Page 15 of Savage Lust

No warning bells.

“Let me take you on a tour.” Jester steered me to a well-lit hallway behind the stairs.

He dropped his arm when we rounded the corner. The walls were lined with pictures and framed leather vests, even a flag or two. Two large, wooden doors dominated the end of the hall. The Desert King MC insignia—a skull with piston crossbones and a crooked crown—burned into them.

“Archer and AP rode dirt bikes together growing up, followed along behind a bunch of outlaw motorcycle clubs in southern Cali. Archer served a few tours in the middle east, then came back and decided he needed space and freedom but missed the brotherhood. He collected some guys, came here, built bikes, and sold weed. The MC was born from that.”

Which one was which, I wondered, searching the faded image of several men of various ages. Jester gestured with a long, nimble finger, with dark lines soaked into the skin. He pointed to a tall man, older than the others, all the way to the left. “Goat. Got creamed by a semi when I was first patched in.” Then to the man beside him. “AP.”

“He could never deny Merc.” His father could have been his double, save for the devilish grin. When Merc did smile, it was like he wasn’t sure he was doing it right.

“Yup.”

He moved down the wall a few paces and nodded to another image. This one less faded and without the orange hue. Brighter, three young men all in vests, laughing together. I recognized AP and Archer, but the other…

“Who?”

“Preacher. Before he got fat.” He sniggered. “Archer brought him back with them from the desert.”

I took another swallow of tequila and leaned a little closer to Jester who placed the tips of the fingers of his freehand against the small of my back. Unlike when Preacher had touched me, this was light and companionable. I didn’t feel like I should be jerking away.

He was attractive, but in a different way than Cam. Both dangerous, but Jester more agreeable.

“Are a lot of the guys ex-military?”

“Yeah, some of them.” He tossed his bottle into a trashcan behind us and took my tequila for a long swig before making a face.

“Any of the younger guys military, too?”

He shook his head. “Well, Merc was for a little while. Coincidentally, if you need any guns—for the zombie apocalypse or whatever—he’s your man.”

“Zombies?”

“Yup.” He laughed and handed me back my bottle. “Hey, our government has been known to do some weird shit. I’m convinced Area Fifty-One isn’t aliens at all.”

There were worse things than being prepared. Amused, I moved to a group of pictures on a table beside the double doors. These pictures were more official. Five men hovered around a large oak table. The picture tinted almost brown and faded. Then six, the faces changing—some aging, some new. I followed them all the way to the most current.

My father was there, at the head of that table. So were AP, Preacher, Cam, Merc, and Jester.

“The table,” he said, as if that told me everything I needed to know.

“What’s that mean?”

“Officers, governing body of the Desert Kings.” He puffed up, full of pride. “I’m Road Captain.”

“That makes you something special, huh?” I teased and thumped him on his chest, though I had no idea what he was talking about.

“I mean…” He wiped at something invisible on his shoulder and preened a little. “If you’re ever of the mind to find out, I could take you for a ride sometime.”

“Or not.” The voice from the end of the hall was so cold the temperature dropped twenty degrees.

Jester whistled long and low, and I hugged the bottle to my chest.

Cam leaned against the door frame and jerked his chin back out in the main part of the clubhouse. I wanted to shout at him. The past fifteen or so minutes had been the most fun I’d had in weeks. I opened my mouth, shut it, and managed to glare at him.

Jester wasn’t bothered at all. He chuckled and strolled down the hall. Smacking Cam on the shoulder as he went.

Cam watched him quietly before making his way toward me. I ducked away, focusing on the pictures, to keep from watching the way the black t-shirt bunched and shifted as he walked.

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