Zero Tolerance Read online

  South of Satan MC: A few members made a brief appearance in Beyond Reckless. We don’t know much about them or what their intentions are.

  * * *

  OTHER MC TERMINOLOGY

  Most terminology was obtained through research. However, I have also used some artistic license in applying these terms to my romanticized, fictional version of an Outlaw Motorcycle Club.

  Cage: A car, truck, van, basically anything other than a motorcycle.

  Church: Club meetings all full patch members must attend. Led by the president of the club, but officers will update the members on the areas they oversee.

  Citizen: Anyone not a hardcore biker or belonging to an outlaw club. “Citizen Wife” would refer to a spouse kept entirely separate from the club.

  Cut: Leather vest worn by outlaw bikers. Adorned with patches and artwork displaying the club’s unique colors. The Lost Kings’ colors are blue and gray. Their logo is a skull with a crown.

  Colors: The “uniform” of an outlaw motorcycle gang. A leather vest, with the three-piece club patch on the back, and various other patches relating to their role in the club. Colors belong to the club and are held sacred by all members.

  Dressers: Slang for a motorcycle “dressed up” with hard saddle bags and other accessories. It’s designed for long-distance riding.

  Fly Colors: To ride on a motorcycle wearing colors.

  Mother Chapter: First chapter of the club.

  Muffler Bunny: Club girl who hangs around to provide sexual favors to members.

  Nomad: A club member who does not belong to any specific charter, yet has privileges in all charters. Nomads go anywhere to take care of business, usually at the request of the club president.

  Old Lady/Ol’ Lady: Wife or steady girlfriend of a club member. Has nothing to do with her age.

  Out Bad: The shorthand way of saying a club member has been kicked out of the club for some kind of betrayal. Someone who is “out bad” might be in hiding from the club.

  Patched In: When a new member is approved for full membership.

  Patch Holder: A member who has been vetted through performing duties for the club as a prospect or probate and has earned his three-piece patch.

  Property Patch: When a member takes a woman as his Old Lady (wife status), he gives her a vest with a property patch. In my series, the vest has a "Property of Lost Kings MC” patch and the member’s road name on the back. The officers also place their patches on the ol’ lady’s vest as a sign they have agreed to always have her back. Her man’s patch or club symbol is placed over the heart.

  Road Name: Nickname. Usually given by the other members.

  RUB: Slang for Rich Urban Biker. A term generally used by real bikers to describe a person who rides an expensive motorcycle on weekends and never very far. A poser.

  Run: A club-sanctioned outing, sometimes with other chapters and/or clubs. Can also refer to a club business run.

  Dedication

  It hurts the most to lose the impossible.

  One

  Zero

  The all-I-can-fuck pussy buffet known as my life lost its shine a long time ago. Bikers are all about free and easy sex. And I’ll admit, I’ve overindulged my dick’s desires for years.

  And years.

  For instance, I slept with a woman on each side of me last night, yet wake up feeling utterly alone.

  All I ever think about is another woman. Not even the one I should probably be thinking about, my non-girlfriend, Stella.

  Nope, another woman. One in particular. One who slipped through my fingers almost three years ago.

  Lilly.

  I hate that fucking name.

  Thankfully, it’s not all that common.

  You know what else isn’t common? Beautiful brunettes, with long hair, long legs, big tits, and soul-wrenching brown eyes. A voice with the ability to harden my dick whether she’s telling me about her job or whispering dirty intentions in my ear. That woman is a goddamn mermaid—rare, beautiful, and slippery as fuck.

  A mermaid can’t be replaced. Not that I was trying to do that by starting something with my unavailable, not-girlfriend. Stella, the porn star who isn’t interested in slowing down her career so we can be exclusive.

  Which is how I ended up in bed with these two chicks last night.

  Thoroughly disgusted with myself, I’m trying to figure out just how big of an asshole it makes me to wake these girls up and kick them out of my room. Whoever helped them find their way to our MC’s clubhouse last night can take them home.

