Scarred Asphalt (15 page)

She stared at Dalton like he had grown two heads. How
fucking dare he treat her like he owned her! She wasn’t a piece of meat. “Let
me go!”

That didn’t go as planned. She screamed in surprise as
Dalton swung her up like a rag doll and threw her over his shoulder. “I fucking
said to get in the truck and I meant it. You do not want to step in that,
Thorne.”

“Put me the fuck down! Now!” Thorne yelled at him, trying to
wiggle her way free, even landing a few good kidney punches along the way.

“I do not want my fucking eye dotted because the girl I
brought to family dinner didn’t know when to keep her damn trap shut. Now quit
fucking trying to get free.”

Eye dotted? What the hell was he talking about? She was
about to ask when she was flipped over and tossed into the passenger seat of
the Blazer and buckled in. She could feel her blood pressure going through the
roof as Dalton jumped into the SUV and got it in motion, rolling out of the
parking lot as quickly as he could, without hitting any stray motorcycle parts
in the process.

“How could you just stand there and let Axe hit that poor
kid?”

“You’re fucking kidding me, right?” He glanced at her then
back to the road. “That so called poor kid was supposed to be watching the
bikes. He failed at it. He was punished for it.”

“How do you figure? He’s not some super hero, Dalton. He
can’t jump building in a single bound or stop a speeding bullet. What the hell
do you expect him to do?” Were these men
that
caveman that they beat
each other up over stupid shit?

“You saw what Zack did. He ran after the truck and
tried
to stop them. Knucklehead stood there and let a fellow brother get a beat down.
You have a lot to learn about this life, Thorne. But for God’s sake, do not
open your mouth in those types of situations. You will get my ass in trouble.”

Thorne shook her head, not able to understand why it was so
important that the prospect put his life in danger over materialistic things.
“That is so stupid.”

“What is stupid?” He pulled into the driveway and turned off
the ignition, then turned toward her.

Thorne ignored Dalton turning toward her, unbuckled herself,
then opened up the door and slid out of the truck. “He could have been killed
by some thugs over a bike that can be replaced with insurance claims.”

The door slammed behind her and she stomped toward the front
door, not caring if he was following her or not. His actions tonight had her on
edge and she wasn’t so sure she liked this side of Dalton, or wanted to be
around it.

“Thorne, would you please just stop with your high society
ideas and bring yourself down to my dirty biker level and fucking clean your
ears out and listen?”

It was instinct; no thought went through her mind when she
did it, pure reflex. She spun around, open palmed and swung to smack Dalton
across the face. She never made it. He caught her wrist before it made contact,
his eyes narrowed dangerously as he snarled at her.

“Truth fucking hurts, don’t it? Get inside and let me
explain some things to you before you pass judgement on shit you know nothing
about.”

All she could do was nod and swallow hard. She half expected
to get hit in return, though she wasn’t sure why she thought that. He was
always gentle with her and had very good reasons for doing what he did, but
seeing how the prospect was treated had pushed her over the edge.

“Thank you.” He pushed open the front door and his hand
nudged her to get inside.

Going right for the living room, she flopped down on the
couch and stared up at him expectantly. “Get to explaining. I want to know why
Prospect…” she couldn’t remember his name for the life of her. Oh yeah. “Why
Prospect Knucklehead got hit.”

“First off, he is not a prospect to you. He is simply
Knucklehead. The club is a man’s world. The woman has no part in it, other than
to support her man and look good sitting bitch.”

Thorne balked at the way he was explaining the lifestyle he
proudly lived, unable to comprehend how in God’s name her sister let these men
walk all over her.

“Nuhuh, don’t say a word until I’m through. I’m going to explain
this shit to you, but in a way that is dumbed down and raw. That is the only
way I know how to get through to you right now. Prospects are low man on the
totem pole. They show their worth and loyalty by helping out with things they
do for the club on a daily basis, and they also learn situational awareness
about things that normal civilians would never think of. If shit goes down and
your brother isn’t there to back you up? Why be in the club? It’s a test to see
how loyal they are and to what extreme’s they will go to make sure their family
is kept safe. I break down on the side of the road and pick up my cell phone?
Every one of those men will be there for me, and if they can’t? They will call
someone who will be.

