Revved Up Soul: A MC Romance (10 page)

Allen slammed his fist against the table as if it were a gavel. “Dismissed,” he declared authoritatively.

The men collectively got up from their chairs and made their way from the Knights Round and through the door, leading to the bar and lounge. The lounge was an impressive sight. The floors were decked with fine wood of all kinds, some polished with a nice sheen while others were dull and aged – giving the place a unique, if not mismatched kind of beauty. Two pool tables sat on either end of the room with a half crescent, black leather couch that sat in the middle, atop an old Persian rug of vivid reds and lustrous gold.

The bar itself was beyond well stocked – if you could think of a hard liquor, the house surely had it. The counter was black with gold trim and it was spacious enough to fit well over a dozen people. One TV was mounted from the ceiling while another was facing the crescent couch.

Luke’s favorite piece of furniture was of course the old jukebox that Allen’s father had left the boys before he passed. It had, and played, everything from hard rock to smooth jazz to the sweetest country – it made sure that the nights were never quiet and never dull.

The club itself had several guest rooms and was tucked away deep within the woods, which was both beneficial to the club’s secrecy and its defense. Not that anyone had ever been dumb enough to have raided it since Luke was just a boy.

With a buzz, he could feel his phone vibrating again – he produced it from his pocket as he walked past the bar. Kayla again, Jesus Christ. Placing it to his ear, he tried to contain his annoyance. “Speak.”

“Hey baby,” Kayla’s voice was soft and sultry, “when are you getting home?” Try never.

“Can’t say when,” he replied, eyeing the tequila on the shelf as he strode by.

Robert caught up to him.

He could hear Kayla sigh on the other end. “Okay,” she said, both defeated and pissed at the same damn time. That woman was more trouble than she was worth, but she was well ingrained into The Life – her father, J.D, was one of the few remaining original members of the Knights. “Just make sure you actually come home, baby – you know your kitten misses you,” she went and did that stupid thing where she pretends that she’s a cat.

His mind went to Jasmine. His senses lit up, a ball of need forming just behind his cock – he could practically smell her, the sweet scent of rain filling his nostrils. Was it wrong that he wanted to taste her? That he wanted to be inside of her?

“Baby,” Kayla whined. “Are you even paying attention?”

“Yeah,” he snapped back to reality, “look I’ll be home I just have shit that needs to be done, so lay off. I’ll call you later,” he clicked the phone off and shook his head.

Robert gave that stupid smirk, “Still banging Rochester’s girl eh? Man you two been at it forever now.”

“Yes,” he replied in a curt manner. “Wait here and I’ll get the stash, don’t move,” Luke ordered.

Robert lifted his hands and wagged them jazzily. “Heil Hitler,” he remarked.

Luke made his way into his guest room, grabbing the crowbar beneath his bed and finding the marked board. It had a single line cut across the end corner, it wasn’t a perfect system but he couldn’t figure that most people would pick up on that little tell. He jammed the crowbar into the board and propped it open, revealing the bag of Oxycottons beneath.

Running drugs was one of the club’s revenue streams, not one of Luke’s favorites but honestly it beat smuggling guns. That was one thing he couldn’t stand.

His mind meandered to his brother. Able couldn’t sleep at night when we were gun running, he remembered.

Luke picked up the bag, feeling a difference in its weight already. He eye balled it just to be sure. A wave of heat moved through his body like a breeze, two hot points forming at his temples and a hand clutching at his chest. Son of a bitch, that’s not right – not even remotely close. He strode over to his dresser and stuffed the bag inside of a black pack, zipping it closed and slinging it over his shoulder; he then opened one of the drawers and put on his gloves and riding shades, making sure to grab his helmet on the way out. The Vice Prez had a bad habit with pills, and despite how annoying and inconvenient it was – Luke had let it slide for a while considering he was only skimming off of the top. But to have this much gone? That fool was dealing, and the club wasn’t getting a cut.

When Luke returned to the lounge Robert was there, leaning against the wall impatiently; he turned his head and the lines of his face turned something nervous when he undoubtedly saw the fury in Luke’s eyes.

