WOLF - Prequel Page 3

  “I’m sorry, boss, but Bruf wants you in the bar...now, both of you,” he said, looking at Manson. Wolf growled again, and the younger biker seemed to be stifling a shudder as he did. It was going to be another long fucking night.

  4

  Sabrina had a gun to her head. It was maybe at that moment when she realized just how fucked up her life was, and it wasn’t because she had a gun to her head. It was because it didn’t surprise her, or scare her. She didn’t care if he killed her. She was so tired, hungry, sick, and sore...at least if she was dead she could sleep. Instead of being terrified, she was checking out the man who was holding the gun. Maybe she had lost her mind in the process of everything that had happened over the past few days. But damn, this guy was hot. The younger guy who caught her trying to sneak in the gates around the shop was nice-looking, in a baby-faced sort of way...but the man now holding her life in his hands was masculinity personified. He could have been a centerfold in one of those magazines for women...or a dancer on that movie she’d sneaked out to go see when she was fourteen...Magic Mike. He had on a white t-shirt and a denim vest. The vest said his name was “Bruf” and it labeled him as “Sergeant-at-Arms.” His bare arms were swollen with muscles and dotted with tattoos. His shoulders were broader than the doorway behind him, and the t-shirt pulled tight across the muscles in his chest. She let her eyes fall below his vest and unabashedly checked him out below the belt. When she looked back up into his hazel eyes he had a half-smile on his face. He looked like he was about to say something when the younger man was suddenly back, followed by two other men.

  The man in front was big too...bigger than the hottie holding her hostage, and nice-looking in an almost animalistic sort of way. His face was almost completely covered in hair: a beard, mustache, and a thick shock on his head that made him look like a lion...or a wolf, she thought as she read what his vest said. “Wolf.” That made sense. The other man was much smaller, but his eyes were scary and for the first time since she’d been dragged around the shop and into the bar, Sabrina began to feel anxiety welling up in her chest. Maybe dying wouldn’t be so bad...but these guys looked like they could do a lot worse than kill her, and she was no fan of torture. She’d been down that road and she was where she was at because of it.

  “Who the fuck are you?” the hairy man growled. She studied his face. There was something in his brown eyes that looked almost like pain or agony, and that was when she noticed the bulky bandages underneath his t-shirt and the spot of blood that had leaked through and stained it dark red.

  “You’re bleeding.” He looked surprised when she spoke. He was probably expecting her to beg for her life. Sabrina had promised herself that she’d never do that again, no matter what. The big guy looked down at his shirt and muttered a “fuck” before looking back at Sabrina’s face. There was something on his face now that looked a little bit like recognition.

  “I asked you a question.”

  “Sabrina.” That’s all she said, and the three men looking at her waited for more. When more didn’t come, the one with “Wolf” and “Prez” stitched on his vest hardened his voice and said:

  “What the fuck were you doing sneaking around our shop? Who sent you here?”

  “No one sent me. I’m looking for my father.”

  The men all looked at each other. The only one even close to being old enough to be her father was the one with the crazy eyes. He shook his head, like he was denying he had anything to do with making a baby nineteen years earlier. Sabrina rolled her eyes. She knew Crazy Eyes wasn’t him...but she couldn’t help but wonder how many babies of his own he’d made and abandoned over the years.

  “Name,” Wolf said.

  “I told you—Sabrina.” The hot guy’s expression changed for the first time as he moved the gun the fraction of an inch it was away from her head and pressed it to her temple.

  “Enough of your smart mouth,” he said. “Answer his questions.”

  “Or you’ll put a bullet in my head?” she asked. She turned slightly, only causing the metal of the gun to dig deeper into the sensitive area of her head that it was touching, and she looked into his eyes. His gaze didn’t waver, and she wondered if he was as cold as he was pretending to be at that moment. Could he really pull the trigger and blow out the brains of a teenage girl without batting an eyelash? She got the feeling that he could...as long as the big one called Wolf ordered it.

