The Run (The Hell's Disciples MC Book 4) (3 page)

“Safe travels,” he says, smirking over his shoulder as he walks to the door. Yeah, he’s a real funny motherfucker, that one.

“Sure, asshole.” Chucking my beer in the trash, I follow him out. Rock is standing outside, leaning against the wall. He too is looking at me with a smirk on his ugly mug.

“The fuck you smiling about, dick face?” If he thinks this shit’s so funny, he can ride with me. “Let’s see how goddamn happy you are after the ride up.”

“Oh no,” he says as that smile is wiped clean off his face. Poncho starts laughing too. Now I’m thinking two escorts will be nice.

“Oh yeah. Both of you funny fucks, grab your shit and let’s roll.”

1 - Roommates

Buck

The sun is dipping low over the Columbia, casting red and orange rays over the hills. It all looks magical as I ride down the windy highway.

The vibrant yellow dashes on the road zip by in a blur and the light whistle of the wind whipping by is the only noise heard above the growl of my bike. My hands are used to the violent vibration of the engine and my body is conditioned for the long trip, but I could never get tired of this shit, even if I’m not lookin’ forward to the reason behind the trip. I make it across the bridge and cross into Washington.

Two more fuckin’ hours.

Passing through small towns and farmlands, past rivers and lakes, I finally make it to my destination.

Pulling down the dirt road that leads to the Washington Chapters clubhouse, I round the corner and find a body waiting for me. Wasn’t expecting the welcome wagon.

Sitting on the cinderblock wall that surrounds the property is a pretty little thing, swinging her legs, waiting for me.

Fuck.

Diverting my eyes, I swing into the lot and pull up to the row of black hogs, all parked in a straight line out front of the building that houses the Disciples of Washington.

Flipping down the kickstand, I hop off and stretch. Lacing my fingers, I pop some blood back into them with each crack of my stiff knuckles. The white from my fingers start to fade and my skin starts to get its color back. The drive always starts out fun, but after about two hours, I start wishing I never started it. Freeway riding really isn’t my idea of a good time.

The big bay doors slide open. “Brother,” Tank booms, walking out of the garage. He grabs my hand and wraps an arm around my back, giving it a solid slap in a loud welcome.

“Buck,” Rampage nods, followed by Tags and Stitch.

It’s always good to see these assholes.

“You’re gettin’ fat, my man,” I tell Tank in my own special greeting. That old lady of his is feeding the motherfucker way too fucking much. Glaring over his shoulder at the smiling Lil sitting at a picnic table, he tells her, “Told your ass my jeans were gettin’ tight, babe.”

“Shut up, Tank,” Lil says, waving Tank off. “Hey Buck! Let me get her for you.” Lil grins like a fucking lunatic. What the fuck. I feel like I’m being set up or some shit with everyone smirking and grinning at me.

“Babe, calm your ass down,” Tank yells after her, but she’s across the lot, ignoring him. Tank is a special kind of stupid to be able to deal with that woman every damn day.

Shaking his head, Tank turns back to me. “How was the ride, any problems?”

“Nah, just long as fuck.” A little traffic and a bunch of stupid drivers really isn’t anything new. It’s all part of the territory.

“Shoulda shipped her ass in box then?” He jokes. “You crashin’ here tonight?” If only. I’d kill for a drink, warm shower, and some hot pussy, but there won’t be any of that. Tonight I’m hauling my ass all the way back home.

“I wish I was, brother, but I need to get back. I’ll need to be making the drive tonight.” Just thinking about it makes me so fucking tired.

“Fuck,” he mutters, shaking his head. Tank knows the drive. He’s done it before. It’s long, but it’s what I do; ride until the goddamn wheels fall off.

“Got my babysitting papers and I’m here to collect, but I gotta ask, what’s the deal with the broad?” I get down to business. I wish I had the time to stand around and just bullshit.

“Lil’s old friend from back in the day needs some place to chill out for a bit.”

“You know why I’m watching her?”

“Not a fuckin’ clue, but she’s your problem now,” he laughs. There’s nothing funny about that statement. For her sake, she better be on her best behavior with me.

