Old Lady/Ol’ Lady – Wife or steady girlfriend of a club member. Has nothing to do with her age.
Out Bad – The shorthand way of saying a club member has been kicked out of the club for some kind of betrayal. Someone who is “out bad” might be in hiding from the club.
Patched In – When a new member is approved for full membership.
Patch Holder – A member who has been vetted through performing duties for the club as a prospect or probate and has earned his three-piece patch.
Property Patch – When a member takes a woman as his Old Lady (wife status), he gives her a vest with a property patch. In my series, the vest has a “Property of Lost Kings MC” patch and the member’s road name on the back. The officers also place their patches on the ol’ lady’s vest as a sign they have agreed to always have her back. Her man’s patch or club symbol is placed over the heart.
Road Name – Nickname. Usually given by the other members.
RUB – Slang for Rich Urban Biker. A term generally used by real bikers to describe a person who rides an expensive motorcycle on weekends and never very far. A poser.
Run – A club sanctioned outing sometimes with other chapters and/or clubs. Can also refer to a club business run.
DEDICATION
Never expect loyalty from people who can’t give you honesty.
CHAPTER ONE
“Would you put your damn phone away before you get us into an accident,” Murphy scolds from the passenger seat of my truck.
“Shut up. The light’s red. I’m worried about Charlotte. Haven’t heard from her all day.”
“You think hanging out with Alexa last weekend scared her away?”
I snort. Doubt it. Charlotte eased right into helping me care for Alexa. Been thinking all sorts of things that are way too soon to be thinking about ever since. “No,” I finally answer.
“Well, I need your full attention tonight.” He motions toward the green light and lets out an exasperated snort.
“You got it.” He’s right. Time to pull my head out of my ass now. Worry about Charlotte later. “She’s probably just catching up on work from last week.” While she never came right out and said it, I’m pretty sure she rearranged her schedule to help me out. Something I both appreciated and felt guilty about.
“Do you want my opinion?” Murphy asks.
“Not really.”
He chuckles. “Tough. Brace yourself.”
When I let out a short laugh, he continues, “You don’t want to admit it, but you need a chick who sets boundaries.”
“You think that’s what she’s doing?”
“I mean, she’s a strong chick who isn’t afraid to say no to you.”
“And that’s a good thing?”
“Yes.”
It’s true. She’s sweet as hell, but she’s got a fiery temper and not afraid to call me out when I’m being a dick. Even more, she listens and wants to know why I’m such a moody jerk.
“This is real. Otherwise, you’re taking a huge risk for just a fuck.”
I reach over and punch him. “She’s not—”
“I didn’t say she was.”
“She’s feisty when she wants to be.”
“Yeah, I figured. That’s why when you finally own her ass, it’s—”
“Different.” I understand what he’s getting at. Bunnies are good for a quick release. For fun. But they can’t keep my interest, and they don’t give a shit about who I am beyond my place in the club.
“Better than anything you had before,” he says with absolute authority.
“What would you know about it? You look at Heidi and she fuckin’ jumps.”
Should’ve thought that one through because I don’t really want an answer.
Glancing over, I see he’s wearing the smirk that suggests I’d rather not know what he’s thinking. “Trust me, your sister has no problem expressing herself.”
I snort and shake my head. An evil thought enters my brain and immediately leaves my mouth. “Fuck, she doesn’t make you get on all fours and bark like a dog, does she?”
His laughter fills the truck cab and he punches my arm. “No, you creepy-ass perv. Where do you come up with this shit?”
This is too good not to keep poking at him. “Does she make you wear a bear costume?” I tap my finger against my cheek and pretend to consider it. “Because I can kind of see her doing that.”
He’s laughing so hard, I barely make out the, “You’re such a dick,” he sputters at me.
“What I was trying to explain—before you shared all the disgusting thoughts in your warped head,” he says after he stops laughing, “is you still think of her as a bratty little kid. Not a woman who knows her own mind.”
“No, I don’t.”
In a quieter voice, he adds, “I’m not taking advantage of her.”
“Hey, I don’t think that at all.”
“Okay,” he says, before turning to stare out the window. “I missed this.”
“What?”
“Joking around with you.” He runs his palms over his jeans a few times before continuing. “I’m so sorry I didn’t go with you guys that day.” His somber tone is weighed down with guilt and it brings me right back to the darkest parts of the last few months.
The darkness Charlotte’s helped me crawl out of without even realizing it.
I swallow hard. I could’ve lost him too if he’d been there. “I’m not mad at you,” I finally say.
“You asked me to go with you, and I should have. I knew—”
“I don’t blame you or anything stupid like that.” Never once have I thought Mariella’s death was anyone else’s fault but mine.
“Well, Heidi and me together hasn’t helped. I don’t—”
“I’m not mad at you about that either.”
“You’re not?” he asks, sounding genuinely surprised.
“She’s my baby sister. I don’t want her with anyone. And you’re my best friend. It was a little weird for me.”
“It’s not about you,” he says quietly.
“Yeah, I get that. It’s not that I think you two shouldn’t be together. I trust you to take care of her.” He doesn’t say anything, so I keep going. “I’m sorry I didn’t take you seriously when you tried to tell me how you felt about her.”