  He didn’t answer her question, but Wolf did. “You have no idea what a fucked-up twenty-four hours I’ve had. I got no time for games, little girl, and if you don’t state your business here in about five seconds, Bruf there will put a bullet in your pretty little head, and by the time your body is hidden where no one will ever find it, I’ll be in bed with my old lady, sleeping like a baby. So, last chance. Who is this ‘father’ you’re looking for?”

  “He goes by the name of Coyote.” That at least got her a reaction, from all of them. The hot guy looked at his boss, the crazy-eyed guy squinted one of his weird eyes and looked at her more closely through the other, and Wolf...he reached out and touched her. His touch wasn’t rough, but for the first time, she was actually scared. Worse than death would be these men touching her. She tried to pull away, but he gripped her chin tightly in his hand and tipped her face up, so she was forced to look into his eyes. She could smell cigarette smoke on his hands and the musky scent of men’s cologne. His fingers were rough and calloused...but it was the way he was looking at her that sent a shudder ripping through her and racing down her spine.

  “Who the fuck sent you here?” he said.

  “Nobody! I told you, I’m looking for my father. Can you let go of me? You’re hurting me!” Wolf let go of her chin and took a step back. She thought she could almost see the wheels turning in his head while another uncomfortable silence built between them. At last he said:

  “What makes you think Coyote is your father?”

  “Well, my mother told me he was and so did he. I guess you all believed the people who told you they were your parents, right? Now if you don’t mind taking me to him...I’d really like to get off my feet and get something to eat.”

  “You’re an arrogant little...” Wolf looked like he was going to say “bitch,” but caught himself. He reached up and rubbed a hand through his beard and said, “Coyote ain’t here.”

  Sabrina felt panic rise in her chest. She didn’t have a backup plan. Coyote told her once, a long time ago, where she could find him if she ever needed him. She’d been stubborn enough back then to tell him that she never would. But...she did now. She needed him. She needed money to help her mother, who was in a mess because of her. Her mother had given her the last of the money she had and told her to get out of the valley...but Sabrina wasn’t about to abandon the woman who had spent her life making sacrifices so that her daughter could have a better one. Her mother had always been there for her, and was in this mess because of her...she wasn’t about to leave her to deal with this on her own. She’d spent the little bit of money on a train ticket and one meal. That was almost two days ago, and her stomach had begun to feel like it had turned on itself and was eating away at her rib cage.

  “When will he be back?”

  Wolf chuckled and said, “I guess if anybody can figure out how to come back from the dead it’ll be old Coyote. But it’s been about a year now and we ain’t heard a thing from him.”

  “Dead?” Sabrina bit her bottom lip. She felt it trembling, and the last thing she wanted to do was break down in tears in front of Wolf and his pack of rabid dogs. She knew they could probably already smell her fear and each time her stomach rumbled, Crazy Eyes looked at her midsection like he was trying to figure out where the noise was coming from. She was dirty, and she knew her eyes were shot through with blood and rimmed with dark circles. The last time she’d gotten a glimpse of herself in the Exxon station bathroom a few miles up the road, she’d hardly known who she was looking at. She looked weak and pathetic...but that was the last thing she wanted
to convey to these men.

  “Yeah, my old man has been dead for a year now. So, if there’s nothing else...” Wolf started to turn his back on her and on impulse she reached out and grabbed on to his beefy arm. In a flash, the guy with the gun to her head had her pressed up against the wall. His hard body was pressed against hers and for a second...or two...she forgot the predicament she was in. She wondered what it would be like to kiss him... “Let her go, Bruf. Skinny kid ain’t gonna do nothing,” Wolf said. “Make sure she ain’t got any weapons on her, have one of the girls get her something to eat, and then get her out of here.”

  “Wait!” The heat from Bruf’s body threatened to start a fire in hers, but as soon as he backed off, she felt as cold as ice. Trying not to stutter she said, “You said, my old man. Coyote was your father too?”

