CHAPTER ONE

-:- ROCK -:-

Time for a break, as it’s been one hell of a busy morning. As the manager of Hot Hogs & Cages, the responsibilities for the place fall on my shoulders. I like my work, but sometimes it seems all I do is work, go to the clubhouse, eat, sleep, then go back to work.

Reflecting as I think back to the time Clay, Dice and I financially supported the club when we went legit. It gave the brothers the opportunity to expand the club using skills they had, and which we could use to benefit the club.

It’s good to be in the position we are all in now, which is at peace with neighboring MCs, our territory secure, and helping the community we live in. Also, that the community does not fear us, but asks us for help if they need it.

I’ve seen my share of trouble, as have the other brothers. We’ve been shot at, held hostage, and other shit, but we’ve all come through it because we have each other's backs.

I make a coffee and take it out the front of the building. I love standing and watching people pass by. Just allowing the day to pass, taking in the air, having a minute. Whatever you want to call it, I find it peaceful and now and again much needed.

Steaming coffee mug in one hand, leaning against the wall out the front of the building, I have one leg bent with my foot against the wall. I’m enjoying the sun on my face and while drinking the coffee, I notice the redhead walking across the street. She has a young girl with her. She looks to be around seven, but I’ve not mixed with children much, so my guess could be way off. The little girl sees me and waves, throwing me the brightest of smiles. I raise my hand and wave in return, which has her giggling. The redhead gives me a small nod of her head, acknowledging my effort.

I’ve noticed Red, as I think of her, from time to time walking to and from taking her daughter to school. It’s noticeable they don’t share the red hair. The girl has brown hair with gold flecks throughout, and I think the sun has probably brought that out. She’s a cute one with the pigtails, little pouty mouth and those beautiful chocolate brown eyes. I only know all that because they walk on this side of the street occasionally, which gives me a closeup of them both.

“Rock, there is a client on the phone. She wants to know if you can fit her hog in for a respray before she leaves for Europe. She wants to take her hog with her, but needs it to be an eye-catcher.” Clay is looking at ‘Red,’ and I’m not sure I like it.

“Okay, I'll come and speak with her.” I give a last look at the back of the woman and child before walking inside and through to my office.

Picking up the phone, I take a calming breath because some of our clients can be pushy and I'm just not in the mood. “Rock speaking. How can I help you?”

“Hi, Rock. I'm going to be touring Europe in three months and taking my hog, but I wanted to have outstanding custom work done on her before I go. I will also need her to have a total check over, as I don’t want to be let down on the road trip. I don't know if you have a long waiting list or not, but I thought it worth me asking.”

It's a husky female voice which surprises me, and I know we have a long waiting list at the moment. Sighing, I respond, “We have an eighteen-month waiting list at the moment. But if you only want something basic before you go, I'll look and see if I can squeeze you in, but I'm not promising.”

“Hm, I was thinking of having red and black, with a black silhouette of a graveyard and spiders.”

“Tank only, or all over?” I ask.

“On the tank, then black washing into red everywhere else.”

“Give me your details and I'll get back to you in a couple of days. I need to check what we have to do in the time span you've suggested.” I pick up the pen and notepad and jot down the details, but something has me frowning when I see the name. Repeating the details to make sure I have them right, “Mikala Mitchell! Silk Sisters Rock! Are you kidding me?”

Laughter on the other end of the phone has me sitting up and leaning back in the chair. This is a damn surprise, a famous singer contacting us for a hog. “Yeah, I'm not kidding. I'm taking time out and I've been riding through the States, taking a breather. But my next stop will be Europe and I want my hog, but I'm particular who touches her. She's well ready for a respray and instead of keeping her shiny black, I thought I'd spruce her up.”

“I'll see what I can arrange, Mikala, but I can't promise. But I'll try my best to fit you in ready for your trip.” I rub the back of my neck because this is an enormous deal and would bring in more famous clients if this went well.

