Brick Solid (Voodoo Troops MC Book 1) Read online

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  Standing outside the clubhouse Brick and King observed preparations for the day.

  A band was setting up on a small stage behind the building across the grounds to the left. Beyond that, further to the left, trucks and motorcycles had already arrived. Men scattered around the clubhouse grounds talking, laughing, and drinking.

  Only a handful of women were there to spend the day. The club's regular girls were there tending an outdoor bar and working the crowd.

  The cool weather had disappeared. Trees thick with leaves provided shade for the spectators from the bright sun.

  “Looks like a good turnout today, and perfect weather. How many we expecting today?” asked Nova.

  “Ten,” was Brick’s only reply.

  The brothers were used to his short answers seeing that he rarely spoke at all. A man of few words but everyone listened with respect when he did speak. A trait that well served his position of Sargent at Arms. Both surveying the crowd as they spoke.

  “Beer?”

  “Plenty.”

  “Food?”

  “Ordered.”

  Brick nodded his approval.

  King was the president of the MC. He was a bit younger than Brick's forty years, but respected his wisdom and experience. They had been in the club longer than most of the members, joining when it was still young. The original president had retired from the club after an accident left him unable to continue riding or being involved in the running of things. Brick was next in line to take over, but preferred the hands-on type of work he was good at. He was also not the social type to hold meetings or run things. No. Brick wanted no part of that and had suggested King was better qualified. So they voted King in as president and since then the club’s businesses ran smoothly and prospered.

  “Question bringing this to our grounds. Best behind the scenes,” Brick commented still scanning the crowd.

  Shaking his head King faced Brick, “We have no one to protect from this. So why not?”

  “Getting in too deep. Need to keep the name clean of certain things.”

  “Going soft?”

  A glare was Brick’s only response as King chuckled.

  “Car’s coming in. Looks like high quality in this group.” This was Nova, the club’s Vice President.

  “Bikes are pulled out to spots for them to use. Everything’s ready.” He paused, “I see you moved yours close and outta sight, Brick. Afraid to let a woman touch it?” he teased.

  “Oh, he’s afraid a female will curse it. Then he’ll have to let one ride with him,” King grinned.

  “You saying he’s never had a woman on the back of that bike?” Nova asked astounded.

  “Never,” growled Brick.

  He turned and headed toward the clubhouse ignoring the laughter behind him. Rounding the corner, he looked over the cars parked beyond the drive. The van he knew was the photographer and ten others.

  One car stood out. His body went rigid. His hands curled into fists. She should not be here. Quickening his pace, he rounded the building scanning the crowd to find the face that would not leave his mind.

  Scantily clad women ranging from early twenties to maybe thirty were mingling and flirting with men across the yard. Two were next to a bike by the tree line topless already posing for the camera. One was next to the stage. A blonde and a short-haired brunette were next the building getting beer from an ice chest.

  Maybe he was wrong. Maybe his imagination was getting the better of him. He shook the thoughts from his head as he made his way back to the door. Brick pushed one of the large double doors open and instantly his eyes landed on kinky brown hair framing the unforgettable face.

  She sat slumped with elbows on tanned knees propping her head up.

  He didn’t slow until he sat face to face with her.

  “You with that scum?” he growled.

  Lifting her shoulders she began, “I came with Venus and Chelle, but I have a bad feeling about this.”

  “Leave.”

  “He took my keys. And look at me!” holding her arms out to emphasize her point. She leaned closer to Brick and whispered, “You know what I look like? I can’t look like this.”

  He studied her in silence for a moment, then he laughed. A deep laugh. His anger gone.

  Her eyes grew wide. She saw nothing funny in this situation.

  He shook his head still smiling. He stood and held his hand out to her.

  She looked to his hand then to him.

  Something dropped in her lap.

  “Wear that for the shoot,” The photographer’s aide told her.

  Holding up more strings than material, “I will not.”

  But the aide was nowhere to be seen.

  Brick took the bikini from her and tossed it onto the couch and took her hand. He picked up her bag and led her across the room to a door.

  The clubhouse was a large building. The common room was a massive open area with a bar lining half the back wall. To the left were leather couches and chairs. A huge flat screen on the wall and two pool tables near the back corner. Next to that was a staircase. To the right behind a couple of round tables were three doors: two on the wall opposite the tables and one to the right of the bar on the back wall.

  He led her to the middle door and pushed it open. It was a bedroom: small but functional with a bed, a chest of drawers and a nightstand. Another door led from it. A bathroom.

  He opened her bag and dumped it on the bed. He held up different pieces of clothing and chose a dress and handed to her.

  “Be you,” he nodded to the bathroom. “Wash your face. Take your time.”

  She attempted a smile then took the clothing and disappearing into the bathroom.

  Chapter Four

  Nealy emerged from the building. She paused and took a deep breath. Closing her eyes, she lifted her face toward the warmth of the sun and allowed the breeze to blow her insecurities away. Her hair and makeup reflected her personality now. She felt more like herself and at ease. The dress she wore was short and clung to her like a second skin emphasizing her larger than average curved hips, tiny waist, and ample top. A beautiful emerald green. Her shapely legs looked longer with the length. And four-inch heels didn’t hurt. Black pumps and bracelets topped off the look.

