X Marks the Spot (Executioners MC Book 1) (2 page)

The final message was from Jessa. My heart stopped at the serious, curt tone in my sister’s voice.

“Jo, this is not the time for this stubborn ass bullshit. Pick up the fucking phone.” She paused for a moment. “Fine, you need to come home. Shit is going down with the club. Serious shit. Call me back.”

Serious shit with the MC.

Dammit
.

CHAPTER TWO

(Ronin)

“This is bullshit and you know it. A fucking witch hunt.” Rage boiled deep in my gut as I paced the tiny room. My vision was still blurry and my head hurt like a motherfucker.

“Look man, you’re gonna need to calm down.”

My shoulders throbbed as I whipped my head around, snarling at Jimmy X. Jimmy was the club’s VP and the only levelheaded son-of-a-bitch in the crew.

Jimmy put his hands up, palms out, and took a couple of steps backwards. “Boy, back up now. I know you’re a big ass motherfucker, but Herc’s bigger. Don’t make me call him in here. You know he doesn’t like confrontation.”

I pumped my fists. My nostrils flared as I scanned the room, surveying my brothers one by one.

Jimmy must have been the poor fucker who drew the short straw. He stood in the middle of the room, with the crew strategically planted around him. Stoner, a fellow club veteran, stood off to one side. The way he bounced on the balls of his feet gave away his shot nerves. Zombie, a soldier, sidled up next to Jimmy. However, he was careful to stay one foot behind his senior. He was a greasy fuck, inside and out. A first class bastard. And by the look of his greasy smirk, he was hoping that I got out of line. The douchebag was itching to pounce.

Patsy, Zombie’s old lady, had backed herself into a far corner. That Prince Charming of hers had managed to beat any ounce of self-esteem right out of her.

Hercules, the MC’s Enforcer, was better known as Herc. He lagged behind, filling the doorframe, ready to bolt if given the chance. His gaze darted around the room, trying not to make eye contact with me. He folded his arms across his humongous chest and jutted his chin into the air. The big brood was trying to appear tough. He was gigantic, standing at six eight and three hundred and twenty pounds of solid muscle. My own six three frame seemed average next to my big, tenderhearted brother.

“Where’s Jesse?” My chest heaved as the words escaped through clenched teeth.

“He’s on his way. He and Clint had to take care of some business.”

Clint was the MC’s Road Captain and if I had to pick one, my closest friend. He was the only thing I had when it came to a real family. The fact that he and Jesse were MIA was a bad sign.

Jimmy took another step in my direction, with Zombie close on his heels.

“Son, you know I wouldn’t steer you wrong.”

Instincts kicked in and I widened my stance. “Are you fucking kidding me?” I rubbed the back of my head, feeling the painful lump that had already doubled in size. “One of you hit me over the damn head.”

Zombie’s face twisted into a snarl as he snickered. “That would be me. That tire iron left a pretty nasty mark.”

I sprang into action and lunged at Zombie. My vision tunneled, the room faded to black as the bump on my head throbbed, sending a shooting pain through my right eye.

“Hell yeah!” Zombie braced himself with a switchblade in hand.

The only thing I remembered was the sight of Herc barreling into the room and then struggling for air.

Lights out.

***

“Hey there, handsome. Good to see you’re still with us. Herc will be thrilled to hear the good news.”

I pried open my heavy lids. Realizing I was on the couch, I swung my long legs over the side and planted my size thirteen boots on the floor. Jessa used the opportunity to plop down beside me. Her cheap, heavy perfume made my nose twitch.

She might be the Prez’s daughter, but she was a fucking mess. One that I wanted no part of, although babysitting her had somehow evolved into part of my job description.

I struggled to stand, but quickly fell back onto the couch.

“Easy, big boy.” She placed her hands on my shoulders and massaged until I rudely shook her off, not that she would get the hint.

She was always pawing at me. Delusional bitch.

“What the fuck happened?”

She left one hand next to my arm, grazing her fingertips along my bare bicep. “Seems like you had to be taken down a notch and Herc was the weapon of choice. Choke hold.”

