Daydream (Oath Keepers MC) Read online

  “Yeah, out at Shorty’s.”

  “Bet, I’ll head over with you. Friday or Saturday?”

  “Both.”

  He nods. “You should get some pussy, take your mind off her.” He gestures in Bethany’s direction. While that would’ve sounded good before, it does nothing for me now. The only pussy I want riding my dick belongs to that hotheaded chick that just laid one hell of a kiss on my mouth.

  “She smells another bitch on you, you may not wake up in the morning.” Viking chuckles, and I grin. It’s probably true though. Good thing I won’t have to worry about that.

  “Fucked up.” I shake my head.

  “How ‘bout I tell Odin to babysit. Me and Princess could ride up, you could show B?”

  “Not sure she’d like that sort of thing.”

  Chaos sighs. “Bullshit. Chicks are all over your cock once they see you play.”

  He has a point; it could win her over a little. I can keep fucking with her here and there and then really hook her. This time when she falls for me, I plan to make sure she never goes anywhere.

  “Why you single, Chaos?”

  He shrugs. “I had a woman when I first started playing football. She gave me my daughter then split. That was enough for me.”

  That’s right. His daughter visits on her college breaks sometimes. “You haven’t been on a run to Alabama in a whole minute. Your kid okay?” That’s also how he met our moonshine contact. The stuff here at the club is the real deal—homemade and everything.

  “She moved up north with her boyfriend.”

  “No shit?”

  He nods. “He went to play for the Patriots.”

  “Holy fuck, brother; that’s awesome.”

  “As long as she finishes her degree, I won’t kill him,” he admits, and we all chuckle. Makes me glad I have a son. Not sure I could handle having a daughter.

  I get home after Bethany does, and there’s dinner already made and waiting for me. I’d never admit it to my brothers, but I love every bit of having her here. I don’t know why I want to torment her so badly. My guess is, I’m still hurt. I hate that bullshit. Makes me feel weak, like a chick worried about feelings and shit.

  It’s true, though. Finding out I had a kid and knew nothing about it, fucked me up inside. I was already screwed up, but this is different. It makes me think that she believes I’m not good enough to be Maverick’s father.

  However, I will be a good dad to him; I’ll make sure of it. I may not be a good person or even a decent man, but I won’t let myself fail at being his father. I had enough of that growing up; I won’t torment my own kid with that kind of life.

  Trekking down the hall, I peek in and check on Mav. He’s knocked out, with his feet up on his pillows. Kid sleeps like a wild animal in every direction besides the normal one. It’s all good; his mom and I both march to the beat of our own drum, too. Fuck the standards.

  Next, I check on Bethany. Cracking her door open a little more, I peek in. Her sleepy eyes meet mine, a tired smile on her lips.

  “Thanks for dinner.”

  “Of course.” She yawns, snuggling into her covers more.

  “I have a gig this weekend. I’d like you there.”

  “Okay.”

  “Viking and Princess are coming.”

  “Oh cool.”

  “Night,” I grumble.

  “Good night.” She sighs, her eyes closing. I can’t help but pause and stare for a few seconds before leaving her doorway.

  Peeling my clothes off, I leave them on my bedroom floor in my wake. I lie flat on my own bed; it’s a California King since I’m six feet four. Regular beds don’t work too well for me.

  My eyes close and I see Bethany’s smirk as she punches Honey. I didn’t say it outright, but it was hot as fuck. If she had really been claiming me, I’d have her in my bed right now, rewarding her with my face between those thighs.

  When she kissed me, I had to touch them. Every time she puts on a pair of shorts, I want to run my hands up the backs and give them a good smack, leaving a pink handprint behind. Fuck, the things I’d do to her body.

  Groaning, my hand finds my semihard cock and I give a few rough pumps. It hardens quickly, precum spilling from the top as I pretend it’s her doing it.

  “Ummm…Night?” Her voice breaks my thoughts, and my eyes pop open, landing on her flushed cheeks.

  “Yeah?” It’s gruff, but fuck, five more minutes and I would’ve been spilling all over myself.

