The Originals (Ghosttown Riders #10)

Chapter Four

“So where did you meet this young man?”

Meg turned from the door and walked through the living room. She would still be able to watch for Mick through the bay window. Not that she needed the visual when he arrived. The whole neighborhood would hear him when he pulled up on his motorcycle. Meg was having her doubts. Not about Mick but the parent introduction.

They were good people, decent humans, fair and welcoming. But there were aspects of this date which would be cause for concern for most parents. Aside from the obvious, being part of a motorcycle club whose stereotype didn’t paint the prettiest of pictures, Mick was older. Meg’s father was older than her mother by a few years. But not eleven.

“Meg, sweetheart?”

Shit. Her mother had asked something, but she’d been too preoccupied to remember.

“Pardon?”

Her mom smiled, almost gleaming. “The young man you’re smitten with? Where did you meet him?”

“A party?”

Her mother raised her brows. “The one at the church last week?”

Oh, God help me.

“No, a friend’s party.”

“Oh, well that’s nice. From high school?”

“He’s older.”

Her mother’s eyes widened. She was enjoying living vicariously through Meg. It was fair. It had been a long time since her mom had been on a formal date. Or even with someone other than her father. They’d been high school sweethearts, married shortly after they graduated. Meg had been born a year and a half later.

“A college boy?”

Meg didn’t know if Mick had ever attended college, but she could say with certainty it had been a while since he’d been a boy.

“I don’t think so.” She nibbled on the edge of her fingernail. Meg needed to shut down this conversation before her mother asked more questions.

She had to hand it to Mick. He had perfect timing. He pulled up a minute later, and she felt a rush of butterflies swarm her belly. Meg tried to keep her enthusiasm at a minimum in front of her mother, but she wasn’t masking it well. When she started to the door, her mother watched her with a playful smile and started to get up from the chair. The only saving grace was her father working late.

Meg quickened her steps and opened the door just as Mick was reaching for the bell.

“Hi,” she blurted, hearing her pitch tighten.

His slow smile was beyond sexy, and she was reconsidering her “no sex on a second date” rule. Fortunately, her mother’s voice was enough to knock her back into a realistic state of mind.

“Hello there.” Her mother’s sudden pause had the heat rising in Meg’s face. She slowly turned to see her mother staring at Mick with a puzzled look. It wasn’t off putting or rude, but clearly she’d caught her mother off guard.

“Mom,” Meg whispered, and her mother broke into a huge smile.

“I apologize. I’m Donna, Meg’s mom.”

Mick offered his hand. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m John McMillian.”

John? I thought his name was Mick.

Her mother stepped up beside her and leaned to the right. She pointed to the street and looked over at Mick.

“Is that your motorcycle?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Her mother’s smile faltered, and Meg flattened her lips. This would probably lead to a discussion when she got home. Her mom looked over at her and forced a smile.

“How fun.” Her mother was trying, but her comment was laced with concern.

Her poor mother. She’d probably stay up for the rest of the night worried about Meg getting into an accident. She was about to try and put her mother at ease. But surprisingly, Mick beat her to it.

“It is. Also a big responsibility when I’ve got a passenger. I take that seriously.” Mick paused. “I’m very careful with precious cargo.”

Meg looked over at her mother after giving Mick a warm smile.

Good answer, Mick.

While she was sure her mother would still worry, she seemed happy with his response. She placed her hand on Meg’s back, ushering her out the door.

“You two have a good night.”

She waved to her mother and started down the walkway with him.

“I think you charmed my mom.”

“Yeah? You think she’ll put in a good word for me with her daughter?”

Meg fought against a smile and lost. She peeked over at Mick as he grabbed her hand, walking her to the bike.

“So.” Meg paused. “I thought your name was Mick.”

“Short for McMillian.”

“Oh,” she whispered. “You didn’t tell me.”

“You never asked.” Mick winked. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that her mother was watching through the window. She’d be dealing with the interrogation tomorrow, but for now she was just going to enjoy her time with Mick.

My first real party at the clubhouse.

