Chapter 5: Criminal (Lola)
(Lola)
As soon as we arrived outside my building, I jumped off the bike and stormed toward my brother, yanking my helmet off while I walked- my hair sticking up at odd angles.
“What the hell Sam? Why are we here?” I demand, poking a sharp nail into his chest.
“I am not leaving the city till I know who’s threatening the crew,” Sam shrugs, his tall frame towering over me. “And it’s Ghost while we are out here. You know that” he corrects with a stern look. I ignore him.
“They threaten me, not your precious brotherhood.”
“Like it or not, Sweetheart, you are one of us, and Eagles protect their own.”
“Hell yeah,” Ace chimed in.
“And what if someone is watching my apartment?”
“if they’re stupid enough to attack, it will be a short visit,” Sam smirks, brushing past me, Ace and Tats following behind. While I stayed rooted to the spot, this was a terrible idea.
Sam turns to look at me, his eyes raking over my body. “Are you coming, little sister? Or are you too scared?” he teased, a cocky half-smile tugging at his lips. Bastard.
I didn’t bother to look pleasant as I stalked past him and led them up the stairs. When we get to my floor, I quickly palm my dagger. Sam frowns, glancing between me and the blade as if considering if I was clumsy enough to trip and accidentally slit my own throat. I glared back at him, stepping toward the broken door, but Sam quickly intercepted me.
“Stay,” He orders.
“I’m not a dog,” I hiss back, attempting to move past him. But unfortunately, I didn’t get two steps before Sam blocked me again.
“Sis, you really don’t want to test me right now,” Sam warned, gently pushing me back against the wall, allowing Ace and Tats to walk past us.
“You really don’t want to get between a woman and her gouache bag, especially when she’s wielding a knife,” I smirk, letting the edge of the blade tap against his inner thigh. Sam looked down, eyes widening as he noted how close my dagger sat to his favourite body part. “I’m not sixteen anymore, brother. I can look after myself.” And with that, I shove past him, grinning from ear to ear.
Sam had assumed taking me away from the Club would keep me out of trouble. What Sam hadn’t accounted for was how deeply rooted the Club was in me, and that was something no amount of absence could remove.
The apartment, much to everyone’s disappointment, was empty. The attackers had turned out my wardrobe, draws and cupboards but hadn’t taken anything. Or at least as far as I could tell, considering the 50 grand watch was still on my dressing table. They had, however, spent a considerable amount of time rifling through my underwear draw and evaluating my sex toys. The contents of both were lined up on my unmade bed.
“Nice to know your sex life is healthy, Sis,” Sam remarks dryly, glancing over the selection of toys and lacy underwear for a little longer than necessary. His comment caused Ace to snort. Was it me, or was he calling me Sis more than usual? As if needing to remind himself or the other who I was.
“Well, why use a man when a toy can get the job done faster and better,” I tease, letting my fingertips gently grace over the rabbit. All three glanced at me in outrage, yet not one of them spoke up. I grin inwardly; men made it only too easy to wind them up.
“Why do you have so much expensive junk?” Ace asks, picking up a decorative gold egg from my nightstand. Sam’s eyes shot to me as if he’d put two and two together.
“Your not…I mean… You don’t you know?” Sam stumbles over his words, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. He looked more than a little uncomfortable. I almost laughed aloud; I had never seen him lost for words before.
“Do I what?”
“Do you have sex with men for money?” Sam quizzed, his tone hard, yet he wouldn’t dare meet my gaze.
The room fell utterly silent as the question filled the room. Wait…did he think? Me? A sex worker? I couldn’t help the laughter that burst through my throat; it was just too funny despite his accusation.
Sam, however, didn’t like that, crosses the room faster than a man of his size had any right to move. “It’s not fucking funny; this is serious, Low!” Sam growls, his eyes dark and filled with a rage I had never seen before. The other two quickly found somewhere else to be. Yet I couldn’t stop laughing; it was a hilarious thing I had ever heard. Sam grabs my shoulder, his gaze burning into mine.
“No, big brother, I have never sold my body for money... or other things,” I snicker, smiling from ear to ear.
“Then what’s all this crap? You have a goddam Rolex,” Sam points out, glaring back at me.
“I’d have to be a high-class whore to have gotten a Rolex as payment,” I consider, still grinning. Sam grip tightens on my shoulder, the furry in his eyes only increasing. “I stole it.”
“You stole it?” Sam repeated in disbelief. I smile, noting the dog tags dangling from my brother’s neck.
“I’m pretty good, honestly,” I consider, stepping closer and looking up at him through lowered lashes. “I stole that one right off the man’s wrist,” I tell him, letting my fingertips graze over the sensitive skin of his wrist. Sam’s head lowers, his gaze tacking the movement of my fingers with surprising interest. I didn’t let myself read too much into it as I swiftly removed the tags from his neck. Before letting it rest on his bicep, the tags held within my fist.
“Show me,” Sam directs. I smirk, stepping back from him and holding out my clenched hand. Sam frowns, reaching to pull my hand apart to reveal his dog tags. He takes the tags from my grasp, eyes wide, before pressing a hand to his chest as if they might be a copy around his neck. “When did you do that?” Sam demands, placing the tags back around his neck.
“When you were too busy watching my left hand to notice what my right was doing,” I grin. Sam opens his mouth to ask more, but the sound of bone hitting flesh quickly cut him off.
In the next second, we sprinted into the hall, finding Ace pinned to the wall, a figure before him dressed head to toe in black just like the men who had chased me this morning. The intruder’s hand wrapped around Ace’s throat, a gun discarded at their feet.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Sam warns, his voice dark and menacing. A gun appeared in Sam’s hand aimed at the back of the intruders head.