“That’s all I can ask. You were highly recommended to me by someone at the Restless Demons MC. They heard about you from another MC, can’t remember their name, but recommendations I’ve found are best, otherwise I’m taken for a ride because of who I am. Oh! No pun intended.” Mikala laughs at her own punch line, and I can’t hold in the chuckle.

“Okay, leave it with me and I’ll definitely get you an answer within 48 hours.”

Turning, I walk out of the office and make my way to the rest area where I pour another coffee from the machine and think about how we are going to fit in this job.

“Everything okay, Rock?” Fist asks as he walks into the rest area, grabbing himself a coffee.

“Yeah, you know Silk Sisters Rock?”

“Oh yeah, they are pretty hot, and Rock, their music is something wicked.”

“Well, Mikala Mitchell, the lead singer, just contacted us wanting her hog done before she goes on a road trip around Europe. Trouble is, she wants it done pronto.”

“I don’t think you have an option, Rock. It would be suicidal to turn this down. Her recommendation would bring in a fuck ton of work, and you could up prices, ‘cause man, these people are rolling in green.” Fist winks then takes a huge mouthful of his drink.

I need to have a discussion with everyone before we close up tonight. If we are going to do this for Mikala, then we need to spin our work so we can fit it in, even if it means working evenings for a week or two.

Krylon, our paint sprayer, is the one we’ll need to support as he can’t work night and day. Maybe it’s time we split the business, as I’ve suggested previously, and then take on another sprayer to assist him. It’s time to step up the business and with the place next door coming up for sale this past week, why not grab it?

We have three bays for working on bikes, which are always occupied with work being done. I can’t remember the last time one of the bays stood empty. One bay for custom vehicle work, which is Fist’s specialty, and another bay for the spray painting, so more of a booth than a bay.

Checking out the orders we have for the next three months, I flick through the pages of the order book, and I can’t see a vacant day we could even think of starting on Mikala’s hog. That means we have to work evenings and weekends to fit her custom work into our schedule.

I’m positive Axel will want the club to take on this work. It’ll be a huge boost to our reputation, which has been growing year by year. “Problem is, we could have even more work than we can cope with.”

Fist nods, “I know what you mean, but it would be stupid not to take the work on. We could look for more employees and open another area…well, if we moved the cages to another shop.” Slapping my shoulder before he walks away, he continues, “I’m sure you’ll figure it out, but if you need me for anything, I’m here.”

Sitting behind my desk an hour later, I know I can throw this out to Bren, who has a business management degree. She organized us when we opened the shop, taught us all how to place orders in the computer program. She did all the advertising and social media. The funny thing is we left it with her, and she’s done it ever since. She handles all the media shit because we do not know how to do all that, and don’t want to know. Originally, she was only going to set us up and then leave us to it, but we dragged her ass in to stay with us, checking to ensure the orders remained organized and we didn’t lose the media coverage.

I have no idea why a brother hasn’t been all over her because she is a natural redhead, has beautiful green eyes and a kind, caring, and strong personality. She is mellow for a redhead, but then I have seen no one push her angry button as yet.

Picking up my phone, I send a text.

Rock: Gonna need your help.

It takes a few minutes before I get a reply.

Bren: What’s wrong?

Rock: I have a client I need to fit in, but we may need to do some swapping or something. Or it will mean we gotta work evenings and weekends.

Bren: I’ll stop in tomorrow morning if that is OK?

Rock: Yeah, that’s good.

Bren: OK, I’ll see you around 8:30.

Bren will sort this shit out, I’m sure, and she’ll know how important it is for us to do this work. It’ll not be the first time she’s had to come and sort out clients that need moving around, and I’m more than sure it won’t be the last time, either.

By closing time, I’ve had enough of office work, and walk into the rest area where I grab a drink before taking a seat. One by one, Clay, Dice, Krylon and Fist walk in, grab themselves a drink and sit.

