Gang Up: A Bikerland Novel Read Free Page A

smiling amiably, never talking back. Robin believed all of this with her heart and soul. She burned inside to some day be a good wife for a strong, sure man who could lead her around, fuck her rotten, breed her stupid until she was drooling out praises and mindlessly sucking on his cock for hours at a time.
    That Abigail got away with doing absolutely none of that must have driven Sandra wild, but Titus had favored the girl and treated her like a son, even though she was not his natural daughter. He’d always wanted two boys, he would say, taking Abigail and Case out on some hunt or raid.
    Case, Sandra, Abigail and Troy walked to the back room, the conference room. Robin watched them go past and then turned back to the bar, ordering another beer.
    “No,” said Sandra. “Inside.”
    “What?”
    “You may as well get used to it now. There’s no stopping it.”
    This surprised Robin. She ran the numbers for the gang’s legitimate businesses—Titus had always wanted her to be the face of their public side. She was a chameleon—able to slide effortlessly between the leather-and-denim world of The Mud Pit and the suits-and-skirts land of the rich traders who came in from Dallas, a bustling metropolis which was still standing from all accounts (if, of course, rather drastically reduced in size and population from the Long War). From the brutally primal warrior men of the Family, she was afforded, if not respect, at least deference in matters of money.
    But now Titus was dead.
    And Troy was alive and well—her stepbrother, so hulking and terrifying. Eyes always on her. Waiting to have her alone with him in the house. Maybe in charge soon, if Case didn't edge him out. Or kill him.
    God, wasn't that a lovely thought? Big, strong Case, strangling Troy to death. Maybe Robin could cheer him on while it happened.
    Not that she would, of course. It was just a fantasy. Troy had fucked with her life for far too long to not fantasize about such things.
    They stepped inside the conference room and circled around. Overhead was a long hanging light, the sort that went over a pool table. Pre-war pictures of dogs and landscapes were on the wall. Robin sat in one corner. Abigail sat next to Case, and Troy far down the table on one end. Sandra sat across from him, glaring coldly.
    “There’s a problem here and we’ve got to sort it,” said Case.
    “I don’t see a problem at all,” said Troy. The rubber lining around the table squealed and shifted in his hands.
    Case gave him a look. “I want us to find some agreement amenable to both of us, all right? We’ve got to get along. Otherwise those Cauldron bastards will run right over us.”
    Troy had something else smart to say, Robin could tell. But he swallowed the remark and nodded.
    “Okay,” said Case. “We need to bring our families together. Titus talked about it all the time. You had your loyalty to him. All the work you two did for one another.”
    “He was my blood.”
    “And I’m not. And I know that. But I know you respect blood. And I know as much as you want other things, you don’t want war with the good men you’ve fought with. And you don’t want the Cauldron to ruin everything we’ve made.”
    “You been thinking hard, boy. But you’re dead wrong if you thinking you walk out here in charge.”
    “I’m proposing a joint rule. Everyone on the council gets a vote, and we each get a veto. That way, we aren’t stepping on each other’s toes.”
    Titus had, beneath his own rule, set up a council of sorts of veteran riders and even women. Well, one woman—Sandra. But he had let it slip that he wanted Robin on the council in the future.
    Case let that simmer for a minute.
    “And?” Troy's posture languid, unimpressed.
    “And,” said Case, “you’re to mate Sandra. After a year passes.”
    Troy snorted. “A year?”
    “She’s got to show mourning. Otherwise all the boys, they’ll get ideas about what happened. Not me, you understand. I know you’re