Prologue
Cast the First Stone
With his eyes scanning side to side, Stone strode through the parking lot of The Shoppes at Susquehanna Marketplace. A busy Saturday couldn’t be a better time. But he sure as hell wasn’t there to shop.
Fuck no.
The lot was packed with the types of cages Chopper needed. Since Stone happened to be down in Harrisburg earlier today to do a “collection,” he figured he’d tool through some of the local malls to hunt for some rich fuckers’ vehicles on his way back north.
The parts for luxury rides always brought in more scratch, but they also had more anti-theft shit, making them a fucking headache to pinch. But if the model was worth it, they found a way to steal it, since it would bring in a fuckload of scratch for their club’s coffers.
Usually, Wrecker was stealth enough with either their self-loading Ford F-550, a plain, black, unmarked tow truck, or the Snatcher hydraulic setup installed in the bed of an unassuming F-350 pickup.
Either way, Wrecker was a pro on getting in, getting out, and getting the fuck going without getting pinched by the pigs or catching a bullet between the eyes from an overzealous owner. His club brother could steal a cage in under a minute, which was goddamn impressive.
Of course, all those rich motherfuckers had insurance and no doubt would be compensated fairly for their vehicle’s permanent disappearance.
Stone ducked between two vehicles and spotted a Mercedes C-Class parked right fucking next to a BMW 3 Series, two of the easiest sedans to steal and always owned by douchebags.
How about that fucking luck?
He pursed his lips and slowly walked behind them both, keeping his cell phone low and inconspicuous as he snapped photos of their license plates.
Luckily, Devil Dog’s ol’ lady worked at the Department of Motor Vehicles and had access to run those registrations, making stealing cars even easier. She provided the home or business address of the vehicles they scouted and, BOOM, Wrecker stole it, giving Chopper more cages for him and his crew to strip down.
It only took them about an hour to dismantle a four-door douche-mobile. Those high and mighty assholes probably spent more time than that at the dealership when they bought the fucking thing.
Once the VINs were rendered illegible with a torch, the parts were sold to the highest bidder. That could be either on the black market, or to a local garage or body shop that didn’t give a shit about where the part came from as long as it was untraceable. Local shops could charge their customers a premium for that OEM replacement part after buying it for a steal.
The Kings also recently hooked up with an individual with connections so they could sell high-dollar parts overseas. That had been a hell of a score for his club.
He sneered up at the sun. It was too ball-sweating hot today to be doing this kind of shit on foot. He dug into the front pocket of his jeans, pulled out a black elastic hair tie and secured his messy long hair into an equally messy knot at the back of his head.
That was better.
He scanned the parking lot again for either pigs or rent-a-pigs, AKA mall security. They were probably on a donut break. With his head back on a swivel, he worked his way down a few more rows, quickly snapping photos of potential targets as he went.
He never paused behind a vehicle for more than a second or two. He never wore his fucking cut. And when doing a collection job or other illegal shit, he always swapped out his sled’s plate with one of the hundreds of fake ones they kept on hand. Luckily, some of his brothers had learned how to make plates in prison, a priceless skill learned while being rehabilitated.
Not him, though. Those CO cucks didn’t trust him enough to allow him one of those jobs. He had no idea why.
A grin threatened to curve his lips.
Until he remembered how much being in the hole for bad behavior sucked. Being stuck in solitary confinement meant he had no one to fuck with, besides himself, or any wet-behind-the-ears screws.
Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a pretty slit climbing out of a cage at the far end of the parking lot. Her ride wasn’t worth stealing, that was for damn sure, but he wasn’t interested in that. He was more focused on riding the woman now opening the back driver’s side door on an old Honda Pilot.
Fuck yeah. He wouldn’t mind one long, sweaty night with that piece. Her ass in those shorts was—
Oh, fuck no.
When she reached into the back seat, she helped a whole damn nut nugget out of the cage. He might be mini-sized baggage, but still baggage Stone didn’t want to deal with. Even for one night.
Kids could create issues when he was wrecking some plump, juicy pussy. Assuming they weren’t a damn cockblock in the first place.
He should know.
Fuck that shit.
He could find another cunt for his dick to fill. Because fuck if it would be that one.
He shook his head. Damn shame.
But that didn’t mean he couldn’t check out her sweet tits. Or enjoy an eyeful of the smooth bare legs he’d like sandwiching his face as she reached into the back seat again. She kept one hand locked on the kid while pulling out what looked like an overnight bag.
Then his goddamn view was blocked by some asshole who had parked right next to her and got out.