I strained to swallow. The meathead must have done a real number on me this time. I’ll have to deal with him later.

“Jesse here yet?”

She stood and readjusted the strap of leather she called a top. “No, but he’ll explain when he gets back from Chico. We were put on lockdown.”

“Lockdown? What the fuck’s in Chico?”

She peered down at me. I hated the way the small glint in her eyes reminded me of the past. They were too familiar, haunting, reminding me of the life I could have had.

Jessa planted a hand on her hip. “Look, I told you we’re on lockdown. That’s all I can say. You know how it goes. A bitch knows nothing.” She tossed her head to one side and blew me a flaming red lipstick kiss.

She sashayed out of the room, leaving me to wonder why I was at the damn cabin in the first place.
Lockdown
? There must be some serious shit going down if Jesse put us on lockdown. Why the hell wasn’t I privy to the intel? As the club’s Sargent at Arms, I had every right to know, especially if the information put my brothers at risk.

Air, I needed some fucking air. The room was closing in around me. I stepped out onto the porch to try to clear my head, only to find two wide-eyed prospects standing guard.

“What the fuck are you looking at?”

The two men quickly scrambled, attempting to appear busy. The fucking lunkheads were useless. Hell, I guess I could use their flabby asses as a shield if needed. I snapped my head around toward the dirt road as the newbies broke out into a battle stance, barricading me as the rumble of Jesse’s sled shook the gravel driveway.

Jesse backed his bike into his designated spot between the front porch and the detached garage. Clint backed his in on the opposite side assigned to the soldiers.

“Shit. You boys make for a piss poor fucking wall.” Jesse barked, directing his irritation toward the two prospects.

“Don’t worry fellas. Ya did good. Take a smoke break.” Clint grinned, like a good old, southern gentleman. Always the fucking peacekeeper. God clearly thought such a talent would be wasted on me.

I huffed and waved my arms in the air. “What the fuck, man? What the hell am I doing here? What’s going down in Chico?”

Jesse’s face fell. “Church in five.”

“Church? What the …?”

Clint quickly clasped me on the shoulder and squeezed. The bridge of his nose wrinkled. It was his way of telling me to keep my big ass mouth shut.

My chest expanded. Being patient was not my strong suit. I was known for kicking ass first and taking names second, if I felt like giving a shit. However, Clint had never steered me wrong. He could read the old man like a fucking book. I drew my lips into a hard line to signal a response.

Clearly on edge, Jesse stormed through the cabin that had belonged to the club since the late seventies. The MC used it as a comfortable hideout since it was self-sufficient and off the grid, deep in the heart of the Tahoe National Forest, surrounded by giant Sequoias.

“Get this shit hole polished. Ruth’s on her way with the chow.” Jesse spouted off orders, sending Patsy into a frenzy. Jessa gave an agitated sigh, but she wasn’t fooling anyone. She may not have been happy about daddy bossing her around in front of the club, but she sure as shit got her ass in gear.

Jesse disappeared down the hallway, slamming the door to his designated bedroom. Ruth walked in with an armful of grocery bags followed by Bonnie and Tammy. Ruth was like a mother to the poor souls who were unfortunate enough to be part of the Executioners, males and females. The fate was the same.

And I wouldn’t choose to be anywhere else.

“Shit, let the prospects get that. You don’t have to do that yourself.” I grabbed the bags from her arms and jerked my head toward the door, sending the wannabes into motion.

She shook her head. “They’re on guard right now. No need to confuse them.” She giggled, but I didn’t bother to crack a smile. “Son, it’s gonna be ok. You just have to stay calm.” She popped the top on a Budweiser before passing it my way.

I took a long swig and sighed. The welcomed, ice-cold beer bubbled in my throat. I realized that I hadn’t had anything to eat or drink since early this morning. Dumb move since the sun was going down and the pain from my head was now radiating to my stomach.

“Do you know what all this secret bullshit’s about?”

