Chapter 1
The parking lot hadbeen dead for years, the kind of dead that scared everyone else away.Cracked asphalt spread out beneath a gray sky.Weeds clawed through old oil stains.The Kmart building at the back of the lot sat like a rotting carcass, its faded red K half-torn down, its windows dark and empty.
A few menacing crows sat on the roof, witnesses to the meeting between the Royalla Motorcycle Club and the Cusclan MC.
Baddy sat on his Harley, letting the engine rumble until Kodiak signaled that the meeting would go on.He planted his boots on either side of the bike, keeping his arms loose but prepared.Meetings like this never ran smoothly.Two enemy clubs, two motives, and money that never stayed clean for long.
The other club finally shut down its engines.Baddy clenched his teeth and looked them over.Patches he didn't respect.Faces he didn't trust.Then he saw something he'd never seen at a meeting before.
A child.
Too small for the helmet on her head, she struggled to keep it steady.The protection wobbled on her skull as she held onto the waist of one of the riders.A young girl, maybe in her early teens, riding pillion as if she belonged there.
Disgust crawled up Baddy's spine.
He refocused his attention on the meeting as the presidents approached.The deal looked straightforward on paper.They aimed to move stolen car parts through neutral territory.But nothing ever turned out simple in this lifestyle.
Prices were wrong.Quantities didn't match.Accusations flew, voices rose, and hands drifted too close to weapons.
Baddy listened.All he had to do was protect Kodiak.Cusclan had bad energy.They were too greedy and careless in their dealings with others.Their reputation was as dirty as the stripper at the corner titty bar.
He glanced at the girl.They were especially careless, bringing a kid to something like this.
The conversation hit a wall.No handshake.No agreement.
Kodiak walked away without looking back, confident that the other Royalla members would shield him.He scanned the others, ensuring none of them reached for a weapon.
The Cusclan members got on their motorcycles.Engines roared to life, tension vibrating through the depressing lot.Baddy grabbed the handlebars when a movement caught his attention.
An arm swung back, and an open hand cut through the air.He looked up in time to see the man with the girl spin around, his hand coming down hard across her helmeted head.The sound of his large stainless-steel ring hitting the ABS plastic outer shell of the helmet cut through the noise.She flinched but didn't cry out.She only shrank in on herself as he barked something Baddy couldn't hear over the engines.The man climbed back onto the bike as if nothing had happened and tore out of the lot, the girl clinging on behind him as they disappeared down the access road.
Baddy's hands tightened around his grips.
For a split second, he considered chasing them.He wondered what it would feel like to knock that man off his bike and leave him bleeding for the crows to pick at.But the thought quickly faded, buried under the weight of reality, rules, and his brothers' watchful eyes.
He kicked his bike to life and rode away with the others in the opposite direction.
The road to the clubhouse blurred beneath him, the wind biting through his vest.Usually, the ride cleared his head.Tonight, it failed to relax him.All he could see was that girl's wide eyes, the way she'd taken the hit without a sound, like she'd learned not to react.
By the time he pulled into the compound, the sun painted everything in rust and shadows.He shut off the engine and sat there longer than usual, helmet still on, staring at nothing.
He hated deals gone bad.Hated wasted time.But more than that, he hated knowing there were kids growing up in the middle of this mess, learning early that violence came with loyalty, that silence was safer than protest.
Baddy finally swung off the bike and headed inside, the weight of tonight still riding his shoulders.The meeting was over, but the image stayed with him.
And he knew it wasn't going to let go anytime soon.