Weird that they were the only two vehicles in the farthest area of the lot. There was no reason for the dick to park right next to her with all the empty spots elsewhere. Unless…
Stone narrowed his eyes, took them in for a second, then headed toward his sled on the other side of the lot while still keeping them in his sights. The newcomer could be some trafficker wanting to snatch the kid or the woman, or, fuck, both. Despite the lot being busy, it was fucking stupid of her to park in an isolated area.
He hopped on his sled and after his girl roared to life, he began heading in that direction.
By the time he could see their vehicles again, he was still several rows away. He kept one eye on them and the other watching for cages backing out of spots and distracted pedestrians. Getting struck by a clueless driver or running over Sally Shopper was not on his list of things to do today.
But what he saw next made him forget everything else in that fucking parking lot. It also made him scowl.
And caused his blood pressure to spike.
The man was now in her damn face. They weren’t having a civil conversation, either. Fuck no. The dickhead was yelling at her.
He couldn’t hear what was being shouted, but that shit didn’t matter. By her worried expression it, whatever it was, wasn’t good.
She turned in what appeared to be an attempt to ignore him and leaned inside the Honda again. The asshole continued to crowd her and spew whatever bullshit he was spewing.
She had to know him. If a stranger approached any woman Stone knew shouting like that, the asshole’s balls would find themselves deeply embedded in his body cavity. So deep that it would take surgical intervention to locate them again.
He had no fucking clue how she was keeping her shit together; he was on the verge of losing his and he wasn’t even involved.
His eyes flicked down to the kid to see him now bawling.
Stone slipped his Harley into a spot with a clear view of the two vehicles and shut it down, but remained straddling his sled.
Since the man hadn’t put his hands on the woman or kid yet, it would be smart if Stone kept his distance and only observed. But his gut was screaming that something was way the fuck off here.
When she turned after finding whatever she’d been searching for in the Honda, she was gripping a light-blue stuffed elephant.
The moment she offered it to the kid, Stone saw her flinch right before the man backhanded her. Her head jerked violently from the impact and the elephant went flying through the air.
Goddamn, that had to fucking hurt.
Holding a hand to her cheek, she stared at the asshole with wide eyes and a gaping mouth.
Before Stone could even react, she grabbed her kid and was encouraging him to climb back into the Honda. Only, the man stopped her by grabbing her arm, whipping her around and punching her right in the fucking face, knocking her to the pavement.
What the actual fuck?
Stone ground his teeth and threw his leg over his sled. It was time to get involved.
He could no longer see her face. She had covered it with her hands trying to protect it from further blows, since the man still stood over her and continued to wail on her like he’d lost his goddamn mind.
As his legs quickly ate up the distance to where they were parked, a man to his left yelled, “Don’t worry, I already called 9-1-1.”
Don’t fuckin’ worry? “Motherfuckin’ pussy,” he growled.
Don’t fucking worry, he’d handle it.
The asshole was now leaning over her, screaming and shaking a finger at her. That finger needed to be broken. Or severed. Or shoved up his fucking ass.
When the man straightened, Stone’s pace went from urgent into crisis mode.
“Fuck you, asshole!” Stone yelled, trying to pull Asshole’s attention when he didn’t get there in time to stop him from kicking her ribs while she was still down.
Her body heaved and rocked from each impact.
For fuck’s sake.
The motherfucker was so focused on the bleeding, injured woman, he was ignoring the kid and the fact that Stone was closing in on him with his fingers curled into tight fists, his jaw set, and his rage racing through every vein in his fucking body.
He had no idea who this fucker was to her, but that was a detail he couldn’t give a shit about. What mattered was that he violently put his hands on a woman.
Ignoring the kid hiccup-sobbing for his mother, Stone remained laser-focused on the threat.
“Pick on someone your own goddamn size,” he growled, coming in hot.
The blond-haired man spun to face Stone. “Who the fuck are—”
Before he could finish, Stone’s fist said, “Hello, howya doin’?” to that big-ass nose and it exploded like an over-ripened tomato. Out loud, he answered, “Someone your own goddamn size.”
Unfortunately, Asshole, now holding his crushed nose, was still upright. Something needed to be done about that, since that wasn’t fucking acceptable.
Stone wiggled his fingers, trying to lure him out from between the vehicles and away from the woman and her son. But when Asshole didn’t move, Stone grabbed his shirt and yanked him off balance before throwing him to the pavement behind the Pilot.
Now he had a better view of the woman and saw she had been knocked the fuck out.
Stone’s narrowed gaze sliced back to Asshole and the world around him disappeared.
