Page 69 of Bleed Me

As more bikers joined us, all sitting on the floor, sure not to touch the terrified young woman, Saint, in awe, stared at us, then touched his girl’s head with such love and kindness. “Look, baby. We’re not alone.”

Lynx’s deep voice came from the doorway. “Never again, Pretty Girl. Look at your family.”

We were a rough and tough lookin’ crew—long beards, barbells, gauges, and tats—and everyone was half-naked, not to forget guns in every hand, but family we were.

As if not sure what she would see, Jamie huddled against Saint’s chest even closer, drawing her legs in tighter. Finally, she opened her eyes. Terrified hazels looked around… and her body slowly eased, her fists loosening on Saint’s clothing. Her overworked lungs hiccupped as she tried to talk. “H-Hi, everyone.”

Silent tears streamed down Saint’s face as he leaned his head back against the wall behind him. His eyes were slammed shut, and he was biting his lip. I think he was at a breaking point, and we had joined the fight just in time.

“Giver,” called out Lynx. “You’re with me.” He walked away.

Calmly, so not to spook Jamie, I got to my feet, keeping my gun tucked from her sight. Turning to follow the direction he headed, my attention was caught by his back’s tat that read Steel Stallions. I was proud to already have my own halfway done. Lynx headed down the other direction in the hallway, opposite of the Barn, and I followed. He turned a corner to the left and then toward his bedroom on the right. He waved me to follow him into his room. “Secret two.”

His room was double the size of Justice’s bedroom. Way more spacious. It even had a kitchenette. Justice and I had a little mini-fridge, like the kind that’s popular with college kids. But I only noticed all that in a glance because, in the end, I had Captain, my Justice, so I was fucking fine.

Lynx walked to his open closet. “When anything goes down, she is to hide.” He gestured for me to peek. There was no one in the closet, so I shrugged. He spoke the words, “Stallion for life,” before I heard a creak, and then Elle appeared in a silk white robe, a gun at her side, looking like a deadly angel. He pointed to me. “Got it?”

It was wild that my Old Lady—far from an angel—was also with a gun, but would be by my side as shit went down. Prez had a secret hiding place for his, reminding me that my woman wasn’t the norm, whatsoever. I hoped I would never have to use this information about Elle, but replied, “Got it. And won’t forget her signal.”

Elle laid a hand to his naked chest that was full of tats. “Was it Jamie?”

“Yeah, babe, but she’s okay now.” He kissed Elle as if thankful his true treasure was safe, then swatted her on the ass. “Get some sleep. I’ll be back.”

Grabbing a remote from his dresser, we left his room and headed toward a dead-end, to the right. I thumbed over my shoulder. “Nice pad, Prez.”

“You’ve never seen Elle’s suite before?”

“Nah, I try to mind my business.”

“That you do.”

“Her suite, eh?”

“Everything of mine is hers, kid.”

He stopped, and we stared at the dead-end—a wall where there was another Steel Stallions painting. This time, it had standing horses, staring out at us, with wolves laying at their hoofs. Despite their posture, the wolves didn’t appear submissive in the least. They too were staring at me, as if ready to pounce. There was no denying that these two MC clubs had a very powerful bond. I hoped to someday learn the history.

Lynx removed the man-sized painting, set it on the floor. He leaned it against the wall to the left, then again worked the remote in his pajama pants pocket. The whole narrow hallway wall slid to the left, disappearing like a pocket door. Beyond the opening was a very small lit room, the same width of the hallway. It resembled a security scanning area in some sort of secret area of a building, like what you would see in the movies.

Lynx walked in. Taking up most of the space, he faced the wall in front of us and waited. “Welcome to another secret, Giver. Come on.”

I followed him in. The door-wall slid shut behind me.

Like the first wall, this next one slid to the side, disappearing. Lynx walked into an identical room, then waited while facing yet another wall. “This is all done to control the odor. We get raided from time to time.”

Not saying a word, I followed, being closed in again. I wondered what the hell he was talking about, but when the next wall opened, I understood. An extensive, specially-lit room exposed rows and rows of tall marijuana plants. There had to be a hundred of them. “Holy. Shit.”

He chuckled. “Yeah. This is a favorite room for most of us.”

To the right was a station with some tools, a water hose, and bags of topsoil.

I followed him as he walked off to the right. Along that whole wall was a table full of plastic sandwich bags packed with processed plants. Lynx picked one up. “We don’t fuck around. Our shit is badass. Potent as fuck. Don’t do more than two hits to get ya started.” He tossed the bag to me. “That’s for Saint. It helps that beautiful-hearted girl in his arms.” He tossed another one. “That one is for you.”

I stared at it. Tucker never smoked it. That meant I hadn’t either. “You think I need it?”

He leaned back against the table and crossed his thick arms. After staring at me for a few moments, he finally said, “Dick smokes it with Justice.”

My shoulders grew with anger and jealousy as I inhaled deeply, trying not to blow a fuse.