Robert swallowed and tensed up, “Y-yo hang on I can explain.”

No, no you can’t. Luke glanced over at the bar where Gabriel and Allen were sitting, discussing something and drinking a beer; they turned to look at Robert and Luke. He didn’t know where Alex was, but it didn’t matter. For once, someone was going to humble that kid – guess since nobody else has the balls I’ll be the first.

His sails filled by the winds of wrath, Luke made a single, deadly quick motion against the man. Luke threw down his helmet at the VP’s feet and grabbed the man by his collar, shoving him up against the wall.

Luke could feel the men burning holes into his skull, one of them calling out his name – they were just noise to him. The only thing that mattered was what was shaking in his hands. “I’m getting really fucking sick of your shit,” he snarled, slamming the vice into the wall – feeling his bones rattle as he did so.

“Christ Luke!” Robert cried out, trying to worm his way free. “What’s wrong with you?” That sly grin was on the man’s face, that stupid smile that Luke hated so damn much.

Allen practically roared behind Luke, “Get the hell off of him.”

That fiery serpent at the base of Luke’s spine only grew hotter at the words, climbing up his back and spurring his hands to press against the fool of a man even harder. Allen should be ashamed of you, I should just tell them all right now what you’re doing – Able always knew what you were you piece of dog shit. He leaned in to Robert’s ear.

Robert spoke first, “You’re such a pussy,” he hissed beneath his breath. “Come on,” he taunted, “hit me.”

“Yeah? Daddy doesn’t know you deal
our
shit on the side – he doesn’t even know you get high you little prick. How is beyond me.”

Robert let out a quiet, dry and short lived laugh, “You’re both stupid but he really takes the cake,” he admitted freely. “You know Dad, too busy with himself to be busy with us.”

“If it were me I’d kick your teeth in,” Luke pushed the man up against the wall.

Smiling, there was something dead in Robert’s eyes, something cold and cruel and long in waiting, “Your—“

Luke felt the hands on his back before he was yanked backwards and off of the man, causing Robert to fall back on his feet and steady himself. Next was Allen’s arm around Luke’s neck and Gabriel’s hands around his waist.

Robert played up the sympathy card, “I don’t know what the hell got in to him,” he said in that tinny boy of a voice of his.

Allen said, “Calm down.”

Find your inner peace, “I’m good,” he breathed, “I’m good.”

Gabriel and Allen eased their respective grips, but did not fully let go.

Robert pulled on his jacket and looked Luke in the eyes. “Is it because of your brother?” He inquired, “you know,” he started in that condescending tone, “he really wouldn’t have wanted to see you act like that.”

The rage came hot and quick all over again, and Gabriel and Allen felt it first hand as they desperately tried to hold Luke back. He didn’t care that he was playing into the man’s hand. Everything went red and every muscle in his body was screaming to break free, every bone begging to feel the crunch of Robert’s own against Luke’s knuckles. His agony in that moment would have been the sweetest music. Luke shouted in a fit of tempestuous anger, ripping himself from Gabriel’s clutches – but it did not last, the man quickly redoubled his efforts and restrained Luke.

Gabriel grunted, “Luke,” he said, “stop.”

Allen said, “Stop this shit right now and tell me what’s going on son, let’s not make things worse okay?”

After several moments, considering Gabriel’s words, he closed his eyes and thought of Jasmine’s demure emeralds. Through bared teeth, he apologized – not looking Robert in the eyes. “I’m sorry,” he took a deep breath. It took every fiber of his being to say it, “you were right, I just got worked up from earlier and I thought you said something about Able . . .”

The two let Luke free and Robert nodded his head. “It’s okay, Luke,” he put a hand on the man’s shoulder. It made him ill, just the feeling of it resting on him like that – all he could think about was scrubbing it clean and ridding himself of the filth that was the president’s son. “I forgive you.”

Luke felt a tightness form in his throat. He wanted to scream when he looked into those dead eyes. “Thanks,” he said, trying not to sound fake.

