Page 8 of Mac

Mac

It was a usual Friday night at the clubhouse. Tons of people, loud music, and enough alcohol to ensure none of us would end the night sober. Earlier in the day, we had a barbeque for the families. After we ate, the old ladies and kids headed back home. Some of the brothers did as well, including Viking. He didn’t give a shit what kind of debauchery was going on, but he didn’t participate in it.

Viking and his wife, Meredith, had been together for almost twenty years. They were the real deal, and he wouldn’t think of fucking that up by messing around with a piece of club ass.

As the night progressed, some of the local chicks had come out to party, so there was plenty of pussy to go around, but I was bored. Michelle kept approaching me, but I’d fucked her twice in the last week. Anything more than that and she would start thinking we were in some sort of relationship.

Fuck that.

“See anything worthwhile?” Wolf slapped me on the back and sat down on the barstool next to me.

“Not yet.” One of our prospects, Zeke, was bartending tonight. I signaled for him to come over and ordered two more shots. “A few more of these and I’m sure something will catch my eye.”

“You ready to ride out in a few days?” my friend asked as we continued to scan the crowd.

I nodded, picking up the pack of smokes lying on the bar, taking out a cigarette, and lighting it with my Zippo. “Absolutely.”

Our next trip was going to be our first weapons run. One of our brothers, Spike, had been working on the deal for a while. A rival club, the Phantoms, was heavily involved in the gun trade, and they were trying to make a move on our territory. If we could secure the gun market, then we could protect our territory and ourselves.

Wolf and I continued to shoot the shit for a while before we were interrupted by TJ, one of our other prospects.

“Anyone seen Colt around?”

“He’s probably in his room fucking his first girl of the night,” Wolf informed him. “What’s up?”

“There’s some chick out front looking for Viking. Figured since he already left, maybe Colt could deal with her.”

“What do you mean bysome chick?” It didn't make sense to me that a woman was here looking for Viking. He stayed clear of any kind of drama, especially the kind involving crazy bitches.

“I don’t know, man. She’s pretty young, and she wouldn’t tell me what she needed to speak to him about. That’s why I didn’t let her in.”

“Good man,” I said as I stood up and walked past him. “I’ll go check it out.”

Usually, Colt would handle things when Viking was unavailable, but as the secretary of this club, I could deal with some girl.

I opened the door and was hit with a blast of cold air. We may live in the desert, but it was cold as fuck at night in the winter. I looked around but didn’t see anyone.

I was just about to go back inside when movement off to the right caught my eye. Whoever was there slowly made their way closer to me. Once she was standing under the glow of the porch light, I could make out most of her features.

She was tall for a female, at least five-foot-nine. She had long, blonde hair that almost reached her waist. Her bright-blue eyes were huge, and she looked like she was ready to bolt at any minute. That wasn’t surprising. The clubhouse didn’t exactly have a welcoming vibe to it.

Even though she looked scared, I couldn’t ignore how hot she was. Her sweater and jeans couldn’t hide the fact she had big tits with a tiny waist and the longest pair of legs I’d ever seen. I had no idea what someone like her would want with Viking, but I was willing to let her wrap those sexy legs around me.

She took two more steps toward me, and that was when I noticed how young she looked. I wasn’t sure if she was even legal. That was enough to quickly kill any thought I had of making her mine for the night.

“You’re the chick looking for Viking?” I asked, not caring if my gruff voice scared her more than she already was. We didn’t need anyone causing trouble for the club.

“Viking?” she asked, her voice shaky, giving me a confused look.

I squinted at her, my guard up. “Yeah, the president of this club,” I said, slowly. “That’s who you were asking for, right?”

Her eyes darted around like a caged animal. “I don’t know who Viking is. I’m looking for a Samuel Andersen.”

What the hell? No one ever referred to Viking by his legal name. I had no clue what this girl was up to, but I wasn’t going to give her any information until I found out.

“Sorry to break it to you, sweetheart, but there’s no one here by that name.”

“Please, I need to find him. I have something important to tell him.” She stood there, looking at me with pleading eyes.