Renegade: Desert Knights MC Read Online Free Page A

press up against one another.
     
    “How about I stand beside you when President Clay makes his announcement.” She smiles, her red lips stretching across her tan skin. “I want all these women to know that the only one you’re going home with tonight is me.” Her hand reaches up towards my t-shirt and presses down upon my chest. I can feel her nails push into my skin, as her smile grows darker, richer. She’s an animal claiming its prey, and I’m happy to be marked.
     
    Suddenly, the room instantly quiets. A sea of men part towards the walls, leaving a large space in the front near a makeshift podium we usually use for meetings. Two men walk down the steps of the HQ basement, as everyone whispers excitedly. I turn back to Eve and add, “You won’t have to wait long. Walsh and his, eh, boy are here.”
     
    Clay Walsh owns the room. He’s the politician of the family, though he certainly doesn’t look it. Faded tattoos line his arms and neck, trophies from adventures and conquests within the club. There’s marks for kills and injuries and scenes of famous rides through California and out to Sturgis. His own skin basically tells the story of the club from start to present.
     
    His own father was the founder of the Desert Knights after he got back from Vietnam. And by all accounts, his son Brandon is going to take over the family business when the old man retires. Not that I support it. Brandon Walsh is a sadistic little hellfire with no head on his shoulders. He’s a yes-man to his daddy, a nark who can’t deal with bad behavior the right way, and something about him tells me he’s only concerned with looking out for himself. That’s not exactly what being head of a club with over three hundred working members across the state is about.
     
    Still, I’m loyal to them, and they are to me. I’ve put in the time and hard work, and I am going to finally get my just reward. Feeling Eve cling even tighter to me, her lips just inches from my neck and her hand drifting down towards the buckle of my pants, just seals the deal. I’m ready for this. I’m ready to be the leader I’ve been primed and trained to be.
     
    Clay Walsh clears his throat and slaps his hands together, signaling it’s time to get business taken care. The room goes deathly silent at his command, as his team of leaders gather near the front to hear him better. I, too, step forward, as I feel hands slap my back in a pre-congratulations for what’s to come. That pit in my stomach swells.   
     
    “Knights!” He shouts, making sure that every person in the room can clearly hear him. “Tonight we celebrate! First, it’s with heavy hearts that we say goodbye to our brother, a faithful servant to our cause, a man who has been there for us for nearly forty years now, Jackson Lauder. He will always ride with us as a brother, an equal, even if he’s stepping down from his post.”
     
    A woman dressed in all black comes through the room carrying a large tray full of clear shots. I grab one and raise mine to the sky as the members drink to the man standing to the right of Clay. He bows, as we all shout as one, “To Jackson!” I chug back the vodka and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.
     
    Clay goes back to business. “That brings me to this happy announcement. As many of you know, Jackson was also the head of our road team. We’ve been in need of a good man to take his place for months now, and one person in particular has risen to the occasion.” My hands begin to shake as I hear him speak. I’m usually calm, cool, collected. Right now, though, everything in me turns to globs of mess as I wait for him to call my name.
     
    But he doesn’t.
     
    “Tonight,” he says, his voice bursting with pride, “I’m proud to announce that my boy, Brandon, will be taking over for Jackson, as both the vice president and the captain of the road runners. It’s a tough two jobs, but if there’s anyone I trust the most with making sure our