Wild:Tiger's Blood MC

By: Heather West

Chapter One

Persephone - Two Weeks Ago

I ran a hand through my dark hair and looked around the room. This night, the thirteenth of October, was something special. This was the anniversary of the day my motorcycle club became a real, legit business. And tonight, my girls and I were going to celebrate like we owned the place.

“This is incredible,” Vero said. She sidled up next to me and took a long sip of tequila from a glass clutched in her hand. “Can you believe it, Seph?”

I shook my head but I couldn’t help grinning. “I know,” I replied. “It’s fucking amazing, and I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Vero grinned back. She was my oldest friend among the girls, the person I trusted the most in the world. Years ago, when everything had really started going downhill for me, Vero was the one who’d picked me back up and made things okay again. I owed my life to her, and only her. I hadn’t trusted her at first – she’d always had a bad reputation around town. But after I got to know her, I realized that her critics were just jealous. Either that, or they couldn’t stand the idea of a woman biker. Vero was the strongest fighter of the group, someone who really deserved the patches she wore.

“You should be proud,” Vero said. She pulled me closer and bumped her hip against mine. We both exploded into giggles like a couple of college girls.

“I am,” I admitted. “But I want to grow the club, you know? I really want to make things happen for us.” I sighed. “A few years ago, we were just another MC trying to carve out our place in the world. But now, Vero, we can take over the whole fuckin’ city.” I grinned. The windows were open and the cool fall Los Angeles air was streaming in. I loved the city; it was anonymous, it was dark, and most of all, it was powerful. And tonight, it felt like we owned the damn place.

Looking around at my girls, I was filled with a sense of pride. This was a real club, a real sisterhood. None of that backstabbing shit that went along with being in an MC. These girls were likely family, and it was my duty to protect every single one of them. I loved being president, and I’d defend my role with my life. It wasn’t enough to keep my girls alive and well-moneyed—I wanted to make a real mark. I wanted to show all those goddamn men out there that I was just as tough as they were.

“Boss,” Vero said, leaning down close. “Look, Lydia just got here.”

I watched as Lydia, one of the newest members, slunk into the room. Her shiny brown hair was loose and draped over one shoulder. Lydia was still new; her eyes bugged out every time she saw a gun, and she had porcelain skin that hadn’t yet acquired the perma-tan from riding out on the road. But she was tough, feisty, and smart—a combination I liked in all of my girls. Lydia was good, she wouldn’t fuck up. She wouldn’t get us into trouble.

“Hey,” I said as Lydia strolled over and thrust a bottle of aged bourbon into my waiting hands. “How’re things?”

Lydia sighed. She looked nervous all of a sudden, shifting her weight from one foot to the other and glancing around the room. “I don’t know,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “I know this sounds kinds of weird, but I think someone may have followed me here.”

Vero laughed—a deep, rumbling sound. “Ain’t no one getting in our clubhouse,” she said defensively, sucking her big front teeth. “Want me to go outside and take a look?”

I thought about it. Sure, Lydia was a scaredy-cat. But Vero knew what she was doing, and I realized that other clubs probably knew tonight was our anniversary. Our guard was down, we were partying hard. It wouldn’t be the worst time to strike an offensive.

“Yeah,” I said after a beat. “Go check it out. Want someone to go with you?”

Vero grinned at me and reached down, patting the gun she kept at her waist at all times. “I already got someone, boss,” she said, nodding towards the gun. “Don’t you worry about me.”

I watched Vero swagger out of the room with the confidence of a hundred women. Someday, Vero would be the leader of this MC. That was what she wanted; with her fierce expressions, fiery eyes, and attitude that wouldn’t take no for an answer. I was okay with that, but I was glad that she kept me in my place for now. I loved being the president. Someday, I’d retire. Vero was younger than me and hadn’t been around for as long. We’d met a long time ago, but I hadn’t trusted her until she’d come to aid after my parents were first killed. But what she lacked in experience, she made up for in worldliness. I hadn’t ever had a second-in-command as dedicated or as tough, and that was in all my years of biking.

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