“She been a problem?” That’s the last thing I need. I’m not a man for mouthy, bossy, mean as hell bitches. My tolerance for a woman’s bullshit is nonexistent these days.

“Nah, she’s cool.”

“You sure?” Rather know what I’ll be dealing with now before I make this fucking trip home with her ass.

“Yeah, she hasn’t been a problem.” Thank fuck for that.

Gravel crunches under someone’s feet behind me and I hear Lil laugh. Turning my head, I catch sight of the broad close up. I’m not looking at a photo and I’m not fifty feet away. No, this time it’s up close and fucking personal.

And she’s a goddamn pretty little thing with long, straight black hair. Big, dark eyes, a pert nose covered in freckles and a piercing, and full, red lips. She’s everything right about a woman and she’s standing in front of me, looking at me curiously, and it’s sexy as hell.

She’s fucking beautiful, and I’m not immune to it.

Shit.

Shoving past me, Poncho gets up in her face, effectively cutting my ass out of the picture.

“Hola, sexy,” he says as he sticks his hand out towards her. Apparently, no one is immune. She looks at Poncho like he’s fucking high. I would’ve just walked off, but I really wanna see how this plays out.

“What?” she asks, her voice is raspy and dark, sounding sexy as hell. She looks him up and down with an arched eyebrow.

“Hablas español?” Poncho tries again. What the fuck is he doing? Since when does the fucking moron speak Spanish?

“Umm...” She looks around for help. This poor girl is confused. If she wasn’t scared before, I’m sure she is now.

“You ain’t Mexican?” Poncho’s the confused one now.

She lifts her juicy lips into a little smile. “Indian,” she corrects him, laughing softly to herself.

“Like the kind with that shit on their foreheads?” Poncho asks, shoving a thumb into his forehead. You have got to be shitting me. Why the fuck did I bring him?

“No, like the kind that’ll remove your dick with a tomahawk,” she tells him casually with a wink. Poncho’s frowning and rubbing at the back of his neck, confused as hell. I swear to fuck he was dropped on his big ass head as a baby.

Looking at Lil, and back at Poncho, the broad throws her thumb towards him and whispers loudly, “Please tell me this isn’t Buck.” Luckily for her he isn’t.

“Idiot,” Lil chuckles, smacking Poncho’s back as she shoves him aside. I don’t know if I should be embarrassed that he’s with me, or if I should be happy that he made an ass of himself. At least the girls are enjoying this.

“No, that man right there is Buck.” Lil nods towards me and I swear to Christ, time slows to a crawl. The broad is giving me her full attention now. Tilting her head to one side, she studies me, sizing me up, and she doesn’t even try to hide it. She takes her time looking me up and down, and nods once.

“Cool.” Cool?

Stepping up to me, she sticks out her hand out. Her elbow to wrist bracelets clank together―some metal, some beaded. They’re a mess on her tan, tattooed skin.

“I’m Lennon,” she says. I take her tiny hand in mine because I just don’t have it in me to be a complete fucking asshole to her ... not yet, anyways. 

“Buck. I’ll be your roomie,” I tell her. I don’t have the slightest idea what else to say, but she smiles, apparently satisfied with my response.

“Roomie,” she confirms. This shit fucking sucks, but damn. At least she’s fine to look at.

I end up having a quick drink and get the rundown on what’s been going on around here. I make quick work of catching up with some of the brothers and relax for a bit, but now it’s time to go. I’ve still got a lot of ground to cover to make it home.

“Gotta get back on the road, boys. See ya in a couple weeks?” I ask Tank as we both stand.

“Yeah, we’ll be there.” Good, we’ll have plenty of time to bullshit then.

Lennon’s hanging close to Lil, looking a little unsure of me. I’m sure she’s scared shitless, being carted off by a stranger to a different state. Can’t blame her, but according to Tank, she wants to go somewhere and make a fresh start. I have no idea why, and neither does he, but it’s a favor for Lil. I can understand the feeling of wanting to start over somewhere new, I suppose, so I may as well get this show on the road before she changes her mind and I get pissed for making a trip all the way here for nothing.

