Stryker

Welcome to book 2! This is Stryker and Coral's story. The book starts in the middle of book one where Apollo dies. Don't forget to comment if you're reading. Let me know how you like the book. It will help me know if I should post the next one and keep them free to read!! Stryker Funerals have never been my thing. Too morbid, too much crying. Seen the damn things too many times in my twenty-six years. They don’t get any easier the more they happen, and trust me, they’ve happened a lot in the seven years since I joined the Snakes Henchmen. It seems there’s always one brother or another losing his life for the club or because of the club. Today’s funeral was tough. Today, we buried our President. Apollo was like a grandfather to me and most of the club’s younger members. His grandson, Jett, is a member also, and Apollo’s death has hit him hard, as it has all of us. Apollo was President for longer than I’ve been alive. He was a damn good President and one amazing man. He was crazy in a totally out of his fuckin’ evil mind kind of way, but the man was all about family, and a family is precisely what we all are. His son, Shepard, was patched in as our new Prez the day Apollo died. It was always written that Shepard would take over, as will Jett when Shepard is either killed, dies of natural causes like his old man, or steps down. The funeral was huge. Every brother from our charter to California, New York, and fuckin’ Alaska was there to see off the man who ruled them all. Nothing less would have done. I raised a glass to the man we’ll all miss, but I didn’t stay. I’m not the kind of man who parties hard. Yeah, it sounds weird for a biker to say that, especially in his twenties, but that’s just me. I’m quiet and withdrawn, most would say. It isn’t that I’m anti-social or anything; it’s just that I spent most of my life alone because I can’t deal with too many people all at once. I never felt the need to make myself heard or show my stupid side. I’ll leave that to those who think they have something to prove. I don’t. Have anything to prove, I mean. That isn’t to say I won’t kill a man if he crosses me the wrong way. I’m quiet, not a fuckin’ pushover. I don’t even give a shi.t that others make fun of me for not whoring myself around. I’ll fuc.k who I want when I want, but I have standards. Club whore.s are not my thing. There is nothing wrong with those women other than they’re not fussy about who they sleep with. I’m not into sharing or sleeping with women who have already slept with club members. Who the hell in his right mind wants to fuc.k someone who’s f****d everything on two legs? Excuse me if I want a tight puss.y. If I wanted to fuc.k a gaping hole, I’d drill one in my bedroom wall! I smile slightly as my little brother takes a seat beside me and bumps my shoulder with his. Dominic isn’t really my brother, not by blood; his father, BlackJack, took me in when I was nineteen after I tried to rob him. Yeah, I had a death wish to try to rob a Snakes Henchmen, but I had fuc.k all worth living for back then. Taylor, his wife, adopted me and wouldn’t let me leave. They even gave me their surname as my own, and I took it with pride. Taylor has been more of a mother to me these last seven years than my own ever was. “You all right, bud?” Dominic nods his head while pushing his dark, wavy hair out of his eyes. The boy could use a haircut. “Been a hard day, huh?” “Hate funerals.” “Nobody enjoys them, Dom.” “What you two up to?” “Talkin’ funerals.” Dante, Dominic’s older brother, nods while taking a seat on the other side of me. Dominic is thirteen, and Dante is sixteen. Both boys are tall, but Dominic is still very much a kid, whereas Dante is already gaining muscle. He gets that from working out with me each morning. Dante’s already talking about joining the club. He can’t wait until he’s eighteen. His father won’t allow him even to try joining until then. There is no doubt in my mind, though, that Dominic will one day be a Snake. It’s in his blood as much as his brother’s. “What do you think it’s like?” “What?” I turn my head slightly in Dante’s direction. “Dying.” I narrow my eyes a little. He’s looking up at the sky and the Hawk flying high above us. I watch him curiously as a smile creeps across his face, his eyes closing for a second. I often wonder what the hell goes on in his head. He’s a poet, always rhyming his words, saying stuff you’d only read in books. The kid’s quite profound. Little weirdo. “I imagine it hurts whichever way you look at it,” I answer. “I wonder what it would be like to be a Hawk.” This kid seriously worries me sometimes. “Can you imagine being able to fly so high without a care in the world, to be so free?” “I bet they care when they get shot down from the sky.” Dominic. Always the realist, even if it is illegal to shoot a Hawk. I can’t help but chuckle. “Jerk off!” “Fuc.k face!” Dominic yells back. “That’s enough, you two.” Taylor hands me another beer as her husband wraps his arm around her shoulder. “This isn’t the time to be arguing about anything. We just buried Apollo, show some respect.” “Sorry, Mom.” They say in unison. I clasp both their shoulders and squeeze gently. They’re pains in the asses, but they mean the world to me. “Dominic, it’s time you went in and got ready for bed.” The boy doesn’t say anything. He just gets out of his seat and heads inside. He knows better than to argue with his mother. She’s a force to be reckoned with is Taylor. She even gives me what-for, and I’m in my twenties. “Think I might go see Julian.” “And you can think again!” “What the hell, Mom?” I chuckle. Dante is nothing like Dominic. It must be his hormones. “Calm down Hawk boy. It’s been a hard day. If your mother wants you to stay home, you stay home.” He shoots me an evil look and storms inside. Taylor kisses Jack’s cheek and follows her son into the house. Jack takes a seat beside me. “Things are changing, boy.” “Yeah. Did you think Jett would make VP?” “Written in the stars, Stryker.” “Should have been you.” I swig my beer. BlackJack chuckles under his breath. “Doesn’t matter what rankin’ I have. I’ve been Road Captain for so long that it’s just who I am now. I don’t think I’d want the extra responsibility anyway. Besides, my best friend knows what he’s doin’. If his son is who he wants as VP, who the hell are we to dispute that?” Jack takes everything in his stride. He’s never jealous or envious of anything in this life. He’s grateful for everything he has and doesn’t need anything more. Many a man could take a leaf out of his book. His sons are the same way. He taught me the same lessons. After saying goodnight to BlackJack, I ride my bike back to my apartment. I moved out of Taylor and BlackJack’s a couple of years ago. A man in his twenties should not be living with his parents. Even if they aren’t actually my parents, they’re the closest thing I have to them. My place is nothing special; it has one bedroom, a small living room/kitchen combined, and a tiny box-shaped bathroom with a toilet, washbasin, and a shower cubicle inside. That pretty much sums it up. I don’t have much furniture because I just don’t have the room. However, it does me. I don’t need anything else. The only trouble is that a place this small is like a furnace in this heat. Even with all the windows open, it’s a killer. I don’t have AC, so I feel like I’m suffocating half the damn time. Thank God for ceiling fans, or I’d sweat to death. I take a shower to both cool down and wash away the hell of the day. Tomorrow, everything changes. The club is under a new rule: a new Prez and a new VP. The Snakes are strong, and nothing is ever gonna change that, but with change comes new rules. Each President is different. Each one likes to make his mark. Why the hell wouldn’t Shepard? However, we’re all lucky to have Shepard. He’s a good man. A f*****g strong, not-to-be-messed-with man like his father before him. But I hate change; it drives me crazy, and I have a feeling that many things are about to change. My life included.