Chapter 4

4

GENESIS

I knock back my drink and signal the bartender for another. I'm way past my limit, but I don't give a fuck, and the bartenders here know better than to try to stop me.

A whiskey is placed in front of me, along with a beer chaser. I stare down at the amber liquid when, out the corner of my eye, a familiar figure sits on the stool next to me.

"If I wanted company, I would've stayed at the clubhouse."

"Careful, you'll hurt my feelings."

I look up at King, and even though I want to punch him in the throat, I manage to hold back. His lips twitch like he knows what I'm thinking, but he doesn't say anything as I look back down at my drink.

Truth is, King is somewhat of an enigma. Part man, part legend, he was once the president of the Kings of Carnage before he faked his own death, leaving his son Orion to step up and take over.

And if that wasn't fucked up enough, there are rumors the guy's ex-FBI or CIA or something. He sure as shit isn't someone I'd want to cross. How Blade manages to share a woman with him and not look over his shoulder every two seconds is beyond me.

"So, he told you?"

"That he's leaving? Yeah." I throw back the whiskey, savoring the burn, before slamming the glass down on the bar.

"I get that you're pissed." He grabs my beer and starts drinking it as I wait for him to continue. He looks at me for a moment before smirking. "That's it. I get it."

I cross my arms over my chest. "Thanks, Dad."

"I'm old enough, you know. To be your dad." He takes another swig of my beer before he starts peeling off the label. "I missed out on a lot with my kids, and now they're grown, most of them with kids of their own. I don't have many regrets. But making them an obligation, not a priority, is one of them."

He looks at me.

"We're not young anymore—me, Conan, Inigo, and Blade. We've had one hell of a ride, no doubt about it, but we sacrificed everything for our clubs. We sacrificed our families and put our brothers and our colors first, over and over again. And at the time, it was the right thing to do.

"But when is it enough? Sunshine already lost one man; now she might lose another. That's going to mess with her head, and she's carrying twins, which is no fucking joke.

"And Conan is, well, Conan. If anyone can beat this, it's him. But…" His voice trails off.

"But what if he doesn't?" I finish for him.

"Nobody's leaving. You get that, right? Blade's still gonna be there to piss you off every day. He just won't have to deal with all the stress and shit that comes with being the president. You're a team, and I know he sprung this shit on you. Like I said, I get it. But the truth is, this isn't about you, G. It's not about Carnage or Ravens either—not this time. It's about putting our family first for once. About living in the moment and making memories while we still can."

He doesn't say anything else. He doesn't have to.

He slaps me on the back, then stands up and walks away, taking my beer with him.

"Motherfucker," I growl, but there's no heat behind it.

I sit there, letting King's words sink in, before deciding I've had enough to drink and it's time to go home. I stand up too quickly, and the room spins. I feel myself start to fall when an arm wraps around me.

"Whoa there. Are you okay?"

The person holding onto me smells like raspberries and sounds like a woman. I turn my head and see a spectacular pair of tits peeking out of a tank top.

Yep, definitely a woman.

"Nice tits."

"What, these old things?" her amused voice replies.

"They don't look old to me. They look…umm—" Huh, some bastard's stolen my words from me.

"What?" another voice asks. This one's female too, but I don't bother looking for her. I've already found the perfect rack.

"Rack? And people wonder why I'm still a virgin."

"Wait, who's a virgin?" I shout.

The room goes silent behind me before laughter erupts from the crowd.

"Thanks for that, dickhead," the other woman says.

I turn to her and find a tiny woman leaning against the bar. "You look like Tinkerbell."

"And you look like Barney Gumble–you know, the drunk guy from The Simpsons –before he let himself go."

I turn back to Tits McGee and get my first good look at her and her face. And her twin. No wait, there are three of her. Triplets maybe?

"Wow, the gods must love me. I've never had triplets before."

"I'm so confused right now," Tinkerbell says, but I can't take my eyes off the woman with the pretty titties.

"I prefer Amity."

"Amity. Nice. And your sisters?"

I look around for the other triplets, but they're gone. I frown but decide not to worry about it. "I've already found my future wife. Anymore would be a waste."

She grins. "Wife huh?"

"Wait. Did I say that out loud?" I whisper-shout.

"That's not how you whisper, buddy. And yeah, you haven't shut up since you swooned and Amity caught you." Tinkerbell sighs.

"I swooned? Huh, must be the tits. Grade-A tits like that will bring a man to his knees every time."

"Is that so?" Amity chuckles.

"Oh yeah. Is it weird that I really want to waterboard you right now?"

The woman's quiet as she thinks. "It's a little weird," she admits.

"Why? Who wouldn't want to get their face buried in those tits and get waterboarded…waterboard? Dammit, what's the word?"

She laughs. "Wait, do you mean motorboat?"

"That's what I said. Who doesn't want to get motorboated?"

"Not me," Tinkerbell says. "I've done it enough today."

I glance at her, curious, and I feel myself tilt slightly before Amity steadies me.

