. Even a woman liked a nice ass on a man. I once asked if I could peg him. He told me it was an exit-only tunnel.

  “I think so.”

  “You seem surprised that she hooked up with Diesel.”

  “That part doesn’t surprise me. The part where she’s willing to give up everything she’s worked for, that part surprises me.” I brushed the hair away from my face. “Her father finds out what’s going on, and he’ll have the locals on the club’s ass.”

  “I can take care of that.” Marcus came closer, standing behind me. He put his arms around my shoulders. “You did the same, Melissa. You took a chance. Walked away from family and dreams. Do you regret it?”

  “I don’t and never have.”

  “Something else is bothering you. Your eye’s twitching.”

  “Donna isn’t going away. I get that you have a kid. I’m okay with that. But this bitch is going to be part of our lives.” I moved away from Marcus and sat on the bed beside GiGi, still sleeping. I’d run other women away from Marcus. Beat the shit out of a few. Donna was different. Their son connected them. “I need to find Carmen and Wendy.”

  “I’m taking Big Kentucky, TexMex, and Cinder to check out Willie’s.” Marcus walked back to the door, disappointment clearly on his face. “This discussion isn’t over.” He nodded at Gigi. “She needs a shower.” He left, and I leaned against the bed’s headboard. As great as it initially sounded, I wasn’t sure I wanted any of my friends in the biker lifestyle.