Rise to Power (Motorcycle Club Romance) (Dead Men Motorcycle Club) Read online

  Once Jarhead was twisting in the wind, desperate for a way out, Martin would have to step up to the plate for real. We’d go to the other side of town and talk to that prick Joseph who was running Mako. We’d say all the right things and tell him that the Dead Men wouldn’t be any trouble for him. Then we’d play the one card left in our hand – we’d offer him tribute. It wasn’t the most attractive option available, but it was the one most guaranteed to result in keeping our skins.

  The idea of submitting the club to Mako like that made my stomach turn, but things can change over time. So long as we survive the current crisis, we’ll have plenty of time to arrange a new deal. Before that, we’d have to deal with Jarhead. Mako would never accept the deal if he was still in charge, and he won’t give up easily. Forcing him out and making him leave town would be the easiest way to deal with things, but I had my doubts about whether we could risk him surviving at all. Who’s to say he wouldn’t go running down south to talk to his new buddy Cash. He could have the Northern California Dead Men branded as a renegade chapter and then we’d be right back where we started – with one foot in the grave.

  Convincing Martin that Jarhead needed to die was a problem for another day. I had to hope that once he had a taste of power, he’d get a taste for blood to go with it. If we kill him, we’d be crossing a line. The way I saw it, though, crossing lines was the only way to come out of this alive.

  I grabbed my phone off of the coffee table and sent a text message to Martin. He’d been gone more than an hour and I was hoping for an update.

  What’s happening? I sent.

  I stared at the phone for a few seconds, waiting for a response. That moment of anticipation was absolutely nerve wracking. We were barely begun, but I knew that this plan was deadly serious already. Even Jarhead knew that much. He’d sent Martin and Rik in broad daylight because he was worried that Mako already knew about the guns. For all we knew, they had been walking into an ambush and the man of my life was already dead in some shitty warehouse.

  Worse still, what if Rik was more of a loyalist than I’d ever imagined. What if he’d turned Martin in? What if he’d gone even further and killed him as soon as he heard the plan. Everything could go wrong, and we were working with volatile people who were capable of a lot of terrible things. I found myself wishing – not for the first time – that I could wear the cut myself. I was happy to be out of harm’s way, but even I had a sting of pride telling me that sending my man off to take the big risks for me was weak dealing. What other option did I have, though? I’m a modern woman and I believe I’m every bit as good as a man, but I was working within a system that didn’t share my view. To a biker, women are useful and even important, but never equals. They might die for us, but that doesn’t mean they think we’re capable of doing what they do. It’s a load of bullshit, but changing the state of gender relations amongst bike clubs was a far loftier goal than I had in mind.

  My phone buzzed in my hand and I tore myself away from my thoughts to read the message.

  On the East side, storing them, home soon

  I let out a sigh of relief. It was a short message, but it told me everything I needed to know. The guns had been where they were supposed to be and Rik was going along with the plan. Martin was coming home and for now, at least, I could rest easy. I sat back on the sofa and did exactly that. Now I just had to figure out what surprise I’d promised Martin would be waiting for him at home.

  Half an hour later I heard the roar of a motorcycle coming into range. I held my breath for a moment, as I always did, waiting for it to stop or continue on. When it got close enough, I knew it was Martin returning to me. When the engine cut in front of the apartment, I finally let myself breathe normally, certain that my man had returned.

  When he walked into the apartment, I was off the sofa immediately, ready to greet him on his return. I was all smiles, but his expression was sullen.

  “What happened?” I asked him, certain in that moment that something had gone terribly wrong.

  He proceeded directly the couch without answering me and slumped down in a heap before meeting my eyes. I was terrified at what he might say next, but held my tongue.

  “Rik’s an asshole is all,” he said.

  “What happened?”

  “I did like you said,” he explained. “I told him that Mako was going to wipe us out and our only choice was to deal. But then before I could even try to convince him the rest of the way, it was like he was taking over. Stashing the guns East was his idea. He said he’d been thinking of it all along but wasn’t sure if I’d go for it. Now it’s like he’s the one who’s in charge, not me.”

  “Fuck,” I said, slumping down next to him. This wasn’t something I’d counted on at all. I had to think fast or I was going to lose everything I’d been working towards – with Martin and the club both.

  “Well,” I started to say, “Let’s look at the positive, here. Rik’s doing what we wanted, just not in the way we wanted. The way I see it, he’s upped our timetable is all.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well if you’re here, then I take it Rik’s gone to the clubhouse to explain the lack of guns to Jarhead, right?”

  “Yeah, I told him I promised you I’d be home.”

  “Good,” I said. “Jarhead’s going to go off on him, but nothing will come of it. It means he’s not going to be taking any chances for a little while, though. He’s going to lay low until Jarhead forgets about those guns.”

  “So what are you saying?”

  “I’m saying we need to go talk to Mako – right now.”

  “NOW?!” he said, pushing back from me on the sofa.

