Spec (Defenders M.C, Book 6)

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Authors: Amanda Anderson

BOOK: Spec (Defenders M.C, Book 6)
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Spec

Defenders MC Series

Amanda Anderson

Copyright © 2015 by Amanda Anderson

 

All rights reserved, except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

 

The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of copyrighted material is illegal.  Criminal copyright infringement is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and $250,000 in fines.

http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/

Cover art

©
Finepics
|
Dreamstime.com

 

This book is a work of fiction and any similarities to persons living or dead, places, incidents are completely coincidental and not intended by the author.

Printed in the United States of America

One

 

Spec sat with his booted feet stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles and he watched.  That’s what he was, what he’d always been really, an observer, a thinker.  There had been few times in his life when he had felt comfortable enough to get involved.  That usually led to disaster, so for the safety of everyone, he just watched.

No one ever saw him as strong enough or man enough to be included so he had watched and he had learned.  He had discovered that there was power in observations.  There was strength in knowledge.  There was strength in keeping people away.  Getting too close could cause destruction.  Everyone had a weakness and it took skill to find that weakness and figure out how to use it or how to protect them from having it used against them.  Spec found those weaknesses that everyone thought they hid so well and he exploited them in his enemies and he tried to help his brothers by protecting them from the weaknesses they didn’t even know he had discovered.  Even here in the clubhouse of the MC he had joined after his more fruitful ambitions had faded away to memories.  Here he had suffered too, but it had made him stronger.  The brothers respected him.  No one underestimated him, but once.  No one really knew him, but they all knew that he could take them down even if his biceps weren’t as beefy.  They knew that he could make them disappear as if they never had been and no one would ever find them or he could simply make them wish they were dead.

Spec had learned that intellect must be matched by cunning and the right amount of brawn and he had learned that getting too close to anyone made you a target just as it made them one.  People were strange and they always hurt those closest to them.  Those you love posed the biggest threat.  Spec had always seen it.  He watched it in the way his brothers acted with their women and families.  Those who really know you have the most ammunition against you because of the trust you give to them.

Pain sliced through him as it always did as memories assailed him.  Sometimes brains couldn’t fix everything.  Sometimes you needed muscles too and a little bit of crazy helped.  One didn’t have to actually be crazy, just make those around you wonder if you might be.  That was enough.  The brothers called him reckless, but Spec rarely took real chances with himself.  He was cool and calculating.  He always knew what he was doing and he always considered all the angles, even if they suspected his closest friends of treachery.  That had been a hard lesson.  The lessons of his youth had shaped him into a man that had no place in the real world and barely one among the misfits that made up the MC, but this was what he was and he accepted it.  The past made everyone. 

He took a deep breath and let the tattered shreds of his past flutter away on the smoke that hung in the room.  He let the noise around him dull to a roar as he let his eyes wander the room.  Most in this room no longer held any mystery, but there was always something to be learned.  Everyone had something to hide.

He let his eyes fall to the dyed haired beauty dancing not too far from him.  She called herself Naughty, but Spec knew that until about a year ago she had been called Tiffany and she had been a school teacher out west.  Spec had seen the pictures of a smiling Tiffany with dreams of happily after in her eyes, now her eyes were dulled with pain and whatever she had snorted before walking into the clubhouse.

Tiffany had died the day a kid took a gun into her school and killed sixteen kids and a teacher.  That teacher had planned to marry Tiffany the very next weekend, but a bullet ended his life and her dreams for a happy future.  The girl had turned to a life of numbness and had ended up here doing anything to feed that habit that kept her from feeling.

Her story wasn’t so different from the dozen or so women dancing in the shabby clubhouse for men who wouldn’t remember their names tomorrow.  Men that saw them as nothing but the feminine assets they displayed.  They weren’t people, they were just party favors.  They disgusted Spec.  He saw no honor in hiding and running from life.  Shit happened, but you had to get through it.  By hiding you disrespected those who had lost their lives.  To honor them you had to really survive.

