Sharing Freedom

Chapter One

“What time is church? f*****g wiring needs redone,” Colton ‘Easy’ Strait asked gruffly. His grey eyes focused on the clock above the door. He was leaned back in his chair with his arm thrown over the back, and he looked like he was going to break it. He was huge, bigger now than when he was in the military, since now he had a state of the art gym at the club to use. He kept his dark military style haircut still because the one time he tried to grow it out, the guys said he looked like Bigfoot. He kept his facial hair trimmed and close to his face, so it always looked like he had five o’clock shadow. He stood six feet seven and his arms were bigger than the current stripper’s waist which was dancing for them. Easy’s grey eyes took in everything in the room, even if it didn’t look like it. His tribal tats were what drew the women to him; they extended from one bicep across his back to the other. In the middle of his back was the Ops Warriors’ tat; Warriors were in green and blue—their colors.

When he was growing up his father knew he was going to be big, so he beat the s**t out of him while he was still small enough to scare him into thinking his father was in charge. His mother was a small woman who didn’t care enough to stick up for him; she was trying to survive as well. What the old man didn’t realize was that Colton refused to be beat down like that, he wasn’t afraid—he was smart, so he waited until he was big enough, then one night when his father was drunk, Colton showed him just who was stronger. When he enlisted, his father told him not to bother coming home when he failed. He never did.

“In an hour,” Eric ‘Poke’ Brund replied, looking at the stage in front of him. Poke was the classic drop-dead gorgeous biker. Long black flowing hair, icy blue eyes, muscles in all the right places, and a smooth face that still made him look dangerous. He stood six feet four, and when the men were seen together, which was usually the case, panties grew wet and were dropped right away. His club tat in the middle of his back was the only tat he wore, the only one he wanted—it showed he belonged.

His mother was the town w***e; he had no idea who his father was. He learned early not to open his door on nights his mom worked. On other nights, he had to take care of his mother when she shot up to forget her miserable life. He was going nowhere fast; he stole food when he needed, then graduated to bigger things to help pay the bills. When he was caught at seventeen stealing a car, the judge gave him a choice—enlist or go to jail. He signed the enlistment papers, met Colton, and never looked back.

They were the brawn of the club as SGTs of Arms for the Ops Warriors MC, sharing the position, and two of the meanest muther fuckers in Nevada. The leaders of the Warriors had been in the military together. All stationed at the same base in the Middle East, when their time ran out, they had punched out.

At first, they had tried to make it in the ‘real’ world. All of them had issues and couldn’t fit in. The only thing they trusted were the men they served with, they were family. Easy and Poke had stuck together when they got out, moving from place to place. They were security experts, and with their training, they had been able to write their ticket on the outside. However, dealing with civilians was not their thing. They ended up pissing people off when they told them they were dumb f***s for their ideas about security.

Their President, Joel ‘Creed’ Thomas, had grown up in a club, and had let the guys know when he got out he was taking over for his dad. Before he left the base, he told the guys to look him up if they were interested. One by one, they had all come. Fork was first, and then Easy and Poke. The four of them made some calls and soon, even some of the guys who had retired before they began to show up, it led to more people hearing about them, increasing the rep Creed's dad's club already had, making them a force no one wanted to f**k with.

They pooled their retirement together and began the strip club; it was their first business to help contribute to the club's funds. The mysterious rumors of killing people for their money had only added to their reps. Of course, only one of them were true and the asshole had owed them the money, but who cared. When people looked at the rough and rugged men, they assumed they were stupid, uneducated bikers who only knew violence. They didn't look beyond the long hair, tattoos, and piercings. If they had, they would be surprised to know that most of them had college degrees, and the Trez, their treasurer, Steve ‘Numbers' Grim, was one of the smartest bastards they would ever meet, and he could still beat the s**t out of most men. Being smart and tough were not exclusive.

Numbers had been the one to convince them to buy the abandoned mine. At first, they wanted to use the place for the new headquarters of their motorcycle club. They had a cave-in on the property when they were going to lay the foundation, and they had discovered a literal gold mine. Now they had a working mine on one side of their property and a club on the other. It worked for them since the security covered both places. But they made sure to have a dividing line between the two; only a few people knew the Warriors owned the mine. Since they couldn't see the motorcycle club from the road, people assumed they leased and lived in the old buildings that had been on the property before. The rat-infested shacks had been the first things to go. No one knew what was out there unless they had been invited, and if they talked, they disappeared. Those were the rules, and they were scary enough to follow through.

