Page 1 of Sever
Chapter One
Tracker
The night air was cool against my face as I sped through town toward a destination I wasn’t even sure I wanted to go. With every intersection, every roundabout, every set of lights, my gut twisted, telling me to turn around. To leave. Disappear and never come back.
The club I’d been a part of had been run by idiots who didn’t know their asses from their goddamn brains. They ran the club into the ground, eventually teaming up with some crazy idiots that tried to demolish the Deathstalkers MC.
They failed miserably.
And the handful of us who weren’t in on the plan woke up the next day to guns in our faces and an ultimatum.
Pledge our loyalty, or die.
There were five of us. Five who hadn’t tried to fight a battle there was no chance of winning. I wasn’t sure how many would come, but this club is established. They have their shit together, not like the bullshit organization we were conned into joining. Marcus, our now deceased president, was basically a glorified drug dealer.
The five of us met on the streets. In a way, we had formed our own crew, and we all joined the MC around the same time. Marcus offered us all cuts if we joined the club; no prospect time, no bitch work. It sounded too good to be true.
It was.
We went on runs, got a percentage of the take. We thought we had it good. It was enough to keep us comfortable and the work wasn’t too hard. After talking to the officers from the Deathstalkers, we realized that we’d been robbed. Coming here we will be taking home twice what we were before.
Rock, Colt, Storm, Gunner, and I are getting a new start.
This time I'm not letting anything fuck it up.
The problem is that, as much as I wanted a new start, I sure as hell didn't want it in this town.
The moment I turned eighteen, I ran.
I ran as far and as fast as I could.
I ran to achieve the freedom I always wanted.
I also ran fromher.
She was the only person in my life who had ever made me feel something. Some might have thought I should have held on to that. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t take the chance that she would turn out to be like every other person in my life.
I tried to push her away, but she had this intense energy that pulled me to her.
I should have listened to my first instinct though and stayed far away from her.
I pull up to the clubhouse, slowing down to weave through the ton of bikes parked in the car park. That makes sense. They said there would be church once we arrived so that the rules could be stated and we knew what would be expected of us.
Getting off my bike, I look around at what is supposed to be my new home. “You guys ready for this?”
I glance at the only men I have let myself count on for the past seven years.
“Already looking better than that dump we called a clubhouse,” Rock says, climbing off his bike.
The doors open and the pres and VP come walking toward us. Handshakes are exchanged before the pres takes a couple steps back. “Welcome. The brothers are waiting in church. Follow me.”
They turn and we walk behind them. The clubhouse is large and open, tables are scattered around a bar that lines one wall, and half-dressed women smile at me from the couple couches and chairs placed in the middle of the room. There are even two pool tables in one corner, balls still on the table, cues tossed to one side as if something happened mid-game.
We walk down a hallway and end up at a large room. There is a large oval table lined with chairs, those chairs occupied by men who look anything but inviting. Their hard faces study us as if we have come somewhere that we aren’t welcome.
All eyes are on us, but I learned long ago never to show you’re intimated. It makes you look weak.
And in this life, you never want people to see your weaknesses.