"How much have you had to drink?"

"A lot," I admit.

"How did you get here?"

"On my bike."

"Figured as much. Did you come with anyone?"

I shake my head, which turns out to be a bad idea when the room starts to spin. I feel myself tipping slightly before Tits—no—Amity steadies me.

"Alright, I think we should get you home."

"I'm not sure this is a good idea, Amity. I didn't see any biker repellent in your bag," Tinkerbell says.

"Don't worry. I think the whiskey seeping from his pores is repellent enough."

I rummage in my pocket for my keys and pull them out with a flourish before they're ripped from my hand. "Hey!" I try to grab the keys from Tinkerbell, but Amity blocks my way.

"You shall not pass."

I grin. " Lord of the Rings ? You a movie buff?"

"You could say that." She smiles back. "Come on. Let me and my friend give you a ride home. You wouldn't want us to worry about you lying dead in a ditch somewhere, would you?"

"I don't drink and ride," I say seriously. "I would've walked."

"Well, now you don't have to. Come on, big boy, let's get out of here. You have a tab you need to pay or anything?"

I shake my head, groaning when I remember why I shouldn't do that.

Tinkerbell sighs. "If he pukes in my car, you're cleaning it."

Amity leads me out of the bar with her arm around me, taking my weight like it's nothing while I glare at Tinkerbell.

"You're mean. She's mean," I say, turning to Amity.

"You'd be okay with her puking all over your bike?"

"No," I concede.

She maneuvers me into the backseat of their car, and as I lean against the window, I close my eyes.

"Well, this isn't how I pictured our first night here going."

"And yet, picking up a biker isn't the craziest thing we've done." Amity laughs.

I want to ask her what the craziest thing is, but my mouth feels like it's full of cotton balls.

"Hey, biker dude, what's your address?" Tinkerbell asks, but I don't answer. I don't have the energy, and I can't remember where I live right now anyway.

"Great, now we have a passed-out biker in the backseat. Shit, Amity. What if they think we kidnapped him to do nefarious things?"

"Nefarious? Word-of-the-day calendar?"

"Author, remember?"

What?

"Right. So, tell me, bestie, what would happen now if this were one of your books?"

"Depends on which end of the grayscale I'm feeling."

I'm so fucking confused. I'd ask, but opening my mouth isn't an option right now. Not if I don't want to hurl.

"Grayscale? What the fuck is a grayscale?"

"It's how I gauge what I'm going to write. Lighthearted love stories fall near the whiter shade of gray. And then you have the darker side, where anything goes—the kinkier, the better."

"Okay, give me an example of each."

"Hmm… okay. Light gray: we take him home with us because we can't get his address. He sleeps it off, wakes up, falls instantly in love with you, cooks an amazing breakfast, and never really leaves."

Okay… what the hell is happening right now?

"Mid-gray: we pull over, and I keep a lookout while you climb in the back and have your wicked way with him. You part ways, find out you're pregnant, and track him down, only to find him with another woman. Chaos ensues, probably a shootout or two, but Mr. MC turns all growly and stalks you until you give in and marry him."

"If that's mid-gray, what the fuck is dark gray?"

"We take him back to the clubhouse, where we both end up in a gangbang. My virginity means the president claims me for himself, even though I hate him and try to kill him at least once a day. You get passed around, but eventually, the brothers fall for you, and you end up with multiple love interests. The plot twist is you kill them all and end up with the president of a rival club."

Silence fills the car. It seems I'm not the only one at a loss for words. Who the hell are these women?

"I'm not sure if I should be turned on or terrified," Amity says.

"Me either, and I write it. Maybe reading smut in a tub of holy water is the way to go. Balance things out a little."

"Sounds as balanced as ordering a double burger combo and a Diet Coke."

Mmm… I could go for a burger.

"Okay, I say we take him back to his clubhouse and leave him at the gate with a newbie. What are they called again?"

"Prospects," Tinkerbell replies, making me wonder how many clubhouses she's been to.

"Yeah, one of those. We drop him off, our consciences are clear, and if we stay outside the gates in the penis-free zone, we should be safe from accidentally getting gangbanged."

Tinkerbell grumbles. "Fine, but if this goes badly, I get to say I told you so."

"Gonna be hard with a dick in your mouth. But I'm sure gangbangs take breaks. You know, to grab a snack or drink some electrolytes or something."

"Right, sure. Do you have any idea where this clubhouse is?"

"I do, actually. I checked out the area online, so I had an idea of what to expect, and the Raven Souls MC popped up in a newspaper article."

" Death Row Daily ?"

" The Herald , actually. And before you ask, it was about a toy drive they were doing to help a local children's charity."

"Seriously?"

"Yep. That gangbang doesn't seem so bad now, does it?"

"I mean, it would be good research."

They both burst out laughing, the sound like a sledgehammer to my pounding head. With a groan, I let myself drift off, wondering if I'll remember any of this in the morning.

But then I've never forgotten a pair of tits in my life.