Bred by the MC VP (Breeding Season 6)

She didn’t give him a chance to speak. “Promise me you won’t tell Forge I talked to you.”

He nodded without a second thought.

“Sable called me. They’re having a party at Grass’s country club tonight. She’s scared.”

“Why didn’t you tell Forge?”

“You know he puts the club first, but Sable’s my friend. You care about her, too. I know what’s going on, Dog.”

He ground his teeth hard. Beth wasn’t supposed to know about this. If Forge found out Sable talked to his old lady about their secret plans, he’d never let her back in the club. Loyalty had to come first.

“Okay. I’ll deal with this. Keep your mouth shut if you care about Sable. Forge isn’t a forgiving man.”

She swallowed hard but nodded her agreement.

He watched her walk off, joining the others in the dining hall for supper. Dog mounted his bike and brought her to life. The roar fueled him. He should bring backup with him, especially knowing how deep Grass was in the underworld, but he couldn’t risk Forge putting a halt to everything. Dog needed to keep Sable safe.

As he rode toward town, he remembered Sable’s sweet scent when they’d spent the night together. She was young and innocent. He hadn’t set one inappropriate hand on her that night. It was just open, gentle, honest. He fucking loved her.

He neared the country club. Cars were lined up along the rural roadside for half a mile. This was no little party. How was he supposed to get in there and blend with a bunch of suits?

Dog parked his bike off the beaten path and jogged across the road toward the club. The sun had nearly set, making his presence less noticeable. He wished it had been darker.

The drone of fake conversations already grated on his nerves. The practiced laughs, empty compliments, and prideful bullshit was opposite to life at the club. He wanted to be back there right now—with Sable.

He scanned the crowds, weaving around the throngs of people. His leather jacket was zipped up, and he tried his best to keep off the radar. If Little or Grass recognized him, this was over.

They had private security, and he made sure not to make eye contact with any of them. He grabbed a flute of champagne as he spun around, pretending to belong. Where the fuck was Sable? Beth said she’d be here tonight.

He made his way to the building next to the pools, peering in the windows as he sipped his drink. It tasted like sugar and piss, so he dumped the rest into the grass. He preferred the hard stuff.

Inside, he noticed a lot of girls. A couple of them looked scared, and they weren’t dressed like the women mingling outside. He kept moving, taking notes as he tried to get a better view into the room. As he rounded the building, he stopped before turning the corner. There were a lot of gruff voices, and he recognized one of them—the prez of a rival club. He wouldn’t put it past him to bend over for Grass. The end of the Hell’s Slaves MC was at the top of Grass’s agenda. While some clubs were happy to be “yes men” for the right price, even for crooked politicians, Forge wasn’t one of them. Sure, he’d do their dirty work, but on his own terms.

He went back the same way, coming face-to-face with one of the security guards. Dog towered over him.

“You gonna blow your fucking whistle?”

“You on the guest list?” asked the guard.

“I work with Grass. I’m sure he wouldn’t appreciate you pissing me off,” he said. “Why don’t you make sure all these rich bitches have their glasses full?”

The guard backed off, but Dog did have an imposing presence, even when he wanted to appear approachable. He opened the first door he came across and bit the bullet, entering the building. He had no clue who was inside, but he was getting nowhere searching the grounds for Sable.

There was an older guy stuffed in a suit, two young girls on either side of him. His hand under one of their dresses. He knew whores, and this didn’t look consensual to him.

A cop approached him, giving him pause. Bikers and cops never meshed well, especially when one was trying to steal his woman.

“Like anything you see?”

“Huh?”

“Looking to buy something long-term or is this a one-night thing?”

It took Dog a minute to catch on. He scanned the room with new eyes. They were fucking trafficking girls. He scrubbed a hand down his face. Right now, he wished he had the club at his back. This was solid proof they could use against Grass. It would mean Sable could come home.

“Maybe an hour thing. You have any virgins?” asked Dog.

The cop smirked. “You have expensive taste.”