The Biker's Cherry (Royal Bastards MC: Charleston, WV 8)

Chapter Seven

“Think you’re up to the task, Prospect?” Murder, the club Prez strokes his salt and pepper flecked beard from behind his desk.

“Whatever you need. You can count on me.” I’ve been a prospect for damn near six months or more. All the brothers are busy with other shit. Some are gone on runs. Helping out other clubs. Hound has been cleaning up Karma’s mess in Wilmington with the Harlots. Sandman and Bianca are chasing the ghost of a dead girl still looking for answers and that’s where I come in. Cloud fucking Nine still has Charleston in her grips and her reach is spreading like cancer. Girls dancing at the Kitty Kat are failing their drug tests.

Cloud Nine is a potent drug that in the wrong hands can be deadly.

Prez wants me to pick out a dancer to get close with to try to find out who and how the drug is coming into the club under our damn noses. You’d think these bitches would learn with two of their own dead. One was found in the Kanawha River and the other in a dumpster behind the Kitty Kat. Sandman’s girlfriend knew the Granger bitch from school. Someone put a bullet between her eyes. Wanted it to look like the club is responsible. The MC is no stranger to drugs, murder, and trouble but this shit has local PD breathing down our necks, hungry for anything to put one of us away. So far nothing is sticking. Not yet. Justice Masters has his way though, he’ll see one if not all of us go down.

“Good. I’ll expect updates on the regular. Don’t disappoint me. Got a patch with your name on it if you don’t fuck this up.”

I grin at that.

“Expect you’ll do whatever it takes, but don’t get in so deep you forget where your loyalty lies. With this club. Your brothers come before pussy. We understood?”

I nod. “I got it.” He doesn’t have to remind me.

He stares at me long and hard. His gaze is intense and would make lesser men shit their pants. Murder isn’t the type of man who’ll shoot first and ask questions later. Every move he makes is calculated. You don’t get to be King by making half assed moves. I know Rio, the prospect before me fucked him over and now he’s even more weary when it comes to newcomers.

I know I gotta earn my place here. Earn my patch. Prove myself. Show that I’m loyal and for my club I’m ready to go the distance. Banks being my blood doesn’t mean anything, but my actions will prove I’m here. Ride or die. I’m ready.

“You got any attachments that will be a problem? Need to know now, son, if you got a woman who’ll have an issue. I don’t want no drama. No bullshit. I need a brother I can count on to see this shit through to the end.”

This really fucks my shit with Kimber up. Hell, its probably for the best. As much as it kills me our lives right now are a prime example of right person wrong time. I thought we could figure out a way to make it work. With this assignment though there’s no way Link is going to be cool with Kimber and me while I’m getting in deep with a stripper. Wouldn’t be fair of me to expect her to be cool with it either. I know what I need to do to get the job done and that doesn’t include a relationship with Kimber. I don’t want to hurt her. My patch comes first. She knows that. She’s cool with that. However, I don’t foresee her being cool with me doing whatever it takes to get the information Prez wants, including but not limited to fucking someone else. I can’t afford to blow my shot with this. He won’t ask me a second time.

“There’s no one.”

“It’s settled then. Soon as you think one of these bitches is into you, get in there. Whatever it takes. Feel me? I don’t care if you gotta promise to marry the cunt. I want this done.”

Bass pumps through the speakers at the Kitty Kat. I’m on security tonight. Its Thursday. Business is steady and dollar bills are flying at the stage where Bambi works the pole. Long brown hair styled in two school girl braids to go with her short plaid skirt doing her best Britney Spears impression to a cover of ‘Toxic’. Of course, Bambi is only her stripper name, but she’s my target. If I’m going all in for this might as well get the most out of it and hookup with a fine piece of ass in the process. And what a fine piece she is.

She gives me a sultry smile over her shoulder before bending over and flashing the audience her jiggly ass under her skirt. Fuck me the woman can move. Her hips roll and her ass bounces as she glides up and down the pole, working what her momma gave her. Grabbing the middle of the little white top she’s wearing Bambi pulls her hands apart, the shirt rips open to expose her tits. They practically jump out of the thin, black sheer cups covering them. She loses the skirt and does the splits while lifting one of her breasts up to lick it.

Damn.

A customer gets overzealous and jumps on the stage. Stupid fuck is drunk, stumbling toward Bambi. The pro that she is, she takes a step back from the idiot wagging a finger at him like he’s a naughty boy. I stalk toward them as she shoves him backwards. He goes down hard on his ass, nearly knocking his head on a chair when he hits the floor. I grip him from behind, yanking him toward the door by the collar of his shirt. No one ever promised this job would be as simple as looking at ass and titties all night.

“Hey, maaannn,” he slurs.

I shove him out the door onto the asphalt parking lot. “Call this asshole a cab.”

Dino, who is working the door tonight, gives me a nod. He’s not affiliated with the club. Just a big fuck who works the door. Used to be a football player in his college days. Tore something in his shoulder his junior year that ended his baller days.

By the time I get back inside Bambi is off the stage.

Kimber’s tried texting me all week. I know I’m a lousy shit. No matter what I do I’m going to hurt her. I never should have gotten started with her. I knew better. But fuck me when she smiles at me the world ends and begins with her. My sweet cherry. My little cupcake. Fuck. I stare at her name on my contacts and debate hitting delete. I can’t afford a big blow up right now. If I ignore her, maybe she’ll get pissed and back off. I know it isn’t cool or fair of me. She deserves an explanation. If I tell her the truth, she’ll try to reason that she understands and that she’s okay with it. At first, she might be. Until she sees me with another woman and her claws come out.

Pam practically raised her, and we all know she’s fucking crazy and won’t hesitate to cut off a man’s balls if need be. If I was Link, I’d be afraid to sleep next to her after the shit he pulled.

I’ve gotta forget about Kimber. Maybe once this is over we can pick things back up, but for now I gotta keep my head straight. I have a job to do, and I plan to get my patch no matter what.

The rest of the night moves quickly without any drama. When closing time comes, I make sure I’m around to walk my mark to her car.

I stand in the doorway of the dressing room as she gathers her shit from her locker. She still has the braids but is now wearing a hoodie and leggings. “Thanks for earlier but I had him handled.”

“He needs to sleep that shit off. Darryl should have cut him off sooner.”