Strays (Red Kings #1) (3 page)

He took in her expression and cursed himself. “I know, Jackie, but it won't be like last time, I swear.” Her doubtful look had him backtracking. “It'll be a one time thing. You know we need the money.”

“Yeah, well there are other ways to get money! Legal ways.” Jackie stared at him incredulously, not believing that he would try to convince her to resort to stealing when he knew she hated it.

“Like what? I don't want to spend my life working for minimum wage in a shit job and living paycheck to paycheck.” He scoffed, shaking his head and sighing as he looked at her. “I can't do that. We need to think of something.”

She smiled softly at him and replied, “I know, we will.”

Tyler heaved out a long sigh and looked at her again. “Fine, it was just an idea. We'll think of another way to get some cash. Maybe we can win the lottery!” He tried to lighten up the mood, reveling in his success when she grinned.

“You have to actually play the lottery in order to win it.” She joked with him, knowing his hacking urge was satiated at least for the time being. “Besides, you're the most unlucky man I know. No way would you win anything.” He mock-glared at her, feeling relieved she wasn't upset with him. Jackie sighed, getting ready to go back to work. She squeezed his hand and then picked up the empty plate he'd all but licked clean.

“Just... just don't do anything stupid, okay?” She threw him another worried look and got up from the table; she had customers to serve, tables to clean and a paycheck to earn. Jackie just hoped that this all went well. She didn't like the thought of having to visit him in another jail or being thrown in one herself. That wasn't appealing to her at the moment, nor would it ever be.

So lost in their own troubles, Tyler and Jackie didn't notice the bikers at the nearby table sending each other curious looks. They'd heard enough to wonder if maybe he had some skills that would be useful to the club.

***

“Gimme your keys,” Tyler demanded as he waited impatiently for Jackie to lock the door to the diner. Her shift had ended uneventfully as the clock struck eleven. She cleaned quickly and they were out the door fifteen minutes later.

“Why in the world would I let you drive my truck?” The pair started their journey across the parking lot towards the light blue Ford that was in need of a new paint job. It was the only vehicle she could afford while she was working after school in Queens, but it had gotten them all the way to Georgia with no problems and it was still going strong. The heat didn't work most days, but that wasn't a necessity with the warm climate of the south.

Tyler grunted and rolled his eyes, slowing his pace for Jackie's sake. “I'm driving because-” he yanked the keys out of her unsuspecting hands, “-I'm older and therefore in charge. And I want to drive.”

Jackie smiled as she arrived at the passenger side of the truck, waiting for Tyler to get in and unlock her door. “You're only older by a few months, jerk.” She looked around the lot, her eyes landing on a single motorcycle sitting in a shadowy parking spot. Naturally assuming it was Tyler's beloved machine, she turned to him and asked, “Are you just going to leave your...” She trailed off, recalling his earlier statement about how long it took him to walk to the diner from the music store. Her breath left her as she realized one of the bikers from the other night was probably about to kill her for being a witness to their criminal activity. “Oh God...” was all of the warning she could get out before a large shadow appeared behind Tyler. Her eyes went wide with fright and she opened her mouth to scream, but one glare from the same eyes that had intimidated her into silence before made her snap her jaw shut.

Tyler turned around quickly, his eyes growing large at the sight of the fierce biker. “Y-you can take whatever you want, man,” he stuttered quickly, holding up his hands in surrender. “You want my wallet?”

The taller man's face remained hard and impassive, his cold eyes stuck to Tyler in a harsh glare. “I don't want your stuff.” The raspy sound startled the pair, the rumble chilling them straight to the bone. Jackie shuffled her feet nervously, the gravel in the lot crunching loudly as she shifted her weight. The dark eyes rapidly moved to stare her down and she stopped fidgeting in an attempt to not anger him further. Tyler turned his head to the girl on the other side of the truck, trying to signal her to run. The rough voice made him snap his attention back to the front. “I don't want your girlfriend either, relax.” The man placed a hand on top of the truck, looming over Tyler with a sick expression of amusement. “I hear you're a hacker.”

Tyler looked around nervously and swallowed, not expecting anything other than a typical mugging. “Wh-what? I don't know what you're talking about. Where'd you hear that?”

The outlaw's face quickly clouded with frustration and anger. It was obvious that he hated people who didn't tell him the truth. Jackie silently pleaded with Tyler to not upset this guy. She had seen exactly what happened to people who lied to him.

Dean grabbed the back of Tyler's neck and yanked the younger man forward. “I heard it from your big mouth earlier today. Wouldn't be surprised if the whole damn restaurant heard you two arguing about your illegal habits.” Tyler at least had the decency to look embarrassed at being so easily overheard. “Let's talk.”

3

December 19th

Ever since she was little, Jackie had tried her best to avoid awkward situations. She steered away from things she didn't know and went to familiar, comfortable places where she could blend in.

But here she was now in the middle of the Eastside Mechanics parking lot surrounded by bikers, sticking out like a red paint splatter on a white canvas.

This was the last place that she wanted to be at, but Tyler had dragged her along for moral support. That horrible night at the diner was the reason she was here, nervous and fidgeting like she did as a school kid in the principal's office.

