Page 7 of Linc

Linc reaches over and opens his truck door, slowly exiting the vehicle with his hand in the air.

I know right then and there that in trying to give me my freedom, Linc just lost his.

Chapter three

Linc

Six Years Later

It’sbeenmonthsofnonstop partying with a different woman in my bed, or out of it, depending on the mood I’m in. After being released from prison, I was getting back to my real life. Fuck, being locked away for six years was fucking brutal. Will I ever regret what I got sent away for? No. To this day I still don’t. But it would have been nice if Charlie had stuck around and testified on my behalf. Thank God the club has a top-notch attorney, but I could have probably had my sentence reduced for extenuating circumstances had she been at the courthouse.

Our new president, Ozzy, tried to find her, but that girl was in the wind. I’m not particularly bitter about it, not like some of my other brothers, especially Jude. He couldn’t comprehend why someone whose life I’d saved bailed on me. He fails to understand, after what that fuckhead put her through, she’d been terrified of never getting away. There was a desperation I saw in her that he hadn’t. I’ll never blame her for that.

I got out after six years of a ten-year sentence for good behavior and overcrowding. Fortunately, good behavior only counts in prison because since I’ve been out, my behavior has been anything but.

Speaking of bad behavior, I turn to find my latest late night bad decision next to me. I usually don’t let the bunnies stay the night in my bed. Once I’m ready to pass out, there’s no waking me, therefore no reason for them to be here. Since coming back, I sleep like a fucking baby. Most guys are the opposite, but I hardly slept a wink for six years, so I’m catching up.

“Sweetheart,” I tell the sleeping girl in my bed. “You have to get up and go.” I’m not trying to be a dick, but I got shit to do today. Prez decided the celebration had lasted long enough, and it’s time to get down to business. We’re going on a run later today, and we need to finalize everything before we can take off.

“Stacia, honey, come on, up and at ’em.”

She groans into the pillow and reaches for me with her hand going straight to my cock. Letting out a soft moan, her hand rubs over the bulge in my boxer briefs.

“Up and at ’em sounds like a plan to me,” she says in her most seductive voice.

A chuckle escapes me, and I grab her hand kissing the back of it. Never let it be said I’m not a gentleman.

“Not this morning, sweetheart. I have business to attend to.”

She gives me a little pout then rolls over and sits up. Watching her bare tits bounce as she pulls up her tiny shorts has me rethinking my time crunch. I probably have ten minutes to spare… The loud bang on my door shakes me out of my wayward thoughts.

“Let’s go, asshole. Put away your tiny prick and get to church.” Jude is just as much of a cockblock today as he was six years ago.

“Fuck off,” I call back and rise from the bed.

Casting one more look in Stacia’s direction, I appreciate the black lace bra that barely contains her perky tits.

“See you when you get back,” she sings before blowing me a kiss and heading out the door.

As much as I wouldn’t mind having the afternoon to fuck around with her, I’m looking forward to going on a long run. After being locked up for so long, I’ve taken my bike out nearly every day. Not a day went by in lock-up that I didn’t miss the sound of the engine roaring down the open road. Being home and reuniting with my brothers has been everything I knew it would be, but when I got on my bike for the first time, my soul felt at peace. I may have even shed a tear, but no one talks about that.

Church is full by the time I stroll in. I take my seat next to my brother, Knox, The MC’s vice president. He looks me over and quirks his lip.

“You have a little something right there,” He points to the spot just behind his own ear, and I wipe at mine. My finger comes away with hot pink lipstick smeared across the tip. I give him a wry grin and shrug. My brother chuckles as Ozzy slams the gavel to start the meeting.

A few things have changed since I went away, namely Ozzy, Trick’s son, is the new president. When Trick’s arthritis got so bad he couldn’t grip his handlebars anymore, he decided it was time to retire. Now he and my mom are living it up and happy as pigs in shit. I’m sure she sleeps a little better at night, knowing at least one of the men in her life is safe. Not that she would ever say it out loud. My mom loves this club and everything it’s done for our family.

“Alright. The route has been set up for the run today,” Ozzy starts. “The Irish have a crew who will meet you in Texas, and they’ll be responsible for getting the shit over the border. Four days to get there and four back. Obviously, we aren’t expecting any trouble, and I don’t want you guys pushing it. This is one of the biggest runs we’ve done for them. Let’s ride under the radar. Linc, Jude and Wyatt, you three will take your bikes. Barrett, you’re in the van.”

“A road captain in a van.” Barrett lets out an irritated sigh. “What is the world coming to?”

Ozzy gives him a look that tells him to shut the hell up. He isn’t the sort of prez not to hear his guys out, but when he’s giving orders right before a run, he’s not about to change his game plan for any grumbling asshole.

“Boys, make sure everyone has the coordinates and the route locked in their phones. You roll out in an hour.” Ozzy slams the gavel, ending church, and everyone in the room stands to leave.

“How you feel about going on a run?” my brother asks when we’re the only two left in the room.

“Great. Can’t wait for the long days on my bike and hopefully long nights in some pretty young thing’s bed.” I shoot him a carefree smirk.

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