Authors: Needa Warrant
A Nefarious MC novella
This book is intended for (18+) mature readers and contains
adult sexual content, vulgar language, drinking & drug use, and violence.
Copyright © 2015 by Needa Warrant
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without the express written consent from the author, except in the case of a reviewer, who may quote brief passages embodied in critical articles or in a review.
Trademarked names appear throughout this book. Rather than trademarked name, names are used in an editorial fashion, with no intention of infringement of the respective owner’s trademark.
The information in this book is distributed on an “as is” basis, without warranty. Although every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this work, neither the author nor the publisher shall have any liability to any person or entity with respect to any loss or damage caused or alleged to be caused directly or indirectly by the information contained in this book.
The characters, locations, and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity or resemblance to real persons, living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. This book is entirely based on the imagination of the author.
Copyright © 2015 Needa Warrant
Published by Needa Warrant
Backrest Bytches Publishing
Cover Design by Tabby Coots
Interior Formatting & Design by Daryl Banner
Edited by Daryl Banner
The snow was coming down fast and it was chilly in the Nefarious MC Clubhouse. Another log was shoved into the woodstove and the smoky air filled the large room. Everyone was thinking of Christmas and how they were planning to spend the holidays. Darko had taken Dusty away since she needed a break, leaving Black Dog in charge. He was determined that nothing would get fucked up while his president was gone. The wind was blowing and shaking the old building as the door blew open.
Dee and Willie walked in with tins of cookies in their arms while Mad Jack carried a very sleepy Melora inside. Their coats were dusted with snow as they moved toward the woodstove. Gently, Black Dog settled Melora on the couch in the office, cuddled into a nice warm blanket. The women opened the tins of cookies they’d spent hours making. The scent of Christmas cookies filled the air with a swirl of ginger, chocolate and cinnamon. Even the most grizzled, hardened bikers eagerly came forward to grab some.
Black Dog smiled at the sight and thought about what his little daughter told him over breakfast this morning:
Christmas cookies make the world a better place.
He hoped Melora was right. Things were pretty dismal at the moment. Many in the club were barely making ends meet and the people in the towns around them were hurting financially too.
That’s why Black Dog decided there was no better time than now to have a Christmas party for the club kids, which would also help out a few local families. It was good for the MC’s reputation to show the communities they cared, and Black Dog knew Nefarious needed that edge. Earlier in the fall, they had their run for toys. Money was better and the bikers were generous in buying toys. However, many children also needed coats and warm clothing. Some people asked for food so they could have a holiday dinner, and notes had been given to some bikers asking for Christmas trees as well. A few of the braver children even told a few of the bikers about the problems their families were having. Of course Black Dog couldn’t solve everyone’s problems, but he intended to help as many families as he could.
He grabbed a cookie and munched on it as he counted heads. It was a mandatory meeting but the unforgiving weather would likely keep those on motorcycles home. That was fine; he didn’t need any accidents happening on his watch, and enough of the members of this chapter had shown up already.
Mad Jack handed him a steaming mug of coffee and Black Dog frowned down at it.
“Relax, Dog. It’s Irish Coffee and I made sure that it’s got a good kick to it. I told everyone to stay sober, but I figured we’d keep this to ourselves.” Mad Jack’s eyes twinkled as he clinked his mug against Black Dog’s. “Dee and Willie are pretty damn worried about Christmas for some of the kids. The club kids are covered on my dime—toys and stuff like that—but it’s the food and coats I’m worried about. They want to do a coat collection. My ol’ lady doesn’t understand that some of the people are not going to want to help the poorer people in the beach towns. They set up some big boxes for canned food at a few supermarkets anyway.” Mad Jack looked over the other bikers, and frustration clouded his face. “I hope they don’t get disappointed. You’d think at Christmas people would want to give, but Willie said on the way here that even the churches refused to work with us.”
“Yeah, I know. Willie and Dee have big plans. Each night, I get to hear all about them. Willie’s determined to figure out some ‘Christmas magic’. She plans to raffle off paintings while Tears is talking about a winter festival. Fucking Darko … He takes off and leaves us this mess to deal with.” His voice rumbled from his huge chest as he sipped his coffee. “Where’s Thorn, by the way?”
“On his way here. Had some boats he had to check before the snow got worse.” Mad Jack leaned in, smirking. “You know, we got that new prospect Maynard. He used to work for that turkey farm—I can’t think of the fucking name. I know they raise turkeys and butcher them, freeze a shitload, then ship them out. My parents swear by that place. Huge turkeys … Best damn turkeys around here. Maybe we could … swipe a truckload of frozen turkeys? They send them all over the country.” Jack looked around for Maynard in the crowd.
Black Dog shot Mad Jack a look, then rolled his eyes. “Maynard is a complete idiot. I didn’t think he’d make it this far into the club. You’re talking about Old Coots Turkey Farm, right? Rona Coots is a mean old bitch. You’ve got that loony family to deal with if you mess with them. Bubba, Greg, Bradley … I forget how many others live on that farm. You really think Maynard can steal a truck of frozen turkeys from under their noses? Jack, you’re crazy!”
Mad Jack grinned. “If Maynard and Orson want to stay around, they’ll get us a truck of frozen turkeys or they’re
. By the way, I decided that Orson needs a name. I’m calling him Oreo. That fucker’s always stuffing his face full of them. If Maynard pulls this thing off, we can call him Turkey. He kinda has a gobbler hanging off his neck, don’t he?” Mad Jack’s laugh was infectious and Black Dog joined in until his eyes were tearing.
Finally, they both stopped laughing and Black Dog took a long look at Maynard. Damn, he really did look like a turkey with a long scrawny neck and a large Adam’s apple. He was balding and scruffy looking. Though he had skinny arms and was kind of short, he could fight like a motherfucker. Orson, on the other hand, was the man for hot wiring anything with an engine and wheels. He was also a lot smarter than Maynard and was just about ready to be patched in.
Black Dog stroked his chin, considering them. A truckload of frozen turkeys would take care of one of their problems easily. The Coots were rich and never donated a damn thing to the communities that bought from them faithfully year after year. If Maynard knew how they operated, this might be the perfect plan.
“Jackie boy, you thought of it. So if anything goes wrong, it’s all on you, bro! I don’t want to know a thing until you have a solid plan. If I think it can work, I’ll let you have a few guys. You’re on your own with Darko though if it goes bad.” Black Dog looked at Mad Jack very seriously.
“Dog, what the hell could go wrong? We got other brothers that have probably worked there. It’s one of the few places that does seasonal hiring in the winter. We might have ol’ ladies that worked there too. Shit, it’s an in-and-out kinda job. We get the truck before it heads out, hijack it, unload the turkeys on a side road, then dump the truck right on a path in the woods. Cops will be looking on the highways for a truck, and we’re all good.” Jack was grinning widely. “Shit, we could always drop the truck over by the Filthy Fiends’ clubhouse. It’s close to the Coots’ Farm anyway.”
“I told you, I don’t want to know about it until you’ve checked it all out, and don’t be talking about it. The less said, the better. The Coots’ have been known to set dogs on people and shoot at trespassers. You better be fast because Bubba Coots is a mean ass drunken son of a bitch. I heard Rona is likely to shoot before asking questions. I hope you’re thinking this one out.” Black Dog couldn’t help but think on all the things that could possibly go wrong.
Mad Jack slapped his back. “I got this, brother. One less thing to worry about. We’ll see if Maynard and
really want to get patched in. I see Melora is up and headed this way. She must want a piggyback ride from her favorite uncle.” With that, Mad Jack was gone, leaving Black Dog shaking his head at his SAA.