*

Meg hadn’t been nervous about the party until they pulled into the lot at the clubhouse. Her focus had mainly been on Mick. But there were more people than she’d expected. The lot was nearly full, with several bikes and a few cars on the side yard.

Mick parked in what seemed a designated spot for his bike. It was midway between the front and back yards, giving her a view of both. There were crowds of people everywhere and rock music blasted in the background.

Meg slowly spun around, taking it all in. She’d been to plenty of parties in her life, but none as big as this one. Mick came up at her back and wrapped his arms around her waist, his hands resting on her stomach. She’d worn a shirt that showed a sliver of her belly. Mick was taking full advantage, and he caressed his fingers over her skin. His mouth brushed against her ear.

“This—” He paused, kissing her neck. “Is a club party.”

Yes, it is.

Mick straightened, grabbed her hand, and led her through the crowds toward the front door. It was a bit overwhelming, to say the least. Without realizing it, she hesitated, pulling at his arm. Mick immediately stopped, turned, and moved in closer, only a foot away.

“What’s wrong?”

She parted her lips but couldn’t quite find the words. She looked over her shoulder and then the other. Mick curved his hand under her chin, forcing her to look at him.

“You scared?”

“No, not scared. Just uh—” She glanced around the area again. There were a lot of bikers and half-dressed women hanging around the yard. Mick squeezed her hand, and she looked up at him.

“Nervous?”

“A little,” she whispered.

He smiled and leaned in, brushing his lips against hers for a soft kiss.

“Nothing to be nervous about. It ain’t your first time here.”

Maybe that was the problem. She’d thought she’d been prepared, but as Mick pointed out, the prior time was a gathering. This was a party.

“You seem to forget that last time I spent the majority of my time alone in the corner.”

Mick chuckled, shaking his head. “Not tonight. You’re with me, and I ain’t leaving your side.”

It was reassuring. Kind of. It helped but didn’t completely dissolve her apprehension. Mick didn’t give her any time to argue and led her across the front yard. He stopped a few times, introducing her to a few brothers.

They weren’t even five feet in the door when she saw the display in the corner of the room. Oh my God . There were two women bent over the back of the couch getting fucked by two men. The woman on the right was also giving a blow job to a man standing in front of her. Off to the side, only a foot away, another couple were against the wall having sex. It was like something out of a triple X-rated movie. It was almost hard to see where one person started and the other ended. Random limbs, breasts, asses, and dicks.

Meg felt the heat rise to her cheeks and quickly turned her head, tightening her hold over Mick’s hand. It was impossible to see where he was leading her through the sea of people until he abruptly stopped. Meg peered around his arm.

A woman, with a plunging halter top a few sizes too small, grasped Mick’s forearm and nestled close to his chest.

“Hey baby. You want a drink?”

Meg pushed her way to Mick’s side, bumping into another man. When the woman glanced over, her lip curled in a mocking smile.

“Sweetheart?”

Meg looked up at him, but he wasn’t speaking to Meg. That hit her harder than it should’ve.

“Gonna get my own drink,” Mick said, and grabbed the woman’s hip, moving her aside.

There was definitely a familiarity between the two that had Meg loosening her hold on his hand. She wasn’t so na?ve as to think Mick hadn’t been with other women. But it was a whole new thing to have it thrown in her face. Meg drew in a breath, fighting against her rising anger. This woman would only ruin Meg’s night if she allowed it.

Mick started toward the bar, clasping Meg’s hand and passing the girl. The woman smiled, though it seemed forced, and as she stepped away, she eyed Meg with a venomous glare.

Meg simply smiled. It was a bit catty but well-deserved. Mick chose.

And it’s not you, sweetheart.

****

Mick hadn’t had a specific game plan for bringing Meg to the party. He’d figured they’d hang out, have some drinks, give formal introductions to his brothers, especially those closest to him. Much like meeting her mother, Mick wanted to bring her into his life. Meeting his brothers was his version of meeting his family.

They’d spent the last hour at the bar with Jack, Grain, and a few others. After the run in with Bebe, Mick sensed Meg’s annoyance and pulling away slightly. Spending time with his brothers seemed to ease her tension. Colleen walked over, smiling at Meg.