  “Yes, Martin,” I told him firmly, “right now. With Rik back at the clubhouse and Jarhead scrambling for weapons, we don’t have long before we completely lose control of the situation. I had wanted to wait a day or two before we moved, but Rik blew that all to hell. When you make the deal and come back to the clubhouse with it, Rik’s not going to have any choice but to fall in line. It’s not like he can claim it was his idea all along when you’re the one putting your neck out.”

  “Yeah, you’re right,” he said. “He couldn’t turn back on it, either – we’ll have the guns and he can’t explain to Jarhead where they came from without being exposed.”

  “Exactly,” I told him. “I hope your bike is gassed up because we’re hitting the docks. That surprise will just have to wait.”

  Martin’s eyes lit up and I realized he hadn’t even remembered what I’d promised him. I leaned in and kissed him passionately, taking in his breath and the feeling his body beneath my fingers. I wanted to show him with my touch that everything was going to be alright.

  He stood up from the couch first. I stared up at him for a moment, enjoying the view of him towering over me, full of fire and determination.

  “Let’s go meet a shark,” he said, lifting me from the sofa by the hand.

  CHAPTER 5

  THE WARM, HUMID AIR of the city in summer pushed around us as the bike moved through the street. I was more nervous than I was letting on, but I knew I couldn’t let Martin know it. The last thing I needed was him backing out now. If Rik took over and made a move of his own, Martin and I would be stuck playing second fiddle to him forever. That’s if he could even get the job done. It had to be done our way and it had to be done now.

  We were headed west towards the docks. It wasn’t hard to find Mako when you were looking for them. Everyone in town knew that Joseph was holding court at one of the dock bars every night. We hadn’t had a single potential recruit ever since word started spreading that Mako was taking all comers. With an offer like that, they had to have a public place to meet. The Sand Shelf was it. I’d always heard that once upon a time it was a classy bar that catered mostly to tourists. The tourism dried up and the industry on the docks expanded, though, and now it was fit squarely between a handful of salt-blasted buildings that were probably full of fish and abandoned cargo.

>   I held myself tight around Martin’s muscular frame. I was doing everything I could to lose myself in the moment before we reached our destination. Riding like this was what had sold me on the Dead Men in the first place. More than that, it was on this bike that I’d first fallen for Martin. All it had taken was one ride and I went from a wide-eyed girl with dreams of feeling the breeze in her hair to a hard-as-nails biker chick in training. I loved that image, and I’d done everything I could to cultivate it. From my own leather jacket to the tattoo on my back featuring my own rendition of the Dead Man, I was a biker through and through. There was no fear in me when I was riding behind Martin. This is where I belonged, and I couldn’t imagine giving up on it.

  We pulled up outside the bar and Martin walked his bike in next to another at the end of a row. From the looks of it, the place was packed – and most of them were Mako. A dozen shining bikes stood in the row. There wasn’t anyone outside watching them and for a second I thought about what it would take to send them all crashing into the ocean. I laughed that idea off as quickly as it appeared, though. We were here to prevent a war, not to start one.

  I climbed off the bike and waited for Martin to take the lead. If he was going to have the right kind of clout to be taken seriously, I couldn’t exactly hold his hand. He was going to have to show Joseph – and me – just what kind of man he could be. He’d done alright with Rik, but I was worried the there was something he wasn’t telling me. What if Rik hadn’t been as forceful as he said? What if it was Martin who had chickened out and let Rik take over? There was no time to discover the truth now. The way I saw it, we had less than an hour before Jarhead was going to be calling all over and sending the Dead Men out looking for weapons in all the wrong places. We had to have this deal in the bag before that happened or there would be too many uncomfortable questions.

  We walked towards the front door of the bar slowly. I could tell that Martin was scanning the front of the building, already looking for trouble that might be waiting for us. I was glad to see that the changes in him had also accounted for an increased wariness in situations like this. I wouldn’t have called him reckless before, but he wasn’t exactly known for planning ahead, either. With as much time as we’d spent worrying over retribution from within the club, we had to remember that Mako was dangerous. There was no guarantee that they wouldn’t just dump us in the ocean on first sight. The thought was chilling, but we’d made our bed – it was time to lay down with the enemy.

  Inside the bar, a wall of noise hit me immediately. The whole room was full of music, laughter, spilled beer and smoke – despite the regulations. I had a small smile for that. It was a reminder about what being a biker was all about. We didn’t choose this life so we could skirt the laws that society was formed on. We chose it so we could live life to the fullest, even in the face of annoying regulations like smoking bans and speed limits. Those things may seem small, but you have to understand what they amount to as a whole. We live our lives surrounded by small rules. When you decide they don’t apply to you, the freedom that fills you is the most incredible thing you can imagine.

  I knew Joseph would be at the back – kingpins in the making always were. The front of the bar was nothing but locals and dockworkers. Some of them were trying to ingratiate themselves with Mako, but most were just looking to let off some steam after a day’s work. If things turned ugly, it was hard to know what people like that would do. Their allegiance wasn’t to one club or another – it was to this place. Ordinary people are the ultimate peacekeepers and innocent bystanders are often better at keeping things from getting out of hand than a silver tongue.

  At the back of the bar we found a pair of Mako bikers - wearing their jackets despite the heat – standing guard. They were talking in low tones about something, but when they saw us coming all conversation ceased. They’d spotted Martin’s jacket immediately and knew that this was more than happenstance.

