A LIL' LESS LOST (The Kingsmen Book 2) (2 page)

I pulled my truck onto the main lawn, causing more than one kid to have to jump out of the way. Tiny and I hustled into the large house and pushed our way through the crowd of drunken coeds. Loud music pumped through the space and the stale air stunk of beer, cheap weed, and Cheetos. I pulled the first frat boy looking kid I could find and threw him up against the wall.

“Bathroom! Where's your fucking bathroom?” I screamed out to be heard over the music. Not a bad way to make an entrance. We had already garnered most everyone's attention, obviously out of place. Our leather biker vests didn't exactly fit in with this J.Crew crowd.

The kid couldn't have been more than twenty years old, and was inebriated. He pointed to a small hallway lined with doors. I dropped him, leaving him to collapse on his less-than-sturdy sea legs.

The crowd cleared a path for us, with no one wanting to be the next victim. Tiny opened the first door, which turned out to be a pantry. The blond tramp on her knees nearly bit down on the cock in her mouth from shock at the sudden audience, leaving the guy in front of her to gasp and push her head away. Tiny and I both looked at each other. Fuck. That's gonna leave a mark. He slammed the door shut.

The next door was locked when I tried the handle. I banged on the door. “Christine?! You in there?”

The door knob jolted a little and the door opened inward. Christine looked relieved to see us, and stepped forward. “Oh, thank God...”

I pushed the bitch out of the way and knelt down to Lil's slumped body on the floor resting her head on the tub. Lil's had always had a tanned, sun kissed complexion but now she looked pale. She tried to lift her head at the sound of my voice but was overtaken by a bout of dry heaves. Her hands were shaking and her skin was clammy. She called out to me from under her loose hair.  “Jay?” she whispered hoarsely.

I scooped her up and carried her out, Tiny pushing Christine to follow. Lil's sobbed quietly in my arms, head buried in my shoulder. Making our exit, some asshole with beer muscles stepped out into our path. “You fuckers don't belong here.”

I turned to Tiny and nodded my head in the frat boy's direction. The kid didn't have a chance to finish his sentence before Tiny decked him and knocked him out cold, while barely losing stride. Tiny may not be a physicist but he was one mother fucking strong wingman. The crowd fell back and we made it to the truck without any other incident. Christine was the first to hop into the back, and I placed Lil's across the seat, head in her friend's lap, before we jetted out of there.

******

I had stripped Lil's of the nasty clothes covered in her own vomit and used a cool washcloth to wipe her down. I covered her in one of my t-shirts and settled her into my bed. Tiny had taken Christine home and returned with Pedialyte, ginger ale, and aspirin. Lil's hadn't thrown up in a couple of hours and was able to sip small amounts of cool water every few minutes, but was still looking pretty green. I left her to sleep it off and joined Tiny in the kitchen.

“She alright, brother?” Tiny and Lil's had always been close, and I could see the worry on him.

I nodded, taking the beer he offered me. “She'll be fine in a day or two. Gonna have one helluva headache in the morning.”

Tiny was a man of few words. He didn't have much in this world... his bike, his cut, and his sister. When either one of those things were threatened, let's just say I wouldn't want to be on the other end of it.

“You think she's just hungover, then?” he asked.

I knew what he was getting at. Plenty of bitches came into the clubhouse looking to party and wound up drinking themselves stupid. We had seen it too many times to count, and this just didn't fit the mold. Lil's was a tiny thing, barely a buck twenty if I had to guess, but she hated hard liquor and got tipsy enough after two beers to cut herself off. There was more than a strong possibility that someone had slipped her something.

Lil's was drop dead gorgeous in a girl-next-door, Neutrogena commercial kind of way. A girl like that with a body like hers in a frat house full of douche bags was a prime target. Especially someone as trusting as her. I dropped my bottle in the sink and turned to Tiny. “How's about you and me clean that place out tomorrow night?  Make sure they can't have any more parties with sick girls for a while?”

Tiny nodded, eyes on fire. “Sounds pretty good to me, brother.”

I left him to crash on the sofa, and headed in to Lil's. She was sound asleep with even, steady breathing and her skin was cool and dry. Hopefully the worst was over. I pulled her close and slid in bed next to her, holding her, watching her. She was perfection. Even with her messed up hair and running makeup, she was perfect to me. And I would fucking wreck any person who ever tried to mess with that.

CHAPTER TWO

NOW

I pulled up in front of the rundown apartment building on Vine Street in one of the sketchier parts of town, cut my bike, and headed in while retrieving my piece from my back waistband. It was loaded... it was
always
loaded. I turned off the safety and engaged the barrel.

I had a prospect across the street for days now, scoping things out and keeping an eye on this place. Something’s felt off for a while and I'm glad I sent him when I did. With all the shit that's been going down the last few weeks with Shade and the rest of the Slayers, you'd think the asshole would put some muscle around to keep his ol' lady safe? There wasn't one Slayer within miles of this dump. It was another piece that didn't fit well in this fucked up puzzle.