“You wanted her out of the life,” he guesses. “Away from the MC.”
“I used to feel that would be the best thing for her.”
“I understand that,” he says slowly. “But the club’s her family too. Lost Kings run through her blood, same as ours. Why is that so bad?”
“You know the risks we take,” I explain. “I’m driving you to an illegal, underground fight for fuck’s sake.”
“This is nothing new. She’s aware of the risks.” He holds up a hand, cutting off any protest from me. “Maybe not details, but she’s not stupid.”
“I know.”
“I’ll bust my ass to make her happy and give her whatever she wants. And at least I know if something ever happens to me, the club will take care of her.”
I blow out a breath. “Yeah.”
“Thanks for helping us go on that trip, by the way. We always talked about something like that. It was nice to finally be able to go.”
“Always? You’ve been together for a few months.”
He lets out another exasperated huff. “You realize, she was my friend first, right? We used to talk about road trips and all sorts of shit.” He shakes his head and stares out the window. “We were planning to do a spring break run before she got pregnant.”
“You what? Really?”
His voice takes on a sharper edge. “You seem to have this notion that she’s with me by default or I’m with her out of some twisted obligation.” I catch him smirking at me from the corner of my eye. “It’s starting to hurt my feelings, bro.”
I hesitate, because even though he’s trying to make a joke, I think he meant what he said. “I don’t think that, Blake.” “Sure, okay.” He’s quiet again for a few minutes. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around more. All this stuff with the gym and the house and—”
“I’m happy for you, brother.”
“That the gym I was about to buy into burned down?”
“No, you asshole. Come on, once everything’s sorted out it’s gonna be huge.”
“Thanks.” After a few minutes, he chuckles. “So, bear costumes, huh? What kind of fucked up shit are you into?”
His phone goes off and he checks the text. “That’s a relief,” he says. “Ruthless backed out.”
“Who?”
“Remy Holt. I actually like the kid. Wasn’t looking forward to kicking his ass in front of his whole crew.”
“You going soft on me?”
“That’s what she said.”
Laughter busts out of me at the stupid joke. “I walked right into that.”
“Yeah, you did.”
“You nervous?” I ask.
“Nah.”
“Who’d they replace him with?”
Another text comes in. “Don’t recognize the name,” he mumbles, tapping his phone. “Trying to look him up.” After a few minutes, he gives up and sets the phone down. “Not much on him.”
“Great. He’s probably some big Russian dude built like a tank.”
He holds out his arms, stretching to my side of the truck. “I ain’t exactly small, bro.”
Slapping his arm out of my way, I laugh. “I’m well aware.”
We rag on each other all the way to the old warehouse where the fight’s being held. “Why are these things always in abandoned warehouses?” I ask, turning off the truck.
“Because we have so many around here?” Murphy offers. “This isn’t the same crowd that used to show up for Wrath’s fights. Still illegal as fuck, but at least they have some rules. Guy who runs it is solid.”
“If that’s supposed to reassure me, it doesn’t.”
“Teller, look at me.” I meet his steady green eyes, and there isn’t even a hint of fear in them. “I got this.”
“I know you do, brother.”
We meet Ravage in the parking lot and he slaps Murphy on the back a few times. “Ready, killer?”
“Fuck yeah.”
Murphy wasn’t lying. While the set-up is similar, it’s not the same bloodthirsty crowd I’m used to. The people in attendance are younger but seem to have a lot of cash to throw around.
We check Murphy in and he’s ushered into the back to wait his turn. Ravage and I watch the group of fighters for a few seconds, neither of us comfortable leaving Murphy alone and unprotected.
Murphy flashes us a thumbs up and waves us away.
Ironically, the kid he’s fighting is actually Russian. A tall lanky guy they call Frogfoot.
“Not exactly terrifying,” I mutter to Ravage.
“I’ve seen him before,” Ravage says, as we find a spot up front. “He’s quick. Jumps around a lot. Like a fuckin’ frog.”
Ravage and I stand shoulder to shoulder right outside the ring. He keeps his arms folded over his chest and his eyes moving over the crowd. Our combined size is enough to keep people away from us. We’re both ready to pounce should things get out of control.
I don’t trust these people to keep the fight honest, no matter what Murphy said. And fuck, if anyone dares mess with my brother, I’ll kill them myself.
Surveying the warehouse, I lean over to Ravage. “How many exits you see?”
He tilts his head toward the back corners. “Three closest ones. Three more up front, but the whole place has broken windows and cracks wide enough to slip through.”
“Fantastic, hopefully it doesn’t crumble down on top of us tonight.”
He barks out a laugh. “You sound like Rock.”
Before I can respond to that, a tall, built kid comes over, holding out his hand. “You Teller?”
“Yeah,” I answer slowly.
“Griff Royal.” We shake hands, and he doesn’t engage in any macho-posturing-bullshit.
“Stonewall, right?” Ravage asks.
Griff nods. “I’m not going in the ring tonight, though.” He faces me again. “My buddy Remy wanted to apologize for backing out last minute.”
Kid doesn’t look like a biker, but he shows respect like one, which is unusual.
