Blood (Kings if Sin MC #1)

6. Clubhouse

CHAPTER 6

CLUBHOUSE

W e drive for around ten minutes before turning onto a road with a Closed sign beside it. A little farther, a Private Property sign with bullet holes stands in warning. The car finally slows in front of a huge metal gate, staying back from the bikes in front. Unlike our clubhouse, there are watchtowers on either side with men holding assault rifles standing guard. “This a club or a prison?” I jest, giving Kitty a skeptical look over my shoulder.

She types away on her phone, lifting her head once we’re inside and the gates are closing behind us, but it’s Tim who answers. “It’s for the club’s safety. Someone took out our pres a couple weeks back.” His eyes blaze.

Kitty kicks the back of his chair and the car swerves. “Is that her business or club business?” A pink tinge creeps over his cheeks, and his eyes flit to hers in the rearview mirror.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I lie, offering her a soft smile. “Do you know who did it?”

“If we did, they’d be hanging from the gate, minus their insides,” she spews, hate and anger wrapped around her tone. I get it. It’s what’s going to happen to Harley’s killers.

“Way to kill the mood, Tim,” one of the women hisses. Pushing the door open, she climbs out as he brings the Jeep to a stop.

“Thanks for the ride.” I wave behind me as I follow Kitty toward the building. “Sorry to pry.” I cringe, hurrying to keep in step with her.

“A prospect should know better. It’s not your fault, but it’s best not to mention it inside, yeah?”

“Of course.” I squeeze her shoulder. “This place is huge.” I change the subject, taking in the massive gray walls.

“It was a bunch of old factories. The club bought them at an auction and turned them into the home for Sinners.” She stuffs her phone into her pocket as mine vibrates. I know it’s Tyler asking where I am. Again. He’d have an aneurysm if he knew the answer. It’s still hard to process. But here I am.

“You want to get that? There are no calls for visitors allowed inside. So, if it’s important…”

“It’s not.” I shake my head and hand her my purse. I anticipated my phone being confiscated. I already deleted most of my contacts. The ones I did keep, I changed their names.

We enter a foyer, and she hands my purse to an older woman, who is greeted with cheek kisses and ass slaps from the brothers pouring inside. “Rogue, this is Diamond. She takes care of us.”

“Nice to meet you.” Large hoop earrings hang from her drooping earlobes. She has dark red, backcombed hair with strands a good few inches from her scalp and heavy makeup sits in the cracks of her skin.

“You too, darlin’. You can collect this from the closet over there when you’re ready to leave.” She draws out the vowels with a southern twang to her voice.

“Thanks.”

Their clubhouse is way bigger than ours. Security cameras are all over this place. On the outside, it’s a prison. Once inside, it’s more like a hotel—a really nice hotel. Kitty walks me past a kitchen that could rival any restaurant.

“Diamond makes the best chili dogs.” She rubs her stomach and fake drools. “But they’ll have your ass on fire the next day.”

We pass a game room and movie room before entering the main entertainment space. A full working bar extends along the entire back wall where there are brothers occupying every barstool. Why would they go to the bar in town when they have this here? A curvy brunette bends and twirls around a stripper pole, lust-filled eyes watching her every move. Soft rock music pulses through the room, bringing it to life.

The giggling trio have made their way here, all three doting over an older-looking man. “That’s Daddy.” Kitty snorts, knocking her shoulder into mine. My eyes flare wide, making her chuckle. “Those wenches have issues, and he feeds off them.” She shrugs. “Not my kink, but to each their own,” she adds, waving me over to the bar.

Two beers appear in front of her without her even having to order. She hands me one then rests her elbows on the bar, perusing the room.

“You looking for your man?” I ask, hating the trepidation I feel waiting for her answer.

“I don’t have a man.” She bristles, the very idea appearing to rattle her.

“Oh, sorry. I thought the guy at the bar…”

“What guy?” She moves closer, her face hardening with panic.

“The dark-haired guy you were talking to.” I shake my head.

“Callan?” she blurts. Her features iron out as she takes a relieved breath. “That’s my brother.” Chugging half her beer, she adds, “That’s not my kink either, FYI.” Then beams like a wicked deviant.

