B*stard: Royal B*stards MC (Texas)

  Royal Bastards MC Texas

  Copyright © 2020 Bastard by Sapphire Knight

  Editing by Mitzi Carroll

  Formatting by Brenda Wright – Formatting Done Wright

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the author.

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

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  WARNING

  This novel includes graphic language and adult situations. It may be offensive to some readers and includes situations that may be hotspots for certain individuals. This book is intended for ages 18 and older due to some steamy spots. This work is fictional. The story is meant to entertain the reader and may not always be completely accurate. Any reproduction of these works without Author Sapphire Knight’s written consent is pirating and will be punished to the fullest extent of the law.

  This book is fiction.

  The guys are over-the-top alphas.

  My men and women are nuts.

  This is not real.

  Don’t steal my shit.

  Read for enjoyment.

  This is not your momma’s cookbook.

  Easily offended people should not read this.

  Don’t be a dick.

  Romance shaming is slut-shaming; don’t be that asshole.

  DO NOT SHARE

  Bastard is for everyone who fell in love with my MCs back in the day when I decided to publish them publicly. This book feels like old-school Sapphire to me, and I hope you all appreciate it. I loved this story, as it came out of nowhere, and those are always my favorites.

  To new readers who are discovering me for the first time, I hope you fall down the rabbit hole and love every minute of it.

  And finally, to my mother, who’s six months clean and sober. I feel like I’m finally getting a chance to have a relationship with you for the first time in my adult life. I’m not usually the praying type, but I’ve been praying that you stick with it. I know it can’t be easy when it’s been a part of your life for so very long. But I like the person you are when you’re like this.

  PROTECT: The club and your brothers come before anything else and must be protected at all costs. Club is family.

  RESPECT: Earn it & Give it. Respect club law. Respect the patch. Respect your brothers. Disrespect a member, and there will be hell to pay.

  HONOR: Being patched in is an honor, not a right. Your colors are sacred, not to be left alone, and never let them touch the ground.

  OL’ LADIES: Never disrespect a member’s or brother’s Ol’ Lady.

  CHURCH: It is mandatory.

  LOYALTY: Takes precedence overall, including well-being.

  HONESTY: Never lie, cheat, or steal from another member or the club.

  TERRITORY: You are to respect your brother’s property and follow their Chapter’s club rules.

  TRUST: Years to earn it...seconds to lose it.

  NEVER RIDE OFF: Brothers do not abandon their family.

  Bastard is part of the Royal Bastard World. Bastard is not affiliated with any other books or Authors aside from being included in this world. You do not need to read any other books to read Bastard. I have not read all the other books in this world and am not responsible for sensitive subjects they may write about in their own stories.

  Ripper – President

  Blow – Vice President

  Whiskey – Treasurer

  Powerhouse – Sgt. At Arms

  Angel - Enforcer

  Plague – Member

  Baker - Member

  Wrench – Member

  Ammo – Prospect sponsored by Powerhouse

  Mouse – Prospect sponsored by Blow

  Manic – Prospect sponsored by Plague

  Lunatic – Prospect Sponsored by Angel

  Special mention of:

  Gamble – President

  Character by Elizabeth Knox

  Dog- deceased

  Character by Elizabeth Knox

  Rancid - President

  Character by Crimson Syn

  MC - Motorcycle Club

  Ol’ Lady – Female significant other

  Chapel - Where Church is held

  Clubhouse/ Compound – MC home base

  Church - MC “meeting”

  Bet – Yes, yep, yeah, okay, fuck yeah, hell yeah, that’s what’s up, …etc.

  (You get the picture)

  Chapter 1

  Make peace with your broken pieces.

  -R.H. Sin

  Another day, another dollar. It’s what I tell myself every single day, especially when it comes to the dancers and the shit that goes down most of the time at the notorious strip club. I’m in the back room flirting with the girls as I always do when I notice a nice ass—currently clenched. She must be new, so I welcome her as I have all the previous girls. “Hey, doll, this your first night?”

  She turns toward my voice, her eyes full of nervousness. “Yeah, I’ve danced before, …but not to a crowd like this.”

  I crack a grin and send her a wink, “No worries. I have just the thing to calm your nerves.” Relief shines back, and her shoulders lose a bit of their tenseness. “Ladies, let’s show the new chick how we like to warm up,” I say to the room behind me, and a few giggles follow my request. They eagerly make their way over, as new girl watches, curiosity getting the best of her. I’ve been doing this for years since the owner, and I came to a mutual agreement. You pay up, and the Royal Bastards MC has your back. In his case, we protect his club and the girls when they need us to.

  Flicking my button free, I tug my zipper down and pull my fat cock out. I flash the ladies a bright smile as I dig the glass vial free from my pocket. The white powder inside is enough to entice these dancers to do whatever the fuck I’d like. In this case, it has them on their knees before me. Wearing the patch of prez offers me those pleasures as well, but I don’t throw my weight around from the club unless it’s necessary. “All right, get in line, and no pushing,” I mutter, carefully twisting the lid off. My cock’s heavy enough it damn near juts out toward the floor from my hips. The motherfucker already knows we’re headed to hell, so he’s pointing the way.

