Rough Ride (Men of Valor MC)

Malcolm kneeled down so that he could look her directly in the eyes. "Sky, I'm gonna go. Isla and Claire are going to help you for the night. Don’t be scared. This is a safe place. There’s even security guards. I'll be back first thing in the morning to see you, ok?"

"Ok," Skye whispered. Tears welled in her eyes and I felt like I was watching a tragic goodbye.

Malcolm took her hand, and I saw him squeeze it, a simple gesture of support. But it obviously meant so much to her. She looked up at him adoringly.

"Lala, I'm going to head home and shower, get my ass to work. I’ll be at the club tonight if y’all need anything, and I'll be back first thing tomorrow morning to check on Sky, see how you all are doing."

"Sounds good. Malcolm," Isla said, waving her hand, the black card still in it. "Thanks again for this. We’ll put it to good use, I promise."

Chapter 3

Malcolm

The drive to the clubhouse after work was peaceful, no side of the road crimes to intervene on. The roads were clear, and the city was humming quietly. I should have been going home to get some rest, but I wanted to check on Patriot and see what happened to the scum bag. I didn’t care if the asshole was dead or alive, but I needed to make sure the MC was protected, I did spend half my life as a JAG lawyer after all.

I got to the club and parked my bike beside the three others already there. The club was housed in a huge warehouse building surrounded by fifty acres of land. A few of the guys had houses on the property. It was a compound and although I didn’t want to live there, it was one of my favorite places to be.

The lights in the place were dim, and it was unusually quiet. Blaring music was the norm and so was the occasional bar fight. I was glad there wasn't a party in full effect with the club whores. I wasn't in the mood to deal with those girls, or the drunk ass club members they hung all over. I didn't have an issue with the girls or the guys or what they did. They were consenting adults, but club girls weren't my thing. I wasn't looking to bust a nut with some random hookup. As a matter of fact, I’d never been into casual sex and was probably because of the trauma I’d endured as a kid. Sure, I liked women as much as the next guy, but I preferred to be in a real relationship with a woman and not some dirty bar hook-up.

Busting through the doors to the lounge, I entered the largest room in the place. We had pool tables and dining areas scattered around the room, in addition to a small stage, a full service bar, and televisions and couches, too. I spotted Patriot sitting at the bar, a beer in his hand as he watched a ball game. I liked Patriot enough. He was a decent guy who would have been a good soldier. The poor kid was deaf in one ear, so that dream went up in smoke. Patriot did the next best thing, joined an MC that served and protected the community in some way. He liked to help people, but he wasn’t going to make it in the armed services or as a cop. I knew there was a story there, but he'd never told me, and I didn't press him. Some members were private, others were an open book. I fell somewhere in between, but I had to really know someone to open up. God knew I had my own demons that still tormented me on the regular. I had no right asking anyone to bare theirs when I wouldn't bare my own.

"Who's winning?" I asked. Walking behind the bar, I grabbed a beer before I sat down on the stool beside him.

"The Cubs," he said, not taking his eyes off the screen.

"What did you do with that guy? The piece of shit from yesterday?”

Patriot turned to me, a mischievous smile on his face. "What’s a’ matter? Don't trust me, Miller?"

"Jury’s still out on that one." I slapped his back. "It's why you're still wearing that patch on your cut."

"Touché." He tipped his bottle toward mine before taking another gulp. "I dropped him at the hospital. Let him know who he'd be messing with if he opened his goddamn mouth. I also told him if he touched another girl against her will, I'd come over to cut his dick off and feed it to him."

I clanked the neck of my bottle to his and gave him a quick nod.

"Hey, Rough, what’s up?" Tommy, one of the visiting Nomad's, walked out of the back, wearing no shirt and clasping his pants. A blond girl walked out behind him. Her hair was a mess, makeup smeared on her face, and her clothes left little to the imagination. Typical club girl. Kind of like groupies, but they screamed and fainted less.