Brother? I won’t analyze the relief I feel at hearing that.

“What is your kink?” I tip my beer to my lips as two shot glasses are filled in front of us. The liquid rushes to my empty stomach, reminding me I need to eat. I wonder if Diamond would whip me up one of her chili dogs.

Kitty drags her gaze up the body of a brother standing close by—the same one who was watching her at the bar and talking to Callan outside—and licks her lips. He has loose, long blond hair to his shoulders, which makes him appear younger than I believe he is. His stunning blue eyes survey the room, on guard.

“I haven’t worked that out yet.” Sighing, she turns to me. “What about you?”

I blow out a breath, scrunching my nose. I haven’t been with anyone but Tyler, and he’s a lazy lover. “I wouldn’t call it a kink, but I prefer a rough hand,” I tell her honestly. She bellows a hearty laugh before rolling her eyes at someone over my shoulder.

“How rough?” The deep timber of his voice blankets me, sliding into my core and sprinkling goosebumps over my flesh. I don’t need to see his face to know who’s standing beside me. My pussy throbs as his body heat licks over me.

The proximity is so intrusive. So delicious. Keeping my voice steady, despite my nerves making my stomach twist, I turn to face him. “Enough to leave a mark.” I shouldn’t be flirting, but the alcohol is doing the thinking for me, aiding my confidence.

Keeping my features blank, I lower my eyes down his body, unrushed and outright lustful. He’s so much taller than I thought he’d be. His size dwarfs mine, and fuck if that’s not a turn on. I want to lose myself beneath him.

“Is that so?” He pauses, deliberately leaving me waiting and observing every inch of my reactions like a beast taunting his meal. And like an obedient puppy waiting for a treat, I absorb everything he has to offer. Pathetic .

“My bite would definitely leave a mark.” Every word he says is drawn out, setting my womb on fire. My nipples pebble, rubbing against the fabric of my shirt.

Closing the tiny gap between us, I inhale his scent. Liquor and sin, a hint of rain, undertones of spice. No one should smell this good.

I shouldn’t be enticing a man like him, but there’s energy in my veins for the first time in weeks, and I can’t stop myself from asking, “Where would you like that bite to be?” It’s a purr, a challenge, a sultry, wistful moan.

His large palm wraps around my throat, sending my pulse skyrocketing against the pads of his fingers. My panties flood, and there’s an ache so intense that it steals the air from my lungs. I hate it. I love it.

Leaning over me to force my back against the rim of the bar, he whispers, “Everywhere.”

My heart pounds in every inch of my body. Sparks lick at my skin. Then his hand is gone and he strolls away like it never happened. My body hums in his wake like he just hate-fucked me against the bar.

Tracking his departure, I will myself to regain composure. I won’t allow myself to forget who he is and what he represents. Liar.

Refocusing myself, I down the shot of tequila in front of me. I can’t forget why I’m here, especially not for a pretty face and the sexual promise it holds.

“Be careful with that one.” Kitty shakes her head, and I startle, forgetting she was there. “He’s my brother and I love him, but every woman in this place wants in his pants. And these bitches are feral—especially that one.” She jerks her chin to a dark-haired woman with eyes the color of a wolf glaring at me like I just killed her pup. “Georgina is fucking territorial. You don’t want any of that drama.”

“I can handle myself,” I say, sending a sugary sweet smile in Georgina’s direction. “But honestly, I didn’t come here for that. I just wanted to have a good time with a new friend.”

“Cheers to that.” She clinks her bottle against mine. “It’s weird. I’ve never seen Callan act like that with a woman before.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s not open with conquests or picking up women. Callan’s always been private with that stuff.”

That surprises me. A man in this environment with looks like that…Tyler sure as hell isn’t private and he should be.

“You don’t raw dog in my fucking bed,” someone yells. The sound of fists flying and making contact reminds me where I am. Who I’m with.

Callan is there in an instant, ordering a group to take it outside.

“Fight!” Kitty shouts, gaining her a round of cheers as the place empties out through a fire-exit door at the back of the room. “Come on.” She grabs our beer bottles, which keep getting replenished and leads me along with the crowd. The night is still muggy, the air sticky and thick.