  Someone knocks on my bedroom door. Hopefully that will solve my dilemma for me.

  A quick glance at the clock motivates me out of bed even faster. It’s later than I usually start my day. Ziggy and Zipper need their morning run. Relying on one of my brothers to take care of the dogs is risky at best.

  I slip into a pair of shorts, open the door, and find Hope on the other side, nervously biting her lip and wringing her hands.

  “What’s wrong, Hope?”

  Finding my president’s wife outside my bedroom door isn’t a regular occurrence, so obviously something must be wrong.

  “Where’s Grace?” I ask, looking for my niece.

  She tilts her head toward the suite she and Rock shared before they moved out of the MC’s clubhouse and into their own home on the club’s property. “With Rock. She needed some Daddy time after our shopping spree.”

  “Can I see her?” Spending time with Grace is a sure way to lift the black cloud that settled over me the moment I woke up.

  “Of course you can,” she answers in her sweet, good-natured way. Never thought when I met her, she’d be the best president’s ol’ lady this club’s ever known. The briefest smile flickers over her lips. “Sparky and Ravage just took the dogs for a run. Or rather, the dogs took them…” Her voice trails off and she steps back, averting her eyes.

  A second later, I understand what made Hope so uncomfortable.

  Warm fingers trail up my side and wet lips tickle my ear. “You’re not coming back to bed?” one of the girls asks. Tanya? Tanisha? Shelby? Shawna? Fuck, I can’t remember either of their names.

  A second set of hands roam over my back and soft giggles roll out of her. “Come back to bed,” she coos. The syrupy voice makes my skin crawl. “We’re not done with you.”

  “Sorry, things to do.” Yeah, I’m irritated, but I’m not gonna take it out on either of them. Not their fault I’m an asshole. I glance back at Hope. “Give me a second?”

  “Sure.”

  I push the door closed, but don’t shut it all the way. Don’t want the girls to get the wrong idea. By the time I turn around, they’re both pulling on their tiny, stretchy dresses.

  “You sure we can’t convince you?” one girl asks with a big, fake pout that makes her look like a deranged duck.

  “Love to, but I can’t.”

  “Well, thanks for the good time,” the second girl says. “Next weekend?”

  “We’ll see.” That’s as good as a hell no from me and I think they both know it. They snatch their shoes up and march to the door.

  “Hi, Hope,” one of the girls says.

  “Morning, Staci, hey, Tyra,” Hope answers.

  Well, at least I had the first letters right.

  “Swan’s about to serve lunch if you want to help her out,” Hope suggests.

  Hope has to be the only old lady I’ve ever known to greet two club whores so politely while putting them to work.

  The smile Hope gives me after the girls leave is both sweet and sad. Fuck if shame doesn’t slither through my gut at the way she found me this morning. I bury my embarrassment with a crooked smile and sling my arm over her shoulders. Leaning in, I trace my finger over the crinkly spot between her eyebrows. “What put that frown there, First Lady?” I ask as I walk her down the hall.

  “Uh. Well…” she hedges.

  Shit, maybe today’s the day she’ll finally tell me how disgusting I am.

  Inst
ead, she slides her arm around me as we enter the bedroom. Rock’s sitting on the bed with the baby and glances up, narrowing his eyes at how close we’re standing to each other. Which is crazy. Hope doesn’t have eyes for anyone but Rock. And to me, she’s a sister. Someone I’d die to protect, but don’t have a single urge to fuck.

  Rock shoots a look to Hope and I don’t miss the slight head shake she gives him in return.

  I walk over and hold out my arms for the baby. “Can I say hi?”

  Right after Grace was born, the two of them went through this weird phase where they didn’t want anyone else holding her. They’ve moved past it, so Rock’s hesitance to hand Grace over surprises me. He relents and I take her, rocking her side to side. She’s a sweet, quiet baby. Totally different from Heidi’s daughter. She reaches up, tickling my cheek with her tiny fingers. “Hi baby,” I say softly.

