Home > Cannon (Savage Kings MC : South Carolina Book Series 5)

Cannon (Savage Kings MC : South Carolina Book Series 5)
Author: Lane Hart

 

Chapter One

 

 

Cannon Erikson

 

 

I’m fucking exhausted.

Thoughts of vengeance for my brother Conrad, his girlfriend Hannah, and the entire Savage Kings MC are all that are keeping me on my feet, a broom in my frozen, chapped hands thanks to the chilly, late-January air that’s been constantly blowing around me.

For the past three days, Darius, the Harley dealership’s one other winter retail employee, along with Lucas and Jake, the club’s two prospects, have been helping me clean up the mess left behind in the showroom. The one that was caused by some kind of Hummer or military vehicle, maybe even a damned tank, rolling through the glass doors and over all of our brand-new bikes. I gotta give whoever did it credit. They didn’t miss a single one. Half a million dollars in inventory was destroyed in the blink of an eye. The insurance company is giving us hell since it was neither a natural disaster nor a robbery. Winston, our main mechanic and fellow brother in the MC, is working with his team in the shop, doing some custom work on the bikes that were still mostly in one piece, trying to salvage what we can.

I don’t like all these negative feelings that are trying to boil over inside of me. My preference has always been to let the small shit slide and keep things light and happy, avoiding anything serious ever.

This direct attack on the Kings is not something that can simply be ignored, unfortunately. And since my brother has a baby on the way, he doesn’t need to any additional stress on his shoulders. I plan to handle this mess for him, if I can, while he lays low.

So far Conrad hasn’t been arrested for beating the shit out of the former police chief, which is more than a miracle. It has to be some sort of plot by the fat fuck who is, at this very moment, daring to walk through the open front of the showroom he destroyed with two uniformed officers on either side of him. The layers of clothes I’m wearing are suddenly too warm thanks to the rage growing inside of me.

“You lost, you porky fucking bastard?” I yell at him, throwing my broom to the ground. From the corner of my eye, I notice Darius, Jake, and Lucas all freeze around me like they’re not sure what to do. The gun tucked into the back of my jeans feels heavier than usual, and the urge to whip it out and either beat the bastard with it or shoot him is so strong I have to ball my hands into fists to resist. I have no doubt that as soon as my hands disappear out of sight for even a second the cops would all gladly go for their guns and put a clip of bullets in me. Even the former chief is armed, his gun holstered next to a shiny badge that I know is worthless. He resigned his position to run for mayor because he wants to try and be threatening. Can’t say I blame him for going armed once I finally get a good look at his fat face. He is still bruised and puffy around both eyes and his lip from the damage Conrad did to him. I’m not exactly sure what tipped my normally calm brother over the edge to violence, but the thought of his pain makes me smirk at him.

“What the hell happened here?” Bailey, the asshole, says as he glances around while hefting up the waist of his khakis. His damned pants haven’t stayed up on their own as long as I’ve known him; he’s had that gut since he was my age. “Looks like you finally pissed off the wrong person.”

“Well, you know the saying, what goes around comes around,” I mutter. “Or even better, karma’s a bitch and then you die.”

“Is that a fucking threat?” one of the uniformed officers grits out as he puts his hand on the butt of his weapon.

Grinning even wider, I ask, “Where were these pussies when my brother was whipping your ass? Looks like you could’ve used the backup then because your face is still fucked up. Or is that how it always looks? I honestly can’t remember your lumpy, ugly ass mug now that it’s covered in bruises.”

“Watch it,” the fucker warns.

“Or what? You’ll drive a tank through our dealership? Too late.”

“I came here to offer you a chance to keep that perverted brother of yours out of prison, but never mind. I’ve had a change of heart. We’ll go pick him up now.”

Goddammit.

The son of a bitch turns to leave, and it takes all of the strength in my soul to swallow down my pride and say, “Wait.” I don’t want Conrad to get locked up; and by running my mouth, I’m only making shit worse.

Looking over his shoulder through his swollen eyes, he says, “You finally ready to play nice?”

“What do you want?” I huff. I’m too tired and too angry to play games with him.

“Take a walk,” he tells the officers, “but stay close.” To me, he says, “Looks like your crew could use a break.”

The officers hesitate at first; but when I give our guys a head nod in the direction of the lounge, they finally head out. The cops slowly walk back outside, down the steps to the parking lot. From there, they can still see us, but they can’t hear, which is obviously what Bailey wanted.

“Just spit it out already,” I tell him, wanting to get this over with. He takes a few steps to come closer but still stays a good three feet away as if he’s afraid I might pound him into the ground like Conrad did.

“I’m prepared to not press charges against Conrad if you’ll agree to do me a favor.”

“A favor? You sure about that? I’m pretty sure that the last time you came in here and asked for a favor, my brother fucked your oldest daughter and knocked her up,” I remind him. “How old is your youngest girl again? Want me to pop her cherry for you?”

He lunges forward, and I know I deserved having his fist plow into my jaw for that low blow, but still, it only makes the urge to choke him with my bare hands even stronger.

“You stay the fuck away from my family!” he warns through clenched teeth as the officers outside come a little closer to check on things.

“As long as you stay the fuck away from mine,” I reply. “And that includes Hannah now. Not that you ever seemed to care about her; just how her actions might hurt your political aspirations.”

About three months ago, the asshole blackmailed my brother into going to get his daughter and bring her home from California because she’d been racking up a few minor criminal charges that he thought may make him look bad in his run to fill the mayor seat in a special election. How convenient that the mayor up and decided to retire in the middle of his term and he hand-selected former chief Bailey to take over for him?

“I don’t give a shit about her. She’s a lost cause,” Bailey replies, flexing his fingers like my jaw hurt them. Good, I’m glad. Hope it hurt him more than it did me. “You and your brother can both have that knocked-up whore for all I care. She’s a god-damned disgrace, and I don’t want anything to do with her.”

I have to grit my teeth to keep from commenting on that statement. If Conrad was here, I’m sure he would’ve killed him by now for insulting the woman he loves; and as a result, he would probably be dead too.

“Now,” Bailey says. “If you’ll shut up for a minute, I’ll tell you what you’re going to do for me unless you want your brother locked up for so long his kid is in kindergarten before he ever meets it.”

“What am I going to do for you?” I grumble. I would do almost anything to avoid that happening to Conrad. It would break him to be away from Hannah or the baby for more than a few days.

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