“You have the papers?” Easy asked. They had been looking into the girls who worked for the club. Pot was the norm in Sexy Bitches but most of the time the hard stuff didn’t come in, lately a few of the girls looked a little strung out, and Creed wanted to know who they were getting their s**t from.

“Yeah,” Poke winked at the stripper who was dancing in front of them. He patted the folder in front of him never taking his eyes off Shady.

They were currently in the first place the club purchased when they got their money. Sexy Bitches was the best strip bar in Nevada if you looked at that kind of lists. It was known not only for the quality of women they hired, but also for their security. Even all the s**t that went with strip clubs, they kept the brawling to a minimum. Most everything else was a go, anything and everything a man could want.

The place was decorated for men. The red carpet and black leather furniture made it appealing. There were five stages for when they were busy, but during the day, only two were used. They had booths along the walls, and then the five tables that were all attached. The lights were always kept on low, except for the dancers’ tables. That is where they wanted the guys’ eyes. The large bar along the entire length of the back of the club had mirrors so even there the men could watch the women. The women wandered the floor between serving, performing lap dances and body shots. If the customer wanted more, they had to talk to the managers. Then only if they could strike a deal, and if both people consented. There were three rooms guarded by Prospects that held a chair and nothing else, the rooms in the far back were off limits to guests.

Now the bar across the road, which they also owned, called Lucky’s, was another story. That was where, on any given night, a biker brawl could break out just because someone looked wrong. It was another place where the Warriors ruled and were able to cut loose without worry of any recriminations. Booze was booze, and p***y was p***y, the guys knew where to go to cut loose, or get laid, the leaders didn’t do both in public. That bar was pure country; it held wooden tables and a mechanical bull in the corner. The huge dance floor in the center sometimes was changed into a fight club on rowdy nights. At least the tables and chairs were made of sturdy wood. For the Warriors it meant they didn’t have to replace them every time they turned around. One of the brothers called Shark ran the bar.

“f**k,” Poke said and shifted a little as he watched Shady dance. “After the meeting I need some pussy.”

“s**t, you always need some p***y,” Easy said and lifted the beer to his lips. Although he felt the same way, they hadn’t f****d a woman for two days, and he needed a release in a bad way.

“What club rat works tonight?” Poke asked Shady when she bent down to show them her t**s.

“Everyone,” Shady laughed and licked her lips slowly as she moved seductively in front of them.

“Make sure they know Easy and I need our c***s taken care of,” Poke said and reached up and pinched her n****e hard. Shady moaned and nodded.

Ted ‘Maxi’ Denold walked up to the table. He stared at the stripper across the room from them and frowned. “Where’d the new w***e come from?” he asked.

Poke leaned around so he could see the other woman and he grinned. “Creed hired her. She came in last night.”

“Well f**k, we are gonna lose money on that piece of ass, she won’t get a rise out of any pricks,” Maxi said, and the men laughed.

The woman was obviously a novice, the one thing she had going for her was her long, red, curly hair and voluptuous body to distract men from her dancing. Even from where they were sitting they could see her bright green eyes, s**t they were sexy. Easy frowned as he noticed the woman for the first time. She didn’t look like she belonged here. Even though she was smoking hot, her movements weren’t smooth, but it didn't keep his c**k from going hard even as he watched the chick move like a freak.

“Damn,” Easy said and shook his head. Poke looked at his usually quiet friend and raised his eyebrows. Easy got his name for never saying much, he was quiet, but deadly, when he struck, most never saw it coming. The scars on his face and body showed that if pushed, things could get ugly with the huge fucker.

“What?” Poke said and grabbed the beer in front of him and took a long pull after releasing Shady’s n****e.

“How are you supposed to get a hard-on watching that? A b***h should have us beggin’ for a f*****g taste, watching her makes me check to make sure my d**k is still f*****g alive,” Maxi grumbled.

“She has great t**s, hell, I am getting hard looking at her,” Poke shrugged.

“What the f**k is wrong with you, she looks like she is having a seizure,” Easy argued even as he adjusted in his seat. Damn, he was hard himself, yeah, he definitely needed to shoot his load. “Besides, you get f*****g hard when the damn wind blows.”

