B*stard: Royal B*stards MC (Texas) Page 2

  “Okay, I will, Dad.” Like he needs to remind me. I’ve lived in jeans, plain shirts, ball caps, and ponytails this entire trip. I feel like a teenager all over again—always in disguise so we could travel without being harassed. My father’s been an influential man for as long as I can remember, and that comes with its ups and downs. We already had to be careful when traveling and such, being as wealthy as we are. Throw in the fact that my father is running for various offices, and the danger level shoots up several notches.

  “Love you, sweetheart. We’ll talk soon.”

  “Love you too. Bye,” I reply and meet Richardson’s knowing gaze. He’s been on this hunt with me before, but so far, this has been the longest search. My younger sister likes to pull a disappearing act at least once a year, so this is nothing new to our family. Sometimes I think she was born to the wrong parents; she would’ve had a better chance at happiness with a regular life. Our mother and father have always had one goal in sight, and that’s to rise to the top. Madison has been more of a hindrance to that goal than anything else, and it makes me empathetic toward her. I can’t blame her for it. I have days when I wish my life were different, as well. Unlike her, I haven’t acted on it before, but in a way, I think she’s brave to search for what she wants.

  “I’m sure you caught part of that,” I mutter to Richardson when the call ends.

  He nods. “Did I hear Senator Compton correctly when he said central Texas?”

  “Yes, we’re headed south. Too bad we’re in these circumstances; it’d be the perfect opportunity to make our presence known in Dallas. Dad could use the positive exposure in the state, but that won’t happen with Madison missing. She’s the top priority.”

  “Why do you continue to search for her? This is like the fourth time since I’ve been working for your father. It’s not your responsibility.”

  “She’s my sister,” I respond adamantly. “That’s reason enough, and she is partly my responsibility. It’s what sisters do.”

  “You’re good to your family. I just hate to see them take advantage of that.”

  I shrug. “I’m used to it.”

  “I know, Alice. That makes it so much worse. You’re a good woman; you don’t deserve the headache. You should be next to your father right now. Someday you’ll be the one campaigning in his place. You have so many ideas on how to help our state, and no one gives you the respect you deserve. You’re an asset, not a private bounty hunter.”

  “Someday, Richardson, maybe. Until then, I have my sister to worry about. Last time, she was shacked up with that Russian drug dealer. There’s no telling where she is now. She could be dead right now…that’s what scares me the most. I just need to find her, see that she’s all right, then I can worry about myself.”

  “Yes, ma’am; we’ll find her.” He offers me a reassuring smile. His chestnut hair is all over the place from dragging his hands through it while he drives us around.

  “Thanks, Richardson,” I murmur, and he speaks into his wrist, relaying the new direction to the set of guys in the car behind us. While he’s quietly conversing with them, Jenkins sends me a text with the name and zip code of the new town. I change the car’s GPS for Richardson and hit ‘go’ on the screen. It immediately sprouts off the next turn in a British accent and tells us our arrival will be at five a.m. My father had his car guy program it like that, especially for me because her slang makes me laugh.

  Richardson tells his men the new location, and I close my eyes. Leaning my seat back, I allow my mind to wander. I need rest. Too much stress and worrying always wear me out. He turns on a classical piece I enjoy and keeps the volume low enough not to disturb me. The comfort from the Cadillac’s leather seats, the dark windows, and the sweet melody from the piano lull me to sleep.

  “We’re here, Alice.” I’m shaken awake. That was a long, boring ride, and I must’ve dozed off again.

  “Here?” I mumble, half awake. “I thought you said six more hours.”

  I’m met with Richardson’s amused grin. “Yes, ma’am. We’re in the middle of Texas. To be more precise, we’re in the city of Pflugerville. We passed a cool looking water park, but you were sleeping pretty hard, so I didn’t want to wake you yet.”

  “Thanks, errm, is this our hotel?” I drag my eyes around the lot, sleepily taking in my surroundings.

  He nods. “Yes, and we’re all checked in.”

