I speed up the incline at seventy miles per hour, my bike is killing it. The smell of burning rubber is doing no justice to the actual heat my Harley’s taking. If the cops flashed me now, I'd be fucked. Not only did I leave my license back at the room we’re staying in, but the club has no jurisdiction in DC.

The old deputy, Willis was shot a few weeks back. Although the bullet grazed him, he took his family up North for some desk job. The Prez didn't wanna bust the man's balls. We don't even have a chapter this side and hardly spend time in DC to really care enough to bribe him to stay.

The women wouldn't stop nagging about seeing the new club that opened up tonight which is the only reason we're here now.

I was in no way driving 23 hours so they could dance in some club because some punk ass Rockstar was attending.

My first vote was no but Chadley talked my woman, Falon into going.

I waited for her to say something, but she didn't.

One of the new prospects, Den brought it up the next day after church. He publicly announced Falon was joining the girls. I was fucking angry. She didn't say shit when I asked about it again the same night.

I understood that she wanted to keep us quiet because her dad was the President. The man and I served two tours together.

But keeping stuff from me was not something I was going to take, which was why I decided to say fuck-it to all her plans and tell the guys. The sooner I claimed her ass the better my life would be.

When I showed up the morning, they were due to leave, I could tell Falon was surprised. I waited to see if she would get on another brother’s bike so I could disfigure the fuckers face. But one thing about Falon, she knows when not to push her luck.

She jumped behind me without a second thought. I was thrilled, but still too pissed. Which is why when we got to the hotel, I didn't book a room for myself. I doubled with Storm, our VP.

Unlike my other brothers, Storm knows about Falon and I. He doesn't like keeping it quiet, and always gives me shit when we're alone. Neither the fuck do I, but I do it for Falon, surprisingly Storm is doing it for me.

Falon is a petite 26-year-old, with a few heartbreaks, nothing too serious from what she's let slip.

I’m a 31-year-old man with a fakuva lot of baggage. But I didn't want her at the back of another brother’s bike, so angry or not, here I was.

It didn't mean that we were okay. Right now, however, I wish we were.

I turn into 18th Street and my stomach tightens with a sick feeling. If I don't get to Lazers in the next few minutes my woman is not going to be okay, call it a hunch or 8 years serving my country, but I'm never wrong.

When Falon whispered, “someone's coming” and cut the call. I got on my bike and drove.

No helmet or jacket. I didn't tell the brothers nothing, but knowing Storm he’ll figure somethings going down.

He ain't the Vice President of The Satan Sniper's Motorcycle Club for nothing.

3 weeks, 21 days I have been doing this running around shit with Falon and I hate it. Keeping secrets from my brothers, making Storm do it too, it ain't right. I'm the Enforcer of the club. My dad was one of the 6 original members that started the MC nearly 40 years ago.

When I told Falon I wanted her in my bed every night, she gave me a blow job and offered to fuck me bare. She was that happy, then no show for two weeks. I had to hunt her down at her ma’s house in Barfa.

First she acted like it was nothing and she was just busy, which had me walking back to my bike.

It was a few days later when she came looking for me at the Clubhouse, eyes all puffy and shit, telling me she didn't want to stress her dad, and that we should wait six months to tell him.

My first reaction was hell no, but a week later I said fuck it, I missed her.

We spoke it out, more like banged it out and agreed to give things 3 months. I knew the real reason was that she wanted to be sure. I'm not a sure thing for her and I don't blame Falon for having doubts.

Truth is, I have them too, but Falon is the closest thing I'd ever gotten close to loving.

Like most of my brothers that make up The Satan Snipers, I was conditioned not to feel emotion, not to feel remorse.

When we joined the special ops program 8 years ago, we didn't think we’ll ever be free from it all. But Falon had a way of making one forget. No way was I going to let one of the other brothers have her.

Falon has known this life since she was born. She never let it harden her though. Her dad Rounder was 15 when he found out his ex-girlfriend Molly was pregnant with Falon. His dad was the sergeant-at-arms of The Satan Snipers at the time.

At sixteen while my blood brother, Thorn was fucking anything with a cunt, Rounder was a single parent changing his 3-month-old daughter’s diapers.

Apparently, Molly just upped and left.

With the help of the club and Rounder’s mother Haze, Falon turned out pretty good.

I stop my bike outside Lazers. The smell of alcohol, cigarettes and cheap perfume pollute the air in high quantities.

