Page 1 of Bloody Jack's Treat
Chapter 1
Bloody Jack
“Anypartyin’youbastardsplan on doin’ better be durin’ the fuckin’ day.”I didn’t have the patience for this fuckin’ shit.The Copperhead MC from the underbelly of Rockwell, Illinois was nipping at my supply chains like a fucking piranha.Fuckin’ bastards annoyed the piss outta me in the extreme.Their fucking with my shipments stung like a son of a bitch, but were mostly harmless.But the braver they got the more it stung.With tonight being Hell Night, the night before Halloween, most mischief would be happening in the city tonight.There was a tight itch between my shoulder blades telling me I needed the club on alert.
I sat at the bar, nursing my third whiskey and scowling at the paper skeletons some idiot had strung up across the ceiling beams.The Hell Night party I'd warned against was in full fucking swing anyway, and the clubhouse pulsed with bass-heavy music that made my teeth ache.Halloween had always been a bullshit holiday, but tonight it felt like an invitation for trouble with the Copperheads circling our territory like the venomous bastards they were.
"Another one, Prez?"Kneecap, one of the prospects tending bar, held up the bottle of Jack Daniels.His fresh club tattoo peeked out from beneath his rolled-up sleeve.
I pushed my glass forward, turned it upside down, and shook my head."Coffee."
Kneecap raised an eyebrow but didn’t hesitate to pour a cup.Black.The stout brew burned a familiar path down my throat as I surveyed our clubhouse.I suppose it wasn’t as bad as it could be.There had been years when the club whores took over and the decorations got out of hand.Normally, I’d have happily retreated to my office and let the mayhem go on its merry way, but I never ignored that itch between my shoulders.If something happened tonight, I intended to be ready.
The main room had people everywhere.Crowded as shit.Brothers, their old ladies, and the usual rotating cast of club girls looking for a night with a patch holder.Cigarette smoke hung thick, mingling with the scents of motor oil, sweat and beer.
My phone vibrated against my thigh.I pulled it out, checking the message from Reaper, one of my scouts watching the south border of our territory.
All quiet.No snakes in sight.
I texted back a simple “K” and pocketed the phone.Five other scouts were positioned strategically around Rockwell, each with orders to report any Copperhead movement.So far, nothing, but that knot between my shoulder blades only tightened.Fifteen years in this life had taught me to trust that feeling more than any scout report.
The heavy front door swung open, and the October chill swept in, carrying with it a vision that had me squinting my eyes and leaning forward to make sure I was seeing her properly.I'd seen plenty of women come through that door — club girls with their tits hanging out, old ladies marking their territory, even the occasional lost soul looking to score.But this woman?No.She didn't belong.
She wore a black leather corset that hugged curves I wanted to map with my tongue, paired with tight pants that said "good girl playing dress up" louder than if she'd screamed it.It wasn’t so much in the outfit, though.More the way she wore it.Like she was trying to convince herself not to be self conscious.I doubt she’d ever worn anything remotely similar to the get up she had on now.
Her hair fell in honey-blonde waves past her shoulders, and even from across the room, I could see her wide eyes taking in the chaos around her.Red lips parted in shock before she swallowed and put her shoulders back.Brave little thing.If she was twenty-one, it wasn’t a day over.
Wren, my VP, Ghost’s ward and the hellion of the club, appeared beside the newcomer, her purple hair bright under the dim lights.She landed a gentle punch on the blonde's shoulder and laughed."About fucking time you showed up, Honey."Wren's voice carried over the music."Thought you'd chicken out."
Honey.OK, this must be Wren's friend from that coffee shop.She’d asked permission for Honey to attend the party and Ghost had agreed.The girl rubbed her arms, her smile nervous but genuine."I almost did.Three times."
I'd heard Wren mention her, but seeing her in the flesh was something else entirely.Farm girl turned barista.Mother recently dead.Father not in the picture.Innocent as they come.Exactly the type that should run screaming from our world.I was going to have to have Ghost talk to Wren.This would be the last time little Honey got inside the compound.
Honey's gaze traveled around the room, taking in our MC insignia on the wall, the rough looking men throwing back shots, the women in various states of undress.I watched her swallow hard, her throat working in a way that made my cock tighten behind my jeans.When her eyes finally landed on me, the room seemed to narrow to just the two of us.
She wasn’t far away, maybe three arm lengths.Two good strides and I could have her in my arms.Those eyes… Christ!They were actually the color of honey, warm amber flecked with gold.They widened when they met mine, her lips still parted.I felt the impact like a punch to the gut.
I'd had plenty of women over the years.Quick fucks in the back room.Convenient arrangements with club girls who knew the score.But not one of them had ever looked at me the way this one did, like she was seeing something that both terrified and fascinated her in equal measure.She didn’t look at me with greedy eyes like every other woman in my life had.This girl wasn’t interested in landing the president of Bound in Blood MC.
Kneecap slid another coffee in front of me, breaking the moment."That Wren's friend?The one she's been trying to drag in here for months?"
I grunted, not taking my eyes off her."Yeah."
"She's out of her depth."
"No fuckin’ shit."I took another sip of coffee, feeling the burn in my gut less than the look in her eyes had.
Across the room, Wren was dragging Honey toward the makeshift dance floor, but the blonde's gaze kept darting back in my direction, like she sensed a predator and was reluctant to shift her attention away from me.Each time our eyes connected, something electric passed between us.My irritation at the party, at the looming threat from the Copperheads, at the whole fucking world, began to shift into something else.Something hungry and possessive.And not at all fucking welcome.Watching her move awkwardly to the music, her body stiff with nerves, I couldn't help but imagine how she'd move under me, how that sweetness would taste on my tongue.Yeah.I could get her to loosen up.
Mine.
The thought came unbidden, primal and absolute.I didn't know her, hadn't even spoken a word to her, but something in my gut, the same instinct that had kept me alive all these years, told me she was meant to be mine.
The party raged on around us, but I stayed rooted to my spot at the bar, watching her like the predator I was.Only I didn't want to devour her.Well, not in the way that would destroy her.I wanted to consume her, yes, but also keep her.Protect her.
When she looked at me again, I didn't bother hiding my interest.I let my gaze travel deliberately over her body before meeting her eyes again.The blush that spread across her cheeks was like fire catching on dry kindling, and I felt an answering heat surge through my veins straight to my cock.
The timing could be a lot fucking better.I didn’t need this distraction but I wasn’t sure I could resist her.At least, not tonight.Assuming things didn’t go all to shit in the next twenty-four hours, I could get her in my bed tonight, let her sleep tomorrow while I set things in motion to take the head of the Copperheads.After that, I’d see how long I intended to keep her.