“What’s going on, Rock?” Clay asks.

I quickly fill them in apart from Fist, who already knows what’s going on, about Mikala, what she wants and that I’ve gotten Bren stopping in at the shop in the morning.

“Bren will organize it. She’s good at moving shit around to fit stuff in. She’ll speak to any clients that need moving.” Clay grins, and we all know that sometimes clients get touchy about having to wait a little longer.

Krylon grins. “Have any of you heard her putting a client in their place? I've heard her once, and fuck, she sure lives up to having red hair.”

Krylon’s mention of red hair has me thinking of ‘Red’, and I’m doing my best to not give in to the interest she has piqued.

“I’ve heard her, and fuck, she told him he was an asshole and if he wanted his hog sprayed, he’d shut his mouth or go elsewhere.” Dice chuckles before continuing, “I walked away ‘cause I didn’t want that attitude firing my way.”

“I’ll let you know if Bren gets it sorted out, but if I’m honest, I know she will.”

Fist speaks, “She will. She’s a damn goldmine to us. I can’t understand why she’s never put her degree to full use. She’s still cleaning the garage house and the sheriff’s department. In fact, she helps wherever she’s asked.”

“You know she cleaned out the private discussion area, restrooms and in here last week? I don’t think she even charges us to do that.” Clay adds.

“Well, I’ll speak to Alf because she should charge for the time she puts in as a cleaner. I’ll throw her something by TwoCents for helping with the media and shit, too.” I make myself a note on my phone, and feel a bit disgusted with myself that I keep using a note app on my phone to keep up with everything. If I’m not careful, I’ll be like BS with his fuckin’ pencil and notebook, then everyone will take the piss outta me.

“That’s good, Rock. You do that and I’ll mention to her when I see her. We’ve had a few conversations lately, and she’s let slip she’s working a hell of a lot of hours. Not sure why, mind you.” Clay rubs his chin in thought, but nobody adds anything, so it must mean they are as clueless as I am.

“Okay, the reason I wanted to call us together tonight was, the place next door has come up for sale. Do we want to put it forward? We buy the place and split the cages and hogs. The business stays the same, just that we will have two buildings instead of one.” I immediately see the interest on everyone’s face.

“Yeah, I’m up for that. We have been saying we need to take on more help, so this would be a perfect time to split it, but keep everything close.” Dice sits forward in his seat, then continues, “I’m sure Axel and the brothers will be up for this. They’ve had to wait for their hogs to be done because we’ve been so busy.”

“I’ve an idea of someone we can grab to work with us,” Krylon says, but he looks nervous about spitting it out.

“Who?” I ask.

“You’ve all seen the graffiti behind the old warehouse on Ridgeway Road? I know who’s doing it, and he’s a fuckin’ talented artist.” Krylon looks a little more nervous, but he continues regardless.

“What are you not telling us?” I ask.

“He’s living in the old warehouse ‘cause his parents kicked him out. He wouldn’t give them his salary each month, and that was the result. He gave them a good portion of what he earned. He wasn’t living off of them.”

“What does he do for a living?” Fist leans forward, showing interest.

“He’s been working at the Mall doing security, but he hates it.” Krylon stands and takes his mug to the sink, where he rinses it out and leaves it on the drainer.

“Hm, tell him to call in here. He can do some cleanup for us if nothing else. He needs to get somewhere to live, too.”

“What about at the garage house? We still have an empty room there and if he pays the same portion we all do, I can’t see why not, unless he’s gonna be trouble that is?” Fist looks at Krylon.

“No, he’s a good man, and he’s much younger than us, only twenty-two, I believe.” Krylon leans against the sink and waits.

“I’ll speak to Pres because he has the last word on shit like this. But we could put him to work around the businesses if we have to, just for the time being at least.” I rub the bridge of my nose because today has been way too long and I’ve had enough. “Come on, let’s close up and go eat, or you know Meat will not be a happy brother.”