  “Stopping last night was a good idea; I feel like I just had a power nap. You must be sick of driving, though, and sore from sitting.”

  He shrugs. “I’m at your disposal. It’s my job to be here for you, so don’t hesitate if you need me to pick up something for you.”

  I nod. I’ve heard it before from my father. These three guys he’s dubbed as my security team have bent over backward to make sure I have whatever I need, and I appreciate them for it. “You guys take the evening to eat, sleep, and recoup. That was a long drive.”

  “I’m fine from the short nap last night.” We stopped, so he and the other driver could get a bit of sleep. They push themselves too much, in my opinion.

  “Richardson…I don’t want to wear you out. You may be a highly trained bodyguard, but even the strongest guys need rest and substance.”

  “But—”

  I cut him off. “Don’t worry about me. I promise I’ll stay in the hotel, and if I order anything, I’ll have it sent to your room first. I know the drill.”

  “Not just in the hotel, in your room.” He grows serious.

  I may not be as sneaky as my sister, but my team has learned to watch my wording. By ‘in the hotel,’ I mean that I’ll go anywhere on the property. They learned it the hard way, and so did I when they called my father worried for their jobs and my safety. “I was thinking of taking a swim.”

  His eyes bug. “Ma’am, then we definitely need to be present.”

  “I know how to swim…well, I might add.”

  “We know, Alice; we’ve seen the trophies at your father’s estate. Even with your experience, you never know when someone may’ve picked up on our trail or who might recognize you.”

  “You think they’d drown me?” I ask, a bit outraged at the horror. I’m not naïve. I know not everyone cares for my father, but I’ve never wronged anyone. At least, not enough for them to attempt to viciously drown me.

  “Amongst kidnapping, we have to take precaution. This is nothing new.”

  “I know, but this is the first I’m hearing of this! Who wants to drown me?”

  “There’ve…”

  “Tell me.”

  “There’ve been a few threats toward your family, all aimed at your father running for senator again.”

  “Toward me?”

  He nods tightly, a fierce expression plastered across his normally calm features. “I was supposed to keep this information from you, but it may be the key to saving your life. Please don’t tell Senator Compton, or you may have a new security detail flying out to take our place stat.”

  “I’ll keep this to myself; you have my word.” Dad used to have a female with me at all times, but that stopped when I got older and demanded my privacy. I’m an adult, and he has no reason not to trust me. I’m not Madison. He selected these three guys, in particular. They have my best interest in mind, and I won’t jeopardize it, no matter how good a swim sounds to me right now.

  I give in to the call of the water and ask, “If one of you doesn’t mind, I’d like to take a swim at some point.”

  “Of course,” he immediately agrees. “I will speak to the hotel manager and see if I can get us in at ten-thirty. The pool closes at ten, so you’ll have it to yourself.”

  “Thank you.” I offer a smile, though it wouldn’t be so bad if other people were around. Especially children, I love seeing their excitement when it comes to swimming and splashing around. “I’ll take my laptop inside with me and see what I can find out about this place while you all rest.”

  “Sounds like a plan. If you want food, please have one of
us to order it for you. The extra precaution will make me feel better.”

  “Right.” I offer a tight smile because, apparently, even ordering food on the telephone with a fake name is dangerous. Why didn’t my father feel the need to bring this up if it’s so serious? This pisses me off like no other, but I respect my father, so he must have his reasons.

  My detail walks me to my room, checking the inside once more before leaving me alone with my laptop and suitcase. They didn’t offer up a keycard or anything, and it has me feeling more like a prisoner than the senator’s daughter. I call my sister’s number like I do every day at this time, but Madison doesn’t answer. She never answers, and as far as I know, she doesn’t have a phone connected to the number, or else my dad would track her. I still call, just in case, and at the same time, so she can rely on me. She has access to her voicemail, so I hope she hears my messages and, at some point, calls me back.

