Jace The Devious Men MC

Emma “Dawson, hurry up! We’re going to be late for school, bud!” “Coming, Mom!” I grab my tote bag, stuffed with the work I brought home last night, just as Dawson barrels into the kitchen — hair messy, shoes untied, and full of energy. “Let’s get going, kid,” I say with a smile. We pile into my ten-year-old sedan, the kind that rattles when it starts but still gets us where we need to go. The morning air smells like pine and wet pavement — small-town Oregon through and through. The drive to school only takes five minutes, and from there, it’s a short trip down the street to the library where I work. “Bye, baby! See you after school!” I call out as Dawson slams the door and takes off toward the building. He doesn’t look back. I can’t help but laugh. He’s growing up too fast. Our town is a perfect little circle — courthouse in the center, the all-ages school on one side, and the stores scattered around the rest. Willow Point. A hidden gem tucked in Oregon’s piney woods. I found it about a year after Dawson was born. I’m originally from Los Angeles, and after having him, I needed peace — somewhere quiet and steady. I saw pictures of Willow Point online, and my heart just… knew. So, I packed up everything we owned, buckled Dawson into his car seat, and drove until the city lights disappeared. And here we are. At the next stoplight, a low rumble cuts through the still morning. You can feel it before you see it. The Devious Men Motorcycle Club rolls through town, engines growling like thunder. Chrome flashes, leather glints, and a dozen pairs of eyes scan the street like predators on patrol. They’re rough. Intimidating. Dangerous. But there’s something magnetic about them too — like watching fire from just close enough to feel the heat. A honk jolts me back to reality. The light’s green. I wave an apology through the windshield and keep driving. The library parking lot is small but familiar, like everything else in this town. I pull into my usual spot, grab my bag, and head inside. “Good morning, Emma!” I look up and smile at Stella, our head librarian — the kind of woman everyone in town just loves. Silver hair, round glasses, and a heart big enough to make anyone feel welcome. “Morning, Stella! I finished those copies we needed for this weekend’s event.” “Oh, you’re such a dear!” she beams. “This weekend’s book club will be wonderful. And don’t forget, the first graders are coming Thursday for their field trip. I’ll need you to plan the day and talk to Adam about the petting zoo.” “Consider it done.” I head to my little back office, where the smell of old books and fresh paper always makes me feel at home. A quiet morning. Just how I like it. At least for now. ⸻ Jace “Hey, man, time to load up. Word is the Crimson Cobras are trying to take over Jake’s motel.” I toss the words toward Wiley, our sergeant-at-arms. He lets out a sharp whistle and takes off running, yelling, “Let’s go, people!” Engines roar to life around us. The Devious Men MC — protectors of Willow Point. Some folks call us outlaws. Others call us guardian angels. Truth is, we’re a bit of both. We handle what the law can’t. And we do it our way. Being this close to the Canadian border brings trouble. The Crimson Cobras — a gang trying to make a name for themselves — have been testing boundaries. They want to use the stretch of highway that runs through our town as their own little pipeline. They don’t realize they’re walking into fire. As we thunder down Main Street, I spot a dark blue sedan waiting at a stoplight. Emma. Our town’s librarian. Moved here about eight years ago — quiet, kind, always smiling when I walk in. There’s something about her that settles me, even if we’ve never really talked. She doesn’t belong in this world, but I can’t help watching her drive away. Ace rides ahead of me — our club president and my best friend. Our dads built this club from the ground up, and now it’s our turn to keep it alive, clean, and strong. To my right is Wiley. We call him that because he’s like Wile E. Coyote — wild, fast, and usually one bad decision away from a crash. Behind us ride our brothers — men we’ve grown up with, worked with, and bled beside. This is family. When we reach Jake’s motel on the edge of town, two men wearing red Cobra patches stand out front. I nod to Ace, then to Wiley. We move in together. Ace steps forward first. “What seems to be the problem, boys?” One of them smirks. “No problem here. Just stopping through. Need a place to stay — maybe for a while.” “Right.” Ace shoves past him and pushes open the double doors. Wiley and I follow. Inside, Jimmy — the Cobra’s second-in-command — leans against the counter, arms crossed. “Jimmy,” I growl. “What the hell are you doing on my side of town?” He shrugs. “Relax, Jace. Just stopping for the night. No trouble.” Ace steps closer. “That’s not what I heard. This motel’s in my town. And my town is off-limits.” Jimmy’s eyes dart between us, his smirk faltering. I can see the wheels turning — weighing if we’re bluffing or not. “Just leave,” Ace says flatly. “Move up the interstate and go home.” Outside, the sound of our engines idling makes his decision for him. Jimmy raises both hands in surrender. “Sure, Ace. No trouble. We’ll find somewhere else.” He backs out, and within minutes, they’re gone. Too easy. Way too easy. Jake stands frozen behind the front desk, pale as paper. “What happened, Jake? Did they say anything when they came in?” I ask. He shakes his head. “It was weird. I recognized their insignia, had Myra call you, but… they just acted normal. Asked for rooms. Nothing else.” Ace and I exchange a look. We were tested. And something tells me the real test hasn’t even started yet.