“The women are sacred to us men. They aren’t treated badly.”
He held up his hand and shook his head. “I said no speaking until I’m done.
Yes, there are a few bad seeds. There always are, in anything you go into. If
the woman sticks her nose into club business, the man gets in trouble. Not the
woman. If you would have said something wrong, I would have been held
accountable and my eye would have been dotted and I wouldn’t fight back. If I
did, it would earn a worse beat down, and I might lose my patches and be out
bad.”

“Eye dotted, out bad? I’m not following any of this,
Dalton.” She was trying, she really was, but this might be a little over her
head. Thorne lifted her fingers to rub her temples and sighed. “I’m trying, I
really am, but…” She shrugged and dropped her hands to her lap.

“I’ll get decked like Knucklehead did. It’s called eye
dotting. If I am turned out bad, that means that this.” Dalton moved his arm to
show her the brand that she noticed several other men sported. “This will be
taken off my body in whatever way they deem fit. I will be cast out of a family
that is loving and caring and would die to protect what belongs to them. I
would lay my life down for any one of my brothers without hesitating. They
would do the same for me. Knucklehead didn’t display that tonight. Zack did. He
put himself in harm’s way to try and save a brother’s scooter. That says a
lot.”

Well, if he was going to put it like that.

Thorne nodded, a leg tucked under her other one as she lay
slightly back against the arm of the couch. “It’s a lot to swallow. A lot I
don’t understand, Dalton.”

“You will over time, I promise. This club made a vow to take
care of you because of what Demon did and because they all loved Maggie. You’re
family whether you like it or not, and well, you’re shit out of luck because
your uncle is in it, so you are family anyway.”

“I don’t need to be taken care of, Dalton. I am a big girl
and can take care of myself. I’ve been doing it for a while now.” She pushed
off the couch, ready to lie down and try to straighten out everything that happened
tonight in her head. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Chapter Twenty

Romeo had stopped by to see Apollo and discuss what had
happened the previous night. They talked quietly. Thorne had the late shift
that night, so she was trying to sleep and neither male was brave enough to
interrupt her beauty sleep.

Apollo explained in detail of the events that transpired
with the TG and the prospects, right down to Axe decking the prospect for being
a dumb ass and not doing his job.

Needless to say, Romeo was not Mister Sunshine and
Butterflies when he got to the clubhouse for the impromptu church meeting.
Every patch holder was present, except for Saber, due to his shift with Thorne
on the meat wagon. The prospect in question, Knucklehead, was outside waiting
for the verdict on just what was going to happen to him.

On top of worrying about how the fuck he was going to take
care of a teenager, now Romeo had to protect her from the big bad world of
outlaw bikers. Especially the likes of the bike thieving TGMC. He got maybe an
hour’s worth of sleep the night before, thinking of the many ways he wanted to
hurt Maggie if she was alive. What she did was unforgivable. He may have been
young and dumb, but no one gave him the chance to see if he’d man up and grow a
set, or tell her to fuck off and deal.

He was walking on eggshells in his own home now. He couldn’t
even walk around naked if he wanted to, or piss off the front porch. And no
more bringing the ladies home. That just went out the window, though he rarely,
if ever, did anyway. This was his sanctuary, not a whore house. His mother had
lived here and he respected her memory if nothing else. Romeo wasn’t even sure
what to say to her. It was small talk right now, both trying to figure one
another out.

Hell, he had walked by her room, which had been Amy’s, and
thought he heard her crying. Talk about feeling completely helpless. Romeo had
no clue how to approach her or help her, or if he should even interfere. He
stood at her door for over twenty minutes debating the pros and cons of
knocking on her door. Her snore solved that little issue real quick like.

