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The Biker's Baby (Royal Bastards MC: Charleston, WV 10)

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“The fuck is he doing here?” I stare Static down. He showed up not long after Hallow left us. He’s the stupid fuck who was running his mouth about Karam in church. The asshole Viking laid out for disrespecting his sister.

“I can help. They don’t know me in Wilmington.”

I don’t want to admit it, but he’s got a point.

Viking lifts his chin. “You want to help now? Thought you said we had no business getting mixed up in Harlot business.”

“Those cunts fucked me over. Let my personal shit get to me.”

There’s some honesty. “So what now? You want some revenge?”

“I’m looking for someone.”

“You just said these bitches don’t know you?”

“I said in Wilmington.” He stares me down.

“We don’t have time for this. Every second we stand here with you is a second Karma slips further away.”

“Then let’s get on the road.”

“Still don’t like you.”

“I’ll cry into my leathers about it later.” He snorts.

“Right. Let’s do this then.”

Viking, myself, Static, and Smoke ride out.


Wilmington, NC

“What brings you boys to town?” Mona leans over the bar, pushing her tits out, playing dumb.

Bet she was pretty before she was ridden hard and hung up wet. Years of living on the edge have taken their toll. Wrinkles grooved deep around her lips and eyes. Cunt is haggard now. Karma wouldn’t be in the grips of that piece of shit if it wasn’t for her stupid ass. Sanchez isn’t the first to try and pull our club into the skin trading business but tonight we’ll send a message that we aren’t to be fucked with and that the Royal Bastards MC of Charleston, WV don’t do business with scum who hurt women and children. We have a code. One Mona should be abiding.

“Need you to set a meeting with your boss.”

She smirks. “Only person I answer to is me, myself, and I.”

I push up from my seat and wrap a fist around her throat.

Her bitches pull their guns at the same time as Viking and Smoke. Static is hanging back, pretending he’s not affiliated. “Cut the shit. I know you’re in deep with the Sanchez Cartel. Don’t forget your place and where your loyalties should lay. Your pussy club wouldn’t exist without our blessing. You’re only breathing because I need you alive.” I loosen my grip, careful not to crush her windpipe. Normally I’d feel guilty handling a woman this way. But not this bitch. She thinks she has a dick bigger than mine, so I’ll treat her accordingly.

“Call off your dogs.”

“Call off your bitches and let’s solve both our problems and take this motherfucker out.”

“It’s cool,” she tells her enforcers.

I don’t trust her. Karma says she’s dirty. Getting into the skin trade isn’t what we’re about. It goes against everything we stand for. We may be outlaws, but we don’t fucking sell people to the highest bidder. We’re no fucking saints but that’s a game we’ll never play.

“Asshole has Karma and probably your girl Rosie too.”

“I’m aware. Rosie made moves behind my back. Told him to keep the bitch.”

“And Karma?”

“I’m sure we can reach an agreement agreeable to all parties.”

The only thing that’ll satisfy me is killing him, but I don’t voice that thought. My face does the talking for me. “Call him. Tell him the Royal Bastards want to make a deal.”

Only deal we’ll be making is with the devil when I send him straight to hell.



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