  Brick stood just outside the door scanning the grounds. He turned at the sound of the door. He stared. For the first time he could ever remember, he was stunned: at her beauty, at his reaction, at his thoughts, at his feelings.

  She went to him, held her arms out and spun. “Well?”

  He nodded only once. His hand found her back and gently guided her around the building to a Harley parked near the building where few gathered.

  A Fat Boy sat between a tree and the building. Metal motorcycle and oil advertisement signs covered the wall.

  Nealy looked it over and around the space where they stood. To her, this looked very photogenic. She liked his choice.

  “Anything I should know? Like what I can or cannot touch or do on the motorcycle?”

  “All yours. Can’t hurt it.”

  She nodded.

  He stood arms folded. His eyes focused on her.

  “Are you okay now? Last I saw you...” Her words trailed off as she looked to his side.

  “All good.”

  She smiled and opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted.

  “There you are.” Sly and his associate skirted the corner of the building.

  Brick backed away.

  “What do you want?” asked Nealy.

  “Just work your magic baby. Love the backdrop. And private,” he winked.

  She shuddered. Inhaling deeply, she turned to Brick and relaxed blowing out that breath.

  “Let's do this.”

  Her photo shoot began well. Nealy was comfortable and quickly fell into her groove. Brick stood back and watched. Soon a small crowd gathered. Cat calls could be heard occasionally from the spectators but she seemed to ignore them.

&n
bsp; So did Brick. As long as nothing insulted Nealy he was good. He was so focused on her he had not noticed his brothers next to him.

  “Beautiful. What have you got for me next, baby?” The photographer prompted as he lowered his camera.

  She moved to the tree, picked up denim shorts she had placed behind it, and pulled them on under her dress keeping modest.

  “Booooo!”

  “Show us what ya got!”

  “Take it all off.”

  Whistles and more calls sounded from around her.

  Removing the dress, then her shoes, she dropped them by the tree and stepped back to the bike. She glanced toward Brick when she heard whistles and approval from the crowd.

  He nodded.

  Nealy didn't understand the need for his approval. She only knew it calmed her the same time it excited her with a warmth that was unfamiliar. It also encouraged her to continue. With a snug fitting top that was hidden under her dress, short denim cut-offs, and bare feet, she impressed the camera again.

  “Know you’re cursed now. There’s a babe on your bike,” King slapped Brick's shoulder.

  “He may never ride it again.”

  “She’s already got you whipped.” Chuckles and nudges accompanied the ribbing. Brick shook it off thinking she would be worth it but he was only doing his job: protecting the merchandise. Even though she was not merchandise. No, she didn’t belong in this world. When she learned the truth, she would run just as she had done that first night he saw her. He focused on Nealy. He would always have this memory. This beautiful woman made him feel trusted. Something he had never experienced from any woman.

  “That’s all good baby but I need more.”

  “Like what?” she asked.

  He approached her and the assistant disappeared behind her. All in one swift move she felt her top being cut down the back as the photographer ripped it from her.

  Whistles and cheers erupted.

  Nealy squealed and quickly raised her arms crossing them over her bare breasts. She tried to get off the bike without her hands. This was difficult since she couldn’t touch the ground; being only five foot one she knew she was at a disadvantage.

  In only a few strides Brick had stripped off his vest, reached around her, and put it around her shoulders.

  “She said no nudity,” he barked.

  “Boooooo!”

  “Let's see it!”

  “Keep it off!”

  His brothers looked on in stunned silence. What was he doing?

  She pushed her arms through as he pulled the vest close in the front. They stood staring at each other. Nealy mouthed a thank you to Brick but couldn’t force out a sound. She was shaking.

  “Focus on me,” he told her.

  He walked to the photographer twisted his shirt in his fist lifting him to his toes. “You. Don't. Touch. Her.”

  Sly did not argue. No one argued when Brick spoke.

  “I can make this work, man. No problem.”

  Brick let go dropping him, then stepped back next to his club brothers.

  “What the fuck man, let her work it. She's good.”

  “I've seen her somewhere.” Mac thought. “The tire. She came in the shop a while back.” He turned to Brick. “You sent her.”

  “Something we should know?” King glared at Brick.

  “No.”

  The shoot continued and was impressive even without defying her comfort zone.

  When they finished, Brick gathered her dress and shoes and handed to her. He nodded toward the building, “Get dressed.”

  Nealy took them and ran into the building.

  “That's a wrap. We'll load up and talk before I leave.” The photographer yelled as he and his assistant turned toward their van.

  King nodded his agreement to the photographer.

  The small audience migrated around the building leaving the club brothers standing alone.

  “What gives?” demanded Ghost.

  “Let it go,” King said. “Get the stage ready for the girls. ALL the girls.”

  King, Ghost, and Rash turned to Brick.

  His eyes narrowed at King. Jaw clenched. He turned and stormed toward the clubhouse door.

  Minutes later Nealy exited the building dressed in her jeans and t-shirt; she had everything returned to her bag and slung over her shoulder. His cut hung over her arm.

