Page 114 of Start A War (Saint View Psychos)

WAR

The roar of motorcycle engines had droned on, nearly constantly, for the past two days while steady streams of riders arrived for my old man’s funeral. Hundreds of them turned up at the gate, got checked over by Fang, and then were let in. They were everywhere I looked from the little porch of my property, deep in the woods within the compound’s fences.

I hated it. I had a room at the clubhouse when I wanted to be around people, but the rest of the time, I spent in my cabin. It was far enough away that I didn’t hear the noise of the other guys in the club, but with hundreds of extras, there was no hiding from people.

I stifled a groan as another figure strode through the trees surrounding me.

“Hey, Prez.”

At least it was just Hawk.

“I wish you wouldn’t call me that.”

Hawk rolled his eyes. “I’ll go back to ‘hey, fuckhead’ after everybody has left, but until then, you’re the prez, so quit being a whiny bitch and get used to it.”

I sniggered. “Fine. What do you want? Or you just out here, lurking around like a Peeping Tom, hoping to get a glimpse of my dick when I get changed?”

Hawk didn’t even bother responding to that. We were so used to each other’s ribbing. “We got a problem.”

I groaned. “Twelve hours ’til the funeral, so of course something has to go wrong. What now?”

“One of the Saint View Sinners is at the gate. Wants to talk to you.”

I blinked at him. “Does he have a death wish? Does he not know we have three hundred members here right now?”

Hawk lifted a shoulder. “I think he knows. It’d be near impossible not to with all the fucking racket they’re making. You can probably hear us from the main road.”

“You think he’s a spy?” I wouldn’t put anything past the rival club, though I used the term ‘club’ loosely. They were wannabe gangbangers for the most part. Mostly, they stuck to their side of town, and we stuck to ours.

Hawk shrugged. “Not a very good one since he walked right up to the gate and asked for you.”

I groaned. “Fine. I’m coming.”

I pulled my boots back on, not bothering to do up the laces, and trudged along the path that led to the front of the compound with Hawk by my side.

“How’s your shiner?”

I shot him a dirty look. “Do you want me to give you one of your own?”

His laughter mingled with the noises coming from ahead of us. “I’m never gonna forget walking into that room and seeing you laid out flat on the floor with your dick still hard and your pants around your ankles. Of all the places to get jumped, the great War Maynard goes down when he’s dick-deep in some ho.”

I shoved him so hard he stumbled the right. “It was Bliss. And she’s not a fucking ho. Don’t ever call her that.”

Hawk raised an eyebrow. “Touchy, touchy. I hope her pussy was worth it.”

We kept walking, and I started planning how I’d kill my best friend because the asshole kept fucking laughing.

She’d been worth it. The single punch to the face hadn’t been my favorite way to end an evening, and Hawk and Nash had hustled me out of there without even saying goodbye to Bliss. I hadn’t seen her since, but I’d been reliving the feel of her wrapped around my cock. If I didn’t have three hundred unwanted visitors, I would be camped out on her doorstep, begging her for another round.

People called out to me as we passed the clubhouse. I waved or nodded at them in acknowledgement but ignored their offers of drinks, smokes, food, and pussy.

Drinks, smokes, and food would be plenty tomorrow after the funeral. I’d socialize then.

As for pussy, unless it was Bliss’s, I wasn’t interested.

Fang grunted in our direction when we arrived at the gate and pointed at the short, weedy-looking guy on the other side. “I gave him the option to leave. Multiple times. He’s still here.”

“You check him for weapons?”

---