Chapter 1

Maverick

"This shit has to stop," Rocky growled, and smacked his fist on the bar. His brows were pulled into a severe frown that made him look older and more menacing than usual. "Those motherfuckers broke into Demon Head Guns and trashed the place." He was so mad, so hellbent on revenge that I knew he was close to losing his shit.

I clapped him on the back. "This is why we keep the guns in a safe when we close for the day." As the MC's sergeant at arms, it was my job to take care of our weapons in addition to maintaining order and enforcing MC rules inside the clubhouse as well out in the world. "You know how many crackheads have tried to break into that place?" I smiled, hoping to take the edge off.

"Yeah," he grunted. "Still pisses me the fuck off."

"It pisses all of us off," I told him with a grin. "But we have it all on security footage, so it's up to Diesel what we do about it. Retaliate or send the cops after 'em."

"No offense," Rebel said as he took a long pull from his beer, "but why the fuck does a Mexican cartel give a fuck about local cops?"

Rebel made a good point, but I'd been thinking about this nonstop since the silent alarm at the shop alerted me via an app that we had intruders. "They don't have to care about the cops, but they care about how easy it is for them to cross the border with ease. They get pinched for so much as running a red light, and those fuckers will end up sitting in an ICE facility for weeks, possibly months. That shit right there? Bad for business."

The Black Death has been fucking with us for months now. At first it was just breaking windows and other small shit, but over the past two months things had escalated. They set fire to one of our whorehouses and they busted all the windows out of Leather Chrome.

"We have to do something," Rocky said, his gaze darting across the room where our club president, Diesel, sat and watched his son play with Chopper. "What do you think, prez?"

"I agree," Diesel finally answered. "But we have to be smart. These fuckers don't give a shit who they hurt or what they destroy. The only thing The Black Death cares about is pushing their products so they can make money. Nothing else."

"I say we hit 'em back, but harder." My style was always a fucking sledgehammer. "Slate, can't you wipe out one of their accounts or put out a warrant for someone's arrest?"

Slate's lips parted into a slow, devious smile. "Of course I can do it, I just need the right authorization first." His gaze slid to Diesel and then Rocky. "That's all."

"We'll talk about it at church," Diesel assured us all. "For now, we need to be more diligent keeping an eye on our properties. We can't afford to lose more than we have. We won't."

Church was scheduled for a few days, and unless it was an emergency, we stuck to our set days. I didn't like it any more than Rocky did but there was nothing that could be done. Unless, of course, we caught those fuckers in the act.

Then all bets were off.

I raked a hand through my hair, wondering how much longer The Black Death would fuck with us before they unleashed the violence they were known for on our town. Our people. They were violent and reckless, and they wouldn't stop once they felt they'd been wronged. And we had wronged them, even if we didn't know it at the time, by killing Robert Carter.

My phone buzzed loudly in my pocket, and I answered it without even glancing at the screen, a testament to just how fucking stressed I was about these latest developments. "Yeah?"

"Dylan, is that you?"

Half of my stress faded almost instantly at the sound of the voice on the other end of the call. "Yeah, Grandma, it's me. How are you?"

"Why do you sound so angry?" she asked, ignoring my question, which was my first clue that something was wrong. Mabel Johnson was nobody's fool, and she didn't much like the fact that her age was catching up to her.

"I'm not angry, Grandma, just a bit stressed. What's going on with you?"

"Not much," she said in a tone that told me otherwise. "I haven't heard from you in a few days, and I missed you."

Just like that, my heart squeezed. She was right, I hadn't been to see her in just over a week. "I'm sorry, Grandma."

"It's fine," she began with a sad sigh. "You have your own life to lead."

A life that wouldn't have been possible without her. "You are a big part of that life, Grandma. In fact, I was on my way to see you today, if you have time."

"For you," she said, and I heard the smile in her voice, "always."

"See you soon." I slipped the phone back into my pocket and went to Ace. "Need me for anything else? I need to go check on Mabel."

"Go. You can always have one of the prospects check on her throughout the week, to ease your mind."

"I know." But it felt wrong putting the responsibility of my grandmother on someone else, even if it was one of my brothers. I made my way towards the door, and I was almost there until Simone slipped between me and the exit.

"Hiya, Mav. Want some company?" She rubbed her tits against my chest, making it clear she was down for whatever.

"No."

She pushed her lips out into a red pout. "I had a lot of fun with you last time and I was hoping we could do it again."

It was a mistake to stick my dick in Simone even though that's what she was here for. She was young and hot and always eager for a dicking, but she could be clingy. At the time, I hadn't given a shit. "We can't," I told her. "You know what it was and what it wasn't, Simone."

"There's no reason it can't be more," she purred.

"I'm busy right now. Besides, you know how it works, if I want you, I'll let you know. If I don't, then I won't." I hated being callous, but the girl couldn't take a fucking hint.

"This isn't over," she said, and walked away. She was a club whore and if she stepped too far out of line, she would be out on her tight little ass.

I jumped on my bike and made the ten-minute drive to the mid-size white house with bright red shutters and oversized flowerpots lining the porch where I grew up.

"Grandma!" I called out as I stepped inside the house. The blinds were pulled shut, and it was deadly quiet.

"Back here," she finally said, and I followed the sound of her voice to the kitchen.

"Hey, beautiful." I kissed her cheek and wrapped my arms around her short, pudgy frame, squeezing her tight. "I missed you."

She turned and squeezed me back before she looked up with a smile and pinched my cheek. "I missed you too, my boy. You look good. Handsome, but a little thin. Hungry?"

"Always," I replied, because no one cooked like Mabel. "Why are all the blinds closed?"

"Because I'm back here and I don't want anyone peeking into my house."

It was a reasonable response, but I didn't buy it. "Grandma, what's going on? You're not the only one who can tell when something ain't right."

"It's nothing," she said, and turned back to the stove. "I'm getting older, that's all."

"You're not old," I insisted. "You're as lively as ever."

She smiled as she brought a plate of steak, onions, and gravy to the table, along with hot mustard, fresh bread, and a big bowl of salad. "I am, but I'm not as fast or as agile as I used to be. Can't move around as easily and the doctor says I might need help."

"You have me." Though the truth was my MC commitments made it harder and harder to take time to look out for her.

"I do have you," she said, and took a seat at the kitchen table with a smile. "But you have a life, and if I keep you here with me, I'll never get babies to bounce on my knee before my knee is too old to bounce."

"Never gonna happen." I piled a piece of bread with the delicious, juicy meat and bit into it with a groan. "I'll find you someone I trust to help you out, Grandma. I promise."

"I don't wanna be a burden, Dylan."

"Never that," I assured her, and took another bite. "So fucking good, Grandma."

She smiled brightly. "Watch your mouth. You're not too old for me to wash your mouth out with soap."

"Sorry," I said, and flashed an unapologetic smile. "While I'm here, I'll take a look around and fix some of the things giving you trouble."

She perked up at that. "That would be wonderful. You can tell me what you and those biker boys have been up to since we last talked."

"Sounds good."

I ate until I thought my stomach would burst. Mabel was my whole world. Outside of the MC, she was my only family, and I would do whatever was necessary to keep her happy and safe, and living here in her home.

"Hopefully, there's a woman keeping you too busy to visit with your dear old grandmother."

I laughed. "Sorry to disappoint, but there is no girl." Hadn't been since my fiancée wrote me a Dear John letter two years into my time with the Marine Corps. After that, I said ‘no thanks' to any thoughts of settling down, and enjoyed short encounters that lasted anywhere from a couple of days to a couple of weeks.

Short, sweet, and, most of all, uncomplicated was how I liked my relationships.

And that wasn't gonna change anytime soon.