  “Can I lay with you?” It’s so soft and innocent, I could break down a door with how hard it makes my dick.

  “Yeah, come ‘ere dollface,” I reply and let her scoot under the covers, coming to lie on my chest.

  It’s going to be one hell of a long night for me. I should just fuck her right here, right now. But I won’t. I’m going to let her fall for me before I claim her and finally make her mine.

  Live your life by a compass

  not a clock.

  -Stephan Covey

  Watching him play the other night at the bar was insane. I had no idea Nightmare was that talented. Makes me wonder why he ever became a biker in the first place and not a professional drummer. He’s at that level, and it’s not often you come across someone who is.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, pausing in the doorway to the bathroom. He’s got a few drops of oil he’s rubbing between his palms.

  “I’m putting beard oil in my beard.” His gaze meets mine while staring into the mirror above the sink. His eyebrow rises like I’m off my rocker.

  “Beard oil?”

  “Yeah, you know, to make it softer?” His gaze flicks back to the dark hair as he runs his hands over it.

  “Hmm,” I reply and watch as he smooths it over the long scruff.

  Knowing he uses products like that, I have to admit is pretty damn stimulating. Men like him, you think are naturally good-looking, but he works to take care of himself, and that is so attractive in a man.

  I caught him in the garage the other morning lifting weights shirtless, and I swear the guy gave me hot flashes. He busted me gawking at him them, too, but I didn’t care. Any woman in their right mind would watch muscles like his flex with each lift.

  A biker who wears beard oil, lifts weights, plays the drums, and can kiss like the devil himself. Why is it I’m protesting living with him again? Oh right, because he packed my shit up and moved us here without having a real choice in the matter. Doing things like that makes me stabby, no matter how fuckable he may appear.

  And let’s not mention that he also holds me at night when the dreams haunt me full force. The asshole’s not making my life any easier being sweet like that.

  “You coming by the club later?” He stands in front of me in the living room on his way out.

  “I wasn’t planning on it, why?”

  “Just checking.”

  “I need to find a job.”

  He shrugs. “Not really, but I’m done arguing with you over it.”

  There’s no way in hell I’m letting him pay for my stuff. I won’t depend on him any more than he’s already caused me too.

  “It’s not an argument if I want to work.”

  “Whatever. You could come to the club.”

  “And do what? Watch one of the whores rub all over you again? That’s not my idea of fun.”

  “She didn’t rub on me; she asked if I wanted my cock sucked. I turned her down and then you punched her. Pretty sure the message was clear, and that was a week ago. You’re still thinkin’ about it?”

  “Of course. Women don’t let that sort of thing drop.”

  “You’re being a bitch right now, you know that?”

  He did not just say that shit to my face. “You better leave before I take a knife to that pretty bike you have parked out front.”

  He huffs, stuffing his wallet in his pocket.

  “And Nightmare?”

  “Yeah, B?”

  “Next time you call me a bitch or say I’m acting li
ke one?”

  He remains stoic, glaring at me.

  “You won’t be the only one known as Nightmare,” I finish and walk toward my bedroom. I’m getting dressed and finding a fucking job if it’s the last thing I do today.

  Why would he want to know if I’m coming to the club anyhow? It doesn’t matter; Princess said she’d watch Mav while I go job hunting, so that’s what the plan for the day is.

  So moody and for no damn reason, I think as I take my spot at church. Everyone else is already here; I’m running late thanks to Bethany being pissed over old shit.

  “Everyone straight?” Viking peers at each of us, waiting for somebody to speak up.

  Chaos grumbles, drawing our attention. “Spoke to Cain, he said the charter over there is having a shit time with another club again.”

  “Iron Fists are back?”

  The name rings a bell. Pretty sure that was the club we went on a run to Cali for and torched. We burnt every dirty fucker alive inside too. The club shouldn’t be having any issues with the Fists; they should all be dead.

  Chaos shrugs. “I don’t know if they’re back, but they have video of two wearing their colors vandalizing a building next to the compound. They can’t pin down a location on them.”

