Page 1 of Trident: Mayhem Makers

Chapter One

Saturday, 4 July 2020

Jacie

My face burned hot with embarrassment and frustration as the cute guy I’d been flirting with took off like his arse was on fire after my big brother, Taz, had growled something to him. Most likely a threat that involved bodily harm.

“I cannot believe I moved halfway around the world to be closer to him. How could he do this to me? And at my birthday party!”

Flick, my heavily pregnant sister-in-law, winced as she shrugged a shoulder, then wrapped the arm not cradling her rounded belly around my waist and guided me across the Charon MC clubhouse yard toward her friends. The ladies were standing only a meter or so from the rear entrance to the clubhouse, no doubt because they all seemed to be as pregnant as Flick, and probably didn’t want to be too far from the toilets.

“For starters, as you’re well aware, this ain’t your birthday party, sis. It’s a Charon and Satan’s Cowboys joint club Independence Day barbecue. Sadly, now that you live here in the States, you gotta share your birthday with Fourth of July celebrations.”

I also, apparently, got to spend my birthday surrounded by pregnant women to rub in the fact that, according to my brother, I wasn’t allowed to even talk to a damn man. Finding a man to settle down with and maybe have my own bloody family like Taz been able to do was definitely out of the question.

Trying to focus on the positive, I glanced toward the setting sun that was painting the sky a beautiful array of colors.

“At least it’s warm. July is winter in Australia, and it’s pretty much always rained on my birthday.”

Flick laughed. “Chances of us getting rain here in Texas, in July, is pretty damn slim, so no worries there. But seriously, Jacie, Taz is always going to see you as his precious baby sister. And he’s always going to want to protect you, especially at a party this big with so many single men here looking to celebrate.”

She didn’t need to say out loud that the biggest reason he was so up in my business was because he’d believed I’d been dead for the past twenty-three years. But while I totally understood why he’d be extra protective now he’d learned I was alive and well, it didn’t make it any less annoying.

“But I’m a grown arse adult! And I’ve been living here for over eight months now. He needs to get over it already. How the fuck am I ever going to have a life if he keeps this shit up?”

As I wondered if maybe I’d have to move away from Bridgewater and just come for visits, tears burned the backs of my eyes, but I forced them away, along with that thought.

Silk, who was the old lady of one of Taz’s best mates, Eagle, rubbed her hand over her large belly as she snorted out a short laugh. “Oh, honey, I hear you. Try growing up here with your uncle as the VP. You gotta get real sneaky if you want a sex life. On the upside, when a guy does stick around, you know he’s for real because no man is gonna put up with this many overbearing, overprotective brothers if they’re not damn serious about you. Welcome to being a Daughter of the Club, doll.”

When she gazed over toward her man, her expression softening and going all gooey, I turned away with a huff. It wasn’t fair that I had to be surrounded by all these loved up women when I wasn’t allowed even a chance to find the same. Zara, Mac’s old lady, who was, naturally, also pregnant, handed me a bottle of beer with a sympathetic smile.

“Only reason you got as far as you did with that prospect was because he’s a newbie. And you’re not wearing a cut.”

I screwed up my nose after I took a long swig of the cold brew.

“And that’s why I’m refusing to have a vest. Cut. Whatever you want to call it. I am not a Daughter of the Club, and I’m definitely not going to allow my brother, or any other man for that matter, to brand me as his property. No way, no how.”

I couldn’t understand why so many of the wives in the club happily let their men ‘patch’ them. Nope. That was not going to be my life. I was an all modern, independent woman. I even rode my own bike. No riding bitch behind some bloke for me.

Zara chuckled. “Babe, you’re a Daughter of the Club. You don’t need to be wearing the patch for that to be true. And honestly? Taz would probably be on your case a lot less if you agreed to wear one. Being property of a brother in a club is about protection, not ownership. It’s him declaring to the world that you’re loved and cared for.”

Rolling my eyes, I took another long drink. Beer was not going to be strong enough to get me through this evening. “Nope, I’m pretty sure it’s the ownership thing. And Taz wouldn’t need to be all over me like white on rice. Every man involved in the club would see that little patch with the heart wrapped in barbed wire on it, turn tail and run. Any bloke not in the club would see the Charon MC patch on the back and do the same bloody thing.”

After draining the last of my beer, I broke away from the women, tossing my now empty bottle into a trash can. “I’m heading in to get something stronger. Back in a bit.”

Maybe, I added silently to myself. With the weather being so nice, and the fact there were plenty of drinks and food out here, I doubted anyone would be inside. I could just claim abooth in the main room and drink myself stupid all by my lonesome in a dark corner.

Before any of them could stop me, I headed inside, wishing my girls Nevaeh, Mirabelle and Sparrow were here. The old ladies were great and all, but they were in a different phase of their lives than I was, popping out babies and settling down. Since it was becoming obvious I wouldn’t be joining them any time soon, I figured I’d focus on simply having some fun and messing around. And I was pretty sure Nevaeh, Mirabelle and Sparrow felt the same way. Well, after all the abuse and torture Mirabelle had been through, she was all about having fun that didn’t involve men at all, which was fine with us. We’d always take care of her. But sadly, my trio of besties were all on childcare duties tonight. If it hadn’t been my birthday, I’d have joined them in looking after all the babies and kids of the club and earning some cash. Instead, I was here celebrating my twenty-sixth birthday without my girl crew.

Making my way down the hallway, I shook those thoughts away. Next weekend would be my real birthday celebration. There was a massive book signing happening up in Dallas: “MMM: Motorcycles, Mobsters & Mayhem.” The four of us were heading up there for a girls’ weekend. It was going to be epic, and I was crazy excited to meet several of my favorite authors, along with, hopefully, some of their hunky cover models. Pretend bikers and mobsters were so much safer to drool over than real ones. Especially since Taz would be back here in Bridgewater fussing over his pregnant wife and far away from me in Dallas.

Sliding onto a stool at the bar, I ran my gaze over the prospect that stood behind it. Not too shabby at all, but his wide-eyed expression told me what I needed to know. Unlike the last one, this prospect knew who I was.

“Hey, Jacie, uh, what can I get for you? You know there’s beer and wine and shit out the back, yeah?”

Rolling my eyes on a sigh, I shook my head. “Just make me an Old Fashioned, and I’ll go sit over on the other side of the room, far away from you so you don’t need to fear Taz coming after you.”

He rubbed a palm over the back of his neck. “Uh, well, you know most of the brothers just want straight up liquor. I got no clue how to make any fancy shit.”

---