I banged on the door to apartment 3B and stood ready... ready for whatever came out of it. The door opened slightly, the safety chain on the opposite side preventing any more space. Worn eyes stared back at me, taking me in. Her cigarette stained voice rasped out, “The fuck do you want? Came to apologize for your ol' lady? Or maybe you’re tired of babysitting little girls and you want to play with a real woman?”

Fuck that. I had hit this one time shortly after Lil's split, and double bagged it back then. No way was I in line for seconds. Vicky was a local stripper, kind of a legend in these parts. But she had lived a hard life and it was starting to catch up with her. Shade seemed to have aged her a bit, too. I knew they were fucking around the last few months but nothing on the radar pointed to him having an ol' lady. Another piece that didn't fit.

I ignored her open invitation.  “You alone? You got Shade in there?” I already knew from the prospect's reports that she was alone, the only visitors being a Chinese food delivery man and a courier from the pharmacy.

Vicky laughed hard, angry. The bandages and bruises covering her face must not have reacted well to the sudden facial movements. She winced. “I haven't seen that motherfucker since they dropped me off in the E.R. Just left me there. You looking for him? I want no part of it.”

Just as I thought. “We gotta talk, Vicky. Open up or I'm busting it down.”

Her blue eyes rolled and closed. We hadn't known each other well but she knew well enough to either open the fucking door or step back. The chain rattled and she let the door swing open fully while holding out an arm in a mock greeting. “Welcome to my shit hole... make yourself at home”

I scanned the room for any surprises. The prospect had been certain of his info, but after Blue and T.J. fucked things up with Lil's, I no longer had any faith in the lot of them.

The place was clear. I sat down at the kitchen table and placed the gun in front of me with my hand resting on it.  No room for error here.  This bitch needed to know the severity of the predicament she was in.  I had no time for bullshit information that would lead me on some wild goose chase.  I needed the real deal... and nothing gets that faster than a little bit of heat.

The place was small, unkept and smelled of cheap ass perfume.. pharmacy store type stuff. Shade was a nasty son of a bitch, but no way he would let his ol' lady hole up in a joint like this.

She was unshowered, wrapped in her robe despite it being three in the fucking afternoon and looked to be sky high on a little medical-induced vacation. She eyed my piece and sat slowly across from me.

I cleared my throat. “Where's your ol' man?”

We were playing a game. She knew it, I knew it. We just needed to make the moves for formality's sake.

Her eyes twitched. “He's on his way here right now.. taking me out tonight.”

Humph. That's unlikely. Vicky wasn't the type of woman you took out in public.

“Really? I have it on good authority that he's not.” I patted the gun for emphasis. “Let's cut the bullshit. I also know that your hospital tab is still unpaid and you're about two months overdue in your rent. Seems to me that Shade's falling short lately.... Maybe it's time to cut the pretense, jump ship while you still can, and maybe make out ahead in this little shit storm?”

Vicky's eyes widened. She was definitely interested. Bitches like this had no loyalty, although Shade definitely didn't warrant any.

“I gave Shade a hundred grand after your little run in with my ol' lady to cover your recovery. Seems to me the bastard doesn't want to share. Maybe we need to make a new deal, let's say... cut out the middleman?”

Vicky was practically salivating. “How do I know you won't fuck me over like he did?”

Well, at least the meds hadn't completely fucked up her sense of reason.

I sat back. “Darlin'... I may be a lot of things, but I'm no fucking liar. You come with me to my clubhouse, we'll offer you protection until you get set up with the cash far away from here. Start over. Hell, maybe go straight and try to salvage this train wreck of a life you got goin' for yourself?” I gestured at the apartment to serve as extra reinforcement.

She adjusted herself, clearly mulling over the options. She was no fool. She had gotten mixed up with enough bad mother fuckers to know this didn't have a happy ending. She had an out and she needed to take it while she could.  

“You can keep me safe? Shade thinks for a second that I snitch on him and you swear that he gets nowhere near me?” I nodded. She breathed relief. “What about your ol' lady? She's not exactly a warm person... can't picture her welcoming me with open arms.”

It turned my stomach to even hear this whore mention Lil's. Little did she know that right know she was my girl's best chance. She didn't need that information, though. If she knew I wasn't too sure she'd be that eager to help save the woman who busted her face.

“Not sure how Slayers do things, but Kingsmen don't let their women interfere with shit. You got my word that you won't even see her.”

That seemed to seal the deal. She nodded, left the table to pack some shit, and we cleared out in less than fifteen minutes. I may be offering her a pretty sweet deal, but desperate bitches do desperate things. I kept an eye on her to make sure she didn't try to sneak a call or message, leaking my plans to anyone. The prospect was still out front, some army vet named Leo. Young kid who served time in Afghanistan until they had no more use for him and then shipped his ass home, unemployed and bitter. Not exactly executive material, but he suited the outlaw life just fine. I stuck Vicky's ass on the back of his bike and we sped away to the clubhouse.

No less than three or four miles away did I get the text message from Butch.