Allen looked over to Gabriel, then to Luke. “Don’t pull that shit again,” he warned, pointing a finger at the man. “Next time there’ll be hell to pay, you hear me?”

Grumbling, Luke nodded, “Yeah, I hear you.”

***

When it was just Luke and Robert outside of the club, the two of them approaching their bikes, Luke could barely restrain the anger in his bones. The president might be pissed if Luke told him just what his son was doing, but it also might blow over – better to hold onto those cards for later, he concluded, slipping onto his bike.

Robert flashed that greasy smirk, his lips looking like cracked worms slithering against one another. “Put your hands one me like that again, I dare you,” he challenged, placing his riding goggles over his eyes.

Luke strapped on his helmet, not looking the man in the eye a flash of dark adrenaline surging through his person. Earl was going to need a good chunk more of those Oxycottons by the end of the day; he tossed the black pack over to the vice. “Not a single one of those goes missing, got it?” Fury dripped from tongue freely, “I’m already going to have to get creative because of your stupid ass.” Now he was going to have to run back to St. Augustine and see what could be done.

“Sorry
chief
,” Robert placed the bag in the back of his ride, “here I thought you were still cool, guess you showed your real colors today huh?”

Next time I’ll beat the teeth out of you. Selfish prick.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Jasmine

Things didn’t feel okay. Jasmine’s mind lingered on Luke – occasionally drifting to when he was in her shower.

Stark
naked. His muscles flowing with his every motion, standing half a man and half a god. Heat curled against her abdomen and tightness formed wonderfully between her legs. You should have gotten his real number instead of that burner, she chided. Jasmine had the pleasure of training one of her residents today, Jessica Park; it was always a challenge to try and teach the newbies the ropes, but someone had to do it. The tune of Carry On My Wayward son resounded throughout her mind, as she’d listened to it on the way to the hospital – she had burned it onto one of the CD’s she made for Alejandra. I really hope she likes it.

She was part of the way through her shift and walking the lobby of the main floor when she saw a familiar face make its way through those large glass doors. Jasmine’s insides smiled and she could feel the corner of her mouth twisting into a playful smirk.

Augustus Lark sauntered on past the small contingents of patients and their friends, his silvery wine-colored curls had a peculiar glimmer to them when the light hit them just right. She saw something though, something out of the norm in those foxlike green eyes. Something was wrong.

She called out to him, placing a hand on her hip, “What’s crackin’ big A,” she knew that he hated when she called him that. There were fine beads of sweat on the man’s forehead.

He shifted his head to look over at her; the lines of his face did not form to the usual wise cracking that Jasmine had become accustom to. “Still not acknowledging that mysterious pest of a voice,” he japed – but instead of playfulness behind it, this time it was sharp and decidedly pointed.

Jasmine stepped over to stop him from moving past her and in turn the man tried to juke her, but she quickly countered with a slide of her own.

“Oh come on now,” Augustus screwed up his face, “I don’t have time for this Debbie.” He scratched against his arm, his fingers digging against the sleeve of his white coat.

“Not until you tell me what’s up,” Jasmine interrogated.

The man’s mood instantly changed, his brows raising high and his smile beaming bright, “What’s up my uh, lovely little ladybug,” he pressed his index and middle finger against Jasmine’s forehead, sending her an inch back in retreat. Damn him. “Isss,” his eyes went up and to the left, and then his shoulders slowly rose before falling down – his eyes moving back to Jasmine, “I’ve just run out,” he confessed.

What was he getting at? Jasmine gave him a quizzical look.

Augustus’ lips pressed tightly together, he picked up an imaginary cup of sorts and turned it over, making a gesture that he was trying to pour something out. He furrowed his brows, a curious look forming on his face as he searched the invisible cup. He threw his head back and shook his head, sighing. “I’m just out of them,” he announced loudly and proudly not just to Jasmine but to anyone in a fifty foot radius, his voice began to rise into an exaggerated crescendo. “I’m out of fucks to give and my day’s only juh-hust started.”