“Eagles Wing, are you?” The man asks, loosening his grip on Ace, keeping his movements steady and remaining with his back to us.
“What’s it to you?” Sam challenges, neither confirming nor denying.
“It doesn’t matter who you are; the boss only wants her. Give her to me, and you will be rewarded. Get in our way, and it will not end well for you,” The man declares.
“The way I see it, you are outgunned, mate,” Sam remarks. “We will take our chances,”
“This is only the beginning.” I roll my eyes, so dramatic.
“Who are you? And what do you want with her?” Sam demands.
“She betrayed my boss. That’s all you need to know,”
“You’re going to have to be more specific than that, buddy,” I prompt, crossing my arms over my chest.
“You!” The man snarls, moving to lunge for me. Sam pulled the trigger before he could take a step in my direction. The intruder crumpled to the floor, blood pooling around him. I jump back, startled. Thankfully the shot was clean and didn’t splatter blood all over my new jeans.
“Well, that was fun,” I remark, turning back toward my bedroom. I try not to think about the corpse bleeding out on my floor, this was not my first rodeo, and I didn’t want to give Sam more reasons to be overprotective. But Sam grabs my arm, stopping me; he gestures with his chin to the corpse.
“Check to see if you recognise him,” he urges. Then, quickly dropped his hand from my wrist as if the contact had burnt him.
I turn back to the body, watching as Ace turned him over, pulling down the scarf he’d use to cover his face. I swiped away some of the blood so I could make out his features. White man maybe late twenties early thirties, crooked nose, lifeless brown eye and short mousy brown hair. I shook my head; I didn’t recognise him.
We didn’t stick around to see if more showed up, the sounds of cop cars already blasting in the distance. One of my neighbours probably reported the gunshots. But I’d be dammed to leave without grabbing a few more items while we were here. Sam helps me fill two large duffle bags before we make our way out. Using the fire escape, we managed to avoid the cops that had arrived in front of the building. Nobody seemed to notice the specks of blood coating the four of us. As we causally mount the bikes and drive off.
The Clubhouse was different from what I remembered; someone had bothered to fix up the place since I had been gone. The aged wooden building had been painted black with the Club’s logo stamped on the front.
The double garage, which had previously been a dumping ground for stolen parts, had been cleared out and converted into a custom car and restoration business. From the looks of the muscle cars parked out front, they were making a healthy profit.
“The Club looks good. Since when did the guys start fixing old cars?” I ask Sam, swinging my leg off Ace’s bike. Sam turned to me, helmet already disregarded, and a lazy smile tugging at his lips.
“A lot has changed since you left. I’ve been running the shop for just over a year now,” Sam tells me, leaning back against his bike and lighting a cigarette.
Ace gives my brother a nod before disappearing into the Club with tats on his heels.
“How did you get Dad to agree to that?” I consider, leaning on the wall beside him. Sam smile drops at the mention of our father, his eyes darkening with anger.
“Dean’s no longer our President. Cal took over around the same time you left.”
“Dad wouldn’t just give up the club life. What happened?” I press, crossing my arms over my chest.
“It’s not your concern. And stop calling him Dad; that piece of shit doesn’t deserve the title,” Sam ordered, blowing out a cloud of smoke.
I watch my brother for a minute, wondering if Dad leaving had something to do with what happened to me five years ago. It’s true Sam and our father had never been close. They were always at each other’s throats, but they always managed to make up in the end. Surely I wasn’t the reason there was bad blood between them? Sam hated me after all.
“Have you cleared out my old room for me?” I consider. Sam shook his head, taking another drag before replying.
“We are short on beds; you will have to sleep in my room for the time being until I can find you another apartment,” Sam admits, not meeting my eyes.
“Seriously, Sam. After everything that’s happened, you’re still not going to let me stay here?” I counter, my heart sinking at the idea of starting again somewhere new. Being at the Clubhouse felt like coming home. I had been on my own for so long I had forgotten what it was like to be a part of something.
“I’m not kicking you out; I want you close by so I can keep an eye on you. We can find something in town, then at least you still have your own space away from all of this shit,” Sam compromises, glancing at me sidelong. I considered this for a moment; it wasn’t exactly what I wanted, but having my own place close by didn’t seem all that bad. I could come over whenever I wanted and wouldn’t have to deal with male bullshit 24 hours of the day.
“I want a dog.”
“Why?” Sam frowns.
“For protection.” I lie, “dogs are far better behaved and nicer to look at than having a man around the place.”
“Fine, whatever,” he agreed. We are silent for a long minute. Then Sam asks, “Do you have a boyfriend?” not looking pleased with the idea.
“Like I’d tell you if I did! You and Cal would likely kill the guy,” I laugh, pluck the cigarette from Sam’s fingers, and inhaled. Sam furrowed his brow at me, quickly snatching the stick from my hands.
“Don’t smoke. It’s bad for you,” Sam growled disapprovingly.
“You don’t get to tell me what to do anymore, and don’t be such a hypocrite,” I dismiss, poking him in the shoulder.
“I don’t give a shit if your sixteen or ninety-two; I’m still going to be your brother, and my word is law,” Sam insists, narrowing his eyes at me. I laugh.
It was good to know at least some things haven’t changed. I walk away from him toward the Clubhouse; halfway to the door, I look back over my shoulder at him. Sam’s gaze quickly snaps up to meet mine, his face carefully blank. “I wonder, big brother, how exactly do you plan on enforcing these rules?” I smirk, not giving him time to reply before stepping into the Clubhouse—my hips swaying with every step.
Gifts
-- Gift
received Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone