Chapter 2 Skel

P resent—

"Where the hell are you, man?" Maddog growled as I swiped across my cell to answer his call. "We got shit to discuss in church."

"I'll be there."

"When?"

"Soon."

He snorted. "What are you doin'? Stalking that blonde again?"

Maybe. "Something ain't sittin' right."

"Tell me you're not late for church because of pussy."

"Pres," I began, knowing he wouldn't understand. It was Lacey. If there were any woman I'd risk Maddog's wrath for, it was her.

"For fuck's sake, Skel. Get your ass here. Now."

He hung up.

Shit.

Like the bastard I was, I dialed him back, not giving him a chance to talk as he answered. "Flint, this is important. I need to talk to Lacey."

"So is church," he growled.

"It is. Just got to handle this first."

"Creature is countin' on you. Don't keep us waitin'."

"I won't," I relented. This wasn't about getting my dick wet. I had other reasons for needing to see Lacey.

"Good. Be here by noon."

When he hung up the second time, I knew I had to make this quick. My bike idled across the street from the ritzy high-rise building where Lacey lived with her father. She'd stayed there through college graduation and never moved out.

I shut down the engine and approached the entrance, slipping inside when a couple exited and left the door open wide. There was a doorman and a guard on duty, so the security wasn't awful, but there were too many goddamn windows. I knew from experience how easy it could be to watch someone and learn their routine. The elevators were easy to access, but the penthouse? It had its own elevator down the hall, partially hidden by a plant with obscenely large fronds.

James, the doorman, greeted me as I entered. "You've come for another visit, Mr. Myers?"

Yeah, he remembered me. I didn't know if that was good or bad. I guess I was about to find out.

"Yeah," I answered. "What's it been? Three years?"

I knew exactly how long it had been since I last walked inside this building instead of entering through a disguise.

"I believe so. Is Ms. Lacey expecting you?"

No. Well, maybe. "She should be," I replied, walking to the penthouse elevator and pressing the button.

"I'll just give her a little ring to be sure."

Oh, he remembered me. Didn't like me much either. It probably had a lot to do with the cut on my back, the heavy ink on my skin, and the fact that I didn't bow to any man, law or not.

Appearance was everything when you moved within the circle of the elite. Rich, beautiful, and powerful people surrounded themselves with the same cookie-cutter types. Didn't bother me except for the fact that they judged everyone else. Like James, who didn't have a horse in this race but felt he needed to add his opinion anyhow.

"You do that," I hollered back, not bothering to hide my irritation as I mashed the button, waiting for the doors to open. Once they did, I entered, leaning against the smudge-free wall of the interior, noting that not even a fingerprint marred its perfect appearance.

How the fuck did people live like this?

Privilege, that's how—spoiled and pampered from birth.

Like Lacey. Only she was different.

When the doors opened, I stepped onto the black marble floor and noted the luxuriant décor. The opulent hall with crystal chandeliers and gold accents led straight to Lacey's door. There wasn't a need to knock. She stood in the doorway.

"Why have you come back?"

Her attitude wasn't lost on me. She had every reason not to trust me and think the worst. I didn't give her much choice after what I did.

"For you," I answered simply.

She lifted her chin. "I don't think so."

I wondered what lies her daddy had spun to turn her against me. It didn't matter. That wasn't the reason I came.

"Luis Diego is back in Vegas," I revealed. "You need protection."

She scoffed. "And you're offering your services?"

I never stopped. She might have thought so, but I made a point of keeping tabs on her and Diego. There wasn't a reason to intervene until Diego ignored my warning and returned, placing Lacey in danger.

"I'll never allow him to harm you again."

Her expression faltered before she lifted her chin. "That was a long time ago. You don't owe me anything."

No, I didn't. That wasn't the point. "Gotta be sure he doesn't try to finish the job he started."

Lacey sighed. "I don't need your help, Skel. You made it clear when you left Vegas and said you weren't coming back."

I fucked up. Sue me. I wasn't fucking perfect. "Never planned on it, Sweet Girl. When Luis Diego got out of prison and went back on his promise, I had to intervene."

"That doesn't mean you had to come here ," she pointed out.

"I needed to see you." I closed the distance between us, caging her against the doorjamb. "Things got fucked up, Baby. I shouldn't have left the way I did."

She frowned. "Was it my father? Did he pay you?"

Fuck no. How goddamn insulting. "No," I growled. "No one pays me off for shit."

I didn't expect the sudden tears she blinked back. "Then why did you go?"

Fuck. "I had to."

"I'm still waiting for the reason, not to mention an apology."

Apology? "For what?"

"Breaking my heart," she whispered before shoving me away and closing the door in my fucking face.

Fuck! I had to make this right.

Spinning on my heel, I stomped to the elevators. Lacey didn't understand. I wasn't going anywhere.

"WHAT DID YOU FIND, Skel?" Maddog asked as we gathered around the table in church, as serious as a sermon on the Sabbath. No, we didn't pray to any higher being, but we were just as strict and uncompromising about our beliefs. We lived by a code of brotherhood and loyalty, and the club took first place over every other relationship each member had. Only family trumped that and the few ol' ladies claimed by officers.

"I did a deep dive on the web," I reminded them, continuing the conversation we'd had last week. "I found information about a hit ordered by the Bladed Serpents." They were our biggest rival. "It was issued when Creature's father was V.P."

Creature pounded a fist on the table. "I need to know more about how his own club called a hit on my family. Those motherfuckers plotted to kill my mother."

Creature's mother was murdered right in front of him when he was only thirteen. Fucked him up good. Back then, I had been a prospect for the Bladed Serpents. Young and stupid, I didn't know the shit they were involved in or how deep the animosity ran toward Tinman. That day changed everything.

Now, over a decade later, there were still secrets. Creature took out Mateo Ruiz, but his business associates, Luis Diego, and Angel Mackenzie, were still out there, causing chaos. They had a deal with the Bladed Serpents and Ratchet, their president, who trafficked women in and out of the U.S. at various checkpoints, including Las Vegas.

He needed put down, preferably six feet deep. The Feral Rebels MC, a brother chapter to ours and the Tonopah RBMC, had already declared war on the Bladed Serpents. We were the next to add our vote.

"Ratchet was the treasurer when Tinman was V.P.," Creature reminded us. "If he didn't order the hit on my mother, he has to know something about it."

"I've found some shady shit with the club's books online," I divulged. "There's a connection that's mentioned multiple times. Luis Diego. But someone isn't as good with accounting as they think. If they get audited, shit will go down with the feds."

"We should look into making that happen," Creature decided. He turned to Maddog. "Pres?"

"Yeah, that's the first angle we dig around. Do it," Maddog ordered.

I was the best tech person we had until Snapshot joined us. He wouldn't arrive for another month. It was up to me to help put pressure on Ratchet and the Bladed Serpents. Maybe that would draw out Luis, too. I had a bullet with his name on it. The cocksucker. He messed with the RBMC, the Feral Rebels, and Lacey. He was fucking done.

Our enemies were growing bold and plotting against us. Ratchet. Luis Diego. And fucking Angel Mackenzie, the nephew of cartel boss Salazar Guerrero. Salazar failed to control his nephew. That meant Angel was fair game now. They were all connected and about to face judgment.

Creature cleared his throat. "After all this time, I'm finally gonna find the motherfucker who ordered my mother's murder. There's not gonna be any mercy once I do, pres."

"Wouldn't think otherwise," Maddog replied, lifting the gavel and slamming it down on the table. "Church is dismissed."

Manic and Creature left the chapel as I lit up a smoke. "What are you thinkin'?"

"Can't ever keep shit from you, can I?" he asked with a laugh.

"No," I agreed. "Tell me what's on your mind."

"I need an honest opinion on the strip club we just purchased. Something is up. I bought out the old management, but they're still hanging around the place. Need you to figure out why."

That was odd. "The girls? Money? Or you think illegal shit is goin' down?"

"It's Vegas," he deadpanned.

Right. "We'll go with illegal."

A dark chuckle followed. "I got a weird feelin' in my gut. I hate that shit. You goin' in means no one checkin' out the club has seen you yet. You've not been here long. It works to our advantage. You can pretend to be a payin' customer."

"Pretend?" I laughed.

"Fine. Get a lap dance or a blowie. I don't give a fuck. Just find out what the hell is goin' down there. Bouncers aren't sayin' shit. I need to hire new staff."

"Yeah, you do. We'll get to that once I scope the place out."

"I was hopin' you'd say that, Skelly."

Fuck. I hated that nickname. "Flint," I warned.

His laughter lasted a full minute. "Just fuckin' with you, man. Ain't seen you in months."

"I know." I cleared my throat, curbing my irritation. "I'll handle this, Maddog."

"That's why I'm sendin' you. You're my new V.P. No one else I want by my side half as much."

"You sappy old fuck," I joked, steering the emotional aspect of the conversation as far as possible. I didn't do feelings. Too goddamn messy. And they always skewed the focus and mission.

He snorted. "We'll make it official tomorrow. Gonna take you for a ride into the desert."

The desert? "That sounds sketchy."

"You have no idea. Check-in with me when you know somethin'. I'll be up late."

"You got it."

Maddog stood, leaving me alone in the chapel as he moved toward the bar and hollered for a drink. I finished the cigarette, flicked the butt into an ashtray, and headed toward the exit—time to get movin'.

Outside, I sat on my Harley, starting the engine as I pulled out my phone and checked the display for messages. One from my pops. A few social media notifications. Nothing from Lacey.

I didn't expect her to contact me. Didn't think she'd be in a rush to rehash any arguments we already had. That was why I had a tracker on her phone. In three years, she'd never noticed it. Win for me.

Lacey's location pinged close to the clubhouse. With a frown, I looked closer at the app. Motherfucker.