Ruth smiled. “You know a bitch knows nothing.”

If I hear that fucking excuse one more time, I’m going to put someone’s head through a damn wall. I rolled my eyes and huffed. There wasn’t anything Ruth didn’t know. If it had anything to do with the MC, she knew about it. She was Jesse’s number one confidant, his sounding board. It had been that way for the last twenty years.

“The only thing I have to say is you’ll get through this. The Executioners are your family and we’re here for you. You have to trust that.”

“What the fuck does that mean? This morning I was having eggs and coffee down at the D&K Diner, and now I’ve been kidnapped by my own damn club and am being held hostage at the cabin. I have a fucking lump on my head and the MC’s on lockdown. Someone knows something, and I want some fucking answers!”

Bonnie and Tammy stepped into the room. My gaze darted from Ruth to the other two women. My stomach pitched. Their eyes were full of pity and worry. In true Patsy fashion, she was cowered down in another corner, and by the looks of her trembling chin, she was trying not to have a fucking break down.

Jessa leaned against the wall tugging on a dishtowel. The stone expression on her face gave away shit. The more everyone acted like I was fucking crazy, the crazier I got. My head was spinning.

I ran my hands through my hair. “I think I’m losing my damn mind. Seriously, someone better tell me what the hell’s going on.” My loud, baritone voice echoed throughout the room.

“Ronin! Church, now.” Jesse’s commanding tone was all I needed to put myself in check. He rounded the corner and I promptly followed. While at the cabin, church took place in a makeshift office. Only soldiers were allowed inside. No prospects or old ladies, including Ruth.

I surveyed the room. Stoner sat on one side next to Herc, who was tapping his fingers on the table and staring at his lap. Typical. Zombie sat on the other side, glowering at me with that signature, greasy ass smirk. Next to him was Clint, who wouldn’t even make eye contact with me.
Fuck
. An empty chair, my chair, was in between Jimmy and Clint. As VP, Jimmy sat directly to the left of Jesse.

There was an order to follow. A hierarchy. The president always graced the head of the table with a gavel in hand.

“Sit, son.” Jesse motioned to my reserved seat and leaned back in his own chair, crossing one leg over the other. He ran his hand through his scruffy, salt and pepper beard. He was a small man with a thin frame, but size was never an issue for Jesse Miller. He was a crazy fuck, with a crazy eye to match. He had gotten into a bar fight when he was still too young to drink and was pistol whipped into a coma. He took the butt end of a Smith and Wesson right in the eye, leaving him partially blind.

He had definitely paid his dues. He fought hard to come up in the ranks and have his boney ass grace that head chair.

He was also the only father that I had ever known. I’d had my eye on becoming an Executioner since I was a kid, chasing around the youngest Miller girl. When Jesse called me son, I knew the old man meant it.

I sat as instructed and Jesse opened the meeting by hammering the gavel against the wood table. My pulse raced, adrenaline shooting like a drug through my veins. Waiting for answers was excruciating. This entire day has been a fucking mind bender and I still hadn’t figured out what the lockdown had to do with me.

Jesse took a long drag off his cigarette and addressed the MC. “As you know, the Executioners are on lockdown. When one of our own come under fire, we take it personally. It’s time for a vote.”

I glanced around the room. My wide-eyed gaze fell on each of my brothers. The veins in my bulging neck strained against my hot flesh, blood boiling, flooding my temples. The voices in my head were screaming at me, replaying every move that I had made over the last few days.

Nothing out of the norm came to mind. Clint and I had made our usual round of collections. We made a quick run down south, but nothing big there. The exchange went smooth, just like the other hundred times I had made the same haul. Not that I hadn’t seen people die for a lot less over the years.

“Let’s get started then.” Jesse looked directly at me. “Yay or nay. Who votes to send Ronin up north to the Portland chapter?”

CHAPTER THREE

(Jolene)

Goose bumps broke out across my skin as the familiar town came into view. Jericho was small. The kind of town where everyone knew one another, even if they pretended as if they didn’t.