  “What do you want, Dead Man?” the gun the left said. He was nearly as tall as Martin, but rail thin. Like most of the Mako guys, he was from down south or across the sea. Up here in Northern California, race relations are a bit better represented than you might have seen on TV. Motorcycle clubs are big business and that means little things like the color of your skin take second place to making money. I couldn’t help but notice his phrasing, though. Were the Mako already planning a wake for the Dead Men? If Joseph thought he had the situation in hand, then we might be out of luck convincing him to act otherwise.

  “Here to see Joseph,” Martin said, looking down at the other man. His arms were at his side and his muscles were loose. Martin was a big, strong guy and he was smart enough to know when to look like less of a threat. When you’re six and a half feet of muscle that can be a challenge, but it’s all about posture. “I’ve got a proposition that he’s going to want to hear,” he concluded.

  The thin man looked to his partner and nodded, before heading back to where the rest of the club seemed to be sitting. I could barely see past the throng of bikers and women crowding into the rear of the bar. Somewhere back there, Joseph was sitting. I hoped he was in a good mood.

  A minute later the thin man returned and said, “Alright, go on back. He’s waiting for you.”

  We pushed our way through the crowd. All eyes were turned in one direction and I knew that when we reached the end, we’d find our target. Some part of me had been hoping for a private audience, but I knew that was just wishful thinking. We were going to have to perform on the most dangerous stage of all – with the rest of Joseph’s gang watching. There would be no dealing under the table here tonight. If we couldn’t convince Mako as a whole, we might not walk out of there with our lives intact.

  I knew Joseph by reputation, not by sight. It was obvious when we found him though. He was sitting at the rear corner of a large table that was half scantily clad women and half bikers. When we approached, they all dropped into silence. The girls took their leave without being asked, apparently used to being shooed away for important discussions. I wasn’t going to let myself be pushed out so easily though, and I watched them go without batting an eyelash. One of the girls gave me a hard stare as she walked past me. She was sizing me up like I was her competition. Little did she know that I was playing in a whole other league.

  “Sit down,” Joseph said loudly. His voice wasn’t entirely uncourteous, but you could still tell that he wasn’t happy to see us here. What we had to bring to him was either good news or bad news. When you ride with a motorcycle club, you usually expect the latter.

  I studied his face as we took our seats to his left. He was younger than I expected – not older than thirty, certainly. He had jet black hair that betrayed a continental origin somewhere in Europe, and olive skin than would have made him stand out like a sore thumb amongst the Dead Men. He was clean shaven and everything about his appearance gave me the distinct impression that he was no slob. That can be something of a rarity in our circles.

  “What are your names?” he asked. “My man failed to ask you as he should have.”

  “Martin, and this is Leyla,” my man said, motioning to me gently.

  “And what can I do for you, Martin and Leyla?” he asked. He was already tenting his fingers, looking every bit the criminal mastermind. If he had a corner office in a skyscraper you could believe that he was controlling the fate of billion dollar corporations rather than trading in street thugs and second hand weapons.

  Martin got right to the point, just as I was hoping he would. “We’re looking to make a deal on behalf of the Dead Men. We make peace here today and nobody else has to get hurt.”

  The cold war between Mako and the Dead Men had taken its toll. Only one man had been killed – one of theirs – but there were injuries and countless damaged properties to consider. Appealing to his desire for prosperity was an easy route, but not one that had much chance of success. Still, it was better to try than move right to groveling.

  “I think you’re mistaken about wh
ere the hurt is going to land if you Dead Men continue to bother me,” Joseph said in a tone that was quickly turning sour. Around the table, there were low murmurs of agreement. Evidently they weren’t giving us very good odds in this conflict.

  “All the same,” Martin said, cutting off any further showboating, “There’s no reason we have to keep doing this. You’ve got the guns on lockdown and there’s nothing we can do about it. All we want is to keep doing what business we have left to us in peace.”

  “And why am I hearing this from you, Martin?” Joseph said, clearly wanting to change the topic before further discussing whether there was any real chance of a deal. “As I understand it, you’re still following… what’s his name?”

  “Jarhead,” Martin said in a voice that was nearly a growl.

  “Him.”

  “He doesn’t know we’re here,” Martin said, laying our first big card on the table. Joseph’s eyes seemed to sparkle as he heard the words. Everything about his appearance and his environment had suggested to me that this was a man who loved his intrigues. I knew there was no way he could resist a move like ours.

  “Interesting,” he said. “I’m beginning to see what’s really happening here. You’re asking for a favor.”

  Martin stayed silent, looking coldly at Joseph. I was glad for that much as his temper was one of the biggest potential obstacles we could face in this meeting.

  “You don’t have to say it,” Joseph continued. “You’re not just looking for peace – you’re looking for Mako’s help in replacing that pathetic excuse for a leader you’ve been following the past few years.”

  “We’ve got our own plans on that account,” I chimed in, ready to make myself known at the meeting finally. Joseph needed to see that I was more than just arm candy or he’d never take me seriously in the future.