Patriot (Silver Saints MC)

“Being my blood isn’t enough.” She shook her head as she dropped her vest back onto the hook. “I’m not a member.”

My legs were so shaky, I almost didn’t make it over to the couch without falling to the floor. Dropping onto the cushions, I buried my face in my hands and tried to come up with some way to make my sister understand how messed up this whole situation was. When I finally gave up, I lifted my head and cried, “There has to be some other solution. Doesn’t working for one of the club’s businesses offer me some kind of protection?”

“You have to be kidding.” Alice laughed at my question, finding it so funny that she slapped her palm against her thigh. “Any woman who works for the Devil’s Jesters is either banging one member exclusively because that’s the way he wants it, or she’s doing all of them. Old lady or club bunny. Those are your choices, and someone is going to force you to make a decision soon. It’s not like you have anywhere to go. You wouldn’t last five minutes in the real world.”

My stomach churned, and I felt as though I was going to throw up. “What’s the rush all of a sudden? I turned eighteen last week.”

“The only reason the guys who’re interested have held off since your birthday was out of respect for Razor. They were waiting for him to get back from the club run, and he sent me a text about half an hour ago letting me know he’s back in town,” she explained.

I swallowed another lump in my throat, but this time I was pretty sure it was actually my lunch trying to come back up. “He’s at the clubhouse right now?”

She nodded as she sat down in the chair across from me. “Yup, and I wouldn’t be surprised if someone’s already talked to him about you.”

“I’m supposed to be at the bar in less than an hour,” I whispered, tugging at the hem of the tiny shorts the club made all the girls wear when they were working.

My sister waved off my fear. “You’re making way too big of a deal out of this. Just pick one of the guys who’ve been panting after you for the past year or two and convince them that they don’t want to share you with their club brothers. You’re young and pretty. It shouldn’t be too hard to do.”

I couldn’t believe I had come to the point in my life when I regretted not giving my V-card up to one of the boys I’d gone to school with. At least that would’ve been my choice, instead of being forced into bed with a guy by my own sister. “If Mom and Dad were still alive, they’d be so mad at you right now.”

Alice leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest while she glared at me. “But they aren’t, and it’s time for you to grow the fuck up and stop being a whiny baby.”

2

Patriot

I signaled to Dash, the Silver Saints MC tail gunner, then hit the road, flanked by a few of my brothers and another dozen behind us. We’d recently lost our Road Captain, so as the MC’s Captain, I was in charge of the runs. We’d just made a delivery to a buyer in a town about four hours north. The most direct route had been through the territory of the Devil’s Jesters. None of us were happy about being anywhere near the bastards. They were dirty, dealt in shit like drugs, and had no respect for their women.

However, the buyers had kept us longer than we’d expected, so we were all hungry and not looking forward to four hours on a bike with an empty stomach. And since Hell’s Kitchen, a bar owned by the Devil’s Jesters, was the only decent place to eat along the route, we’d decided to stop for a bite.

As we rumbled into the parking lot, a couple of patches who’d been lounging by the front door stood up and eyed us suspiciously. I understood their wariness. The delivery had been on the larger side, and we carried the items in our saddle bags, which was why there were so many of us on this run. Plus anyone who’d wanted to ride along, just to get out on the road.

Most of us were big motherfuckers, and we were clearly wearing patches that proclaimed us as another MC. One thing we had going for us, though, was the Silver Saints had a reputation. We didn’t bring trouble...that people knew about. We stepped in when a situation needed handling, but we did it quietly and left no trace.

When the boys spotted the Silver Saints patch, they dismissed us and relaxed again. We nodded respectfully—if insincerely—as we passed them and entered the bar.