  Tapping the first generous line on my cock, the eager whore falls to her knees and snorts quickly, like the feaning freeloader she is. She follows it up with a slow lick across my shaft then gets up to allow the next woman to have her turn. This goes on three more times before it’s finally the new chick’s turn. It’s her first time, so if she wants this little habit to continue, she’ll have to finish sucking me off. It’s enrapturing watching several women before me, all working on my pleasure. It’s a heady feeling.

  “On your knees, dancer.” I gesture down and tip a generous amount of powder on the tip of my cock. She snorts a little into both nostrils and timidly sticks her tongue out toward my dick. A chuckle erupts from my chest and I shake my head. “Nuh-uh, you suck, and don’t stop until I tell you to.” She goes to work, and as I come, I give her the customary, “Welcome to BJ’s Dollhouse. I’m Ripper, the Royal Bastards Prez, and I’ve got plenty more soda; you hit me up to buy.”

  Get
ting my cock sucked is a small price to pay for the MC’s protection. Being Prez means I get worshipped more than the others, even the brothers that women would refer to as better looking, like Blow or Plague. I know I’m not hard on the eyes—been told that shit my entire life. I’m also not a fuckin’ idiot and am well aware a few of my brothers beat me in that department. As long as I can still easily kick their asses, well, I ain’t worried in the slightest. Pussy is easy, and it comes to me naturally. It’s one of the things I love most about women. That new female down at the club wasn’t so bad either. She’s been on my mind ever since she swirled her tongue around the head of my cock a few nights back. I wouldn’t mind having me some more of that, maybe dip between those thick thighs if she kindly offers.

  “Powerhouse!” I yell for my sergeant at arms (SAA).

  “Prez?” He comes barreling into the storeroom as I’m taking inventory. The product is getting low; it’s almost time for my VP to hit up our contact and bring in some more coke. Our ganja runner should be stopping in this week as well. The club owns a storage facility to help bring in a side income. It also fronts for the more illegal businesses we take part in.

  “Head down to BJ’s and pick up that new bitch. She gave some good head, and I’d like a reminder.”

  “Maddy?” he asks kindly. For being a big oaf, he’s sweet on the dancers. Kind of like a puppy dog around them or some shit. Anywhere else and he’s a force to be reckoned with. I don’t mind it that he’s a softy, as long as our enemies don’t take notice. Lucky for us, we’re not buried in club wars but tend to tolerate the MCs around here, and they do the same with us.

  I shrug. “Fuck if I know, brother. Never caught her name, never cared. She was new and nervous, easy on the eyes. Those types always go to their knees quickly.”

  “Yeah, her name’s Madison, but the girls been callin’ her Maddy.”

  “Got it,” I mutter, shifting around a few kilos. Not that I fucking care about her name, and it’d do him well to forget it as well. He’s already got a thing for one of the dancers to the point I think it’s an obsession.

  “Anyone else?”

  “You can see if a few of ‘em want to come back to the club and make some extra cash. I’m sure you fuckers wouldn’t mind some private dances.”

  He grins. “I’ll see who’s available and be back.”

  I wave him off, stuck in my head with the numbers. “Ride safe.”

  We have a club brick in a lockbox in here that we use strictly for new clients to test and for when we party. Partiers have the option of buying small amounts, and it’s accessible if the brothers need to replenish their stash. We aren’t a club full of tweakers, by any means. It’s one of our more lucrative businesses, and the brothers have been made well aware it’s not an everyday thing. Blow’s the one brother with a pass to do it whenever the fuck he wants, as he’s my VP. If it gets out of hand, though, I’ll put a stop to that shit quickly. Whiskey’s the only one with a key to the box, so it allows me the chance to closely monitor the brothers’ refills and sales through our notes.

  I quickly scribble down on his sheet that I took two eight balls’ worth. I transfer his latest notes onto my inventory paper and relock the box. I’ll return the key to him shortly now that I have everything I need. I’m not only a hardened biker but also a businessman, and I don’t fuck around when it comes to our product.

  “Prez?” Whiskey pokes his head in the door.

  “I’m here,” I rumble, making my way to him. I hand over the key.

  “That was fast.”

  I fold the sheet up and stick it in my wallet. It’s numbers and letters, an easy code I came up with in case I ever get searched. It’s happened in the past, so I know it’ll most likely happen again. The cops love to pull us over and pat us down whenever given a chance. “We’re low on everything, so it was easy. I’ve got deliveries already in the works. I’ve gotta get Blow to reach out to Jersey too. It’s time to take in more kilos.”

  “You want me to talk to him?”

  I shake my head. “Nah, he’ll be around later. I hit up Powerhouse to collect some girls; you know Blow can’t stay away when there’s pussy and cocaine nearby.”

