Cherry: Oath Keepers MC Read online

  With a swallow, I step back, coming uneasily close to Torch. I can’t find it in myself to care now though, I’m hurt inside. I’m instantly thinking it must be Mercy that’s making him turn me down. I wish he’d let me make him forget about her for good.

  “What’d you offer him, Cher?” Blaze cuts in, “Maybe I’ll take you up on that offer if he’s too stubborn to give in.”

  Blaze is charming and even sweet sometimes, but I’ve gotten used to warming Odin’s cock. Honey and the last hang around have been servicing the other men. With a false smile and an aching heart, I admit, “I was offering to take his mind off...things.” My stomach clenches, hoping that blaze won’t ask me to distract him as well.

  “Always thinking about our VP’s comfort.” He nods and I keep the smile plastered. “How about you come help my thoughts clear instead? I could use some female company after being around these hoodlums today.” I want to tell him no, but in reality, I have no reason not to spend some time with him as he requests.

  Torch rolls his eyes, tossing back the remainder of his liquor. My gaze shifts to Odin, not realizing it and damn if it doesn’t seem like I’m seeking his permission. I open my mouth to give in...it is why I’m here, after all, and I can catch serious shit if I deny the brothers without a claim patch on my back.

  Odin interrupts as I start to speak, cutting me off.

  “Actually Blaze, I need you to run Princess to the store. I’m going over to see if my brothers came home yet and she needs to get out of that damn room. She’s been cooped up and she looks like a shell of herself. Take her to the hair place or whatever shit she normally does. I need her to start looking like my brother’s ol’ lady again and less like a ruined woman.”

  “I can do that, but she’s been through some shit. She’s not gonna look back to normal after a hair appointment.”

  “Hell, we all know that. But when Vike returns, I want it to hit him right away that he’s a stupid motherfucker for ever hurting a woman like my sister-in-law.”

  “You gonna fill us in on what’s going down between them? Besides what we already walked into and saw for ourselves?” he asks.

  “Nah.” Odin shakes his head, the long, tight blond braid barely swaying with the move. “That shit’s between them and if P wants y’all to know her business, she’ll put it out there. No one needs to be bothering her about it or bringing it up. She’ll talk when she’s ready.”

  He’s so loyal to his family; it’s a tribute I admire from him a great deal. I can only imagine how he’ll be when he finds his own woman to claim, but that’s something I don’t want to think about. My heart would really break if that happened, not that he’d ever know it or even care, for that matter.

  Odin’s ocean blue irises fall back to mine, his hand lightly squeezes me one last time before he drops it away. “And Cherry, I need for you to clean up her space while P’s gone. Don’t mess with her belongings, but make sure she has clean towels and whatever else she may need just in case she’s here longer. Princess may not be herself right now, but when she’s feeling better, she’ll appreciate the thought.”

  I nod, not minding in the least. I like Princess. She’s never been ugly toward me about anything.

  “And I want chocolate cake for dinner tonight,” he adds, knowing I’ll beg Princess for the recipe to make it for him. I always do whatever he asks of me, wanting him to be happy and content.

  “I can probably make that happen.”

  His gaze shines, lowering to take in my body before he murmurs, “You better. I’d hate to have to punish you.”

  My thighs clench at his meaning. I fucking love when he wants to punish me. It usually entails tying me up somewhere and spanking me until I come so hard my eyes cross or else having me wear the ball gag while he drives into me from behind.

  He smacks my ass and I take the hint. “I’ll see you guys later. This bossy VP of yours wants cake baked. I guess he thinks it’s his birthday or something.”

  The three of them chuckle in response, knowing I’m only giving him shit and that I really don’t mind. It’s the opposite, in fact; I enjoy taking care of Odin however he’ll allow it.

  Heading straight for the kitchen, I can’t stop thinking about what may happen if Mercy does show up here. The worst part of it all is that I can’t say anything about it. Not to Odin or the guys or even take it upon myself to tell her to get lost. When it all boils down to it, I’m nothing but a club whore and who I want here at the clubhouse doesn’t really matter. To be heard in this club when you’re a female, you must be an ol’ lady and we all know whores don’t ever become ol’ ladies.