“Come on, darlin’, gotta roll.” She turns to Lil and hugs her tight, like it’s the last time she’ll be seeing her. If she’s in need of a hug, I’m sure Poncho will be happy to accommodate her.

They do that whispering shit; talking close, looking at me and whispering. It’s like that gossipy shit bitches like to do. They’re talking about me, but I’m too tired to fucking care.

Letting her go, Lil looks at me and back to Lennon. “Don’t worry, honey. Buck’s a good guy most of the time.” They hug again and I’ve run out of patience.

“Stop fussin’ over her, Lil. She’ll be fine.” I wave Lennon on. She’ll see Sis here in a week or so. It’s not like I’m here to tear her away from her happy little family or some shit. This was her choice. “You’re gonna see Sis again soon,” I assure her.

Lennon gives me her crazy eyes as she turns and marches off, clearly annoyed by my demand. I follow after her, down the back towards the room she’s been staying in. Don’t want her getting distracted.

“Get your shit,” I tell her, nodding at the door she’s standing in front of, shifting around uneasily. What the fuck is her problem? “You gotta pee, baby?” I tease her as she starts twitching the closer I get to her.

Scrunching up her face, she growls at me ... growls. I almost fucking laugh at the cute little noise that comes out of her pretty little mouth.

“Jesus, dick much?” She grumbles, rolling her eyes.

“Best you learn that now. This dick wants you to hurry your sweet ass up,” I tell her, slapping her ass. My hand connects with plump skin and I fight the urge to squeeze it hard. Glancing over her shoulder, she cocks a daring brow at me and smirks.

“You’re forward.”

“You were taking to goddamn long, darlin’.” She purses her lips and turns towards the door. Yeah, definitely not scared.

Muttering something under hear breath that sounds like fucker, she disappears inside the room, slamming the door and locking it behind her.

I’m not sure what the hell I’m supposed to do with this broad. Never been real good at the whole people thing. Most women hate me once they get to know me. My bitch of an ex hated me so much she would have gutted me if she’d had the chance.

I tried, but I’m really not that guy. I’m not good at keeping bitches happy. Hell, that goes for most people in general.

Like most of the guys in the MC, we aren’t the people pleasing type. That’s why we’re here living like modern day outlaws; avoiding the masses, living our lives on the outskirts of normal life. We’re just not very good functioning at what’s considered ‘normal societies’ level.

Lennon unlocks and pulls the door open, dropping her bags at my feet. She changed into some short fucking jean shorts. It’s hot, but it isn’t that fucking hot. If she wants to freeze to death on the back of my bike, then that’s her deal.

“That it, darlin’?”

“Surprised?” she asks. I sure the fuck am. I was expecting a wardrobe and the whole shebang. One medium-sized duffle and a hatbox was not what I pictured myself lugging down the highway ... wait, a hat box ... really?

“You like hats or something?” I ask, nudging the box with my foot. Lennon doesn’t strike me as a hat wearing kinda broad, but then again, what the fuck do I know about her?

“What?” she snaps defensively, jerking the strap of her frilly purse back over her shoulder.

“You wear hats?” I ask, kicking the box towards her.

“No, but I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t kick my stuff.”

“Yeah, no problem, just hand me the bag.” Picking it up, she shoves the fucker into my gut. Such a mean little broad. 

I throw it over my shoulder and head in the direction of my bike. Once outside, I catch Lennon staring at it, a look of longing on her face. She likes the bike, which is no surprise. There’s something about the black shiny metal and big engine that gets the ladies all riled up and shit.

“You good to ride?”

“Umm...”

She hesitates. Six seconds ago she was looking like she couldn’t wait to ride, but now she looks nervous.

“You riding or not?” I snap. I’m not in the mood for this shit. I’m either riding home, with or without her, or I’m heading back into the clubhouse to get wasted.

“Do you?” She smarts back as she absentmindedly digs around in her bag, looking for God knows what. Well, I sure the hell didn’t run here.

“Do I ride?” She closes her eyes when she realizes what she’s said.