“Come on, who cares how she dances, she looks like she could f**k like a champ,” Poke said.

Easy rolled his eyes, of course his best friend would say that. He got his road name Poke because he would poke any woman he could. He was a man-w***e and proud of it. Easy was one of the few that knew his mother was a w***e, it explained a few things, which is why they worked so well together when it came to women. Easy didn’t show much emotion, and Poke faked a lot of it. They were the perfect match.

Like the rest of them who served in the military and had been in war zones—it changed them. They couldn’t follow normal rules, when they were in combat a certain mindset came into play, it was all about justice to these men. They had seen, more often than not, s**t that wasn’t right, but the laws had hampered them. They had gotten in trouble the one time they had intervened when a group of militants was r****g a young girl on the side of the road. The Warriors believed in delivering their own justice, what was right was right. Which is why the Ops Warriors MC was feared and respected. People knew not to cross them, if they did, they had better be able to deal with the consequences.

“Hey,” Poke laughed and said, “p***y is p***y, and as long as I don’t have to put a bag over her head it is all good.”

“Prick,” Easy laughed and the men stood. Maxi groaned when Candy, the woman who belonged to the club and an experienced dancer, came to take the new chick’s place.

“Damn, Candy is coming. s**t, I swear I can see her juice from here,” Maxi said, running his hand over the crotch of his pants and adjusting himself.

Easy shook his head at the man’s tone. When would he ever learn, his whiny p***y tone is what got him the nickname Maxi, he was lucky they hadn’t given him the one they first picked, which was Kotex. They agreed, however, Maxi encompassed his p***y high voice when he whined. He sounded like a slut on the rag.

“She will be coming later too, you know her, once she gets on that pole, she'll f**k herself raw to keep the orgasms real.” Poke laughed.

Another thing that attracted the men to the club lifestyle, the s****l freedom they had. These men all liked s*x, rough and dirty s*x, and were not ashamed to admit it. The women who belonged to the club knew it and accepted it. The hangers-on came for the parties, wanting to get laid and drink for a few days and then go home to their pretty lives; the women of the club lived with them and believed the same as they did.

“Come on, b***h,” Poke said to Maxi. “Church is about to begin.”

Easy laughed, anyone who lived with them knew church was a meeting. They considered them sacred, which was the reason for the name.

They walked to the stairs and climbed to the top, nodding at several of the other members who were just arriving. The whole top floor of Bitches was a meeting room, it was where they dealt with strictly club business. When Creed had it built, he made sure one, it was soundproof and two, there were two entrances and exits. One everyone knew about and one only the leaders knew about, in case one of their issues needed burying after the meeting.

By the time everyone arrived in the meeting room, the leaders were seated up front. Creed was the President and his VP, Dex ‘Fork’ Vertim, was right next to him. Then Easy and Poke, the SGTs of Arms, were seated to their left. On their right were Numbers and Secretary, Tom ‘Raven’ Lourd. The rest of the room held their members of this region, all sixty of them. All of them lived on the compound, although only twenty lived in the main house. The others lived in their own homes, if they had an old lady, or they lived in the apartments they built. All of them partied at the main house. There were only a few rules while at a Warriors' party, everyone was there of their own free will, and respected the club. Anything else was free game.

Creed leaned back in his chair and whistled loudly, telling everyone to shut the f**k up and then said, “Call the meeting to order.”

Raven read the meeting notes from last time and Easy zoned off. The last week had been long; he and Poke had just gotten back from a run to the coast. One of the other Warriors' chapters they had in Cali needed more protection and they provided it. The guns they had taken were clean and untraceable; it was necessary to shift weapons every few months in case. Their barrels were sanded so the marks would never be identified. The Shop on the compound took care of that. Shady was in charge of the Shop, the woman knew her guns; growing up in another club, Shady had picked up the skill from her father.

As SGTs of Arms, Easy and Poke were the enforcers of the group, they were all freaky badasses, but the two of them were the best, they were the clubs own private law. The two men were Security Forces in the military—they took their job seriously. They also helped train a few guys to help in case they needed muscle. They called them Arms, and no one f****d with them.

“Poke,” Creed said loudly. “What is the status of the Shop?”