  Brushing the thoughts aside, I open the first cabinet to check for baking supplies. One thing I can do is bake a kick ass cake. Too bad cake never got anyone a diamond.

  Honey traipses into the kitchen as I finish smoothing the last of the whipped chocolate frosting. “God, it smells amazing in here,” she groans, inhaling dramatically.

  “It’s Princess’s recipe, my favorite.”

  “She shared it with you?” Her haughty question is disbelieving.

  I nod, placing the cover over the fluffy, three-layer Dutch chocolate cake. “Yeah, she always lets me use her recipes,” I say with a shrug.

  Honey snorts. “Since when did Princess start being nice to you? I thought she was bitchy to the both of us. Everyone is beneath the ice queen.”

  Keeping quiet, I busy myself, not wanting to admit that the woman’s never really been mean or bitchy to me. I’ve stayed away from her ol’ man and treated her with respect. Maybe if Honey had done the same and also didn’t try to screw with Nightmare then Princess would’ve been the same way with her too. Instead, Honey kept trying to cause problems when Nightmare has a kid with Princess’s best friend, Bethany. It’s Honey’s own fault, not that I have room to talk about staying away from the members.

  I guess it makes me a bit of a hypocrite, too, since I did start hooking up with Odin when he was still technically with Mercy. It’s not that I had much of a choice back then though. If a club member tells you to jump, you freaking get off your ass and jump as high as you can to please them. Odin is the MC club’s President’s little brother; I wasn’t about to piss him off by denying him, not that I wanted to tell him no anyhow.

  “I just stay out of their way,” I eventually mutter, not liking when she gets bitchy toward the ol’ ladies.

  “Yeah, well, I guess I’ve seen you helping a lot when the club’s having a barbecue or whatever. I could see why she’d be nicer to you. I refuse to kiss her ass though, so there goes my chance, I guess. Darn.” Honey snorts and my eyes roll. That right there is exactly why she’s treated differently; she’s the one with the bad attitude all the time toward anyone with a vagina.

  “Speaking of helping, I need to go tidy up Odin’s room.”

  She pulls a bag of chips from the cabinet, saying, “Why do you bother? He’s just going to fuck some random snatch in that clean bed you’d be making. Let whatever skank that crawls in there do his laundry.” She digs a handful of chips out and shoves a few in her mouth, chomping away.

  “You may have other options in life, Honey, but this is what I have. I’m just trying to make the best of it.” I leave right after, not wanting to hear whatever hateful comment she has for me next. Nor do I want to share with her that while she’s jumping between brothers, I’m usually that ‘skank’ warming Odin’s sheets. I wash his bedding each week because I want to sleep on clean sheets, but that’s none of her damn business.

  Viking wasn’t at his and Princess’s house they share near the clubhouse so the only place we thought to find him may be at the other club. If he’s there then he’s got Ares for support which could be exactly what he needs. The Butcher is the closest to a brother that Princess has, besides her own flesh and blood, Snake, and he will no doubt have her back whether Viking and he are good friends or not. The old Prez treated the Butcher like a son, keeping his biological kids as far away from club life as poss
ible. Not that it did any good; both his son and daughter eventually got ties to the Oath Keepers.

  We pause at the gate to the original Oath Keepers MC compound. The waiting prospect jumps up, ready to let us in. With a quick wave from us, the shaggy-haired, young Indian-looking dude shoves the tall chain-link gate to the side. He nods as we pull our bikes through, closing it behind us. Both clubs, theirs and ours, were attacked a few years back. It was ugly and since then, both compounds have upgraded all their security features hoping to put it off if it ever happens again. Now, as a safety precaution, whoever’s outside working the gate can’t open it himself. Located inside the clubhouse is an alert when someone approaches and it’s up to whoever’s monitoring the security feed to unlock the gate and permit entry.

  Torch turns to me as we pull to a stop, parking our bikes. With a flick of my wrist, the engine quiets. I kick the stand down, getting to my feet, waiting for whatever he has to say.

  “You sure you want to go in?” He gestures to the building in front of us. Torch knows how I feel about being around Spin when it’s not essential. I really can’t blame Spin though. I was always breaking his younger sister’s heart when she was a teenager, so I can’t necessarily expect to be his favorite person even if time has passed since then.

  “I don’t have much of a choice,” I admit. I don’t want to see Mercy or Spin, but what else can I do? “If Viking’s not here, then we need to find out if he’s stopped by or anything.”

  “Agreed. You make any progress with Princess?” he asks as we head for the door marked FUCK OFF NON-MEMBERS. It’s big and bold, letting visitors know to use the public entry. They have a little greeting area or some shit for random people showing up.

  “P’s willing to speak to my brother without a weapon in her hands, so it’s a start. More than what I was expecting, to be honest.”

  He snorts, shaking his head as we stride inside. The Butcher, his ol’ lady, and ol’ man are sitting in a weathered booth tucked into the corner of their bar. Various other members laugh and carry on loudly about who knows what, dipping their heads in greeting as they see us. The compound over here’s not too bad; it’s not as large as ours is though. I’m just hoping it’s big enough as to not run into Spin this trip. I don’t look forward to getting punched, unless I’m out craving a fight and today’s not one of those times.

  With my next step, a short female appears in front of me blocking my path, her hands land on my pecs. My cold gaze hits hers. It’s stormy which is normal when it comes to her and me being in the same room, things are usually tense. Her head cocks to the side. “You lost, VP? You’re the last person I was expecting to come walking through that door today.”

  Every nerve ending in my body tells me to take a step back, but that’s not my MO. If anything, my chest puffs further at her touch. “It wasn’t planned. What are you doing here, anyhow?” I play dumb. She’s supposed to be here for her wedding. I know that already, but I want her to have to admit it to my face. Why do I want that? Who the hell knows? I should just leave well enough alone, but I can’t seem to make myself do the right thing. I enjoy being an asshole far too much and with the shit this chick has pulled in the past, well, she deserves a little bit of torment.

  She smiles and it’s predatory. “You don’t know? Is that so?”

  “I don’t keep up with you, Mercy May. You know that.” With a grumble, I flick my stare over her frame. She’s still the same size, short, skinny, reminding me more of an emo chick on the verge of committing suicide than the talented graphic artist she is on the inside. The teal in her hair’s gone though, jet black in its place. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her with one hair color before. None of it matters though; I’ve long moved on from worrying about her well-being.

  She takes a step forward, invading my space. She’s close enough that with each breath I heave her breasts brush against my cut. My finger moves before I realize what I’m doing, the digit trailing down the serious cleavage she’s showing. She may have cleaned up like Spin had implied but she’s still Mercy—skintight jeans, halter top with enough cleavage on display that she may as well wear a damn bikini. And she wonders why I always dipped back around to fuck her occasionally. Hard not to when your tits are always hanging out and you’re giving it up easily.

  Her teeth bite down on her plump bottom lip as her skin warms, watching my finger trace each breast. Where’s this so-called soon-to-be husband of hers? If any man were to touch my property such as this, I’d be painting the floor with his face. He must be a pussy civilian, no doubt.

  “You’re going to start something that you won’t be able to finish,” she whispers.

  “I can finish it. Multiple times in fact, trust me on that,” I growl, moving my finger lower toward her pants.

  Torch steps up, bumping my shoulder. I’ve decked men for less, but at the moment, I’m grateful for his interference. “Mercy hope you’re staying out of trouble,” he mutters not really giving two shits before excusing her presence altogether as if she’s no more than a fly on the wall. “Odin, we gonna talk to the Prez?”

  My hands fall to my sides, clenching and unclenching repeatedly to keep from touching Mercy May as I get back on task. It’s so easy to fall right into old, bad habits. My gaze moves from her enticingly plump set of tits. “Yes,” I breathe, clearing my throat. “Right, my brother.”

  Stepping completely around Mercy, I don’t say anything else, just head for the Butcher’s table. It’s a total dick move, but I have to remind her and myself that I’m the asshole she can’t handle or tame. She’s never been able to get over that and it’s the most important thing for her to realize. Not that I wouldn’t mind a quick fuck or two with her, but we all know that it’s a bad idea. The bitch tried pretending to be pregnant for fuck’s sake to lock my cock down. That type of crazy is not for me or the club.

  “Butcher,” I acknowledge to the club president first, being respectful to the guy in charge here. Holding my fist out to him in greeting, I then incline a nod to recognize his ol’ man 2 Piece and his ol’ lady Avery. The fucker is crazy enough to claim two people as his, not just one.

  Ares returns the gesture, bumping my knuckles. “Odin, brother, what brings you out to our club today?”

  “It’s about Viking,” I admit, thankful that I have another person who’d watch out for my family and have our backs.

  “Have a seat.” He gestures to a chair at another table and I quickly slide it to the end of his booth to sit. Torch mumbles his hellos to the table and makes for the bar while I discuss my family shit.

  “Any chance my brother’s stopped through?” I know he’s not here now; his bike wasn’t parked out front. He wasn’t at his house or the bar we passed either and I’m running out of ideas.

  The man sits up a bit straighter, towering over the two sitting closely at his side. He’s heavily covered in ink, his shoulders wide and bulky like my brother. I’m jacked myself but on the taller, leaner side compared to the two. “No, but I spoke to him. He was shattered, needed to get some shit off his chest.”

  “Things were heated when we last saw each other,” I confess, my fists clenching again. I hate knowing that Viking’s not in a good place right now and because of our fight; I won’t be the one he calls if he needs any help.

  “I told him to go for a ride,” Ares admits. “He needs to clear his head and make peace with things he can’t change. Viking loves P, but right now he’s not feeling much like a man. At least not one good enough for her and it’s making him fuck up in places he shouldn’t be fucking up in.”

  “None of us had any idea things were going south, besides Nightmare and Bethany anyhow. They never would’ve betrayed their loyalty to my brother and Princess either. Not even to involve any of us for help. I had to find P in a damn bar, plastered off her ass. Things sort of exploded after that, between all of us.”

  “They need to stop fighting against each other and start fighting for one another,” the Butcher grumbles, throwin
g back the rest of his whiskey. Avery rubs his bare bicep, placing a peck on the tattooed skin.

  Every time I see the large guy he’s in a cut and jeans, probably from his Enforcer days. You learn to leave the shirts behind, because they always end up bloody and ruined after dealing with whomever you have to. Torch taught me that back in the day when I’d get sent out with him. He’s our Death Dealer—the kind of guy that’ll make an Enforcer shit his goddamn pants. That’s the patch Ares should’ve been given by the old Prez. I’ve heard some crazy ass stories about what happens to the people who cross Ares. They call him the Butcher around here for a reason.

  “Agreed. I didn’t want to bring this drama to your doorstep, brother, trust me. I’m trying to keep shit straight with the club, though, and with Princess finally clueing me in on what the fuck’s been going on I don’t have many options or time to waste.”

  “Don’t sweat it, they’re my family too. I think of Princess as a sister and you’re aware that I’m close with the old Prez. When it boils down to it, I’m glad the brother called me. I can tell you that Viking’s headed to the Gulf. Y’all need to give him a few days in the wind and he’ll figure shit out. In the meantime, you keep being the VP I know you are, that Viking knows you are. The club will run just fine for a few days with you in charge and if you need anything, you call me. Got it?”

  “Yeah,” I confirm, honored the guy has that much belief in me, as he’s a force and I know my brother respects him. “Appreciate it.”

  “It’s nothing. You’re welcome to throw some drinks back with us, but if you want to dip out unnoticed, Mercy just headed for the bathroom.”

  “Fucking shit,” I mutter, my hand rubbing over my face as I stand, remembering our interaction as I’d entered the clubhouse. “That’s my cue then; woman is going to get me punched by Spin again.

  Avery and 2 Piece both laugh, while the Butcher smirks, nodding. They know that shit’s true. Spin won’t hesitate; they’ve all bared witness to him coming after me before. “Ride safe.”