  “Fuck,” Viking mutters. “Ares hasn’t called yet, so we’ll leave it for now. But…keep your eyes open for them. We killed a lot of those fuckers the last time we chased them down. Doesn’t mean we got ‘em all, though, and they could be coming for retaliation.”

  “It’s been what, three years?” Sinner blurts.

  “Yeah; however, if you think about it in terms of revenge, it’s plenty of time for us to be forgetting about them. It’s smart. We’re not lookin’ for them, and they can snuff us out before we get our feet on the ground.”

  “True. So we just sit back and wait? Not our usual style, brother.” I give my two cents.

  “I know. I don’t like it either, but if we keep watch and wait on ‘em, we’ll catch them. Hopefully for good this time. I’m sick of these stupid fucks. If we don’t have any other business, I’m going to head over to the other club. See if we can get a church session with the other brothers and come up with a more concrete plan. I’m sure Ares is already plotting.”

  “I’ll head over with you.”

  It’s probably not a good idea to be out riding alone if there’s someone on the hunt for us. The other brothers agree with me and decide to come along as well, strength in numbers and all. Viking gives Ares a call to see if we can do church with them now versus waiting.

  “Appreciate you sitting down with us and having us at your table,” Viking grumbles once Ares calls attention to everyone piled into their small room they use for church. It’s smaller than ours, but since we wanted to talk, we came to them.

  “You’re welcome here anytime, brother,” Ares replies and glances at each of us. I’m sitting across from Twist, crazy blond fucker covered in more tattoos than myself. Most of the brothers stand, lining the room, as only ten of us can fit around the table. “Now, what’s going on?”

  “Chaos brought it up that the Iron Fists may have returned.”

  Collective growls and murmurs scatter amongst the members.

  “You heard right. Wasn’t gonna drag your members into it unless shit got heavy.”

  “I’m thinking the bastards may be jonesin’ for some retaliation with my crew. Figured it best we hit you up.”

  Cain sits forward. “You’re probably right. We need to fuck ‘em up before they hurt anyone like the last time they came through.” He glances at Ares as several of the brothers agree with an ‘aye.’

  My gaze hits Twist briefly, stopping on the scar running along the top of his forehead. He got some of the blow back from the Fists the last time they were in town. Brother had to be transported to the hospital after shrapnel made him flip his bike. That feels like a lifetime ago though.

  “We’re not here to overstep, Ares. Let us know your plan, and we’ve got your back.” Viking ignores Cain’s suggestion, concentrating on the other Prez.

  None of us have any issues with Cain, especially myself as his kid plays with mine. Cain and his ol’ lady are good people, but this is a discussion held by the Presidents to then be voted on by all of us.

  “Your friendship is valuable to this club, we won’t forget that or how you’ve helped in the past,” the Prez says to the other, and they clasp hands.

  Once enemies, they’re now brothers, friends, and each other’s full supporter. At one point, I as well as most of the club thought we’d catch hell because we were sure Viking was going to end up killing Ares. They surprised us all by bonding over Princess. There’s so much history between us all; we’ve grown to respect each other a great deal.

  “Now,” Ares clears his throat, “we’ve discussed this. We’re watching the feeds around the compound and have taken some funds to send the families on vacation, minus a few of us. Avery will stay here along with London to help keep the clubhouse running. London’s mom and brother have taken her and Cain’s kids out of town, so they’re safe.”

  Of course, those two would be left behind. The Prez’s ol’ lady along with Cain’s. Cain won’t let London out of his sight from what I hear, along with those two women being kamikazes. They’re almost as bad as Princess and Bethany. The four of them together could seriously cause a shit storm if they wanted to.

  “With them gone, we’re tryin’ to figure out where these jackoffs are stayin’. Once we find out, we’re blowing them sky high. Fuck the dumb shit; I’m done with them existin’.”

  “That sounds all good, except, what if this isn’t all of them?” Blaze grumbles, sitting next to Viking. “We’ve all heard how this club has chapters in Texas and Cali and that some of the compounds can’t be found.”