My stubborn, reckless woman was only a few doors down from my location. The exact spot? A strip club, specifically the one I planned to visit. Why the fuck was she there?

I planned to find out. Now.

Riding toward the location, instead of walking in case I needed to drag Lacey out and leave in a hurry, I left the clubhouse parking lot. One of our new prospects opened the gate, saluting as I rode by. I shook my head. I'd have to fix that.

When Maddog first called and asked me to join his new club, a brother chapter for the Royal Bastards MC, I leaped at the chance to leave California. After two failed relationships, several jobs that never lasted long, and my restless need to find purpose, I was ready for something new.

That was the thing no one ever told you about once you left active duty in the Marine Corps, how life would never seem as exciting, dangerous, or busy after sacrificing for the government.

Once a Marine, always a Marine. You retired or chose not to reenlist, but there was no "former" title. That life and its strict, rigorous structure stayed with you long after you stopped wearing your cammies.

I reached my destination and parked close to the entrance with plenty of light so no brave motherfucker might try to fuck with my bike. I invested in a high-quality cam last year, and I'd hunt down anyone stupid enough to fuck with my Harley.

Everything in Vegas was flashy, and this strip club was no different. The neon sign above the entrance blinked with a bare limb and included a red high heel. Below it, another sign read TOPLESS in all caps. You couldn't miss it.

Loud music pumped through speakers placed around the room as I entered, pausing to take in the scene. A pole had been erected in the center, and two women wearing nothin' but thongs danced in front of a large crowd. There were three stages, all with poles, and every one of them had a dancer wrapped around it.

Tables mainly were full, and several long couches with red leather lined the perimeter on either side of the bar. A few male patrons were receiving lap dances while nearly every stool was occupied. Men laughed and drank, interacting with the topless waitresses who served drinks and cozied up for extra tips. I noted the two bartenders were a redhead and a blonde. Both were smokin' hot and flashed broad smiles.

The management had taken time to train their talent. I could appreciate that. The girls were good lookin' and not afraid to flirt. I liked the dancers knew how to work a pole. None of them hesitated to throw themselves into it, flinging their bodies around as tits and asses shook all over the damn club.

The décor could use updated. My gaze swept over the room, and I could see old stains and dirt that hadn't been cleaned regularly. That would be one of the first things I changed. Sure, they wiped the tables and cleaned the poles. Probably the bar, too. But I wasn't sure the floors, walls, and seats got the same treatment. Considering all the fluids that could drip around here, I wasn't taking chances on what could spread.

The old management must have cared more about money and talent than sanitation, but they all fit together. All three were needed to run a successful business, especially long term. I'd have to bring it up to Maddog as I made a mental list of the other things I needed to add.

There were doors that led to private rooms, and it was obvious some of those lap dance offers included personal time with the girls for the right fee. Selling sex wasn't new to Vegas, but it was still illegal. If the club wanted to run this business and turn a profit, we'd have to restrict sexual activity. The girls could do what they wanted on their own time.

I headed toward the bar, taking a seat on an empty stool. I didn't see Lacey yet and hoped the tracker was wrong.

"Hey, handsome. What can I get for you?" The redhead bartender beamed a wide smile and leaned over the bar, pushing her tits closer as she regarded me. "Never saw you around here before. I'd remember."

"Just got in town," I revealed. "Need a beer, Darlin'."

"You got it." She winked. "I'm Maris. Need anything besides alcohol, I'm your girl."

"What about them?" I ticked my head toward the dancers.

"That's just fourplay."

Damn. She was layin' it on thick. "Just the beer," I answered, uninterested in Maris and her enticing offer.

A different woman took up all the available space in my head and kept me up at night. A feisty, curvy goddess that had stolen my heart the night we met. In a graveyard, no less.

And that was when I saw my sweet girl, my sexy as fuck blonde with hair down to her juicy ass and smooth, tanned skin spent from plenty of hours in the hot Nevada sunshine. Long bare legs snared my attention, and I slowly dragged my gaze upward, pausing to appreciate her generous tits before landing on her face. You'll be coming home with me.

Concerned about the reason she was serving drinks in this fucking strip club, I chugged my beer. The bottle hit the bar as I pushed away, stalking my way toward my prize. I'd know her sultry smile, luscious ass, and pretty blue eyes anywhere. She looked different with all the makeup and skimpy clothes. A wilder version of my sexy vixen. She was goddamn beautiful. Almost took my breath away, the same as she did the night we met.

I'm back, baby. This time, I'm making sure you're mine.

I didn't get more than a few steps when one of the customers got handsy. He reached for her ass and slapped it. Before I could react, Lacey pushed him away, trying to escape as he slid off a stool and grabbed her around the waist.

No one touched Lacey. NO. ONE.

I shoved the guy out of the way as I reached him, swinging at the same time. My fist connected with his jaw and sent his drunk ass sprawling across the floor. I glared down at him, daring this asshole to fight me.

"Get the fuck away from her. Now."