  Wolf studied her face again, like maybe he was trying to see his father in her. She wondered why Coyote never mentioned him, and she wondered if her mother knew about him. With a suspicious arch of his eyebrow he said, “If he was your old man or he wasn’t don’t matter now. Eat. Leave. Don’t come back.” He turned his back on her again and this time Bruf stood between them, making sure she didn’t dare put her hands on him again. It was like he was some kind of fucking royalty, and his arrogance pissed her off. She knew she should let it go, but she couldn’t. As he walked away she said, “He was my father. I know you can see it. I look just like him. You’re throwing your own flesh and blood out on the street. I thought you people were all about loyalty and shit.” Wolf kept walking. The crazy-eyed guy walked away too, and she was left with the hottie, still holding a gun on her, but looking down at her now with some sort of pity in his eyes.

  “Come on,” he said, “we’ll get you something to eat.” Her pride almost caused her to refuse their food. She opened her mouth, but clamped it down shut quickly and nodded. She started walking in the direction he’d pointed her in. He followed closely behind her, and despite everything, she still had an incredible urge to turn around and put her hands on him...all over him. She mentally shook her head at herself...maybe she was delirious from lack of food. She’d only had sex once in her life and it wasn’t good...and the next time she came close to having a man on top of and inside of her had led to all of this mess.

  She wondered if there was something wrong with her for even thinking about sex at a time like this. Besides, she wouldn’t even know what to do with a man like Bruf. “Turn right,” he told her. She did and ended up in a small office. When he stepped in with her, his presence filled the room, and when she turned and looked at him again, he had lowered the gun to his side. Her eyes went to it...and then to the obvious bulge in the front of his jeans. Could he be attracted to me too? Is this any fucking time to be worried about that? No...I’m losing my mind. She realized she was still staring at his crotch when she heard his deep chuckle. She looked up at his gorgeous, bearded face while feeling her own go hot and probably turn bright red. “Want a closer look? I can close the door.”

  She rolled her eyes and tried to act nonchalant as she said, “You wish. Where’s that food you promised me?” He chuckled again, and she knew that he knew she was full of shit. But, thankfully, he let it go. He picked up the phone and she listened to him tell someone to bring him a plate in the office. He told them to “load it up” and bring a glass of milk and cookies too...like she was a little kid. She rolled her eyes again...and hoped the cookies were chocolate chip.

  5

  The gym looked like a big warehouse from the outside, and originally when the Westside Skulls decided to buy it, Wolf had envisioned it as a shop or storage facility for their overflow of bikes and cars. But once Wolf saw the inside of it, he started doing some research into the world of professional boxing and MMA, and he was surprised at how attractive investing in that business started looking to him. He took it to his council and after putting it to a vote, they bought the old gym for practically nothing...but of course that was because it was going to cost them a fortune to bring it up to par, and so far it had.

  He stood at the open door now and a feeling of pride swept over him. The place looked like a real gym, large, professional, and comfortable for a man like Jacob Wright. It had a large, open floor plan and multiple stations where the men who came there could work on whatever skills they wanted to learn, or part of their body they wanted to improve. The floors were covered with colorful mats and various-sized leather bags hung from hooks that dangled from the ceiling. Floor-to-ceiling mirrors covered one entire wall, and toward the back was the large new training ring that the club had spent nearly seven thousand dollars on between purchase and installation. Their next largest purchase was an official-sized UFC cage hat had cost them over thirty grand...and he didn’t even want to think about how much the contractor and plumbers that were still working on the locker rooms and training rooms in back were costing. It was a hell of a lot, but even so, he was sure it would all be worth it in the end.

