The Heavy Crown: Washington, DC Chapter (Royal Bastards MC Book 1) Read online

  “What the fuck are you doing?! Put me down, asshole!” The girl shouted, her hands holding onto the back of my cut.

  She was a brave little girl for calling me an asshole. I smacked her ass, and she squeaked, all the while wiggling as I carried her out the front door. I heard a few Bastards who stood outside, laughing. When I set the girl down on her feet, she backed away, raising her fists. Her cheeks were flushed, and she glared at me. It was sexy as fuck.

  I jutted out my jaw and pointed at my chin, “Go ahead, throw one right here, darlin’.” She swung, landing one on my cheek. More laughter from my Bastard brothers. “That all you got, little girl?”

  The girl’s bottom lip quivered.

  “Just get outta here,” I said, heading my way back inside.

  “But I don’t have anywhere to go!”

  I turned back around and glared at her, gritting my teeth. “I guarantee if you go back inside, my brothers will pull a train on your virgin ass!”

  “What about my friend, Krista? Will your brothers gang-rape her too?”

  “If she’s with Tye, then that’s what’ll happen.”

  Her eyes welled with tears then, and she began to cry, folding her arms across her chest.

  I groaned, knowing this girl was gonna be trouble. I took two steps toward her. “You really don’t have anywhere to go?”

  She sniffled, wiping her nose with the sleeve of her hoodie. “No. I ran away from home tonight. I’m never going back. Ever.”

  At the age of twenty-five, I’d already fucked a shit ton of women, mostly club whores. I wasn’t used to pretty girls who looked innocent and clean like this one. There was no way she could go back inside. “Did you pack a bag?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Your parents will report you missing, and then when the cops come sniffing around, they’ll track you right to my clubhouse.”

  “I left my backpack in Tye’s van. I just need to figure out what to do next.”

  “Okay. I’ll take you back inside.” I tilted her chin. It was dark out, but I could tell her eyes were a lighter shade of brown than her dark hair. “You stay right next to me and don’t ever leave my sight. Understand?”

  “Yes, I understand.”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Danika. Danika Stevens.”

  “Call me Heavy.”

  CHAPTER 3

  DANIKA

  Heavy was an asshole, just like Tye, but he looked good and smelled much better. But tossing me over his shoulder like I was a piece of meat infuriated me, even though he didn’t threaten or try to hit me like Tye had. I decided to take my chances with Heavy and stay close to him as we went back inside the bar. Both the vodka and beer kicked in, and I stumbled a bit, bumping face first into Heavy’s back.

  He spun around, wrapping his arm over my shoulders, pulling me close. “You’re like a tadpole, squirming around and shit. Stay right here next to me.”

  It was smoky and dimly lit inside, but I could see his dark eyes and the corner of his mouth lifted. Feeling his hard body close to mine was unnerving. Then a quick flash of images invaded my mind.

  The feel of his rough hands on my body. The stink of the liquor and weed on his breath.

  I panicked and pressed my hands against Heavy’s chest, pushing away. But he held me there, his eyes fierce. “You’re safe with me, Dani. I won’t hurt you.”

  “You promise?” Asking an outlaw to promise me anything sounded so ridiculous.

  He held up three fingers. “Scout’s honor.”

  I smiled then, shrugging my shoulders, and moved closer.

  I spotted Krista and Tye sitting with a few other people at a table. I was both annoyed and hurt that Krista felt Tye was more important than me and our friendship. When our eyes met, I arched a brow and flipped her the bird.

  I walked with Heavy to the bar, and he handed me a beer. Another Royal Bastard approached us, with both his arms draped over two women barely dressed in bikini tops and short skirts. He staggered and weaved, and his eyes were bloodshot and glassy.

  He bumped his fist with Heavy’s. “I’m so shit-faced, brother, I can’t even remember my fuckin’ name!”

  They both hooted and howled like two savage wolves.

  Heavy introduced me to him. “Danika, this is my club brother, Wrecker. He’s the reason the Royal Bastards are here tonight. We’re celebrating his patchin’-in.”

