13. Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

Anarchy, California

"Kingpin." Murder lifts his chin, stretching out a hand to shake the hand of the President of the RBMC Nashville chapter. A man with a reputation larger than life. No one fucks with Kingpin without suffering the consequences. He's been a damn good ally to us over the years.

"How's that songbird wife of yours?"

The smirk that crosses his features at the mention of Eve says it all. The man is smitten with family life.

The waitress who has been serving us our beer rushes over with another glass and refill on our pitcher as he takes a seat opposite side of the table from me. East, our VP, wasn't able to make the ride to Anarchy. Out in California. Every June Kings of Anarchy MC hosts a rally .

This is my first time making the ride. Thought I'd be making it with Ember, but shit happens, and plans change. I shake out of my own thoughts and listen in on the conversation happening.

"Give us a minute," Murder rumbles.

I shove off to the nearby bar but can overhear their conversation if I listen hard enough since I'm practically standing behind Murder watching his back just as Irish is looking out for Kingpin. You can't miss him with his striking red hair nor mistake his accent.

"Fuck. I can't scratch my balls without that bastard trying to stick his hands down my pants," Kingpin mutters and Murder chuckles.

"He's a joke. Never was fit for his title. Someone should have put him down already."

A sly grin crosses Kingpin's face. "You know me. I always have a backup plan. Have you decided what you're going to do?"

"That's the million-dollar question."

"Indeed."

Those rumors I've been catching wind of aren't merely rumors. Prez is meeting with Big Daddy sometime this weekend to talk about options and what a patch over could mean for all of us. There's been some whispers that our Cloud Nine problem has been a fucking attack on us from a national level. Something that doesn't sit right with any of us. That after all these years, our loyalty and patches have meant nothing to a certain individual. Why else would he try to destroy not only our city and reputation, but our club.

All in the name of greed and power.

Piece of shit. I'd do us all a favor and take him out if I could get close enough.

Pussy motherfucker didn't show up like he was supposed to. Gave some bullshit excuse. No doubt knew what would be waiting for him if he did.

Their conversation shifts to motorcycles and titties.

Speaking of nice racks.

I turn my attention back to the gorgeous girl who has been serving us beer for the past hour.

"Thought you had a girl back home." Madz eyes me suspiciously.

She's a club girl with KOAMC. The mood I'm in, trying to forget about my problems with Ember and the fact she's here with fucking Creed, has me thinking maybe a move to a new club wouldn't be a bad thing.

I cap a palm to my neck. "Not anymore."

"You wouldn't lie to a girl, would you?"

"Not in my nature."

"Hmm." She purses her red lips at me, swirling her straw around her drink as she leans forward on the bar, showing off her ample cleavage.

"What time do you get off?"

"That depends on you."

"I can work pretty damn fast." I grin and she smiles.

"My shift ends in twenty."

"Perfect."

Hound resumes his post watching Murder's back and I make a date with a sassy little thing and her perky tits.

"How long you plan on sticking around, Smoke?" Madz, goes up on an elbow on the floor of my tent.

"You know the score. Be here till the end of the rally, then head back east." Face my life choices. My latest fuckup. My thoughts shift to Ember and the pain laced in her voice when she walked up on me with my cock shoved down Angel's throat. And how she's been smiling on Creed's arm and riding on the back of his bike this past week.

"I think we're riding back to Arkansas in a day or two." She yawns and I don't want to be a dick and kick her out, but I got what I wanted and now I'm over this flirtation. "Penny for your thoughts. You look like you're a million miles away right now. "

"I screwed up."

"Want to talk about it? I can give you a non-biased female perspective."

"Hmm," I mumble. "You sure you want to hear my problems?"

"Good thing for you I don't charge by the hour," she teases. "Try me. It has to be better than my current situation."

"What's got you so fucked up?"

"I'll never have the man I'm in love with."

"Why? He married or something?" I shift from my side to my back, adjusting my lump of dirty clothes that's serving as my current pillow.

"I'm a club girl. You know the score."

"Stranger things have happened." I wet my lips, staring at the dome ceiling of the tent where someone stuck glow in the dark star stickers. "Which one is he?"

"Gray. The Vice President."

We share a knowing look. High-ranking club officers rarely make ol' ladies of clubwhores. Especially not the VP.

"What can I say? I aim high." She gets this sad, far off look in her eyes. One I know I can't be the one to fix. She knows it too.

"Tough lot, sweetheart."

"Yeah," she whispers. "Enough about me. What happened to your girlfriend?"

"I don't know."

Pinching one of my nipples, she presses, "Come on. I shared."

I dive straight into my fucked up choices that landed me here with her instead of with my babydoll. "She's too damn young for me. Was my mistake. Should have never started back up with her."

"You love her." It's more of a statement than a question.

"Unfortunately, and I fucked it up like I do everything else."

"It's never too late."

"You should follow your own advice."

"We both know girls like me don't get the fairytale."

"Not with shoes like that." I kick at her weird rubber shoes with holes in them.

"Don't dis the Crocs."

"What the fuck is that hanging off the back of them?"

"My lady balls." She grins.

"You're a fucking nut."

"Why do you think they call me Madz?"