The door opened and let in a puff of fresh air as another woman walked into the room.  This woman was why he’d come tonight.  He wanted to see this moment to gage her reaction, to see if his interest in her was unfounded.  Only then would he know if she was what he hoped.

Her hair was dyed black, but it was her natural color and Spec loved that she had reclaimed that part of her.  The tips were died and the color varied often.  Tonight the tips of her short hair were green and that happened to be Spec’s favorite color.  He wanted to take it as a sign, but he couldn’t allow himself to be so foolish or whimsical, so he watched.  It wasn’t hard to watch her, she drew him like a moth to a flame and he knew she was just as dangerous to him.  He wanted to learn about her, find something only he would know, but she was good at hiding her feelings. 

Right now all he knew were facts and that drove him a little insane.

Her name was Candace Night, she went by Candy and had as far back as Spec could track her.  She was twenty-five.  He knew her birthdate and social security number.  He knew that her mother was a stripper and had been as far back as he could track.  He knew she had grown up in South Florida and that she never went to college, but graduated with honors from high school.  He found no evidence of a father and that wasn’t uncommon among strippers.  He knew that Ink had spotted her at
Tease. 
He knew that she had one tattoo and she had almost cried getting it.  He knew that Toothpick had claimed her as his lay, but not his old lady.  Pick hadn’t let her dance past the first night.  He had kept her in his bed or on his bike and she seemed to like that just fine.  After Pick went to prison Candy was left with no way to take care of herself.  Most didn’t know that, she had hidden it well, but Spec had made it a point to find out.  Pick hadn’t left her any provisions.  She hadn’t even had a place to live other than the ratty trailer Pick had called home.

Spec had found out about her talent with a pen and ink from searching her background and had mentioned it to Ink.  Ink had given her a job without question.  She was too talented to be a club whore and Ink was a man who saw potential and believed in giving breaks when he could.  The brothers all were wary of Pick after he had slammed a toothpick through some bastard’s eye for touching Candy.  They didn’t want to put her back on stage.  Ink had settled the issue.  Candy had shown surprising spirit and intelligence while Pick had been in prison.  She had a way with paper and ink too and designed several tattoos that graced the walls of
Just Ink,
the studio Ink owned. She worked hard and never complained.  She paid rent on her tiny apartment above the studio even though Ink told her she didn’t have to.  She helped the club with anything they asked.  She had even taken care of Ace before he died and Spec knew for sure that she had shown the old badger her boobs to get his mind off his pain on more than one occasion.

She had never shown interest in any of the brothers either.  There was an understanding that if a man is in the joint, his woman didn’t have to go without, but that wasn’t Candy.  She’d happily awaited Pick’s release.  Arrangements had been made a few times for her to share a conjugal visit and Spec had watched Candy fight with her emotions on those days.  He could tell she hadn’t enjoyed the visits and she felt conflicted by her own feelings.  Spec had driven her up there twice and she had come out both times pale and looking sick.  He had stopped at a motel the second time so she could clean up and it had made Spec crazy when she looked at him with embarrassed gratitude.  That was the day he had decided to win her or at the very least show her that she was worth more than a cold prison fuck.  It had scared him enough to stay away from her and to refuse to drive her the next time, but it hadn’t kept him from ensuring her safety and from declining Pick’s plan of trading favors inside for her visits.  He had arranged for one of the girls to go with her so she didn’t feel so embarrassed about what she had to endure.  Angel had fumed about it for weeks.  After Pick’s trading plans were snuffed out he didn’t ask for more time with her and Spec had noticed her smile brightening again.

Spec had never told her.  He had never told anyone what Pick had planned for her.  He had driven up there and had a long visit with Pick to explain how him giving Candy to inmates to make his time in prison more comfortable wouldn’t happen.  He had seen Pick’s hatred for him that day and hadn’t flinched.  Sure he knew that Pick had complained to Preach, but there was no way Spec would allow it and Preach knew him too well to try to go over him on it.  He had protected her from the bastard even though she waited with stars in her eyes for him to be released.  Preach had put his foot down and demanded that Spec stay away from her.  He had, but he had also made sure she was safe and a few times he had made sure there was an extra twenty in her wallet when it was empty.

