Page 16 of Toxic Biker

“That’s great. I’m happy for you, man.”

“Happy?” he teases and gestures to me. “She must be the cause of that, you sulking prick,” Chaos says and flashes his stare to me. “This one is usually so fucked up when we see each other, I was beginning to take it personally. Figured he didn’t like my company,” he jests.

Asher laughs again and gives him the finger, dropping his hand to grab mine. Chaos doesn’t comment in return, just whistles low; brows raised. It’s hard for me to believe Asher doesn’t usually have a line of women waiting to be on his arm, even around these guys, but each time another guy is surprised to see me, it solidifies the fact he’s not with a lot of women. It probably shouldn’t make me this pleased to discover as much, but it does. I guess he’s not the only territorial one between the two of us.

We’re met by a few others when we get inside with more handshakes and back-slapping. I thought bikers were supposed to not like other bikers? Now that I’m here and seeing them together, I realize that belief makes no sense. Of course they’d be friends with other bikers, they literally have everything in common.

A few guys comment toPlagueabout the RBMC letters hastily written on my back in the black grease that will surely leave a stain behind, marking me forever. I remain quiet, keeping my thoughts and opinions to myself while tucked into Asher’s side. It’s not that they aren’t nice or anything, because they’re friendly and several are even gorgeous to boot, but I’m not really sure what to do or say in this situation. Then toss in the fact that anyone who is not Chaos who comments about me being hot or whatever gets growled at.

I feel like I just stepped into the Stone Age with Asher’s chest literally rumbling from anger and possessiveness in their direction like a crazy beast. These are his people, though, so I just let him do his thing, wondering where this person was kept hidden the entire time I was growing up. He was so calm and cool; I never would’ve thought he had a possessive bone in his body, but add him to a biker club, and suddenly, he has me questioning if they pee on their belongings, too.

Men can be so dumb. Don’t they realize that if a woman truly cares about them that another doesn’t hold a chance in hell at stealing them away?

If Asher wants me, I’m his.

Chapter 7

You weren't just a star to me. You were the whole damn sky. - Unknown

Plague

I swear if another fucker comments about her, I’m going to lose my mind and end up dead from fighting all these damn Oath Keepers MC members. I know they’re doing it to fuck with me, but still. There’s not a doubt in my mind if I hadn’t made it known right away that she’s mine, they’d be all over her trying to fuck. It’s just another reason why I’ve never wanted a permanent woman in my life, it’s more for me to deal with, especially when it comes to Lacey. She’s the sort of beautiful where she doesn’t realize just how gorgeous she is, and then add in all her curves. Wide hips, fat ass, and big tits, all my favorite places, making her any sane man’s dream come true.

The cold beer goes down, tasting like ash as my jealousy rolls through my gut. I need something stronger, but with her on the back of my bike, it won’t happen. I’m her protector, always have been, and I won’t fuck it up in other ways. She sits on my lap; I didn’t give her the time to pick another chair but hooked my arm around her waist and pulled her with me. She’s sat here ever since, her perfect body making me hot all over. Once the guys started sniffing around, I made sure to wrap one arm under her tits and the other across her lap, my fingers laying possessively over her cunt. My stiff shoulders tell the world I’ll go to fucking war over this woman.

Dare me.

We chill at one of the many tables in the bar, they’re positioned along each wall. In the middle area, there are black leather coaches and a couple pool tables as well. It’s similar to our club, only much, much bigger. A few brothers sit on the couches with club sluts draped over them, tits in their faces, while others crowd around the pool tables. The breaking clash of balls is a constant background noise amongst many others as their pool sticks slam into the cue balls while two games are played at once. Shit talking instantly strikes up as they declare who’s the better players and who not to bet on.

“I brought you a fresh soda,” Hollywood, Chaos’ ol’ lady, sets the plastic cup in front of Lacey. She instantly earns a bright smile and a thank you in return. I can’t believe Chaos made the bitch happy enough that she’d ever leave from hiding behind the bar and actually speak to people. Hell, at our club, we all thought she was an uppity bitch too good for us because she wouldn’t say more than two words to any of us, no matter how hard we tried. Poor Whiskey had no idea what to do with her, and Angel practically adored her ass since she was as solemn as he is. Then, one day, Chaos showed up with his dimples, wide smile, and easy charm, and then took our best bartender with him on his way out.

“Chaos said you own a business?” Lacey asks, and I tune them out as they fall into easy conversation over their respective careers. It’s like watching a completely different woman; I guess that’s what meeting the right person can do to you, though, bring out the best in you, and Hollywood was fucking miserable at our club. I didn’t realize it then, but I can easily see it now.