  Wrecker leaned forward, grinning as the two girls giggled. “Hey, Dan... Danika.”

  Even though Heavy hardly talked to me at all that night, his hearty laugh made him seem more likable, and I felt a little more at ease around him.

  ***

  It was two a.m. when the bar closed, and the Royal Bastards were moving the party to their clubhouse. I ignored Krista all night but watched as she left with Tye and a few other club members. She didn’t look my way as she walked out. My heart sank, and I felt abandoned by the only friend I thought I had. But if she was riding with Tye to the clubhouse, I worried that something terrible would happen to her.

  I looked at Heavy. “I can’t just let her go to your clubhouse by herself, and I left my backpack in Tye’s van. Will you take me there?”

  Heavy’s eyes followed Tye, and the other Royal Bastards exit the bar. He nodded his head to the big man leading them out. “That big man in front of them is Trick. He’s the club’s president. Stay away from him, cause if he wants to claim you, he can, and there’s nothing I can do about it. Understood?”

  “Yes, Heavy.”

  He took my hand and led me out of the bar. “You ever rode on a bike?”

  “Uh. No, but I’m a quick learner.”

  We walked over to the parked motorcycles and stopped in front of his. It was a black Harley with real high handlebars and hard saddlebags.

  “You need a lid,” Heavy said, then walked over to another club member who pulled out a helmet from his saddlebag. He came back and placed it on my head. He snapped the straps together under my chin and handed me a pair of sunglasses. “I get on the bike first. You climb on behind me and put your feet on those footboards. Then just hang on to me. Got it?”

  “Got it.”

  Climbing on behind Heavy was easy, and I wrapped my arms around his waist. He started the bike, and the pipes rumbled low and loud. We pulled out in a tight group, and Trick was in the front leading his club, while Heavy rode last and in the back. I held onto him, my hands touching his leather cut, the wind pushing against us. The vibration and thundering roar of all the motorcycles was thrilling, especially to a girl like me who’d never been on one before, let alone sit behind an outlaw biker.

  The pack stopped at a red light in the heart of the city. Heavy planted his feet and turned his head toward me. “I can’t even feel you back there. You’re so little, like a tadpole.”

  That was the second time Heavy called me that. I was going to say something nasty but then decided not to since it was better than being called a cunt.

  When the light turned green, and the group revved their throttles, Heavy left the pack and turned an immediate right onto a one-way street.

  I tapped him on the shoulder. “Where are we going?!”

  “Not to the clubhouse!” he barked back as he pulled in the clutch, switching gears.

  I became frightened then, wondering if he was some deranged lunatic who was going to take me down a dead-end street and rape or kill me. I would be the perfect victim since he knew I was a runaway, and my parents didn’t even give a shit. For a moment, I thought of jumping off. I looked down as the bike sped up, and the ground was just a blur. Quick images of broken bones and blood flashed through my mind.

  “Stop the bike! Please!” I shouted, leaning away from him.

  He reached back, placing his hand on the back of my calf, “Relax, Dani. I’m taking you somewhere else. It’ll be safer.”

  I exhaled a sigh of relief and leaned forward, wrapping my arms around Heavy again as he rode us out of the inner city of DC and onto the highw
ay.

  CHAPTER 4

  HEAVY

  What the fuck was I doing with a teenage runaway on the back of my bike? My club didn’t need the law on our fucking backs and sniffing around the clubhouse for two goddamn teenage girls. Danika had trouble written all over her, and it would land on the club and me. And then she started to cry when I carried her out of the bar. I fucking hated to see a chick cry. I only liked to see a chick cry when I choked and fucked her or when she’s gagging on my hard dick.

  Tye was a royal fuck up. He never followed club laws, and he did whatever the fuck he wanted to benefit Tye. Bringing the girls to a patch-in party was way beyond stupid. I kept my anger in check all night even though I wanted to smash my fist into his face. Trick didn’t seem to have a problem with it. Since he was the Prez, I just kept my mouth shut and my eyes on Danika.

  Danika held onto me tight as I rode out of the city and checked in to the Spotlight Motel, a popular spot for truckers off the main interstate. When she followed me into the motel room, I shoved the key in my pocket. “Lock the door when I leave and do not open it for anyone. I’ll come back in before dawn.”