BUTCH: STALLED LONG AS  I COULD

YOUR POPS GOT A HARD ON TO

START CHURCH ASAP WITH OR

WITHOUT YOU

No matter. Pops could have his little meeting, plan his carefully thought-out strategy. I know he means well, thinking about protecting the club and everything but I was fully prepared to go rogue on this one if I had to. No way was I risking any shit happening at all to Lil's or my baby while I'm sitting on my ass waiting for orders from my president.

The clubhouse was full of people. Family and close friends had been brought in on lockdown until this shit was clear. We didn't need anymore loved ones getting snatched up or dragged into this. Church must have already begun because their were no brothers to be seen. The only leather floating around was on the five or so prospects sifting around taking orders from the ol' ladies to be useful.

I grabbed Vicky by the elbow and led her over to where my ma was organizing some sort of table of food.

“Oh thank god! Where the fuck have you been? I was worried sick about you.” She stopped short when she noticed the pile of blond haired trash next to me, and shot me a hard gaze.

“Ma... this is Vicky. She's here under our protection. She was
Shades ol' lady.”
The emphasis on the title was important for my mom to catch onto. I needed her to be on the same page without tipping Vicky off as to what's really going on here. Good ol' ma. She never missed a beat. She reached out for Vicky's bag and drew her closer, nodding while studying the damage to her face.

“Follow me, sweetheart. We'll get you set up in Tiny's old room. Keep you away from curious people.” Vicky appeared to welcome the motherly attention and headed in the direction my ma was pointing, eager to leave the stares and whispering around us.

I leaned in to my ma's ear. “You stick to her like glue. No phone calls, no visitors. She knows nothing yet.” Ma nodded and strode off behind her new assignment.

******

Pops had been pretty pissed at my late arrival to church, but didn't skip a beat. We were expecting over ninety men within hours, support from local charters sent in to help contain this shit. Provisions needed to be made, arrangements set up. No activity at any of the known Slayer locations. Shade had slipped off the radar.

Lil's hadn't shown up anywhere and the hospitals were still empty. Tiny was still with his ma. I had no doubt how that was going and didn't envy the poor bastard. That woman was more bitter than a fucking lemon and this was going to feed into her hatred of anything Kingsmen. She had spewed horrible, vile shit to Lil's for as long as I can remember. No doubt she had more than a little to do with Lil's splitting on me back then. It was a miracle that Lil's turned out as well as she did. She was nothing like her poor excuse of a mom. Lil's was pure hearted, almost to a fault. Some would say naïve but I knew she was just too trusting. She wanted to see the good in people and seemed to just over look the bad shit in order to find it. Thank God for that, too. I had enough shit on me to make most women want to run for the hills, but not my baby. She saw my soul, she saw my heart. I learned early on how to box those up and protect them from the things I did for my club. Lil's found a way to get to them, take care of them without my feeling compromised in the hardness I needed to live. She was one in a million and I needed to stop wasting fucking time and find her before that son of a bitch hurts her.

Pop had finished his checklist. Well, this was as good a time as any I suppose. I spoke up, loud enough for the thirty or so guys crammed into the room to be able to hear. “I picked up Shade's ol' lady... she's in one of the back rooms being sorted out by ma.” Careful. I avoided my pop. I could hear a fucking pin drop.

All eyes turned to my pop at the head of the table.  In this room, lines were rarely blurred. I was not his son at this table. I was his V.P. and here to follow my president's direction. My pop sat up straight. “What part of stand the fuck down did you not understand!?”

“What part of she's my ol' lady and I'm gonna find her did you not understand?” I shot back.

The room tensed. Butch was paying extra attention to the father/son exchange and seemed to be pleased.

“Clear out!! Everyone! Leave us alone.” Pop commanded as the brothers all took their leave, anxious to get the hell out of the hot zone. Vince was rarely questioned but when he was, it was never quiet. He held tight to the reigns of this ship for twenty fucking years now. You don't do that by showing weakness and letting your authority be jeopardized.

Butch filled the lone chair at the far end of the table, firm in his resolve to stay. Butch and my pop had been friends since before I was born but there was a healthy bit of shit between them, festering over time. This was not the time to air this bullshit.

Pop stared at Butch and then spoke aloud to neither one of us directly. “I realize this is some hard shit. But, brothers, we need to keep this thing in check. I love her just as much as either of you. I want to break down his fucking door with guns blazing and end this now but we need to be smart.” Butch bit his lip, but held his tongue as pop finished.

“He's not a fool. He's an evil son of a bitch but he's no fool. He's been after our interests for a long time and this is just his chance to try to take it. He's not gonna touch her unless he feels that he's out of options. We need to give him enough rope to hang himself before we push him off the fucking ledge”

Pop turned to me and put his hand on my shoulder. “Having his bitch here is good, I think... leverage, intel... whatever we can use her for.” He squeezed my shoulder, drawing my eyes to meet him. “But son, you ever disobey me like this and I will personally make sure you can't do it again.”

I nodded. “As long as we have the same goal here, then I'm on board. But the second I feel that there is a missed opportunity... it's a risk I'm willing to take.”

We sat and stared at each other long and hard. President to vice president, father to son, husband to ol' man. He exhaled sharply. “Fair enough. Now let's see what Shades' chick has to tell us.”