Owned by the Outlaw (4 page)

****

Malice slammed his fist into the other fighter’s
face and grinned when he fell back and grunted out in pain. The underground
fight he was in put him in the barn that The Grizzly MC owned and where they conducted
these little bare-knuckle spectaculars in. There were probably twenty or so
guys watching in a semi-formed circle, their hands held high and money gripped
tightly between their fingers. They yelled out for more punches, more blood,
and to beat the shit out of the other fighter. When Lucien had brought this to
the table Malice hadn’t been one hundred percent sure this was what was best
for The Brothers, but after being in a man-to-man no rules fight, he realized
it was perfect for the club. A lot of the members needed to burn off that extra
fuel, and this was the perfect place to do it. Besides, The Brothers got a
hefty payout for participating, and each fighter got his pockets lined.

Malice threw a left hook and then a right undercut.
The other guy fell back on his ass once more, and it was clear the fight was
draining from him fast. They had been going at this for the past twenty
minutes, but Malice felt even more juiced up then when they first started.

“Get up motherfucker.” Malice bounced on the balls
of his feet. Sweat dripped down his temples, and he tasted the metallic, tangy
flavor of blood in his mouth.

The other guy finally pulled his sorry ass off the
ground, and turned his head to spit out a mouthful of blood. The floor was
covered in grime, dirt, and dried rust colored blood as it was, a testament to
the violence that happened behind these four walls. The crowd went wild,
screamed for more, and Malice was more than willing to deliver on that. More
sweat dripped off his bare chest. The barn was closed off to mute the sound and
block off any unwelcome prying eyes. The other guy suddenly charged forward like
he had gotten a second wind. Malice swung left, and then right, and dodged yet
another failed right hook the man attempted to deliver. It was like something
snapped inside of him, unleashed this other entity and had more strength
pouring into him. This barn might mainly be used for shifter fights, but Malice
was about to show these fuckers watching one hell of a show. The other fighter
caught him in the jaw, and Malice stumbled back. His lip split, and blood
dripped down his chin.

“
You fucking
cocksucker.
I’m about to collect a big ass amount for kicking a Brothers of Menace member.”

Malice ran the back of his hand over his mouth, saw
the blood smeared across it, and saw the proverbial red. “I hope you enjoyed
that hit, because it is the only one you’re going to get.” He charged forward,
saw the fighter’s eyes widen before he tackled him to the floor, and slammed
his fist into the side of his face repeatedly. Malice could have easily kept
going, but he wasn’t fighting to kill—that happened during the shifter fights.
The guy lay passed out beneath him, and Malice moved off of him. He spit to the
side, heard the crowd roar out, exchange money, and make bets on the next
fight.

“Fuck, man.” Sticks came up beside him and handed
Malice a towel and bottle of water.
“Killer fight.”

Malice took the towel and water. “Thanks.” He
watched as Sticks reached into his jacket and grabbed a white envelope stuffed
full of cash. Malice took it from the bookie, and then Sticks was moving into
the crowd and collecting money for the next fight. This might not be the best
way to make a living, but it sure as shit was one to release a lot of pent-up
aggression. He quickly dressed and moved over to the other members of The
Brothers of Menace that stood off to the side. Tuck and Rock were talking to
each other, and Kink and Lucien were talking to
Ruin
who was getting ready to fight next. Yeah, this was just another day in the
life of an outlaw biker, but what a fucking life it was.

Chapter Three

Molly parked her car by the line of Harleys and
turned off the engine. She had gotten out of work later than expected, and had
tried to call Malice to let him know. When she couldn’t get a hold of him she
had just driven to Steel Corner. The sun had set an hour ago. Dakota had fallen
asleep in the backseat, and she had been forced to drive to The Brothers’
clubhouse so she could drop her son off. After leaving a few messages, and even
texting Malice, but not getting a response, she had made the decision to just
come up. She planned on checking on the women at The Brothers other house, but
she didn’t know where it was for sure. She had only been there once, and it had
been dark.