  I turned to go, but she grabbed my arm. “Wait! What about Krista? If you didn’t take me to the clubhouse, then she must be in danger.”

  “Nothing I can do about that.”

  She let go of my arm and sat on the bed. Her head dropped and shut her eyes. “I left my backpack in Tye’s van. It’s all I have. We should never have gone to your club’s party. If something bad happens to Krista, I’ll never be able to forgive myself.”

  I’d known of young girls like her that ran from a bad life at home. They were the ones who ended up as the property of a diamond club like mine. Then they were pimped out, strung out on drugs, and sometimes ended up dead.

  Danika was a pretty girl, and she was gutsy for taking a swing at my face earlier that night. I was starting to like her, and I never liked anyone.

  I walked over to the bed and tilted her chin. There was better light in the room, and I could see her eyes better. A lighter shade than her dark hair. Hazel. “It’s not your fault. I’ll go by the clubhouse and check on her and get your backpack.”

  Her brows shot up. “Would you do that?”

  “Yeah.”

  She was off the bed and threw her arms around my neck. “Thank you, Heavy.”

  I breathed in Danika’s fresh scent and couldn’t stop myself from pulling her small body closer. My hand twisted into her dark hair and pulled. Her lips parted, craving to be kissed. I smashed mine over hers for a little taste.

  She moaned, and my dick started to get hard.

  I released her. “Then I’m gettin’ you on the first bus out of here in the morning.”

  I walked out of the room, slamming the door hard. Danika Stevens was too young and too clean to be around a dangerous asshole like me. I’d do some hardcore damage to that girl, and I had to get rid of her quick.

  ***

  I twisted the throttle wide open back onto the interstate. I rode to the clubhouse in DC, a large warehouse in the southeast district, beside the Potomac River. I spotted Tye’s van parked out in the gravel lot as I rode in through the bay doors and parked my bike beside the others. My club brother, Rufus, was shit-faced, pulling his bike up the cement ramp and into the burn-out pit. Brothers were shouting and whistling as Rufus placed the front tire up against a cement wall. Standing the bike up, he revved the throttle, and the back tire spun. Half the clubhouse was covered in a plume of white smoke, as the bike’s pipes roared, and club whores waved their hands at the smoke, coughing and laughing.

  I climbed off the bike, and I scanned the clubhouse looking for Tye and the girl, Krista. I didn’t see them at the bar, then looked over at the pool tables to see Wrecker laying on one, passed the fuck out. I saw Trick standing by the bar with a chick who looked too young to even be legal. His eyes met mine, and he waved me over.

  “Where’s Tye?” I asked when I approached.

  “He’s havin’ a little fun with that young squeeze of his.”

  I clenched my jaw as my father’s bloodshot eyes darted to look behind me. “Where’s the other one? Thought she was with you?”

  “The little bitch was a fuckin lightweight, almost puked all over me and the bike. I ditched her on the way here. Left her at a metro bus stop.”

  My brothers, who stood around us, laughed, but Trick looked pissed. When he downed a shot of his favorite whiskey, he stepped up and stood only inches from my face. We were the same height and build. There was no doubt we were father and son. I hated him, and he knew it.

  He glared at me with bloodshot eyes. “I had plans for that girl.”

  I stood my ground. “What plans?”

  The brothers standing around, stopped laughing.

  “You and me. Outside,” Trick growled.

  I followed him out big bay doors toward the graveled parking lot where Tye’s van was parked. I had a good guess that Tye was in it with the girl, but it was eerily quiet—no laughter, no screams.

  Trick stopped short, only a few yards away from the van and lit a joint. He didn’t pass it to me since he liked his dope and didn’t share it. “You’re not holding the gavel anytime soon, son. Better reign in some of that hate you have for me. Don’t show it around our brothers. It makes them uneasy, and before you know it, they start questioning their loyalty to the Royal Bastards.”

  I wanted to bash my knuckles into his face. He never had one fucking loyal bone in his ruthless body. It was all about what was in it for him, not the club.