“Can I get you another?”

Meg glanced down at her beer and smiled, shaking her head. “No, thanks. I’m pacing myself.”

Colleen giggled as she sauntered away. While Mick kept his gaze respectable, the others followed her every move as she circled the bar and headed toward the front of the room.

“Anyone catch the train with her last week?” Dove asked.

Mick hadn’t but he’d heard about it. Colleen was young, much like Meg, in her mid-twenties. Stacked and showing everything she had to offer. Unlike the girl from earlier, Colleen didn’t make advances or flirt with Mick. If anything, her attention was more on Meg, offering her a refill when her beer was low and complimenting Meg’s earrings. While he didn’t necessarily foresee a lifelong friendship between Meg and Colleen, he appreciated the effort. It was as if Colleen recognized Meg’s nervousness and wanted to make her feel welcome.

“I’ve been on a train. I loved it. But really, I mean, who doesn’t love riding a train?” Meg chuckled.

Fuck. Mick brushed his hand over his mouth, concealing his smile. Her innocence was showing. Meg would never live that comment down. He shared a look with Jack, who was smiling at her. If anyone would show her a little grace, it was Jack Reilly. Unfortunately, he was the only one.

“She pulled a train.” Grain snorted and grabbed his glass, shooting back the rest of his bourbon.

Meg’s brows knitted, and Mick saw her confusion. He would’ve loved nothing more than a swift change in subject, but Grain felt the need to provide a definition.

“She fucked the brothers one right after the other.” He arched his brow, smirking.

“She had sex with all of you?” Her jaw fell open.

“Not me.” Mick was quick to point out he hadn’t been a part of that train. It wasn’t to say he hadn’t in the past, but that wasn’t something he’d be sharing with Meg just yet.

Jack waved his hand and shook his head, and Grain slammed his hand on the bar. “We missed it ’cause of the fucking traffic. Son of a bitch.”

As for the others, there were a few who lifted their hands and quite a few nods.

“Why would she do that?” Meg whispered. Mick wasn’t sure if she was just asking herself or him, but unfortunately, it was loud enough for his brother to hear it.

Grain burst out laughing. “Said it yourself, everyone loves riding a train.”

Mick gave in to a chuckle. He wasn’t laughing at her, just the situation. In time, she’d be able to look back and appreciate her naivete. She quickly picked up her bottle and took a long sip, looking around but refusing to look at him. Mick rested his hand on her thigh, hoping to provide a little comfort.

“Oh shit, Mack don’t look happy,” Dove said, straightening his back and staring at the front door.

Mick, along with the others, looked over. The VP, Mack, and a few others, had come back from their run. Dove’s statement was accurate. Mack stormed in, pointing to the back hall where they gathered for their meetings. Something must’ve gone wrong.

As the members at the bar stood, Jack glanced over, looking at Meg, then Mick. A verbal order was unnecessary. Jack always called a meeting immediately after a job. Everything else was pushed to the side. In Mick’s case that meant leaving Meg by herself.

Mick rested his hand on her thigh, and she jerked toward him. Mick ground his teeth, silently cursing. She was already nervous and out of her element. And he was going to compound that by leaving her alone at the bar. It wasn’t lost on Mick that he was about to go back on his word he’d given her an hour earlier.

“Where’s everyone going?” she asked, her eyes darting around the room.

Mick squeezed her leg, gaining her attention. “Got a quick meeting. Won’t be more than fifteen minutes. You stay here, have another drink.”

When he stood, dropping his hand from her leg, she grabbed it.

“You’re leaving?” There was a small shake in her voice, which only added to his guilt. Before he could respond, Grain called him.

“Mick! Let’s fucking go. Waiting on you, brother.”

Mick ignored Grain and leaned in, brushing his lips against hers while pulling his hand from her hold. “Fifteen minutes. Tops.”

Mick kissed her again quickly and rounded her back. He walked through the doorway in the rear of the room and down the narrow hallway. When they’d found the building for their clubhouse, they’d done a lot of construction. Three rooms at the far end of the house were converted into one large room designed for holding members’ meeting.