The rave music coming from Lazers is outweighing the other nightclubs. A crowd waiting to join in on the fun that's coming from inside is so long, there’s no way I’ll be able to bargain my way in. But right now, I don't give a fuck.

Normally I wouldn't draw attention to myself, it's my nature to blend in. I was trained to be a ghost and shadow in the army's special ops, and this is going against everything I've been taught, but I need to go fetch my woman.

I jump off my bike and head to the front door. The bouncer is clueless as I walk right up to him. He's too busy flirting with the tall willowy girl with the blonde hair and fake tits.

Two consecutive shots choose that moment to shock everyone. It's coming from behind the club. I'm already rounding the corner in a run. The sound of sobbing speeds my movement. I pause in my tracks doing a double take at the scene before me.

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Falon is in a hunched position. Her jeans are torn off, laying in pieces beside her as she shakes with uncontrolled sobs. I give her body a quick scan. Besides the torn jeans she’s intact.

I can't afford to process anything beyond basic survival right now, not with the tall hooded figure holding a gun and two men dead on the floor.

I edge closer to the figures back.

I'm unnoticed.

My moves silent and breathing evened out.

“Hey Girl, you okay?” The voice is dry, rough and hoarse from lack of water or not talking. I don't care but it's definitely female.

Falon lifts her head toward the female. Her face smeared with make up running down her cheeks. I fight the need to show her any compassion or make sure she acknowledges me. I got to stay focused.

“Ththth...anks,” Falon stutters, hiccupping.

The hooded female lowers the gun to her side and I go in.

Gripping her arms to the side I pull the gun out from between her hands. She's fighting me but quickly loses spirit when I release her.

So, she doesn't like to be touched, interesting and opposite to Falon, who craves affection.

Not wasting time, I empty the gun, all the while noticing this girl's breathing is labored.

Ignoring the two opposite women, I jog across to the dead men, rubbing our prints off the gun, and put the two dead men prints on it. I finish with the blonde guys cold hand and lay the gun next to him as the back-door swings open.

People swarm through as my gaze goes to where Falon is, but she's not there. At my full height I scan the crowd and see the hooded girl pulling Falon in-between the dumpster. The hood girl is quick and doesn't understand what the fuck she just did, who she just saved.

Not only did she save the Prez daughter’s life, but she saved my woman's pride too.

The people crowd the dead bodies, some taking pics, others screaming or crying. Majority are just standing there staring at the two dead guys, and wondering what the fuck happened.

Wisp rushes over to me, her hazel eyes glassy, lips thinned. Her short denim skirt barely covers her pussy. The busty leather thing she has covering her tits is no better.

Storm and Texas are going to turn her hide.

We might be an all sexist club but the guys who have claimed one of our own, whether temporarily or permanent take their commitments very fucking seriously.

And there's no doubt that Texas isn't going to let her slide this one out with a few fucks. We don't mind the girls dressing in skimpy shit around the Clubhouse. In public we mind, we’re territorial motherfuckers and have killed for much less.

The women know better. Wisp knows better.

I kiss her head so I don't draw attention to us.

“Call Den and Spade, and make sure you give a heads up to Storm, cops are gonna be here any minute.”

I retreat backwards, my steps are slow as not to make things obvious. Stopping next to the dumpster, I lean on it casually.

“Falon, we need to go baby the cops are gonna be here any minute.”

“We take the girl.”

It takes me a second to realize that was an order, shit, this bitch really saved my woman to have her standing up to me.

Falon might keep secrets and try to be tough, but it's her nature to be pliant.

She's never given an order, but right now she's speaking to me as the President’s daughter, not as her man.

What she doesn't know is, in no fucking way was I leaving the hooded chick behind. When she killed those guys, she passed the biggest test of The Satan Snipers, we have to protect her and take her in.

But I'm a fucking man, if my woman wants to think it was her choice and she's calling the shots then that's what she gets.

“Ok, let's move.”

They both start to come out, the other girl still covered in a hoody comes first and fuck, what's that smell.

I sniff closer to her, she reeks, yuck.

I retreat a few steps away from her when Falon comes out wearing haggard ripped jeans that are a few sizes too big.

At least she's covered. It's then, it clicks. This girl is homeless, she was sleeping here. I grab hold of Falon’s arm rubbing my thumb on it for only a second. It’s not in me to show too much affection unless I'm fucking, but the small show of affection lets her know I was worried.