Now, here he was sitting at the head of the table, feeling
guilty because he had left Shiloh at the house alone. Was she alright? Did she
know how to cook? Would she answer the door to a complete stranger? She did
know how to dial 911, right? Fuck, he forgot to ask.

Time to focus.

“Alright, everyone is here but Saber, due to conflicting
schedules with work. He has been excused by the council. And Apollo, but he’s already
been talked to; I have his verdict. We have some serious shit to cover tonight,
so no fucking around.” Romeo looked at all of the pissed off faces looking back
at him. Yeah, he would hate to be that prospect right now. “First order of
business. What happened last night. Zacky-boy is currently in a cast and is
wearing some serious fucking bruises from trying to stop those fuckers from
taking the bikes. Knucklehead? The only fucking bruise he has is the one Axe
gave him.”

Wolf moved his head in agreement with Romeo as he sank back
into his chair. “He didn’t show any gumption to help his future brother, or to
protect the bikes as if they were his own. He could have helped out Zack and
maybe caught the pussy who whipped Zack with the flashlight.”

Talon grunted; his hand cracked his knuckles as he spoke.
“Personally, the prospect is fucking lucky Axe didn’t lose his shit and kept
his cool and only hit his ass once. If it had been my bike, the fucker wouldn’t
have left the parking lot alive.”

“The police are being cooperative right now and have
statements from everyone, along with the VIN numbers and what not.” Romeo
sighed, his hands folded over in front of him on the table. “It’s not like they
won’t find the bikes soon. I am making a motion to have Prospect SixGun
Knucklehead turn in his vest and walk.”

Several brothers “here-here’d” and a few others angrily said
to give a better punishment. Romeo shook his head and held up a hand to quiet
everyone down.

“I wasn’t done. I am also making a motion that he also get
his eye dotted. Twelve times. One for each bike he failed to protect, one for
each truck, one for each Mexican he let hook up to the bike, one for the pussy
who gave Zacky-boy his beat down, and one for Zacky-boy since he didn’t go and
help his brother-in-arms when he needed it the most. Technically, it’ll be
thirteen, since he already got one from Axe on scene.”

There were happy faces at the idea of watching someone take
twelve hits, then having to leave and never look back.

“All in favor?”

That was a dumb question.

“Since our sergeant at arms is unable to perform his duty at
this time, the council must elect someone to take his position. Wolf?”

Wolf quirked a brow at Romeo, the slightest of smirks
appearing across his face.

“Nevermind. I want the fucker to live. He just needs to know
how bad he fucked up.”

Wolf grinned, well, a wolfish grin and shrugged almost
coyly. “My bad. I nominate Wraith do the dotting and Hawkeye to guard. They
were their bikes, too, and Axe got his one lick in already.”

Wraith lifted his head up in surprise and nodded, the
near-yellow eyes hidden by the flat brim cap he was wearing. “Thanks, man.”

“Talon?” Romeo looked over to the secretary.

“Agreed.”

“Mace?”

Once he agreed, he turned to the men and slammed the gavel
down. “Motion passed. Now, before the games begin, we need to discuss
retaliation. I was all about keeping the peace up to this point.”

“Burn their clubhouse down!”

“Just fucking kill Muerte and be done with it!”

“Go old school and have Saber and Trouble face off.”

Ideas were being thrown left and right on exactly what
should be done to the rival club, all the way down to skinning them alive and
letting the seagulls peck their eyes out.

Romeo lifted his hands, motioning up and down with them to
get the riled up men calm once more. “I’m thinking we need to turn it around on
them. They want to be childish, they’ll get spanked, but the SixGun way. We’ll
handle it like the old times. Maybe my idea will get the message across to them
that we mean business. They want to be horse thieves? We’ll show them how we
treat chicken shits like them.”

That got a round of applause. Romeo grinned and kicked his
feet out in front of him. “Bring in the prospect.”