“Is that a boxing ring?”

“Yep.” She skips toward the fighting ring set up outside. “Best way to settle grievances.” Excitement lights her eyes. An electric energy sizzles in the air. Pushing through the sea of people who have gathered with their drinks, I follow.

Money begins exchanging hands as they bet on their brothers. Kitty points to a tall, thin guy stripping off his top. “Green is a little wiry, but that makes him fast and gives him a long reach.” She gestures to the brute in the other corner. “Grease is hard as nails, but tires fast. You want to put money down?”

I look between the men, one much larger in muscle and width. “You took my purse with my wallet inside,” I remind her.

“I’ll spot you.” She pulls a wad of cash from her bra and waves it at a man writing the bets on a notepad. “Who you betting on?”

“I think the big guy could take out Green if he gets a hit on him.” Brute force will win this one.

“He has to catch him first,” she reminds me, shouting over the noise.

“Let’s go with Green then.” I’m jostled around as sweaty bodies close in.

“One hundred on Green.” The guy takes her money and writes down our bet, shaking his head at her. A bell rings, and the two brothers begin circling each other.

Green takes the first swing, hitting the larger man in the gut. Spitting phlegm, Grease roars and pounds his chest like an ape before making a grab for Green and missing.

“Why do they call him Green?” The crowd is loud and boisterous, forcing me to lean over to shout in Kitty’s ear.

“Because he can’t handle his drugs or beer,” she shouts. A couple brothers surrounding us slap her on the back, howling with laughter. “He turns green.” She looks at them and crosses her eyes.

Fists hit flesh with sickening thuds. Blood paints the ring’s canvas as the two men go at each other with savagery. I find myself looking through the crowd, seeking out Callan. It’s stupid to have such an obsession with someone I can never have, but my mind and body aren’t in sync. My pussy doesn’t seem to understand she can’t be his…even for a night.

A wet drip hits my cheek. I lift my head to the sky. Not a cloud in sight. I swipe at my cheek and look down at my hand. Red liquid smears across my fingers. Blood.

Harley.

My sister blasts into my thoughts, reminding me that one of these men is responsible for killing her.

“Boom!” Kitty jeers. I turn my attention back to the ring to see Grease standing over a battered Green.

“Here,” she says excitedly, picking something up from the edge of the ring and holding her hand out to me. I open my palm and don’t flinch when a tooth drops into it.

“A memento.”

“Erm…thanks.” I push the tooth into my pocket. Gross .

“Let’s do more shots.” Her voice rings out, getting an approving response.

“We lost, right?” I check once more that it is, in fact, Green who is out cold in the ring.

“Hence the shots.” Her blue hair shines under the hue of the moonlight like a beacon as she pushes through the crowd until we’re back inside. Instead of heading for the bar, she grabs my hand and tugs me to the dance floor. A pole dancer next to us sways her hips to the soft bass. I allow the music to flow through me, loosening my limbs.

We dance together, the alcohol fueling us. For a little while, I forget why I’m here. I forget who I am and just live.

We bellow the lyrics to every song, leaving my throat raw. Kitty’s magnetic aura draws everyone around her closer. A sheen of sweat coats my skin, my throat aches from singing, and there’s happiness in my smile. For once, I don’t have to fake it.

Slipping away, I head for the restroom, finding it tucked down a long corridor. After finishing my business, I check my flushed face in the mirror while washing my hands. The small amount of makeup I applied earlier today is nonexistent now. I wipe smudges from the remnants of my mascara away from my wide, green eyes. My small nose and big lips gifted from my mother are tinged pink from the alcohol. Damp with sweat, my long hair lay in a tangled mess across my back. As I dry my hands, I hear a growl from my stomach, demanding food. I’m exhausted and hungry.

I’ve made good progress befriending Kitty, but a twinge of guilt chews away at me. I genuinely like her, but I’m not here to make friends. This is for Harley.

“You got this,” I tell my reflection, splashing cold water over my face and straightening my shirt. I nudge the door with my shoulder, and a gasp flees my lungs as I crash into a solid wall.

Callan’s domineering frame blocks my exit. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Fuck.