“It’s all good,” I say. “Murphy’s got a lot of respect for Remy. Said he wasn’t looking forward to beating him on his home turf.”
Griff throws back his head and laughs. “Sounds like Murphy.”
“While you’re here, is Remy aware some guy tried to bring his sister to one of our clubhouse parties?” I ask. “Murphy shut that down.”
A dark look crosses Griff’s face. “No. He’s not. I’ll handle it.”
Maybe I should’ve kept that to myself.
“Anyway,” Griff says, shaking off his tense expression. “They’re both signed up for another fight in a couple months. Maybe they’ll get matched up then.”
We shake hands again, and he strides back into the crowd. I’m not sure who he is in this particular underground circle, but people sure as fuck move out of his way when they see him coming.
“Motherfucker,” I grumble under my breath. Murphy said this was his last fight. He better pray Frogfoot doesn’t rough him up too much, ’cause I’m gonna kick his fucking ass for lying to me.
Finally, Murphy struts out, all furrowed brows and single-minded focus. I don’t wave or do anything stupid to distract him.
The hairs on the back of my neck rise as the fight starts. Frogfoot is aptly named and his quick jumping style lands him a few punches. One fist to Murphy’s stomach and one to the face.
But that’s it.
Murphy shakes it off and backs up a few steps before going after Frogfoot. Like a machine, he hammers a sequence of punches to his opponent’s stomach, side, and finally his face.
The last one puts the kid down and he stays down.
The crowd erupts in an explosion of shouting and cheering, rushing toward the ring.
From where I’m standing, I’m able to see the kid I talked to earlier, Griff, hand Murphy a wad of cash. Then, Murphy’s on the move, throwing on his sweatshirt and picking up his bag from the side of the ring. He moves past the girls who approach him without a second glance.
“Holy fuck. Nice work!” Ravage shouts.
“Turn your slips in?” Murphy asks us.
“Doing it on our way out.” I glance back at the crowd. “You staying for any other fights?”
Murphy doesn’t even hesitate. “Nah, I wanna get home.”
We start moving toward the exit and I duck over to the window to collect our cash.
Outside, Ravage takes his share of the winnings and slaps us each on the shoulder. “See you back at the clubhouse?”
Murphy chuckles. “Yeah, I definitely need to stop there before I go home.”
“Speaking of lying,” I say on the way to the truck.
“What’s that?” Murphy asks.
“Had a chat with your buddy Griff. Says you’ve got another fight lined up.”
I let that hang in the air while we get in the truck and I start it up.
We’re on the highway when Murphy finally answers my question.
“The fight’s a couple months away. If this went well, I was going to drop it.”
“Good.”
He sits back and closes his eyes.
I glance over. “You all right?”
“Yeah.” He lets out a sigh and keeps his eyes shut. “Just want to get home and see my girls.”
“How you planning to explain your face?”
Murphy waves me off, then winces. “I’ll clean up at the clubhouse.”
Even though I’m mad at him, his silence bugs me. “How you feeling?”
“Rough.” He sits up, shifting in his seat. “Been slacking in my workouts. Going from a week-long run straight to the ring wasn’t my smartest idea.”
“Ya think?”
By the time we get home, he’s vibrating with energy again, bouncing around the yard, pretending to spar with Ravage. “I really think I have one more in me. You know? Especially if I train right.”
“You won this one,” I say, shaking my head. “Go out on top.”
“Yeah, but—”
“Why don’t you worry about recovering from this fight first.” Because I’m a dick, I poke him in the side. “I think you might have a cracked rib.”
“Ow, you fuck.” He gives me a solid punch to the arm.
“Damn, brother. Thought you were all tapped out.”
“Don’t test me right now. I got enough adrenaline left in me to fuck you up before I pass out.”
Ravage snorts and slaps Murphy’s back. “Sex will help calm you down.”
I throw a punch at Rav to shut him up. That’s the last image I want in my head. “Knock it off, fucker.”
Unfortunately for Murphy, my sister’s waiting for him in the clubhouse. “Fuck,” he mutters under his breath as soon as he sees her.
“Busted.” I snicker, not at all embarrassed that I’m acting like a ten-year-old. I’ve known Blake since I was ten, so it’s normal.
“Oh my God, Blake.” Heidi rushes over to us, grabbing Murphy’s arm. “What the hell happened?”
“Nothing. I’m fine.”
“He won, lil’ sis. That’s all you need to know.”
She glares at me and plants her fist on her hip. “You knew about this?”
“Club business,” I growl at her. Anger screws up her face and I square my shoulders. “Don’t you dare slap me. You got away with it once ’cause I was being an asshole. Don’t try it again.”
“Hey,” Murphy snaps, slapping my arm. “Watch it.”
“Where’s Alexa?”
My sister has the nerve to roll her eyes at my question before pointing upstairs.
“Why you over here, beautiful?” Murphy asks.
She turns her glare on him. “I was all by myself over there.” She bites her lip. “I came over to help Swan with a few things.” Her voice turns hard again. “I didn’t know you were off getting the crap beaten out of you.”
He reaches out, taking Heidi’s hands. “I’m fine. Come take care of me.”