Viking, the massive sized OKMC president, steals my attention as he quietly shares, “Exterminator’s on a run at the border. I asked him to keep an eye out for your friend.” He flicks his gaze around, always watching and taking in his surroundings. I guess having your club attacked once, no matter how long ago it happened, is enough to keep you on edge forever. I know I wouldn’t be able to relax the same, but you’d think a club this size wouldn’t have to worry so much about shit like that going down. I can still remember Ripper’s shock as he’d shared how he thought the OKMC had possibly been buried, but that was before we were somewhat friendly with their members, so we didn’t have much information on the situation. Turns out the chapter nearby rode over to help as soon as they found out, and luckily, they were able to recover from it.

It’s just another reason why I would’ve patched over if Ripper went through with the vote—the members here have each other’s backs. I’m not a brother in this MC and yet Viking is already doing more for me than I’d ever expect him or any of the others to. His massive, mean exterior may make a grown man shit themselves, and they’d have good reason to, but I’ve learned if you don’t cross the president, then you have nothing to worry over.

It’s Saint, the easy-going looking one here that’s the true fucking psychopath. Or Twist, at the other OKMC clubhouse down the way. Both brothers are hellraisers to their cores.

“Appreciate it. Ex can call me if he needs more info,” I respond, watching as the club starts to get a little rowdier. We’ve been here awhile talking to various members, hoping to find someone who knows something, but it’s been another dead end. No one seems to have an inside man or a good contact to someone in this particular cartel. The Oath Keepers are in a constant fight to get heroin out of their territory, so if anyone knew shit about the cartels or had contacts in any of them, it’d be these guys above others in this area. Whoever Seth got in bed with is a fucking ghost, which only leads me further to believe it’s the newly established El Pecado cartel. I should tell Lacey he’s already dead and be done with it, wipe my hands of the problem, but the thought of her so fucked up over his death is what pushes me to keep exhausting my resources.

“I’ll pass your number on to him.” He nods and continues, “El Pecado is too new on the scene, so we haven’t had many run-ins with them yet. Coming out of Columbia, I’m hoping it remains that way with the shit I’ve been hearing.” You know it’s truly bad when Viking doesn’t want to run into them; the man is a goddamn savage when he wants to be. There are stories all over central Texas about Viking and his brothers, and clubs know to leave them the fuck alone. You don’t want on these guys’ bad side.

“They’re death,” I mutter, thinking about all the brothers and prominent businesspeople I’ve caught wind of crossing them and ending up dead in the process. The wealthy ones get a mention on the news, while the brothers dying get passed along through the clubs. The news is no longer reporting the actualnews,though, so I shouldn’t be surprised they barely mention the lethal cartel and the repercussions of getting tangled up with them. Unless you’re down south, you won’t know what truly goes on down here and how dangerous it’s become just to exist in society.

“So are we,” he counters with a gruff warning, and I nod. Sure, the Oath Keepers MC have a violent reputation and are feared. Their numbers alone make most clubs back off, but the Columbian cartel is the cartel, no matter if it’s a new faction or not. They have soldiers like fucking cock roaches, constantly coming out of the woodwork, never actually dying off. Viking’s a smart man, though, he’ll keep his members safe, there’s no doubt in my mind. The last fuckers from Mexico to cross him, they played special forces and basically blew up an entire Mexican heroin compound south of the border. I’ll never forget the day I heard one of the brother’s was attacked by a lion, craziest shit I’d ever heard.

Maybe I should mention it to Ripper to consider the patch over again. I love our club, but to wear the OKMC colors, well, I wouldn’t mind that either and we’d have more brothers right down the road, two full charters worth. Lacey would be safer than she’d ever been before if I had their cut on my back.

“We’ve got to get going. I don’t know if anyone’s been tailing her, so I’ve been trying to keep her at the club aside from checking out a few spots. I knew she’d be safe if we came here, but I don’t want to put your club in jeopardy. You’re already doing more than anybody else would for a brother from another MC.”

He shrugs, “Putting feelers out is no skin off my back. Besides, someday I may need the same favor in return.”

“Anytime, just say the word.” And I mean it. I know Ripper is the same way after he started to visit with Chaos all the time. It’s good we have friends in other places, it only makes us stronger in the end.

We head out after I say goodbye to several of the brothers. I can’t help but feel discouraged. I’m running out of contacts and with those fucks who are responsible not getting in touch with me yet, it has me at a standstill on what to do next. I could show up at their nightclubs, but I’d end up dead in the process and what good would that do Lacey? It’d leave her exposed, and I refuse to abandon her like the rest of her family has. Discovering her father knew what was going on was shocking, to say the least. He’s always been a decent man, or at least I thought he was. His house was practically my second home for many years, so this not only infuriates me, but it’s also disappointing. A man I somewhat looked up to turned out to not be as great as I’d imagined and no matter who you are, that feeling sucks.

I can sense Lacey’s energy rolling off her. She has something to say, but my frustrated scowl is holding her back. “What?” I manage to ask without too much anger in my voice. She hasn’t pissed me off in any way at all; I’m upset with the situation and am smart enough to know if I’m not careful, she’ll bear the brunt of that anger at the moment.

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