He had snuck into her apartment a few times to make sure the locks were solid and had hidden a few bucks here and there for her to find.  He loved the look on her face when she stuck her hand in her back pocket and pulled out a few dollars.  She lit up like a Christmas tree and he felt it to the soles of his feet. 

Candy had hoped Pick would claim her the minute he got out, but he hadn’t.  Pick hadn’t even come straight home to her or the brothers.  After his release was delayed by months for a prison issue, he took his time getting home.  He had stopped to see friends in other charters before making his way back to Cool Creek.  That was just fine with Spec.  The brothers had needed to heal before Pick got back.  After almost losing Marty, Ace’s daughter and Mike’s old lady and then Ace losing his battle with cancer, the club was in need of some peace.  Now though they needed to cut loose and remember what life was about.  Pick was just an excuse.

Spec saw the exact instant when Candy’s eyes fell on the guest of honor.  He waited for the female hysterics, but Candy denied him.  He saw her take a deep breath, give a little nod, and grit her teeth before she plastered on a smile that said she didn’t give two shits about the asshole across the room.  She slipped behind the bar and gave the man behind the bar, Jack, a wink. 

Spec shook his head as Jack sauntered across the room and grabbed Jazz from where she lounged against the wall.  Jack had made brother a while back, but he was still near the bottom of the totem pole.  Tommy Rich was at the bottom and probably always would be after the shit he continued to pull.  There were a few hang arounds that the brothers had talked about letting be prospects, but the pickins were slim and that wasn’t good for a group like this.  They needed new blood.  They had only two prospects and they were running their legs off doing all the dirty work that the club threw at them.  Choo-Choo was a big fucker with a shaved head.  He had tribal tattoos up his neck and over his head and he looked scary as hell, but he was quiet.  He was a smart son of a bitch when it came to numbers too and Spec thought he might be a real asset.  He also had a smile that drew the ladies in even if he was too shy to say much to them.  He drew them like bees to honey and at times that made him uncomfortable.   Gator was another that had patched in as a prospect recently.  Fox had known his daddy and had spoken for him, but Spec had found it almost impossible to find any information on him.  He’d grown up off the radar, down in the bayou and it was like his whole damned family were ghosts.  He had some creepy shit inked on his body and a beaded necklace around his neck.  He spoke with a thick Cajun accent and carried an aura that put some people off.  He had a big laugh and knew a thing or two about gumbo so he was a big hit.  Spec figured he wouldn’t have much trouble making brother.

Spec fought a grin as he watched Rena wrap her shiny red lips around Choo-Choo’s dick.  That kid was turning as red as her lips.  He was a good kid though and deserved what Rena would give him.  Rena wasn’t like the other girls.  Her eyes were alive and she used the men as much as they used her and she loved it.  The brothers were almost afraid of her.  Spec had heard Jack say that she made him feel used after she had kicked him out of her bed once she got all she wanted of him.  Spec doubted the act was real, but it definitely gave her one up on the brothers.

Spec looked back to Candy as if his eyes were drawn to her.  She gave no sign that Pick’s behavior bothered her other than the slight shift of her eyes sometimes.  She knew and she was thinking about how to deal, but she wouldn’t show it.  She kept her smile in place as she served the brothers and bantered with them easily as she always had.  She didn’t judge either.  She was in an odd place and this was dangerous terrain for her.  If Pick didn’t claim her she could be out there with the other girls before long and she knew it so she treated everyone with respect.  She didn’t take shit off of anyone, but she didn’t look down her nose at a single person in the club, no matter where they ranked.  He respected that.

  The woman mystified him and he couldn’t stand it much longer.  If Pick didn’t have a claim on her then there was nothing holding him back anymore.  He would let her know that he intended to claim her and he would make her damned happy too.

He caught Preacherman’s eye and lifted his chin to the president of the founding charter.  Preach nodded and that was all that had to be done.  The move had been made, now he just had to wait and see how it all played out.

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