Blood & Bones: Whip (Blood Fury MC 11)

He’d never spent a day in jail and he preferred to keep it that way. Plus, if he lost his license for being careless and getting popped with a DUI… His whole life would crumble. It would hinder his ability to ride and his ability to work. But more importantly, he’d be hauling precious cargo on the back of his sled after tonight’s “date.”

Yeah, fuck that. It wasn’t worth the risk.

He used to drink here when Pete was alive, at the time not having any fucking clue that Pete had been an Original or that the late bar owner’s past and Whip’s future would cross because of the Blood Fury.

Too bad Pete was no longer around to see his first grandbaby. Or to see the resurrected club Trip had built back up better than ever.

“Do I hear a live band?” she asked not even a few steps down the hallway.

“Yep,” he answered. The farther they walked, the louder it got.

Dodge and Stella normally didn’t book bands for any other nights other than Friday and Saturday, but with Dodge’s ol’ lady being the lead singer of her own band, The Synners tended to play some Thursday nights when their new manager didn’t have them booked elsewhere.

It was a good way for them to practice, work on new covers, work on some original songs and, even better, bring in extra scratch for the bar. A win-win all the way around.

It didn’t hurt that Syn was fucking good.

Better than good.

Her band could be a thousand times better if she did what her manager suggested and replace them. She refused and, luckily, the Dirty Deeds manager still took them on solely due to Syn’s talent and not the rest of them.

Sig’s sister was okay with not getting some big recording contract now that she had Dodge as her ol’ man and, more importantly, she’d been reunited with her daughter Maya.

Maya needed stability and without a doubt, Syn’s nine-year-old was more important to her than making it big.

As they emerged from the hallway into the bar area, Fallon stopped short, her head automatically swiveling toward the low stage in the back corner. “Wow, she’s really good. Her voice is… amazing. Impressive.” She rubbed her arms. “She’s giving me goosebumps.”

Yeah, Syn’s voice did that to most of them. When she sang, it was like she trapped everyone within hearing distance in a web, making it hard to pull free.

Whip stepped up behind Fallon, rubbed her upper arms for her, and leaned in so he didn’t have to yell. “She’s got that power.”

“Does that band play here often?” She didn’t pull away from his touch, but instead, slightly leaned back into him.

Her doing that made him believe she trusted him and that meant more than she’d know.

If he was lucky, maybe she’d only want to stick around for one beer and then they could go somewhere more quiet and private. “Just about every week. Syn’s part of the Fury, too.”

She glanced over her shoulder at him, her Caribbean blue eyes wide. “She is?”

“Yeah. Her brother’s our VP and her ol’ man’s the dark-haired guy over there behind the bar.”

Fallon glanced over toward Dodge, currently hustling to help Dozer and Woody serve customers. The Thursday night crowd was a lot bigger now than it used to be. All due to The Synners.

“I see he’s wearing one of those cuts, too.”

“Yeah. He’s one of my brothers. Can’t see him from here, but Scar, the scary-looking dude standing at the door’s one of our prospects. Dozer and Woody, the two guys behind the bar helping Dodge, are patched members, too.”

“So, wait…” She turned to face him. “You said this wasn’t a biker bar.”

“It ain’t. Stella’s father was an Original and ran it forever before he passed. Now she owns half and the club owns the other half but since she’s the prez’s ol’ lady, that pretty much means the club owns the whole thing.”

“What’s an Original? I saw that patch on the motel manager’s cut.”

“Someone who belonged to the Fury back in the beginning.” That was the easiest way to put it. “Dutch is an Original. He was a part of the Fury since practically day one.”

“Ozzy was, too?”

“Ozzy joined later, but was still a part of the original Blood Fury.”

“Are there any others?”

“No. That’s it.”

“Where did the rest of them go?”

He had to tread carefully. “The original club just fell apart and everyone scattered. Trip, the son of the original president, built it back up from scratch. Besides the two Originals, some of the current members are second generation Fury and some are first, like me.”

“Interesting,” she murmured. “I find all of this fascinating. It’s not just some casual club where you guys simply hang out. It’s structured like a business organization. Reilly was telling me about the by-laws and executive committee. And while that’s fascinating, too, the fact that your club owns businesses to bring in money like an enterprising empire… I’m actually really impressed. So far, what I’ve seen between the garage, the motel and this bar, they’re successful businesses.”