  I was done with this father to son talk. “What’s this plan?”

  Trick took another hit off his joint, holding it in then exhaled before he told me. “Tye wanted to push those girls into whoring and to help push the meth. He’s a stupid son of a bitch. Those girls are worth a lot more. I put them up for auction and sold them to the highest bidder.”

  “Who?”

  “Some suits. They’re Russian. Fifty grand apiece. Those slant-eyed Yakuza motherfuckers came in second.”

  “The Bastards don’t deal with those white-collar pieces of shit. Wasn’t it you who always told us we’d never do business with them?”

  I turned and walked away with even more hate than I thought I could have for my own father. Krista’s fate was sealed, and there was nothing I could do about it. But I had to get Danika on the first bus and miles away from DC.

  “Don’t turn your back on me, Hendrix! I’ll take your patch and slice the Bastard ink right off your fuckin skin!” Trick threatened, and I believed him too.

  I halted my steps. “There wasn’t a club vote on this deal you made with the Russians, but you’re the president of this club. What you say, the Bastards make happen. I’m going back inside to get my dick wet.”

  CHAPTER 5

  DANIKA

  Heavy slammed the motel door so hard, it shook the walls, and a framed picture fell to the floor. I sat back down on the bed and touched my lips that still tingled. I was terrified at first when Heavy pulled my hair, his eyes full of hungry lust that I’d seen in another man’s eyes. But when he kissed me, it sent all my senses reeling. His tongue was ruthless and demanding. I moaned, and he let me go like I was a hot flame that burned him.

  I laid on the bed, hugged my knees to my chest, and began to cry. I was alone and afraid. No one ever protected me—not even my own mother. She hated me and even when Jack began to touch me. I always felt it was my fault, especially when my mother looked at me with disgust, and maybe even with jealousy. Krista was the only one I thought was my friend, but after what happened at the bar, I felt like she stabbed me in the back.

  The only person who showed me any bit of kindness was a dangerous outlaw biker. I didn’t think things through when I packed my bag and ran away earlier that night. I only had five hundred bucks, and I knew that wouldn’t get me far. Heavy said he would get me on a bus in the morning. The reality of feeling even more alone and not knowing what would happen spiraled
me down into depression. I was living and breathing fear.

  I must have cried myself to sleep when I felt the bed creak and shift. I woke up to see Heavy leaning over me.

  “Wake up, Danika,” he said, his voice deep and gruff.

  I rolled over and climbed out of bed. I stood, rubbing my eyes and yawned. “Is Krista okay?”

  “No. She’s dead.”

  “What?”

  He held out my backpack. “If I don’t get you on a bus now, Dani, you’ll be just as dead as she is!”

  I broke down sobbing, and my body began to tremble. “But she can’t be dead.”

  Heavy’s solid arms came around me. I dug my fingers into the front of his vest. “It’s a fucked-up shitshow. Tye had Krista in his van; she OD’d on some bad shit he gave her. My prez had plans to sell you both to some Russians for a good ton of cash. They won’t be too happy when their merchandise is dead, and the other one got away.”

  “I’m scared.”

  “I know you are.” He leaned away, gripping my arms. “But we’re wasting time. Get your shoes on, and let’s get the fuck outta here.”

  ***

  I clung tightly to Heavy while we rode his bike to the Greyhound bus station as the sun was coming up. I bought a one-way ticket to Atlantic City, New Jersey. As people stood in line to board the bus, I sniffled, my eyes swollen from crying on the ride there. Heavy shoved his hand down his jeans pocket.

  He took my hand and placed a rolled-up wad of cash in it. “It’s only a grand, but that’s all I got on me. When you get to Atlantic City, find a woman’s shelter. You should be safer there than sleeping on the streets. Find a job flipping burgers, pumping gas—anything—‘cause the money will run out quick.”

  I looked down at the wad of cash in my hand. I’d never seen a thousand dollars before and wondered what kinds of bad and unlawful things Heavy did to get it. He was dangerous, and so were the other men in his club.

  “Why?” I whispered.

  “Why what?”