Making my way inside the clubhouse, I nod to some of the boys hanging around playing the tables. We have several of the boys live here full time, taking residence in the apartments out the back. They are the ones who don’t have a home outside of the club, but on weekends, we have a full house from Friday afternoon till Sunday night.

I’ll stay a couple of times a week. I have my room in the main clubhouse, which makes it easier when I don’t have Z, but I like to go home to my own bed when he’s staying with me. We run a clean club but sometimes it can get wild, something that a pre-teen shouldn’t be seeing. Walking up to the bar, I signal our latest prospect Hunter, to grab me a beer. We’re not a strict club with prospects, but with our history, we like to keep the club on low numbers. Hunter is Brooks’ old lady’s nephew. So far, the boy is doing good and looks set to patch in a few weeks from now.

Cheers sound around the large open area in the clubhouse as Jesse walks in after me.

"What's that about?" I ask Brooks, sitting down next to him.

“Apparently, Jesse had a screamer last night,” he replies shaking his head. I grin, thinking only Jesse would be gloating about a screamer.

Thoughts of Kadence come creeping in and the many times I made her scream. The woman is a knockout in bed. Shit, the stories I could share. The woman goes off like a rocket and is so damn responsive. I keep my mouth shut, not even sure I’m gonna see her again after the way I left her, but I fucking know I don’t want anyone to know how amazing she is.

After Addison, I lived it up, banging anything and everything, not the slight bit interested in settling down. The last eight years I’ve lived the bachelor life, loving it even, but one night with Kadence has me questioning it all. I need to keep repeating to myself that one night doesn’t equal a relationship, and relationship? What the fuck.

Beau pulls up a stool beside Brooks. “Hey, man, we might have an issue,” he reports quietly. Looking over at my VP and best friend, I take in his concerned face.

“What’s up?” I question, hoping this weekend isn’t gonna cause me problems. Z's with his mom for the weekend and I was looking forward to a few stress-free nights. After our meeting with Kadence, things have been tense, and I’m starting to get concerned. Kadence is right. My boy is holding on to some serious anger, and no matter what, I can’t get him to open up to me.

“Sy ran into some problems last night closing up Ink Me.”

Sylas is the newest brother, who earned his cut, and an old friend. He’s the quiet fucker of the bunch and rounds out the main group of brothers who handle the business side of things. I’ve known Sy since I was a kid, but he pissed off when school finished. No one knew where he went and we still don’t. His pops was a brother alongside my dad, one of the originals. When he got sick three years back, Sylas came home to look after him and never left. After hanging around, seeing the way the club now ran, he wanted in. It didn’t take long for the boys to decide he would fit in.

“What happened?” I ask, wondering what sort of problems the new ink shop’s gonna bring me. I wasn’t too keen on the shop, adding another business means more work, especially one I knew nothing about, but we soon learnt Sy apprenticed in tattooing and piercing while he was away. He manages the store and works the needle most days.

“Says there’s been some of Kings’ men hanging around at the front of the store last few nights. Then last night, there were some of Gunners’ men.”

Our county has been home to two motorcycle clubs over the last thirty years. My old man ran this town the way he wanted back then, not afraid to get bloody, which caused most of the problems for the Knights Rebels Originals. Back when Pops started getting into the guns trade, he moved in on the Warriors of Mayhem territory, causing a conflict between the clubs. For years it ran deep, causing a lot of blood loss between them, only ending after we got our revenge for my mom.

The Mayhems were the bigger club, but the Knights still put up a fight, until my pops and the Mayhems’ Prez, came to an agreement; we held to our own town, dealing in whores and some small drug running gigs, while their club would deal the weapons and run the rest of the county. It wasn’t until years later when and I was voted in, that I could begin to fade out the drugs and women. We’ve managed to keep to our business, living legit, and they’ve kept to theirs. As long as drugs don’t hit Rushford streets, we keep our distance, and they keep theirs.

“Why the fuck are the Mayhems in town?” Brooks asks, knowing this could spell trouble.

“Rumor has it, their club’s been having some problems within their own members. A change within ranks has stirred up some bad shit, plus Gunner Jamieson, is setting up on their territory,” Beau speaks up, filling me in on the bullshit that comes with the territory.

“Set up a meeting with T,” I say, wondering how the old VP, now Prez, will respond. T never did like the truce between the two clubs, thinking it would be bad for business on both sides, but when we went clean, it opened them up to more business, so I guess it worked out for everyone.

For five years now we’ve kept the truce. While I wouldn’t put it past him to drag up some bullshit, my guess would be on Gunner Jamieson. The bastard has been inching closer and closer the last few months and gathering momentum. Transporting and distributing methamphetamine, cornering the market, we gave up. We’ve kept an eye on it, but it might be time to take the next step, secure what’s ours and make sure the Warriors of Mayhem are with us. As the saying goes, an enemy of an enemy makes you a friend. We might not be on the illegal side of things, but when you push, we will push back. My pops earned our club's position here, and respect comes with that.

Beau nods his head and takes off to take care of setting up a meeting. Turning around, I look out of the clubhouse and start to feel restless. I need to get my head straight. Pushing off the bar, I make my way to my office; getting my head stuck into some paperwork instead of the feisty woman might help.

***

Six hours later and I’m done with the day. If it weren’t drug gangs creeping into our territory, it was drama after fucking drama. Fuckups after fuckups. The new club we refurbished and opened last month, Liquid, has been taking all the brothers time. It’s not my fucking scene, but the money it’s pulled us has been worth the chaos.

Now with the new ink shop, I’m beginning to wonder if we’re stretching ourselves thin. Running my hands over my face, I decide to call it a night. Closing up my office, I go downstairs to the club bar ready to knock back a few and maybe get my dick wet. I’ve decided I’m gonna try to fuck Kadence out of mind. I’ve been fighting it for too long. Unless I tie her down to get her to admit she wants me, there’s no way I’m gonna get through to her. Sliding up to the old oak bar, I call out for a beer and search out the talent for the night.

“Hey, Nix,” Christina, one of the club whores, says coming up to the bar five minutes later. I don't normally like to touch the free-for-alls. Some can get a little crazy and no one needs crazy constantly following you around. After Addison, I’m not interested in crazy. After Kadence, I’m fucked up, so who knows what I want.

“Hey, Chrissie,” I say, giving her one of my come-and-ride-my-cock smiles. Fuck it, tonight I need easy, and she’s the one standing in front of me. She looks up, searching for my approval. Leaning in, I hook my hand around her neck and pull her sticky pink lips to mine. My dick stirs, but not enough for me to stay interested. Well, that’s a fucking first.

Shit, the teacher has ruined me.

Deepening the kiss, I’m silently pleased to hear my cell sound in my back pocket. Pulling back, I turn, dismissing Christina to answer the call.