Page 26 of Calypso's Shield
FARRIS
Being a prospect for the Royal Bastards MC is exactly what I’m expecting. They’re putting me through hell and I’m fucked up enough that I enjoy it.
I went from solving cases and taking down criminals, so far over the white line, I didn’t know where my ass went to, to fetching beer and being one of the first in line for any shit job the high ranking members can think of.
I’ve learned a lot about the hierarchy of an MC Club, and I still get the side eye from some members, but I’m making my way and proving I can be trusted. I’m not the only prospect here, and I’m not the oldest, but I’m not the youngest, and I’m the newest. So, I pay my dues.
Every day is a test. Every interaction is a challenge.
I’m learning quickly that respect isn’t given, it’s earned. And Capone has the highest respect from all the brothers to the Ol’ Ladies, even down to the Patch Bunnies.
Capone and Danyella have a little girl named Nina. I shouldn’t say little because she’s almost a teen, but she’s stilllittle in her Dad’s eyes. She’s the oldest out of the kids the Club has dubbed Little Bastards. The twins are next, Jaxson and Mara Jean, who are Torch and Daisy’s. Then Jezebelle, who is Derange’s Ol’ Lady, has an older son named Seth, who is prospecting with me, and they have a little girl named Naomi. Red, the Tech Guy, and his Ol’ Lady Nadia have a little boy they named Matthew, after his Dad.
Aftermath and Kensi don’t have any kids yet, and it’s not for a lack of trying. I’ve caught them in very compromising positions while I’ve been here. Some images I want to scrub from my brain, but it’s impossible.
Blayze and Monica can’t have kids, so they spoil all the Club kids every chance they get. Trigger and Aerianna, who used to be a FED, are new in their relationship and haven’t had that discussion yet, but from the look in Aerianna’s eyes, I’m sure it’ll be coming soon.
The single guys, Dagger, Bones, Seth, and Knight, all soak up the attention of the Club Bunnies, Pearl, Booty, Khandi, Lexi, and April. All except Tiny, Pretty Boy, and myself. Many of the Bunnies have tried, but all have been shot down.
I don’t know their reasons for turning down easy lays, but mine stands around five feet eight inches tall, with legs for miles, flowing jet black hair, piercing green eyes, and tattoos that cover every inch of her arms, named Calypso.
She’s been pretty quiet the last couple of weeks, and that is worrying me. Did she decide I’m not worth the trouble? Did she go back with her ex?
I can’t get any answers because she won’t talk to me. I’ve texted her several times like a pussy, and all I get in return are short one-word answers. She has my head spinning since day one. Even now, weeks into this life, she still has that hold over me.
It’s late on a Sunday night. The Club just got back from a run, which I couldn’t go on yet. I step outside to do the bitch work of washing Capone and Blayze’s bike, and there Calypso is. She’s sitting on her Harley, the fading sun turning her black hair into silk. Her cut fits her body like it was made for her. She’s watching me with a playful smirk on her lips.
“You surviving, Law Dog?” Calypso teases. I got my road name moments after my boots hit the Clubhouse floor. All the members started calling meLaw Dogbecause I used to be a cop. A damn good cop, turned outlaw, but I still hang onto some habits which have come in handy when the members try to prank me.
I run a hand through my hair. “Barely.” It’s the truth. These jobs are hard, but they’re worth it.
Calypso chuckles, kicking her boot against the pavement. “You’re learning fast. They might make a real biker out of you yet.”
I step closer, standing between her legs, placing my hands on the leather seat. She doesn’t move or push me away. If anything, her green gaze darkens.
“You like having me here?” I ask, my voice low.
Calypso arches an eyebrow. “I like watching you struggle.”
I smirk, gripping the seat a little tighter. “I bet you do.”
For a moment, the teasing disappears, replaced with something deeper. A pull between us that neither of us can ignore.
Calypso shifts against the seat, breaking the moment. “Come on, Law Dog. Take me for a ride.”
I don’t hesitate. Consequences be damned. If my woman wants me to take her for a ride, then that’s what I’ll do. I strap on my brain bucket, climb on my bike, and wait for Calypso to get on behind me. After she puts her helmet on and wraps herarms around my waist, she presses her body into mine, I feel it. Something I haven’t felt in years, if ever.
A sense of belonging. And maybe something more.
The weight of Calypso against my back feels like a brand. She isn’t the type to ride bitch, not for anyone.
Settling in behind me, she mutters against my Prospect cut. “Don’t make me regret this, Law Dog.”
I’m not planning on it. The roar of the engine beneath us drowns out everything else as we tear down the open highway. The city lights are fading behind us, swallowed by the stretch of dark winding roads along the coastline. The ocean gleams under the moonlight. Endless and wild, the wind hits my face like a whisper of danger.
Calypso’s arms wrap tighter around my waist as I shift gears, pushing my bike faster. She’s holding onto me like she belongs here, like she’s trusting me to keep her safe.
The trust she is instilling in me is a bigger rush than speeding.