Mace was the closest to the door, so he got up and opened
it. “Yo, prospect. Get your ass in here.”

Knucklehead stepped in, fear written clear as day all over
his face, which is how it should be. He stepped to the side, allowing Mace to
close the door once more.

“What have you got to say for yourself, prospect?” Romeo
stared right into the frightened kid’s eyes, daring him to say the wrong thing.

“I, uhm…” He coughed into his hand, shifting his weight
nervously. “I don’t have anything to say, sir.”

Romeo couldn’t believe this idiot. Why the fuck had he
agreed to let him prospect? Oh yeah, cause the kid had been around since he was
in his teens as a shop hand. “You have nothing to say at all?”

“What I did was wrong. There’s no excuse for it.”

Romeo scoffed with a slight grunt of laughter. “Ya think?
You let four men, who were not SixGuns, take your brother’s bikes without so
much as a yell. Or running inside to warn them that Zack, your prospect
brother, was trying to take them all on, to protect what he was told to. You
stood there and watched your prospect brother, your future club brother, get
beaten and didn’t try to stop the fucker doing it. We have taken a vote and it
was unanimous. You will take your punishment like a man. Wraith. Hawkeye.”

Both men stood up, Hawkeye moved around behind Knucklehead
in case he decided to run. The kid had broken out into a full blown sweat,
glancing erratically at both men then back to Romeo.

“You will stand there and Wraith will dot you twelve times.
Five for the bikes, three for the Mexicans who hooked up to the bikes, two for
the trucks who took the bikes, one for the piece of shit who beat Zack, and
last but not least, one for Zack.”

Knucklehead gulped, but nodded as he backed up slightly,
away from the table as Wraith moved toward him.

“Put your hands behind your back.” Wraith growled out, his
head tilted from one side to the other as if he was loosening up.

The kid did as he was told, the blood drained from his face
as he saw the size of Wraith’s fist as he pulled back for the first hit.

Yeah, this was going to be bad.

The first hit nearly knocked the prospect, but Hawkeye
caught him and stood him back up, then nodded to Wraith to keep going.

Romeo grimaced slightly. Wraith was enjoying this a bit too
much as he swung like he was hitting a home run. Each time Wraith made contact,
Romeo swore he saw the kid lift off his feet a few inches. By the sixth hit,
the kid was laid out.

“Wake his ass up, he’s not done.” Romeo ordered.

Talon started to pass Hawkeye his beer then thought better
of it. “That’d be alcohol abuse. Hold up.” He got up and ran out to the fridge
behind the bar, then jogged back in handing off a bottle of water.

Hawkeye opened the bottle and poured it over Knucklehead’s
swollen face. “Wake up.”

Knucklehead gasped, instinct overriding good sense, an arm
swung out in defense.

“I don’t fucking think so.” Hawkeye grabbed him into a
headlock, growling at him. “Calm the fuck down.”

He nodded, accepting the assistance to stand up and take the
rest of his beating.

After the last strike was delivered, Knucklehead swayed on
his feet, eyes nearly swollen shut, lips split open, with what looked like a
broken nose. Romeo stretched and yawned.

“Well, now that that’s over, remove your cut.”

The prospect paused, looking between all of the members then
back to Romeo as if he didn’t hear him right.

“I didn’t stutter, boy. Remove the cut. You are not SixGun
material. This life is not for you.”

Tears filled the kid’s eyes, though Romeo couldn’t tell if
it was from the pain of the fist that pommeled his ass, or if it was the
humiliation of failing at being a prospect. The boy did as asked, and handed
the cut over to Mace.

“Escort him off the premises.” Romeo looked to Hawkeye, then
focused on everyone else. “We meet tomorrow night at six. Be here, ready to
rumble. Wear black, no cuts. Dismissed.”

Romeo arose from his chair and glanced at his watch. He’d
been gone for over two hours. He needed to get home to make sure she was
alright.

Christ, was he always going to worry like this?