Once consumed by rage, he couldn’t easily turn it back off, and this jackass deserved everything dished out to him.
Since Stone had no medical training, he couldn’t help the woman, except in one way…revenge. And he’d be glad to dole it out.
He turned to see the man back on his feet and cursing him out, despite it being muffled due to his busted nose.
There was plenty more where that came from.
Stone stalked forward. “You feel like a goddamn man when you hit a woman?”
“She deserved it. She was trying to—”
“Don’t give a fuck ‘bout your reason. Whatever it is, it ain’t fuckin’ valid.”
“Fuck you!”
One side of Stone’s mouth pulled up. “Ain’t gonna fuck you, but gonna fuck you up.”
“You do and—”
He was tired of the bitch’s whining.
Stone’s fist automatically shot out and kissed Asshole’s mouth this time, causing his legs to fold like an accordion when he crumpled to the ground.
“Guess you don’t know how to duck and cover. Good for me, not good for you.” Stone leaned down and tipped his ear forward. “Got nothin’ to say now?”
A quick glance over at the still unconscious, bleeding woman and wailing kid brought a fresh wave of fury.
Grabbing Asshole’s shirt, he hauled his ass back up. “Can’t hit a man when he’s fuckin’ down, right?”
As Stone released his shirt, a right fist to the side of the head had the man hitting the pavement hard.
What a fuckin’ pity.
But the fuck if he was done. This asshole needed a lesson he wouldn’t soon forget.
Stone drop-kicked him in the ribs the same way he did the woman. Except Asshole hadn’t been wearing heavy biker boots. His loafers didn’t have quite the same impact.
His boots were great for stomping on roaches, too. And he’d never seen a bigger one than the one sprawled at his feet. So, he crushed it under the sole of his boot. Just to be safe, he did it again.
And one more for shits and giggles.
Once his rage lessened and reality began to return, he noticed the groaning man’s head lolling back and forth. Asshole was bleeding from his nose, his mouth, even his ears.
Was he actually crying like a little bitch?
Now that was fucking embarrassing.
Bruises were already blooming on every inch of skin Stone could see not covered in blood. Asshole’s eyes were swelling at a rapid rate. One cheek was split wide open from Stone’s bulky rings and his lips wouldn’t be yelling shit for a good while. He wouldn’t be able to breathe through his nose anytime soon, either. The angle of his arm seemed to be a bit off, too.
Maybe Asshole was simply flexible.
Or maybe not.
“Hope you learned your fuckin’ lesson,” Stone growled and sucked a thick hocker from his nasal cavity into his mouth before spitting it on Asshole’s face. “That’s a little partin’ gift from me to you.”
Since Asshole was no longer an active threat, he didn’t give him another glance. Instead, Stone approached the boy sitting on the ground next to his mother, clinging to her limp hand. “You okay, kid?”
With tears and snot covering his red face, the kid could only hiccup in answer. Once the high-pitched wails started again, Stone winced. For fuck’s sake. He needed ear plugs. Or duct tape.
He squatted down and softly tapped the woman’s unbruised cheek. “You in there?”
He brushed a lock of hair off her forehead and checked her pulse. It was strong. She was simply knocked out.
Stone had been there, done that, and woke up with a massive splitting headache. He had no doubt she’d experience the same. Luckily, he couldn’t spot any broken bones. But that didn’t mean she didn’t have any.
“C’mon, wake the fuck up. Can’t leave you here like this. Can’t leave your kid alone.” He sighed. He needed to get the fuck out of there before the pigs showed up. He tapped her cheek more firmly this time. “C’mon, woman. Don’t got all fuckin’ day. Wake the fuck up.”
“M-m-mommy!” came another high-pitched wail.
At least her son could form words now. “Hey, kid, who’s that mother—” Fuck. “Man?”
“He…he…he’s my d-d-daddy.” Another snot bubble expanded before popping like a damn overfilled balloon.
Jesus fucking Christ. How did that kid have any tears left? Or snot?
“Y-y-you hurt…him.”
No shit. “Sorry, kid, but some lessons need to be learned the hard way.” He tapped the mother’s cheek again. “C’mon, woman, wake up.” Why did women have to be so damn stubborn?
He really needed to get the fuck out of there.
Finally, her eyes fluttered open but remained unfocused. She was still out of it. Maybe even had a concussion.
He stood and offered his hand but every time she tried to grab it, she missed. So, he hauled her up and onto her feet, keeping a hold of her when she wobbled slightly. He propped her up against her Honda, making sure she didn’t slide right back down into a heap.