  He had to admit along the way, however, that if they were going to do this and succeed, they would need help. When he heard about Gunner and the Pay-Per-View fight in Vegas, he saw his opportunity. It would make much more sense for Gunner to train hundreds of miles from Vegas, rather than thousands. Wolf had spent hours in Skype meetings with Dax Marshall and both their accountants...and it had finally been time for both clubs to meet the day that he’d gotten shot. The Boston club had arrived the night before and things had been all arranged. It made some of the guys in his club suspicious, but he knew enough about Dax and the Southside Skulls to know a hit like that wasn’t how they operated. Wolf always did his research. Besides, this deal was worth as much to the “Southies” as it was to the Westside chapter, so there was no motive. He’d be really glad, however, when he did figure out who it was that wanted him dead, and what their motive was, simply because he felt like this shit’s being up in the air was holding them all back.

  It had been a hell of a week even before the shooting. The decision that he’d made, and considered to be the wisest direction he’d taken the club in so far, had become a point of contention between him and his beautiful old lady. There wasn’t much that he and Amara disagreed on, and it had been that way almost since the first moment they met. But in this case, Wolf had to admit that maybe she had reason to be upset with him.

  He’d heard about the place originally from her. She’d been to visit her parents, and her father had been talking about buying it and turning it into a gym-themed speakeasy. While that was an interesting idea, and her father already had a lot of connections in the entertainment business, Wolf knew that he was already in so deep with the shady people he dealt with both in Mexico and Colombia that he’d never be able to get the kind of financial backing it would take to make something like that a reality. So, Wolf had taken the idea of buying it and turning it into a training facility for MMA and hopefully someday UFC fighters to his executive board, and they had put it to a vote. Once they agreed on it, it was taken to church and the rest of the club voted in the affirmative as well. They bought it right out from underneath Amara’s father, and she had been pissed. Things between them had just seemed to be settling down right before that piece of shit tried to take him out, and that pissed him off so much that he wished he could kill him all over again. He had left the club to try to lessen his anxiety. Nothing ever made him feel better than a ride on his bike with the sun on his back and the wind in his hair. He wasn’t going to let shit he couldn’t do anything about at the moment ruin that feeling.

  His eyes sought out Jake and Gunner over near the boxing ring. Smoke was sitting on one of the leather couches against the wall and it looked like the other two men were gearing up to spar. Smoke nodded at him and Wolf started to head in that direction when the sound of Bruf’s voice behind him made him stop and turn back,

  “You sneaking out on me now?”

  Wolf looked over his shoulder at his sergeant-at-arms. “Sorry, brother. I was going stir crazy.”

  “It’s onl
y been two days since you had major surgery, boss. I’m not so sure you should be out riding your bike yet.”

  “I appreciate your concern, Bruf, but I don’t need another doctor...or old lady.”

  Bruf smiled and said, “Okay, I won’t worry about your medical condition...but it’s my job to worry about your safety, and until we know who is looking to take you out, you shouldn’t go anywhere alone, boss, you know that.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry. I should have told you I was leaving. I just needed a change of atmosphere so badly I wasn’t thinking.”

  Bruf sighed and looked like there was more on his mind. After a long pause he said, “Any word on the identity of the shooter yet?”

  “I called Marshall this morning, asked him to call his brother-in-law and see if he could find anything out. I haven’t heard from that little bitch of a detective supposedly ‘investigating’ this, and haven’t been able to get a hold of Meeks.”

  “Well, hopefully David Brady can help us out. There’s something I need to tell you, boss...”

  “Hey, Wolf!” Jacob had noticed them and was waving them over. Wolf started toward them again and Bruf followed.

  “I kind of did something that I’m not sure you’re going to be happy about,” Bruf said.

  “Do we have to talk about it now?” Wolf really didn’t want to hear that his sergeant-at-arms had done something he might be pissed off about. He trusted Bruf with his life and the lives of his family. There was enough shit happening right now. He didn’t want to add anything to it.

  “Soon,” Bruf said. Wolf nodded and headed over where Jake and Gunner were. When they got closer he could hear Jake telling Gunner:

  “Remember not to leave yourself open with that back-leg roundhouse.” Gunner nodded as he tightened up his gloves. When he saw Wolf, he stopped what he was doing and said: