1. Lash

1

LASH

"Now this is how you throw a party." Spike laughs as he reaches out and grabs the closest woman to him, palming her ass. She gasps before she giggles and collapses against him.

"That's right, brother. Show her who's boss." I smirk at him but shake my head at his display.

The air in the clubhouse is thick with weed smoke and musk. The place is swarming with women and hangarounds. Usually, that's not the case in here, but Nisa has put Leo in a very good mood. In fact, my president has been in a good mood ever since we've gotten rid of Marc. I'm pretty sure his ol' lady could tell him to bring her the moon, and he'd hop on his bike and go get it for her.

"You going to go find you a piece of ass?" Spike asks as he drapes his arm around the woman he just groped.

"You know it, brother. I'm looking for something special tonight." My eyes scan the room, and I clock every woman in attendance. Unfortunately, I'm not looking at them because I want to fuck them, but just to make sure no one is in here to start any trouble.

Having this many people in our clubhouse is making my scars itch. After the bombing, I can't seem to relax. I know Marc is gone, and there's no one else we need to be worried about right now, but still, living through something like that is enough to give me a little bit of PTSD.

"Don't wait too long, brother. You know how the guys in here are; you'll find yourself having a date with your palm tonight if you don't hurry up." Spike laughs again before he leans down and grabs the woman in front of him by her thighs so he can toss her over his shoulder, caveman style. That's Spike's only style. He's a damn brute. Hell, we all are.

Squeezing myself through the dance floor, doing my best not to jostle anyone, I walk over to the bar and grab hold of the bottle of Hennessy. I don't even bother to ask for a glass. This is going to be mine tonight.

"Everything okay, sugar?" Misty asks as she leans forward on the bar top. Her shirt is so tight and short, I'm sure if she breathes hard, her tits are going to pop out of the fabric. That'd be something to see. Not that I haven't seen it already. I've had Misty quite a few times, and I know if worst comes to worst, she'll have no issue letting me rail her until the sun comes up.

I'm just not feeling it tonight. "Yeah, I'm straight." I nod once before turning my back to her. I hear her huff out a sigh. She was probably thinking that I would come on to her tonight. Who knows? The night is still young.

"Lash." I hear my president's booming voice over the loud music and the laughter of people having a good time. Instantly, a cold sweat breaks out over my brow, and I push back through the crowd so I can get to him. This shit can't be happening again. Not tonight.

I groan and shove one of the hangarounds hard when he doesn't get out of my way fast enough. My eyes scan the distance for Leo. I see the back of his head. His body language is telling me that something is wrong, but I can't see his face.

The last time we had a party and something went wrong, it was because Nisa tried to have us blown to kingdom come. Sure, she had her reasons, but who's to say that shit won't happen again? At least from someone else.

By the time I get to Leo, my heart is beating a million miles an hour in my chest, and I'm still searching the area for the threat. There's always a fucking threat.

"Boss?" I come to stand next to him, but he doesn't stop looking in the direction he's focused on. I do my best to follow his line of sight, but there are so many people in the building that I can't see for sure who he's looking at.

"Did you put out an open invitation to the Hands of Hell?" Leo growls, and my rapid beating heart silences and drops to the pit of my gut. Ever since that crap with Nisa and Marc went down, we've had a semi-peaceful alliance with the Hands of Hell. We don't fuck with them, and they don't fuck with us, but that doesn't mean we want them on our turf. Not at all.

"No, fuck no." I answer quickly and continue to look out into the crowd, trying to find the Hands of Hell member. Now that I know who I'm looking for, it's easier to spot them. Two of their members, clad in their Hands of Hell kuttes, are standing just on the other side of the room, talking to two of the strippers we've invited to show us a good time.

"Let's go make sure they're not here to start any trouble." Leo snaps and starts moving forward. Unlike me, when Leo moves, so does everyone else. He doesn't have to push his way through the hangarounds or the strippers in attendance. They move to the side for him, parting like the damn Red Sea.

Seconds later, the two Hands of Hell members look up at Leo, and the greasy smile they were just wearing turns into a sinister smirk. They know they aren't welcome here, but they also know that we're not going to start any shit with them unless they provoke it. At least Leo isn't. He's all about talking shit these days. As the enforcer of the club, I find I do my best talking with my fists and the array of weapons I have stashed away in my room. Blood is my best friend, and I'm more than willing to have a meeting with it tonight.

"What the hell are you two doing here?" Leo asks as we get closer to them.

"Easy, big man, we're not here to start any trouble," one of them says. I don't know either of them, and from the look of it, they are very high up in the ranks. If they were, they'd know better than to talk to Leo like that.

"I asked you a fucking question. Either you tell me what the fuck you're doing here, or I'll have my boys toss you the fuck out."

The three of them stare at each other a minute too long. Just that look alone seems like a threat—one I can handle in a second without anyone being any the wiser.

"Leo?" I hear Spike call out, and when I look over my shoulder, I see a few of my brothers walking in my direction. They must see what we're doing over here. If there's one thing I can say about Chrome Creed, it's that we'll do whatever we have to keep each other whole. It's a true brotherhood through and through, even though none of us are actually blood-related.

"You've got about three seconds before tonight ends very badly for you." I snarl and take a step forward, getting between my president and the two intruders.

"Like I said, take it easy. We came here with a message and saw that you were having a party. You can't blame us when you have all this sweet trim running around." The man in front of me says and has the intelligence to take a step back.

Looking over my shoulder at Leo, he nods his head, and I let the two of them talk.

"What message did you come here with?" Leo asks, already calming the situation down.

"Our president wants to meet up with you. There's a business opportunity that he feels would benefit both clubs. Can you meet with him on Friday?" The Hands of Hell member asks, and I groan at the words. Not that I don't want to make money, but I was really hoping this asshole would say something out of pocket so I could knock his teeth down his throat.

Leo glares at the man for a second before one of the strippers walks up and puts a hand on his chest. He drops his gaze to her and grabs hold of her wrist.

"Sorry, sweetness, I'm not playing tonight."

The woman pouts for a second before turning her eyes to me.

"You really think I'm about to be your second choice? You better get the hell on." I fling my hand in her direction to let her know that under no circumstances am I that desperate. She could have at least walked away and tried from a different angle.

Besides, I've got business to attend to. I can get my dick wet another time.

"So what's it going to be?" The Hands of Hell member crosses his arms over his chest while his patch mate looks on. I can see the sweat beading on both of their foreheads.

I'd be scared too if I were them. They are in the lion's den and are trying to act like big bad killers. It's a mistake. They wouldn't even make it out the door before the group of us made an example out of them. At least that was before. Now Leo is all about peace and harmony.

It's a bit sickening.

"Yeah, I'll be there." Leo nods his head and turns on his heel, leaving me to deal with the two of them.

"Your business is done." I growl in their direction.

"True, but you all still have an entire clubhouse of available women; surely you can spare two or three." He smiles at me like we're friends, and I have to stop myself from punching him square in the face.

"Take who you want if they want to leave, but make that shit quick. If I look over here again and see you, we're going to have a problem." I keep my eyes glued on them, and he nods his head once again before reaching out for the woman he was previously trying to spit game to. I can tell she's uncomfortable.

"You straight, beautiful?" I ask, and she paints a smile on her face before she leans back into the wolf in our midst. Her choice.

I shrug and turn on my heel to walk back through the crowd. I don't need to stand there and listen to whatever it is that those bozos are going to say.

Rumble catches up to me as I'm making my way through the crowd again.

"Everything good?" He asks, looking over my shoulder at the two Hands of Hell members.

"Yeah, we're straight. They'll be out of here in the next few minutes." I clap him on the shoulder and pull the bottle of Hennessy I still have clutched in my hand up to my lips. I take a deep swig, trying to calm my nerves down. The threat is over. At least for right now.

That means I can focus on the more entertaining aspects of the night.

"Hey! Get the hell down! What the hell do you think this is?" My head snaps in the direction I hear Tella. He's screaming at one of the women. He's never been the nicest of us, but he's a bit overprotective of the clubhouse. After all, it was him and his people who basically built the clubhouse back up from scratch after the bombing.

I watch as he grabs hold of one of the women who is dancing on one of the tabletops. His hands slide on her thighs, and I chuckle as I watch him grimace.

"What the hell are you wearing, Crisco? Why the fuck are you so slippery?" Tella snarls before putting the woman down in front of him.

"I'm pretty sure she's slippery to make it a better ride," I offer as I get next to him.

"Fuck that, I'm not fucking up my sheets on that ride." He shivers with disgust before turning the woman away from him and slightly pushing her toward the crowd.

He lifts his hands and grimaces at the look of the shiny stuff on his hands. I don't know if it's sweat or baby oil, but it's all over him.

"You look like you're having about as much fun as I am," Tella shouts over the music, and I focus on him once again.

I thought I was doing better at hiding that shit from my face, but I guess I'm not.

"Yeah man, I'm all for having a good time, but I'm on edge."

"There's a sure-fire way to fix that." Tella gestures with his hands at the women all around. Some of them are dancing to the music we've got blasting through the system. Others are sitting with the rest of my brothers. There's even some holding up the wall. I don't remember the last time our clubhouse was filled with this much pussy.

I feel like a complete wuss. I'm looking for someone trying to blow the joint up when I could be in my room right now blowing some chick's back out. Talk about having my priorities messed up.

"Yeah, I'm working on it." I smirk before pulling the bottle of Hennessy back up to my lips and taking another long swig.

I look over to the side and see Spike with three women making his way to his bedroom. At least I know for sure one of my brothers is going to have a good time.

I need to get in on this before all the good ones are taken.

I lean back against the table that Tella just pulled the woman down off of and wait for one of the girls to come over to me. None of them approach. I'm used to that.

According to the people who don't know me very well, I have "I'm a killer" tattooed across my forehead. It's true, I am a killer, but I can be a nice guy if I feel like it. Let's just say with the added liquid courage running through my veins and a semi-chub hanging heavy between my legs, I'm open to being very nice to one of these women.

I look to the right and see Zero and Saint in an animated conversation with a group of women. They are pros when it comes to this charisma shit. Creek and Feather are talking to one woman in particular, and I'm nearly worried that she's about to bite off more than she can chew. It's known to everyone in the club that those two like to tag team women. Most of the time, the girls end up nearly crawling out of their bedroom with a big smile on their faces. I don't want to have to arrange for anyone to get a ride home tonight if I don't have to.

It takes me a moment to realize that I'm still looking for something to go wrong instead of looking for the one I'm going to have some fun with.

I pull the bottle to my lips again and chug, only to realize that I've gone through whatever was left in the bottle. My head sways slightly from side to side, and I fight against my innate need to find the threat.

None of the women are calling to me, but just before I'm ready to call it a night, I see her. A red-haired vixen standing with her arms crossed over her chest, leaning against the wall. She's got the same look on her face I assume I have on mine. She's not here for fun. Too bad, because she's exactly who I want to play with.