The sound of a truck pulling up beside her had her
looking out her window and watching as Tuck, one of The Brothers of Menace
members, cut the engine and climbed out. He was no different from the other MC
crew with his massively large build and fierce look. She opened the door and
called out, “Tuck.”

The biker stopped and turned to look at her. He had
grown a beard since the last time she’d seen him a week ago, and although it
had only been seven days and was short, the facial hair covered his lower face,
and seemed to make him look even meaner. A smile broke out across his face.
Despite how hard these guys were, there was always a soft spot inside of them.
Tuck turned all the way around and made his way toward them.
“Hey,
girl.”
He braced a thickly muscled arm on the hood of her car and leaned
in slightly.

“Have you seen Malice?” No way in hell was Molly
bringing Dakota into the clubhouse, especially when she could hear the loud
music coming through the closed doors.

Tuck shook his head. “His bike is here, but I just
got here.”

Molly knew he was inside, and if she asked Tuck to
go in there it could be a while, or Tuck would get distracted by all the
half-naked or fully nude chicks walking around. “You mind staying here since
Dakota is sleeping? I’ll just run in and search him out. I tried to call, but
he hasn’t answered.” If Malice was even the slightest bit drunk or high he
could kiss his weekend with his son goodbye. But she knew if he planned on
being with Dakota he’d refrain from anything that could impair his judgment. At
least she hoped. Their last conversation hadn’t been very positive, not when
Malice had gotten all asshole-
ish
. She shook her
head. She didn’t need this shit right now, especially from him.

“You sure you don’t want me to go in there?”

Molly didn’t need to ask what Tuck meant, because
she knew he was implying there would be some crazy shit probably going on
inside of that clubhouse. It might have been smarter, but not faster, and right
now she was going for the quickest way. Molly climbed out of the car and
smiled. “There isn’t anything in there that I haven’t seen already.”

The five years she had been with Malice had opened
up her world to a whole slew of crazy debauchery. But being with a biker tended
to do that, and when said biker belonged to The Brothers of Menace, well then
she saw some really insane stuff. Lucien might have recruited Nomads from The
Brothers club, and his crew might have started their own charter and moved to
River Run, but the men that Lucien had handpicked were the roughest of the
rough. Lucien had come from the Arizona chapter, Malice from Colorado, a few
from Utah, and even some Nevada bred members. It was a mix of Nomads that had
wanted to stay Brothers, but have their own rules and regulations.

Tuck nodded and took a step back. She shut the car
door quietly and started heading toward the front of the clubhouse. Being with
Malice, who had been a Nomad for The Brothers, meant he was gone most of the
time. Would things have been different if he hadn’t been a fully patched in
member? In the end, she thought, probably not. They were just two very
different people, and toward the end it had been their son that had kept her
trudging on in the relationship.

She reached the front door and grabbed the handle.
Before opening it she looked over her shoulder and saw Tuck leaning against her
car lighting a cigarette. She faced forward again and pulled the door open. The
interior of the clubhouse was smoky, and the scent of cigarettes, cigars, and
marijuana filled the air. It took her vision a moment to adjust to the hazy
atmosphere, but when it finally did she saw several of The Brothers in various
places. The clubhouse was a massive cabin up on Sterling Hill in River Run. It
might have been a wealthy man’s retreat at one time, but since Lucien and the
club had purchased it, they’d built a massive wall around the property. It was
now a house full of sex, drugs, and violence. But it also held dangerous,
controlled men, ones that were tactical, intelligent, and didn’t let anyone
fuck with them. She sighed, rubbed her eyes to get the grit from being inside
away, and searched out Lucien. She didn’t see Malice, but the President would
know where he was.