  Brick stood outside the door again, feet apart, arms crossed over his chest. His face was hard. Eyes cold. His eyes softened when they met hers. He slipped the bag from her shoulder and dropped it by the door. Took his cut and put it back on.

  Brick's hand went to her back and guided her to the corner of the building and stopped. The same corner she first saw him. He had helped her that night and again today.

  Looking across the club grounds there were even more people scattered. Ice chests filled with beer littered the area. The band was clearing the stage and the girls she came here with were lining up across the front of the stage. The yard of men moved toward the stage without crowding it. Just close enough to see the girls lined up with very little on. They were smiling and blowing kisses and bouncing around the stage.

  Nealy looked down at herself. Why had they not dressed? With a deep sigh she dropped her shoulders, picked her head up, and stepped in their direction when a strong arm came around her.

  She turned and looked up to Brick.

  He shook his head.

  She relaxed against his hold.

  He let go and stood beside her.

  A man she has not seen until now jumped onto the platform took a microphone from the stand and faced the crowd. “Has everyone had a good time today?” He began, “Are you ready to get down to business? This is what we're all here for isn’t it?”

  The crowd cheered and whistled. “Where’s the short girl?” A voice sounded above the noise.

  “Yeah, where is she? That’s a sweet one.”

  “Well, fellas as you know the sponsor gets choice. And seeing as where we are, they have chosen. But anyone wanting to butt their head against that wall feel free to take it up with the Troops.”

  The announcer gestured to Brick and everyone turned to him. He stepped in front of Nealy and crossed his arms.

  “Well, hell!” King closed his eyes shaking his head. He stepped next to Brick and mimicked his stance.

  Another matching vest stepped to his other side.

  The crowd became silent. Only “Nope” or “Not me” was heard.

  She couldn't move. Staring at the back of three large bikers, listening to the crowd, she felt numb.

  “Let’s get started then. The highest bidder…,” he held up a bucket. Metal rattled and clinked as it shook. “Gets to reach in and choose a set of keys. The owner of those car keys is yours for twenty-four hours. Let’s start the bidding.”

  Nealy heard him but could not believe it. They were bidding on women. The auction was the models. She was supposed to be up there to be bought. Color drained from her face. She was not only dressed to look like a prostitute; they thought she was one. She lifted her head to see Brick step back to her side.

  He was studying her.

  Did he think she was? Surely not, but his expression revealed nothing.

  He reached into his pocket and pulled his hand out tilting it back far enough to for her to see what he held. Her car keys. He slid them back into his pocket.

  “You’re safe.”

  He had saved her again. She didn’t want to think what would have happened if he had not been there. What if he had not stepped up for her?

  What if he just bought her for himself? A thrill ran through her. He was the most intriguing man she had ever encountered. Dangerous and exciting.

  He had told her not to be so trusting and he was right. Look what she had gotten herself into. Her mother had seen the invitation the day they went shopping. Her bag had fell and it slid out. Her mother read it and was elated at the thought of her daughter taking part in a talent search for modeling. She had als
o let her talk her into this, thinking it would please her. She was twenty-eight years old. It was time to stop trying to be what her mother wanted her to be. It was time to live her life for herself.

  Most of all, Brick was right; don’t trust everyone you meet.

  They stood side by side watching the auction. Men bid large amounts of money. Some individuals. Some as groups. Each girl stepped up when her keys were drawn and made a show of herself happily going with the winner.

  Thousands of dollars had been spent in a matter of minutes. Auction winners left with their prizes. Vehicles to sit until the next day.

  The photographer and his assistant stood at the back of his van. All the equipment packed and ready to travel.

  King approached Brick, “I set the conditions.” He nodded to the van as the photographers shut the back doors heading to the front. “Reinforce it.”

  Brick gave a nod. Walked to the driver's side of the van. He spoke. Sly nodded. Brick spoke again. Sly paled, nodded and climbed in the driver's seat.

  Brick stormed straight back to Nealy after his intense chat at the van. He guided her to the door where he grabbed her bag and escorted her to her car. He dropped the keys in her hand. “Let's go.”

  She opened her mouth to speak only to sigh and nod. Eyes dim and shoulders slumped, she got in and buckled. When she was ready to back out, she noticed Brick beside her on his bike.

  A million thoughts and scenarios played through her head as she drove home. Not knowing what would happen next, she parked next to her little trailer and slowly stepped out of her car.

  Brick parked next to her. He cut the engine but did not dismount. He read the uncertainty in her.

  “Get in. Lock up.”

  She bobbed her head and went inside where she swiftly locked the door, leaned against it and slid to the floor. Seconds later the roar of his motorcycle faded in the distance. She couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down her face then.

  Chapter Five

  The rest of the weekend Nealy reflected on her experience. It was definitely one she would not soon forget. And, she would never forget the fascinating biker who saved her. She didn’t know if she would ever see him again, but hoped so. If she was brave enough, she would go right back there and throw herself at him, but that was not her. She probably wasn’t good enough for him although he made her feel good, calm, and safe.