  He chuckles, running a hand over his beard peppered with gray. He’s in his early fifties, and seeing him age more these last few years has me thinking on the long-term side of things. We need to keep on the path we are now. If we stick to it, we won’t have to worry about this shit when I’m older. The brothers can be comfortable without risking their necks. The last thing I wanna do is be locked up for a chunk of my life, but I’ll peddle the drugs if it means we’ll be all right down the road.

  “He better watch he doesn’t knock one of them up. Those bitches flock to his dick like it’s chocolate or some shit.”

  I cough out a laugh. I wasn’t expecting that tidbit to come from him. “Fuck, man, I didn’t need that image in my mind.”

  He chuckles, offering a shrug. He’s not sorry in the least. Fucker. “Spoke to your old man.”

  “Oh, yeah? That bastard calls you but not his son.”

  “He’s riding along the coast, sucking up that salt air.”

  “Lucky bastard. I bet my mom’s happier than shit having him all to herself. They’ll be back home soon enough. My pops can’t be gone from the garage for too long, or he loses his shit.”

  He grunts, agreeing. “We could always set up our own ride; it’s been a while.”

  “Maybe down the road, but we have too many consistent sales going on right now. I want our fedia to flourish, and our pockets to fill before we fuck off and roll out for weeks on end. Once we start, we may not return for who knows how long.”

  “That’s the beauty of it—the freedom.”

  “Couldn’t agree more. We’ll plan something soon, even if it’s only a short ride down to the gulf for some cold beer and salty air.”

  He nods, appearing less stressed already. Blow may be my VP, but Whiskey takes on a brunt of the club responsibilities as well. He’s the club treasurer but also acts as the secretary as well. He’s got his hands dipped into everything, as do I. Blow’s my best friend, but he’s got less obligation, and he likes it that way. He gets the respect of rank, but the freedom to fuck off when he wants, the lucky bastard.

  A text comes through, and I toss a pleased grin at Whiskey. “Powerhouse has a truckload of bitches. It looks like we’ll have some entertainment soon enough.”

  “Mm, guess I better eat a sandwich. You young assholes like to binge drink without eating. I can’t handle that shit anymore.”

  I chuckle and salute him as he heads for the small kitchen. We binge drink without eating cause it gets you fucked up faster. I don’t on every occasion; it depends on Powerhouse and if he’s partying or not. He keeps an eye on things most times, but some nights I have him cut loose, and I sip slowly, making sure shit doesn’t head south. I won’t put our club in jeopardy just to party, even if we are a pretty wild bunch. With everyone doing their own thing, I head for my shower. I want my cock sucked tonight, and bitches love a good smelling man.

  Chapter 2

  If we were meant to stay in one place,

  we’d have roots instead of feet.

  - Unknown

  “Have you found her yet?” my father demands, worry and anger coating his voice. He’s the calm, rational one of our family, but lately, that role has fallen to me.

  “I’m sorry, but I haven’t. This place is crawling with people. It’s almost impossible to get any leads unless you’re constantly paying people. Majority of the time, the so-called leads turn out to be lies from people taking advantage of the situation. Sadly, people will lie so easily when it comes to a missing person.”

  “I think it’s time you leave Nevada and head for Texas.”

  “Texas? You believe she’s gotten that far?” My sister isn’t exactly resourceful, but somehow, she’s been finding ways to stay under the radar. Could she have met someone who’s helping her? I suppose anythin
g’s possible at this point. I don’t bring that suggestion up to my father. I can’t stand to worry him any more than he already is.

  “It’s Madison. She always figures out a way to run. It’s nearly election season, and I need her home, cleaned up and ready to play the dutiful daughter. If the press were made aware of these excursions she goes on, I’d be finished. Our family name would be tarnished. She thinks she hates life in politics; she’d hate it, even more, being poor. I was too easy on her as a little girl. I allowed your mother to give her whatever she wanted, and now I’m being punished for it. You were the good girl, Alice, always swimming and doing well with your studies. This is my punishment for having a wonderful family, I suppose.”

  “I know, Dad, but it’s Madison. She’s different. She doesn’t think like we do. And stop taking this out on yourself; you’ve done nothing but try to protect us. She may’ve been spoiled, but you made sure we’ve always felt safe.”

  “Do not make excuses for her! She’s tearing this family apart, all in the name of a spoiled tantrum.”

  “I’m not—”

  “Look, honey, it’s not only Madison that concerns me; it’s you. I need you back here too. I don’t like having both of my daughters so far away. You’ve always been a big help with my campaign, and I don’t enjoy sending you on a wild goose chase. It’s dangerous.” My poor father…his emotions are all over the place, and he must be far more stressed out than I’d suspected. I have to find my sister.

  “I have the security detail with me. I’m fine. So far, no one has recognized me, so everything is okay. I’m okay. I’ll find Madison and come home as soon as possible. The campaign won’t suffer.”

  “That’s my girl. I know I can count on you. I’ve checked your account and added more money. Tell Richardson to head to central Texas next. I’ll have Jenkins send over the latest leads on your sister’s whereabouts. And, by all means, remain undetected.”