  Grace smiles and coos, and I tickle her tummy. “Were you out shopping with Mommy?”

  She kicks her legs and babbles more playful noises.

  “So, what’s up?” When I glance at Hope again, I swear she’s got tears in her pretty green eyes. “Are you okay?”

  She spent a lot of time hormonal and teary when she was pregnant, which honestly just made me want to do whatever I could to make her happy. But her weepy phase has passed. At least I thought it had.

  Maybe they’re about to announce another baby is on the way? Although, why they’d tell me first doesn’t make a lot of sense.

  Rock stands and wraps his hand around his wife’s, giving her a gentle nudge.

  “I ran into Lilly,” she says finally.

  Lilly.

  Fuck.

  Grace lets out a happy-gurgling noise and kicks her tiny feet. Rock reaches out, plucking his daughter from my arms. “What?”

  Hope settles her hand on my arm, drawing my attention to her again.

  “I ran into Lilly today.”

  What a coincidence. I woke up with Lilly on my mind today.

  “Yeah? So?” My tone’s a lot gruffer than I’d normally use with Hope, but she seems to brush it off.

  “I think you should see her.”

  I snort. “No thanks.”

  Last time I saw Lilly I thought we were finally moving from fuck-buddies into an actual relationship—a first for me—but she had a different plan. One that didn’t include me. Took a long time and a lot of women for that sting to fade. No way am I putting myself out there with her again.

  I’m supremely fucking irritated at the curiosity rising in my chest. Of the way my mind automatically flashes to Lilly’s face. The desire to see her. Find out if she’s okay.

  Shit, I still fucking miss her. I suspect it’s some other emotion squeezing the air from my lungs. Whatever that uncomfortable warm, fuzzy emotion might be, I toss it in my mental freezer and padlock it shut.

  Hope wraps her fingers around my arm, a gentle pressure to capture my attention. “Z, you need to see her.”

  “Why? Wait, did she ask to see me?”

  “Sort of.”

  “What the fuck does that mean?”

  She bites her bottom lip and glances at Rock.

  “It’ll be easier if we go meet up with her.”

  I’d been so focused on Hope, I didn’t notice what Rock was up to. While I’m still reeling from the news that Lilly’s back, he’s busy packing up the baby’s things and grabbing his keys.

  “Come on,” he says.

  “Wait a fuckin’ minute.” My gaze darts between the two of them. “Tell me what the fuck is going on. Is she okay?”

  “She’s fine,” Hope assures me.

  Rock nudges me out of the room and down the stairs.

  I’m pissed, but also…curious.

  Why the hell would Lilly want to see me now? Does she even want to see me? Or do these two think now that Lilly’s back, it’s time to play matchmaker? I don’t think my pride can handle the last one.

  At the truck, Rock hands the baby to Hope, who arranges her in the car seat. She gives me one last look before hopping in the back with Grace.

  Rock takes me aside. With a hand to the chest, he pushes me against the truck. “You need to keep your cool.”

  Even for Rock—who tends to be one intense motherfucker—his behavior falls on the excessive side. “Tell me what’s going on, brother.”

  He glances at the closed door.

  “I don’t even know how to say it, Angus.”

  Whoa, it’s been a long time since Rock’s called me anything other than my road name. Or brother, pretty boy, or if he’s really in a mood, fuckface. “What?”

  He pinches the bridge of his nose and looks away for a second. “Lilly. Hope ran into her today.”

  “Yeah, she said that already. Twice. So what?”

  “There was someone with her.”

  “What, is she married now or something?” The words come out dripping with the sarcasm I intended, but I hate the sickness rising in my gut at the thought of Lilly with someone else.

  “No.”

  I’m missing something huge. And I don’t understand why Rock can’t spit it out. He’s usually blunt, to the point, and about as subtle as a sledgehammer.

  “Her brother? I’ve met him. What happened? Did he hit on Hope again? We going to kick his ass?”

  Rock doesn’t laugh or look like he has murder on his mind. Whatever it is must be bad.

  “Rock, is Lilly okay? She’s not hurt or something, is she?” I may hate her fucking guts, but I don’t want anything bad to happen to her either.

  “No.”

  “She hasn’t wanted to see me in over two years. Why the big hurry now?”

  “Hope ran into her with her…son.”

  The fact that Lilly has a kid with some other guy settles in my chest like a burning ball of fire. Especially when she always said she never wanted kids and never took me seriously when I told her how much I wanted a family.

  But that just shows you how fucking dense I am.

  “Okay?”

  “He’s…fuck!” Rock can’t even look at me for a few seconds. He squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head. A few seconds later, he opens his eyes, staring straight into mine.

  A second before he says the words, it finally hits me.

  “He’s your son, Z. We’re taking you to meet your son.”

  Two

  Lilly

  “This is a bad idea, Alex.”

  My brother hasn’t stopped pacing since we arrived at the park. I’m perched on top of a picnic table so I can watch Chance on the playground while Alex paces.

  “I can’t even look at you right now,” he says, voice tight with anger.

  His words hurt.

  It hurts that I’ve disappointed my brother so much. Disappointed myself. I have my reasons. They’re good ones. Ones I’ll never explain to Alex. Or anyone else. Not even Z. No matter how much I might want him not to hate me.

  “How could you not even tell him? You wouldn’t tell me who the father was but swore up and down he wanted nothing to do with Chance. Lilly, how could you?” He stabs his fingers into his hair. “Jesus Christ. It had to be that big biker thug. I swear if he even thinks of touching you—”

  “He’s not a thug,” I answer calmly. “And he wouldn’t hurt me.”

  “Then why?”

  “Mommy! Look!” Chance races over the rubber floor of the playground. His sneaker catches and he pitches forward. Alex dives for him, scooping him up and swinging him around. “What’cha got, kiddo?”

  Chance hands me a tiny pink and white pebble. “For Mommy.” He grins when he places it in my hand.

  “Ooo pretty. Thank you.”

  As I slip the stone in my pocket, a big black SUV pulls into the lot. My heart pounds. Z’s here.

  Sure enough, his best friend, Rock, climbs out first. I wonder what Hope told her husband. If she told him. I’ve always liked Rock. Respect him a lot for the reverent way he treats his wife. I don’t even think I can look him in the eye now. br />
  Z jumps out and storms across the grass, so fast it takes a few seconds for Rock to catch up to him, pull him back with a hand on his shoulder, and say something against his ear.

  Even though I lost the right, it’s impossible not to notice how gorgeous Z is. How much my heart still speeds up when he’s near. And not because I’m afraid of him.

  My gaze jumps to Hope, who steps out of the SUV, carrying her daughter.

  What a humiliating mess.

  Panic seizes my throat and I struggle to take a breath.

  It’s not Z, my brother, or anyone here bringing on the attack. It’s all the other memories of why I ended up here that threaten to consume me.

  Alex, of course, makes it worse by blocking Z’s path.

  But Z’s not looking at me or Alex. He’s completely focused on Chance.

  Wave after wave of guilt crashes over me, washing the panic away.

  This is happening.

  He’s here.

  My son’s about to meet his father.

  Z

  Alex is dangerously close to having his arm ripped off.

  “Move,” I demand, attempting to shove past him. Fucker slaps his palm against my chest, pushing me back. He’s a big dude. Easily my size.

  I could still drop him to the ground in one punch, but that’s not how I want to remember the day I met my son. Don’t want to make a scene in front of my boy and end up making him afraid of me either.

  “Easy,” Alex says.

  I get right up in his face. “Try and tell me that’s not my son.”

  His eyes close briefly. “I didn’t know she never told you.”

  That drains some of the fight out of me. Alex isn’t a fan of mine. Here I thought he helped Lilly hide my kid from me. “What?”