Mick walked in, heading straight to his seat next to Jack. As VP, Mack usually sat on the other side of the president, but he was currently pacing around the room. Mack dragged his hands over his head.

“How’d it go?” Jack asked.

Mick bit back a smile. Jack’s casual tone was the opposite of Mack’s rage-filled demeanor. In all fairness, Mack was a hothead and tended to bring a lot of unnecessary drama. Mick had no doubt, after years of it, Jack regretted making Mack his VP.

Mack turned, glaring. “How’d it fucking go? That’s what you asked? A gunfight, Jack, that’s how it fucking went.”

Mick stilled, as did every member in the room. Except Jack. He settled into his chair, eyeing Mack and the others who’d been on the run.

“You good?” Jack asked.

A few brothers nodded, and Dunn answered. “Yeah, we’re good, Jack.”

Jack’s priority had always been keeping his men safe.

Mack stalked to the table and grabbed the back of a chair, white-knuckling it.

“What happened?” Jack asked.

“Fucking shot at!” Mack screamed and spread his arms. He was obviously worked up and rightfully so. “Been telling you this for the last fucking year, Jack. Got a lot of new clubs forming, looking to make a name for themselves. We gotta make ourselves known.”

Ghosttown Riders MC was known. It was the largest club in the state and the most feared. But there had been a shift in the last year. Their days as “every club for themselves” were coming to an end. Groups were aligning, making them stronger in numbers. If the smaller clubs banded together outnumbering Ghosttown, that would be an issue.

There’d also been concerns about these clubs taking over jobs originally earmarked for Ghosttown at a lower pay rate. Making money was always a priority but not the cornerstone for the club. Even so, over the last few years the tide had turned in their criminal activity. They voted to take riskier jobs for larger payouts. No one was willing to let another club come in and take what was rightfully Ghosttown’s.

Being one of Jack’s closest allies, Mick was privy to information not all members had. Jack knew what was happening. But he was weighing his options, wanting to lead the club in the best and safest direction. As the years had gone on, it was a harder feat. Groups were already staking claim over territory. The honor system was fading out.

“Where?” Jack asked.

Mack pressed his fists into his hips and sighed. “Up by Lawry.”

Mick shared a look with Jack. The state was basically divided into thirds. Ghosttown claimed the lower section of the state, which spanned the rural areas all the way up to Blacksburg. It wasn’t as big of a city as Lawry, but it was growing. It was a decent claim for the club.

The up-state area was run by Inez, who capitalized on drug running. Many people doubted her ability, even mocked her efforts. But it was a foolish perception that neither Mick nor Jack bought into. Mark my words, Inez is building an empire.

The middle section of the state, and by far the largest and most lucrative domain, was run by Sal Caruso. While the club didn’t function under a command mentality, everyone had to answer to someone. It was common knowledge that Sal, who ran the Underground, ruled the state. Up until now, everyone had honored the others’ territories, but times were changing.

“I say we take on Sal.”

Mick drew in a breath and subtly shook his head. Mack had always been unpredictable and not the most profound thinker. He was more about flexing muscles than using the strongest muscle in his body. His brain.

“You’re suggesting starting a war?” Jack cocked his brow. “That’s your idea?”

“Yeah, it fucking is,” Mack snapped, and spun, looking at the members. “We got the numbers.”

Grain scoffed. “Are you fucking crazy? Sal’s got numbers we don’t see. He’s got his people everywhere. We start anything with the Underground, we may as well sign our own fucking death certificates.”

Grain wasn’t always the most level-headed, but he was speaking the truth. Mick looked over at his president. Jack took a long pull from his cigarette and sat in silence. This wasn’t a decision that would be made tonight.

“Gonna make some calls.” Jack paused, glancing around the room, then zoning in on Mack. “You get the name of the club?”

Mack sneered. “Some bullshit name. I don’t fucking know.”

Jack slammed his hand on the table, gaining everyone’s attentions. “Well, fucking find out. Not gonna let anyone take a shot at this club without retribution.”

Someone would pay for their mistake.