When she spotted him it was to see him all but
screwing a club whore against the wall. His pants were still on, but the
woman’s skirt was pushed up to her waist, and the rocking motion Lucien was
doing left little to the imagination. Okay, maybe he wasn’t the best person to
ask, but all the other guys were in pretty much the same situations. She
glanced over at the bar and saw Ruin sitting at the counter looking already
drunk. These men may have been Nomads in different states, but after years with
Malice she had met many of the Brothers patched in. The ones Lucien had chosen,
though, were ones she had seen the most frequently over the years, and had
grown close with as they were genuinely good-hearted men with honest intentions
… well, for the most part.

No one even blinked an eye her way, not when they
were most likely drunk, high, and about to get laid. She stopped beside Ruin,
who was polishing off a shot and then grabbed his full glass of beer to drink
half of it while she stood there.

“You’re a long way from home, Molls.” Ruin set his
beer down and turned just his head to look at her. His eyes were glossy and
red-rimmed, and the scent of alcohol was so strong she could have gotten drunk
from the fumes alone.

“I’m looking for Malice.” She had to shout to be
heard over the music.

Ruin didn’t say anything for several seconds. He had
his arm on the bar’s counter, and she could see that he was holding himself up.
“I don’t think you want to see him.” Ruin’s words were slurred, and then he
grinned. His dark hair was longer, brushing his chin, but looking like he had
been running his hands through it over and over again. She had heard some of
the other members tease him because he was the “pretty boy” of the group. She
could see why Ruin had gotten that name. He certainly looked more clean-cut
than the other rugged members. But right now he looked no different from every
other intoxicated guy in this clubhouse.

“I want to see him. He hasn’t answered my calls, and
we were supposed to meet so he could get Dakota.”

Ruin grabbed his beer and finished it off before
setting the mug back on the table. “He isn’t here.”

“You’re lying. His bike is here. Just tell me where
he is.” She didn’t have time for this, and although she knew Malice was
probably fucking some cheap female, she was going to confront his ass on being
a shitty father and choosing some club whore over his own son. Gritting her
teeth and staring at Ruin, she waited for him to finally just spit it out.

He shrugged and pointed over his shoulder.
“Last room down the hallway on the right.
Don’t say I didn’t
warn you.” Ruin lifted his hand for the prospect manning the bar to give him
something else to drink.

For whatever reason, or maybe because Malice was telling
them that she was still his old lady, all of The Brothers seemed to think that
they were together. She moved past Ruin, away from all the nastiness going on
around her, and headed down the hallway. When she got to the last door on the
right she could hear the moaning coming through the wood. She wasn’t jealous,
didn’t care how many women Malice screwed. What pissed her off was the fact he
hadn’t returned her calls, and knew he was supposed to be spending time with
his son this weekend. She brought her knuckles down on the door hard enough
that it stung, and took a step back. There was a few seconds where she stood
there still listening to the moaning from a very rambunctious club whore. Molly
slammed her hand on the door again three more times.

“Whoever is on the other side of that fucking door
better turn the fuck around and
leave.
” Malice’s deep
voice came through.

Molly became even more pissed off. She slammed her
hand on the door again and didn’t stop until she heard Malice cursing and his
heavy footsteps coming closer to her.

“This better be fucking good, or I’m going to beat
someone’s ass—” Malice stopped mid-sentence as soon as he had the door open and
saw it was her. His pants were still up, but his condom covered cock was pulled
out through the fly.

“Seriously?”
Molly was furious with him, and when she looked over his shoulder and saw the
woman who couldn’t have been more than eighteen, her anger grew. “This is what
you’d rather be doing than spending time with your son?”

He knitted his brows. “What the fuck are you talking
about? I tried to call you yesterday and earlier today.” He shoved himself back
in his pants, and her stomach clenched with disgust that he didn’t care who he
had sex with as long as he got off. “You never returned my call, Molly. And
after the argument we had I just thought you had changed your mind and were
giving me a big fuck you because you were pissed.”