  “We torched their south Texas or Mexican border club years back,” 2 Piece answers. Not only is he a club officer; he’s Ares’ property. Yes, you heard that correctly. Ares has an ol’ lady and an ol’ man. “Then the Nomads torched the Cali club,” he finishes, and I nod, confirming his explanation. 2 Piece actually rode with us on that hit. He’s cool in my book, true to his position and loyal to the club.

  Viking sips some whiskey from his flask, his eyes shooting to Spider. “Spidey, can you do some tech shit and find out if these fuckers have been popping up anywhere else?” He rode back in last night and couldn’t have timed it any better.

  “Yeah, I can, uh, run the club’s video against a facial recognition program I have that’s linked into the justice monitoring system via stateside.”

  “Whatever the fuck you just said, do it.” Viking nods, and a few of us chuckle. We have no idea what the hell Spider is talking about half the time, but it sounds good. He’s one smart fucker, probably bordering on genius. No idea what someone with his head is doing riding with a bunch of outlaws.

  Pulling a smoke free, Ares watches as I light it up, swallowing and staring longingly. We’ve all heard the stories how Avery has his nuts in a vice when it comes to him smoking.

  “Pass me a smoke, lad.” Scot holds his hand out, and I dig my pack back out, handing it over and gesturing for him to pass it around. None of these idiots thought to bring their own, just their drinks. Everybody started staring at me like a fucking kicked puppy when I flicked open my zippo. May as well share, so they stop their silent whining.

  Once everyone’s had some nicotine hit their system, the talk continues, and a plan formulates. My girl and kid will be fine, as no one knows about them. Princess lives with Viking and Odin, so she’ll be straight as well. Bronx will be posted up at the bar with Scot’s ol’ lady to offer her some protection in case the Fists stop through at the bar. I’ll keep Bethany and Maverick safe, and if shit hits the fan, I can move them to my room in the club for the time being.

  Extending my legs, I roll my ankle around as much as I can in my heavy riding boots. My leg is achy today. Not sure why, but I may need to adjust the leg weights or something. I want it
strong but not reinjured. Bad enough it’ll never look the same, but it hurts a lot of the time, too. Nothing a decent double shot of Jack can’t fix, though.

  Church comes to an end, and we head back to our clubhouse after sharing a drink with the original Oath Keepers.

  I hope to arrive to my death,

  late, in love, and a little drunk.

  -Atticus

  After job hunting, I decide to say screw it and stop by the compound. Nightmare obviously wanted me here for some reason. I don’t know why, but whatever, guess we’ll find out.

  Heading into the clubhouse, I see him instantly. How can I not? Anytime he’s in the vicinity, I’m immediately drawn to him. He calls to me on a deeper level, as if his soul is an old friend of mine.

  Honey has her hand wrapped around his bicep, and it’s all I can take. Princess was right about it sparking jealousy inside me. I’m not a jealous person either, but Nightmare is my hard limit. No one needs to touch him like she’s doing.

  Stopping, I decide it’s best to just leave, rather than hit her again. I don’t know if he enjoys her attention and pretends otherwise, but fuck that. I don’t have time for bullshit, especially when I already have enough grief from him.

  I’m a grown-ass woman, and while I like to tangle, I won’t put up with club crap. I’m not an ol’ lady; I don’t have dibs on him, even if it feels as if I should. In reality, he’s not mine. He never was, and he probably never will be.

  I barely poked my head in, and, thankfully, no one noticed me. I make my way back to the parking lot full of bikes and my car. It stands out like a neon sign amongst the beautifully painted motorcycles. Especially Nightmare’s. I’ve always loved the glossy black finish. It’s humongous up close, definitely a bike fit for a big man. The best word to describe Night would be imposing, and his bike, no doubt, fits that description as well.

  My fingertips trail over his seat, the same place I sat on when he took me with him to see him play at Shorty’s. God, I loved watching him beat on those drums. It was practically sinful, his hair going in every direction, his biceps flexing as sweat beaded on his forehead. Yum.