We start walking, the other girl following behind Falon, until we stop where I parked my bike. The cops are already stationed, ushering people out of the way, so they can close the doors. No one gets in or out.

I pull the girls to my bike, hearing the roars of my brother’s bikes coming up the road.

The three of us wait for them.

Storm turns his black chrome and parks it directly in the middle of all the chaos whilst the others stay on their bikes and park across the street.

He pulls his helmet off and I notice his cut missing.

A quick look across the road, I know the others are also missing their cuts. They were obviously warned in time and decided not to draw the unwanted attention.

The faded jeans and white t-shirt I'm wearing makes me blend in too.

I watch Storm ruffle his brown hair until it's all pushed back. His eyes scan the bustling crowd, until it lands on us.

I got Falon’s hand in a tight grip, and she's holding the homeless girl’s arm. So, she doesn't like men touching her, I wonder how fucked up this homeless girl is.

Storm is a few inches taller than my 6ft 4in, but suffered a back injury a few years back. The hunch he has now is telling me that my brother's back is killing him, shit.

“We gotta leave now,” He says.

“Prez called, he spoke to the detective, they giving us ten to get moving.”

I look Falon over, her skin isn't glowing, it's green instead and we don't have a fucking cage to put her in. She's gonna have to hold it in a bit longer.

Storm sees my hesitation and notices the hooded girl.

His interest in her makes me want to barf. He hasn't smelt the bitch yet. I would smile if we had more time or if the circumstances were different.

“She can ride with you, Falon’s with me.”

He doesn't argue, he walks to his bike and the homeless girl follows.

I don't hear what she tells him or he tells her, but the smile playing on his lips when she says something almost makes me want to punch it off his face.

Fuck, What the hell is wrong with me?

Falon and I cross the street just as Jade, Wisp, Chadley, Den, Spade and Venus run up to us.

“I’m so sorry Fal,” Den says

My jaw tightens, “You not yet. But when I'm fuckin’ done with you, you would be motherfucker.”

Falon touches my arm, it's the first contact she's voluntarily given me since I found her hunched over.

“Please, Zero not now.”

My death glare trained on him makes my message clear, I'm dropping this now, but we far from fucking done, he messed up and big time.

Den had one task: - watch Falon.

Spade was looking after the other girls, more so Wisp and Chadley, who couldn't protect themselves.

Den should've paid more attention, did what he was fucking told to do.

We cross the road and the others do well to be quiet, especially ‘cause I know the girls are dying to ask what happened.

When Texas, Knight and Bull are in hearing shot, still on their bikes I order them,

“We shoot straight to Kanla, two stops. We need to get to church.” The lot nods. Knight’s face, grim, because he knows what that means.

Wisp glances across the road watching Storm. Curious I follow her lead.

What the fuck, Storm is slipping his helmet on the homeless girl’s head, not the spare one he keeps for Wisp.

Her hoody is down and it's darker where they're standing at the edge of the pavement.

Storm leans on his bike and the light to the club goes on.

My eyes glue to the vision that's all away across the road.

Her skin is so fucking pale and hair so dark.

I don't stop watching them until her helmet is fully on her head and her face now hidden behind the dark glass.

Slowly her hand lifts to rest on Storm’s shoulder. I feel something, but I'm not sure what the hell I’m feeling and I don't fucking like it.

The small huff from Wisp is noticed by all of us and pulls me from the fucking trance.

She's pissed off that he's giving his helmet up for the homeless girl, but Wisp doesn't know what she did for Falon. And we don't have time to talk and explain shit.

I grab Falon by the arm. She hasn't said a word to anyone. I move across the road just as the other brothers rev their bikes getting ready to hit the road.

By the time we’re getting on my bike, Storm has the homeless girl's arms wrapped around him, and his speeding off to take his place in the front next to Bull, our road captain.

“Hang in there Baby.”

“I’m fine, let’s just get out of here.” Falon’s abruptness doesn't sound good.

I know I should comfort her but we gotta move. We can't deal with this now.

If I show Falon a shred of comfort she's going to break. It's all over her face.

Once her arms are secured around my waist, my bike throttles and we’re gone.

It’s two minutes when I take my place at the back of the formation, at the back of my brothers.

Watching them, protecting them, guarding them. It's why I am the enforcer of The Satan Sniper's Motorcycle Club. I've always had this way of seeing when shit is about to happen.

We hit the freeway and I catch a glimpse of my VP with the girl on his back, and I just know things are about to get complicated.