  With a disappointed sigh, I decide on a long, hot soak in the tub before I do some detective work. It should keep me busy enough, along with a call to my mom. The poor woman is kept out of the loop without my updates. It’s cruel of my father, but he swears it’s for my mother’s own good. He doesn’t want to worry her and stress her out when a lead turns to nothing. I get it; however, I don’t agree with him, so I call her with details, and she pretends to be clueless around my father. She loves him enough to act like she’s going along with his wishes, but she’s always kept up to speed. Madison and I get our rebellious streak from her, and stubborn women like us always find a way to get what we want.

  Chapter 3

  Hell is empty and all the

  devils are here.

  - William Shakespeare

  “Everything cherry at BJ’s?” I ask as Powerhouse plants his ass next to me. I’m drinking a beer out back behind the club, chilling in the silence. I’ve got a small fire going in the pit before us—perfect on a chilly night like tonight. We’ve got some stumps and lawn chairs strewn about for the brothers, and whoever else may be around. Some nights we’ll come out here to shoot the shit around a fire. It’s relaxing, especially if you’re hungover.

  “Yeah, all good, Prez.”

  The owner pays us to help out with any issues he may have. Powerhouse throws his bulk around once a week to put a little fear into the customers messing with the strippers. He’d be there watching them dance regardless, so he may as well make some cash while doing it. Rarely do we all need to be there busting heads, but occasionally, we all show up to make our presence known. The owner doesn’t mind if we invite the strippers back to the MC for a private performance, either. It gives the females a chance to make some extra fedia, and in return, they stay working for his wrinkly perverted ass longer.

  “You were there a lot this week,” I mention. All the brothers noticed—not just me. I don’t want him to grow too attached to the strippers. He’s fixated on watching them whenever he can. “You have a favorite or something?”

  “There were a few new guys; some suits that I was keeping an eye on. They were too clean-cut to be in there. I wasn’t sure if they were gonna fuck up one of the dancers.”

  “Ah. You find out who the fuck they are? Were they selling anything or peddling in flesh?”

  He shakes his head. “They kept to themselves, didn’t bother anyone. Maybe, since it’s not far from the airport, they were looking for easy pussy.”

  I rub my face, not thinking too hard on it. “Should’ve had the girls grab their wallets. Could’ve gotten paid and had their names.”

  A devilish grin pulls at his lips. “I didn’t feel like burying the bodies, or I would’ve.”

  A chuckle leaves me as I shake my head. He’s a crazy fucker, and I don’t doubt it for a minute that he’s telling the truth. “Speaking of getting paid, that sale I was waiting on came through. Plague and Whiskey went out to meet our supplier and brought in some more powder. On the way home, they met with our big buyer and was able to get rid of a chunk they had on hand.”

  He whistles through his teeth, before commenting. “A kilo and a half, right? Same as last time? A twenty-one-k payday?”

  “We cut him a deal and came home with eighteen profit.”

  “Nice.”

  “As always, Whiskey and Plague will take a higher cut since they risked their necks on pickup and drop off, but we’ll still see some cheddar.”

  “That’s what’s up,” he nods, cracking his knuckles and rolling his shoulders.

  “We’ve got two weeks until another drop comes through, but I’ll hit you up to see if you want in. Plague wants the cash, but he knows the rules—we offer the option to another brother first since he had last dibs. We’ll discuss it in church next week. Make sure you hit up the strippers with baggies—a few of them been texting me about wanting to buy. I told them you’d come around when we got more in.”

  “I can do that, but I’ll pass on the next exchange if someone else wants it. I’ve got a fight booked, so I have extra cash coming in.”

  “Sweet! Out at Hell Hole?”

  He nods. The Hell Hole is an old biker bar out in bum fuck Egypt. It was built to surround an outside patio, but when the place started going to shit, they turned it into an outdoor fighting ring. It’s reserved for MCs only and a decent place to make some money through personal bets. The owner’s a lazy fuck and rarely opens anymore unless he has a fight in the works. It’s a neutral ground where we all wear our colors and don’t start shit with anybody unless we’re willing to take it to the ring. The availability to bash someone’s face in tends to keep the peace. Shit, I’ve been there when clubs have gone head to head and beat the shit out of each other one after the other. It makes for some good entertainment and contacts.

  “You know who you’re fighting?”

  “Skull Cracker from Lost Saints.”

  My brows shoot up. “Thought you were cool with him.”

  “I am, but he threw out my name, and I responded.”

  “So, you’ll be concentrating on training more?” That’s another thing Powerhouse does all the time; the dude’s way into fitness. We have a shelf full of shaker cups in his honor. The guy is always chugging something with protein in it.

  He nods. “That a problem?”

  “Not at all. I’m looking forward to watching you beat some ass.”

  He chuckles. “That you can count on.”

  “You hookup with anybody last week?” I ask, referencing the night he went and brought a truckload of strippers back for private entertainment.

  He shrugs. “I got an eye on one of ‘em. Not the one who was on your lap, though.”

  I shoot him a cocky smile. “Maddy’s good at sucking my cock.”

  “I figured. She’s been here every night since then,” he points out, brow raised.

  We hear moans coming from Blow’s room. He’s got his window open but blinds down. It sounds like he’s going to town, too, and not holding back on her.

  “Not only for me, man; she’s been cozying up to Blow.” I nod toward the open window and clear sounds of fucking. “I’m guessing they think I’m blind to her making heart eyes his way and shit. Not like he’s being too careful about it; this shit happens a couple times a day. He may have a pretty face that bitches love, but my cock’s still bigger.”

  He releases a hefty laugh and nods. “True that.” We’d had a dick measuring contest one night when the shit-talking got out of hand. It’s wasn’t only a bunch of dudes and dicks, either. There were chicks present doing the measuring. Just another crazy night at the MC. Anyhow, it’s been noted that I’m well-endowed—more so than any other motherfucker here. Hence my name, Ripper. It’s not for removing heads; it’s for tearing up pussy—one of my favorite things to do.

  I shrug. “Wouldn’t be surprised if she’s making rounds. Bitches love an outlaw in their bed. Something about the danger of us keeps ‘em coming back for more. I rarely catch their names anymore. As far as I’m concerned, they’re around here to get my dick wet…nothing more
.”

  “You’re a bastard, brother.”

  I flash a grin and agree, “Through and through. No use in denying it. Being tame never got me anywhere, so fuck that boring shit.”

  “You’re real. I’ve always respected that. It’s one of the reasons why I wanted to be in a club with you leading.”

  “Appreciate that, man.” I lean over so we can bump knuckles.

  “I’m gonna head out.” He stands. The fucker’s massive, so I have to tilt my head to stare at his face.

  My brow raises, curious as to where he’s off to on a boring-ass Tuesday night. “Got plans, brother?”

  “I’m going to stop by BJ’s.”

  “Damn, someone’s pussy got you hooked.” I smirk. Can’t help it. We like to give each other shit on occasion.

  His lips tilt into a grin. “Not yet, but hopefully, one day.”

  “All right, man, ride safe.”

  “Thanks, brother,” he grumbles and heads around the building.

  More moans come from Blow’s window, and I stand with a huff. I’m not about to sit around here and listen to my brother fucking. They sound like a bunch of dying cats and shit with the wailing getting out of hand. With that thought, I head to the bar. A short glass of whiskey will have me sleeping peacefully.

  Powerhouse shows up in my office days later, Blow at his side. It’s right around the time I usually start my inventory. The brothers know I’m always here to keep up with business shit on Sundays. “We have a problem,” he confesses, not appearing happy to admit it. My mind shoots to our warehouses and storage facilities. Last I checked, they were empty, but they could’ve been raided, I suppose. We like to have them empty to keep nosey fucks our of our business, and it gives us the freedom to pretend like they’re full. In return, we filter in drug money to make it appear like storage payments and legit cash flow.

  “That so?” I nearly growl. I don’t like motherfucking problems, especially when it’s bad enough it takes two of them to tell me about it. “I swear to Christ, Plague better not’ve gotten popped last night. Is that it? Is he locked up? Or is it one of the storage buildings? We get raided?”