As scared as he was then, Tyler couldn't imagine refusing the biker, so he obediently followed him away from the truck. The next day, he was hacking again, complying with every command the club gave him in order to prove himself worthy. He got comfortable with the outlaws, started to feel at home in the clubhouse, and constantly tried to make Jackie visit him. He even talked to her about joining the Red Kings MC, his desire to be an official part of the group fueled by a guy currently prospecting with them and the fragile friendship he had going on with his recruiter, who also happened to be the club's most notorious member.

The man in question was Dean Rockwell, a rude, no-good, arrogant man with an incredibly limited vocabulary in Jackie's opinion. He was a stereotypical biker – violent, tattooed, ill mannered, and angry. He had absolutely zero redeemable qualities that would make him a good person to have around.

Jackie managed to dodge Tyler's pleas for her to visit him at the clubhouse. She found all kinds of excuses and means of escape, going as far as feigning illness and taking extra shifts at work. But she couldn't say no to him forever and so today she found herself standing in front of a building next to the automotive garage that looked a little worse for wear.

She was not one to judge a book by its cover, but if the inside of this place looked as bad as the outside, she would have to reschedule with Tyler so she could go and get her shots before she went in. It was an old brick building that had definitely seen better days. All the bricks looked chipped and aged and the roof was a little crooked. There were three steps leading up to the door and the windows were each a slightly different size and shape. Some of them looked like they had been broken and replaced numerous times and the ones that didn’t had bars on them. Jackie wasn’t sure if she was at a clubhouse or a prison.  

When they got there, Tyler was as excited as a kid on Christmas morning. He dragged her around the place so fast that it made her head spin. The way he was doing things, she didn't have time to pay close attention to the people she was introduced to. All of the bikers looked the same to Jackie: huge, heavily tattooed, and scary as hell. She was never good with names, so she was thankful that some of them wore work shirts with name tags. That way she could go over them again once she got a chance to breathe. When Tyler's frantic tour was over, he told her to sit while he talked business. Before Jackie could say anything, he was deep in conversation with a bear of a man and she was left to look around aimlessly.

The main part of the clubhouse was a single, spacious room. To one side was a bar, at which she was currently seated. Beer bottles littered the place and the air was thick with cigarette smoke, making it hard for her to breathe. There were a couple of old tables spread about, a biker on his cellphone seated at one. A tattered leather couch and a couple of armchairs surrounded a wooden coffee table with magazines scattered on top.

A pool table, worn from use, blocked a set of wooden doors from the rest of the room, but Jackie didn't know where they led. On his tour, Tyler didn't go anywhere near them and neither did the other occupants of the clubhouse. Jackie imagined that they were locked, off limits to anyone outside of the club. She would even go as far as to guess that the rumored illegal activities were planned behind those closed doors.

A long corridor was to the left and she was told that the bathroom and a few bedrooms were in that direction. If Tyler became a prospect, he would probably spend most of his nights in one of the rooms and she would have the apartment all to herself, an idea she wasn't sure she liked very much. She would just have to visit him here at the clubhouse, which so far seemed like at least an okay place.

Jackie was brought back from her thoughts by a large hand landing on her shoulder. She jumped, her own hand flying to her heart. When she spun to the left, she was met by a man grinning in amusement.

“Easy there, lady.” He chuckled and she gave him a strained smile.

“You just startled me is all.”

“You want a beer?” He held one out to her and she looked at him more closely before she even considered taking the bottle. He was massive, with a huge neck and large arms. His form was made even bigger by the work shirt he wore, which was a little tight across his chest. The name tag on the shirt read 'Mack', which she thought fair – the man did resemble a Mack truck. His friendly blue eyes seemed an odd feature of the otherwise intimidating man. He had high cheekbones and a full, angular face. His light brown hair was cut close to his head and that, coupled with his clean shave, gave him a distinctive ex-military look.

He lightly shook the beer bottle to gain her attention. Jackie hesitantly reached for it and he flashed her a grin. She mumbled her thanks and took it from him, staring cautiously at the bottle as she wondered if it was safe to drink.

Tyler snickered at her expression as he sat down next to her. She turned to scoff at him, but her tirade was cut off by a loud giggle coming from the hallway which led to the private rooms. The three of them turned to the sound just as Dean came into view. Shirtless, with his arm wrapped around a ditzy blonde and a scowl on his face, he looked tired and unamused.

He escorted the flirty and nearly naked blonde to the door. With a long kiss and a squealed 'call me!', the girl was out of the clubhouse and the biker was making his way to the bar. He situated himself on a stool next to Tyler and took the beer that was passed his way. Mack chuckled as the man rested his head against the cool bottle.

“Long night?”

Dean groaned and took a swallow of his beer before looking up. “Bitch was a lousy fuck and couldn't give a blowjob for shit.”

“So you won't be calling her any time soon, huh?” Tyler piped up, which caused Dean to turn his head and glare at him.

Movement behind the younger man caused his gaze to fall directly on Jackie. Dean looked at her silently for a heartbeat, his eyes not straying from hers. “You're not gonna last long here,” he said gruffly, then stood up beer in hand and made his way to the pool table.

Jackie just watched after him, shocked. He had made her feel uneasy since the first time she laid her eyes on him, but now she flat-out didn't like him. Not only did he scare her to death, but he patronized her too. She looked to Tyler, who was giving her an apologetic smile. Sighing, she stared at her untouched beer. Maybe coming to the clubhouse to see him wouldn't be as easy as she thought after all.