Easy smiled, that was part of their duties, to monitor the Shop, no weapons were given to anyone who didn’t know how to use them. Each member could carry as long as they had a permit and were cleared with the Arms. And no weapon was cleared unless they knew why it needed it. If one of the dipshits shot up a local place for no reason, they would be dealt with.

They owned Bitches and Lucky’s as well as Slinging Ink, their tattoo parlor. The businesses all sat on Warriors' property, they wanted them all close, so they bought the land right in front of the mine and opened their businesses. Slinging Ink pulled in a great profit because everyone wanted Kink, the brother who ran Slinging Ink, to do their tats. He was known in the MC world as the best of the best. All in all, the club made big money, with the mine and the shops, they could sit and drink beer all fat and happy and never have to worry about a thing. However, it wasn’t who they were, they needed a purpose, and the Warriors gave them that.

As the meeting began to wrap up, the men stood, and Easy couldn’t help but turn to their leader and ask, “Creed, what the f**k is up with hiring the new piece of ass?”

Creed narrowed his eyes and looked at his friend. “Why?”

“Have you seen her dance?” Easy asked.

“Nah, looked at her t**s, then hired her.” Creed laughed. “Where are my reports?”

Poke shook his head and handed them to their leader. "One of the cunts is bringing it in, don't know who. We need to do some more digging. And the new stripper is…uh, interesting."

"Interesting? The w***e has no skill in making a man hard. She is like a f*****g spaz on stage. If you wanna make any money off her, you are gonna have to set her up with Shady for lessons," Easy said and then looked at Poke who was laughing. "What?"

"I just don't know why you give a s**t," Poke said.

"Those whores make us f*****g money, if one of the bitches can't f*****g perform it is gonna give us a bad name. Just don't wanna have to kick someone's ass for badmouthing one of our strippers.” Easy shrugged and Creed shook his head.

“Really?” Shark said as he walked by. “Who the f**k is badmouthing one of our ladies?”

Creed and Raven ran the club hiring, but Shark and Magnum were the managers. They took their job seriously, and one of the biggest things they cared about was making sure one, the women were safe and two, they knew the score.

Creed rolled his eyes and sighed. “Listen, she came in last night, asked for a job. Rain wants to go back to school and we needed a new girl. You know how hard it is to find quality p***y. She is hot, a little uptight, but she said she was willing to learn. She seemed desperate, I gave her a shot, if she doesn’t work out she doesn’t.”

Easy frowned and looked at Poke who was doing the same. They both were suspicious fuckers and Poke said, “She walked in at night? To a strip club?”

They didn’t usually hire like that. Creed wanted the women checked out before they were hired, they had to have tests for drugs and diseases before even being allowed on stage. For Creed to have hired her right off the street, there had to be something else going on.

Creed sighed. “Look, seemed like she is in trouble. She didn’t say anything, but when she came in she was wearing a nice pair of pants and top like someone from an office would wear. Didn’t make sense, I asked her, and she got a scared look on her face, then said she needed to make money to get out of the area. I told her the prereqs and she just looked at me with her eyes wide. I knew she was clean. Don’t really care as long as she's willing to spread her legs and able to get a man hard.”

“Give me her name,” Poke said seriously.

“Freedom.” Creed grinned.

“Not her nickname, asshole,” Poke growled.

“It’s not a nickname, fucker, and remember who you're speaking to, it is her real name. Freedom Stands, I swear to God.” Creed laughed at the look on other men's faces.

“We will make some inquiries,” Easy said and the two men stood, getting ready to leave.

Several times women had come in under suspicious circumstances and they were either a cop or a plant from another club. Either way, no one ever came in to apply to be a stripper unless they wanted something. As long as it had nothing to do with the Warriors, they were cool.

“About the drugs,” Creed said.

“Yeah, we may have to have a meet and greet with the Diablos. Bring em’ here after our next run, we can lay it out for them, or make them disappear. Their choice.” Poke clenched his fists and grinned.

“Little fuckers think they rule the streets here since they decided to shove their way in. Dealing meth and other s**t to kids is wrong on any level, man,” Easy said.

The Warriors may dip their toes in illegal s**t, but they were adults, and they would never hurt a kid. That was off limits, hell, some of the members had kids, and every Warriors was protective of them. Family first; and the Warriors were all family.