Page 80 of Chains
“I’ll have to wake you up.”
“I won’t take a pain pill.” There was humor in her tone.
“Okay, darlin’. I’ll be over. I’m gonna bring Thor. I’m sure he’s madder than hell at me about now.”
“Aren’t you at the clubhouse?”
Chains quirked his lips. “No. I had something to do.”
There was a brief pause and he could hear her soft breathing. “I’d love to see Thor again.”
“Is your cat cool with dogs?”
“Cinder gets along with my parents’ terrier. She was the first pet in the family until Scruffy came along. If it was up to Scruffy they’d be best friends, but Cinder prefers an amicable but somewhat distant relationship. Is Thor okay with cats?”
“He doesn’t have a problem with them when we come across them on walks, but I don’t know how he’d do one-on-one.”
“I guess we’ll have to see how it goes. I’m willing to try.”
“Me too, baby. If I get done sooner, I’ll let you know.” Chains appreciated that Autumn hadn’t asked any questions when he’d told her he had club business that night.
“I’ll see you later.”
“You can count on it.”
“Be careful,” she whispered.
“I always am, so no worrying, okay?”
Her “uh-huh” didn’t sound too convincing, but there was nothing Chains could do about it. The world he lived in was fraught with danger at every turn, and being aware of his surroundings at all times was how he dealt with it. Life wasn’t permanent, so he made the most of each day, cognizant of the fact that it could be his last. Life and death were intricately woven together, and even more so in the one-percenter world: that was just the way it was.
Chains stared at the screen long after Autumn had hung up. The time they’d spent together had been amazing, and he couldn’t wait until her face healed so he could get a better taste of her sweet lips. He’d only been gone from her a couple of hours, and he was already hungry for more. The thing with Autumn was that she made him feel things he hadn’t felt—hadn’t wanted to feel—in a long time. And as hard as he tried not to, Chains was falling for her—hard.How the hell did this happen?He’d sworn off citizens, and it hadn’t been a big deal until that day he’d brought Thor to the clinic. Meeting Autumn had thrown him on his ass. A part of him kept saying that it was all too soon, but another part recognized that there was something deep and almost magical between them. And that’s what blew him away because he never fell for all that bullshit, but Chains couldn’t deny the magnetic pull that drew them closer, against their better judgment.
Not knowing where Bret was irked the hell out of him, but if there was one thing Chains had learned it was that patience was an asset, especially when stalking prey. The fact that Bret wasn’t at his condo meant the douchebag was on high alert and running scared. He knew Chains would come after him, but what he didn’t know was that Chains would wait until the right moment to strike, even if it took a week, a month, or a year. It didn’t matter because he had every intention of teaching Bret a lesson. The club’s menacing motto God Forgives, Night Rebels Don’t was the way the brothers lived their lives. They didn’t start fights or get into anyone’s business unless someone disrespected them first, then they’d right the wrong no matter what. They were a no-holds-barred brotherhood, and people who fucked with them fell into two categories: brave to the point of being delusional or dumber than hell.
Chains pulled into the club’s parking lot and killed the engine. Music, mixed with voices, carried toward him, becoming louder as he approached the clubhouse. A group of brothers milled around outside with beers in hand, most probably engaged in a serious conversation about engines and chrome. Motorcycle talk ranked higher than booze or women.
“Jester, how are you, bro?” Chains said as he walked over to a tall man smoking a cigarette. Jester was a member of the Devil’s Cannibals MC. The club was based in Carlsbad, New Mexico. They were a small group, and the Night Rebels helped them out with gun smuggling and selling pot so the club could up their revenue. Since Deadly Demons MC—bitter enemies with the Insurgents MC in Colorado—claimed New Mexico, the Devil’s Cannibals’ bottom rocker didn’t bare the name of the state, only the city—Carlsbad.
“Pretty good. It was a great ride coming here. What’ve you been doing? You missed the last couple of rallies in New Mexico.”
“Been working my ass off,” Chains replied.
“That’s no fuckin’ fun, dude.” A deep laugh turned immediately into a crackling cough.
“How’s life been treating you?” Chains asked.
“Not bad. My old lady and me keep fighting, but that’s nothing new.” Another cough. “Fuck! This shit’s gonna kill me,” Jester said, waving the cigarette in the air before bringing it to his lips and taking a few puffs. Smoke billowed around them as he jerked his head toward a group of scantily dressed women in very short shorts and skirts, and way-too-tight tops. “Looks like some of the bitches are gonna need some warming up.”
Chains nodded. The women were what the club referred to as hang-arounds: women who partied with the members on the weekends. These wild women threw caution to the wind and embraced life with abandonment. They were there for the weed, the booze, and the men. They’d come and go—some partying hard for several weeks in a row, then disappearing, only to pop up again months or even a year later. It never ceased to amaze Chains how many women wanted to come party with them. Of course, the hang-arounds knew the game: they were there for sex and if a brother wanted it, they gave it. If some of the women had second thoughts, the Night Rebels respected that, but then the chicks wouldn’t be allowed to party with them anymore. It was the way their world worked, and every player—member, hang-around, club whore—knew their roles.
“I heard you got a sweet piece of ass in your harem,” Jester said. “Aztec was telling me I gotta fuck Lila, but”—he glanced around at several hang-arounds teetering in high heels—“there’re so many chicks and so little time.”
Chains laughed and clasped Jester’s shoulder. “I know you can handle a marathon, bro. Lila’s a club girl—she’ll be here in the morning, but the hang-arounds are temporary.”
“Good point. I’ll try them out and Lila tomorrow.”
“How long are you guys here for?” Chains asked.