“You okay?” He raked his gaze over her from top to toe. Blood soaked her blouse and her shorts. A sandal was missing and her sunglasses were gone.
She was going to have a hell of a shiner, a fat lip, and a couple of black eyes. Maybe even a few scars where her skin had split open. He was damn sure her ribs were at least bruised, if not broken.
She’d be hurting for a while. Most likely regretting her life choices. Like spitting out a nut nugget with a man who had no problem putting his hands on women. Especially the mother of his child. In front of the fucking kid, too. Couldn’t be more of a piece of shit than that.
“Mommy!”
She winced when her boy squeezed in between them and hugged her thigh. Of course, still goddamn crying.
She placed a shaky hand on his head. “It’s okay.”
It wasn’t. But if that was what the kid needed to hear to shut up, then whatever, lie to him. “Who’s the piece of shit?”
Her already swelling eyes, one of them even had a blood spot developing, fell on the crumpled, unconscious asshole. “My ex.”
“Why the fuck are you meetin’ your asshole ex here with no one watchin’ your fuckin’ back?” Or packing heat.
“We meet here every Friday afternoon to exchange our son.”
“Does it always go this fuckin’ smoothly?”
She bared her teeth in a grimace. Yeah, he’d been there before. She had to be a fuckload of pain.
“I usually bring my mother. She’s been sick and I couldn’t find anyone else in time.”
“You let that abusive cocksucker take your kid?”
Her head jerked back, then she winced. “I don’t have a choice. It’s court-ordered.”
For fuck’s sake. What fucking kangaroo court allowed that? Asshole shouldn’t have visitations with a dead guppy that had been floating at the top of a fish bowl for the last thirty days, forget a living, breathing small human.
“You’re bleeding,” she whispered.
He glanced at his bloody knuckles. It was nothing. “Lot less than you.” He pulled a bandana from his back pocket and shoved it at her. “Here. Press this against…” Fuck. Her eye, her nose, her mouth; she was bleeding in too many damn places. She could choose where to use it.
She took it and when she pressed it against her nose, she hissed in pain.
“You need to get yourself checked out. Gonna be hurtin’ for a while. Now…it’s been fuckin’ fun but I gotta—”
That was when he heard it.
The goddamn sirens. The squealing tires.
Christ.
Then he saw it.
The flashing pig party lights.
The one party he tried to never attend.
Too fucking late.
The three little pigs barreled toward him like he was the big, bad wolf and was about to blow down their fucking house.
He ground out another curse as the three cruisers parked a half circle behind Honda and Asshole’s cage.
As if on cue, all three driver’s doors opened and pigs from the local PD crouched behind them, using them as shields. All with guns drawn.
Of fuckin’ course. Fuck the tasers and go right for the kill shot.
“Turn around and lace your fingers behind your head!” shouted one uniformed oinker.
He set his jaw and contemplated his choices.
He could resist them, but that would only mean more time behind bars. Hard to help run a goddamn MC when you’re stuck inside.
Add in the fact the blonde and her son had already dealt with enough trauma for the day; they really didn’t need to see him get his ass kicked and dragged away.
For fuck’s sake.
“Turn around and lace your fingers behind your head! Do it now!”
He was tempted to ask them, “Or what?” but he already knew. He’d been through this shit before. More times than he could count.
“I’m sorry.” The woman’s whisper shook as badly as her hands. She was probably going into shock. “Is there anything I can do?”
Not unless she wanted to be cuffed and stuffed, too. “Make sure you document what that motherfucker did and drag his ass back to court. Get a PFA for you and your kid.” Not that the Protection From Abuse order was worth the paper it was printed on, but at least this bullshit with her ex would be documented.
With his bandana still pressed to her nose, she nodded. “I will. Again, I’m sorry you had to get involved.”
“I’m not.” It went against his grain to turn his back on the three pigs with their guns trained on him. But he did it—for her—then slowly lifted his arms and interlaced his fingers behind his head.
“Walk backwards toward the sound of my voice. Don’t stop until I tell you.”
Yeah, yeah, yeah. Same old fucking song and dance.
He could do this routine in his sleep.
They continued to annoy the fuck out of him by shouting more orders until they had him face-planted on a pig-mobile’s hot hood and cuffed, searched, and divested of his knife, his keys, his chain wallet, his cell phone, and the remainder of the pre-rolled found stuffed deep in his front jeans pocket.
It was bullshit that any scratch made from the rides he took photos of today would now be used toward his defense fund.
He was damn sure that wouldn’t go over well with Ransom. In fact, the prez might let him rot in prison this time.
And Stone wouldn’t blame him one damn bit.
