Max: NIGHTMARE WARRIOR MC, #1

Prologue

Max

How long you going to keep starring at that damn picture Stone? I look up at Matthews’ ugly mug with a smirk on my face.

As long as it will take for me to memorize her face.

Ahhh, your making me want to puke. He smiles but I know for a fact he is still living on cloud nine. His daughter was born a few weeks ago and although born premature, yesterday he got a letter and a picture of her officially home.

In one week, our unit will be flying home and we are all eager. Even Jones’ cranky ass is happy to be going home. Shawna’s letters helped get me through these last six months and I couldn’t be happier. The picture she sent me yesterday however, is too naughty not to be looked at every few moments, although I don’t plan on letting these assholes see it, I’ll stab their eyes out with a dull knife before I let them have what’s mine.

When you going to put a ring on that finger by the way? Wells calls out from the back of the Humvee. His thick Missouri accent heaves as he speaks. Wells is one huge fucker, and although he can kick all of our ass in training, and spends most of his days pumping iron, he is as delicate as a flower. We all pick on him when he skypes his girlfriend Joanna back home because they make those baby noises at each other.

We have been driving for a little over an hour. Our job today is an easy one, look through the town to see if we can find anything out of place. Our unit has a certain technique for finding IED’s in the desert, and Jones is our leader. He drives, I’m look out, and Peterson, Wells, Matthews and Tolino are backup.

It’s strange being on a unit with Tolino. He’s the son of my dad’s enemy back home, but here, he is my brother. The man that would protect my life, as I would protect his.

Same day you do brother. I smile when I turn to him shaking his head. Wells and his girl have been together for over ten years and I honestly don’t know what the hell he is waiting on. As for me, I plan on asking Shawna as soon as I get back.

This is my last tour, I am finally done.

Up ahead. I look over to the building in front of us, as the Humvee slows down.

Got something? I ask, looking over to Jones.

Don’t know. Thought I saw some movement. I catch his eyes moving up and down and all around us, then turn and do the same.

Should we check it out? Tolino asks.

Let’s do it, don’t necessarily like being a sitting duck. Wells calls out.

We exit the Humvee and begin walking towards the building....

Chapter 1

Max

I wake in a cold sweat, clothes sticking to my body as I jump out of bed, and rush straight to the bathroom attached to my room. Lifting the toilet lid, I expose the dinner I had last night then lay back against the bathtub, taking deep breaths.

Three nights in a row that dream has haunted me.

Once my breathing is more calm and collected, I lift myself up and lean into the sink. Turning the cold water on, full blast, I rinse out my mouth and brush my teeth. When done, I splash some cold water on my face and look at my reflection in the mirror.

Pain.

I feel nothing but pain in my body as it begins to shake violently. I drank last night, something I know I shouldn’t do, but do anyways. Although I know it’s not the alcohol that does this to my body, it certainly doesn’t help the situation either.

The nightmares are getting worse, and as it gets closer and closer to the anniversary of the day I wish to never remember, my body is reacting violently. I grab a towel, wipe my face and head out of my bathroom and head straight for the kitchen.

My house isn’t much, but it’s home. It’s where I thought home would be for me and Shawna, but that ship sailed long ago when she lied to me.

A small two-bedroom, two bath bungalow. It was a rare house in the east coast but when I saw it, it reminded me of Shawna, so I bought it. It was where I saw coming home from work to her cooking dinner. It was where I saw us making love in our bedroom, on our anniversary. It was where I saw bringing her home and carrying her over the threshold with a small little bundle in her arms.

Now it’s just a lonely small house with too many big holes.

The one good thing about the house that I live in with ghosts, is that I am only fifteen minutes away from the clubhouse.

Being a part of the Nightmare Warriors MC has given me pride and confidence. It was the club my daddy and his friends started, and the club my brother and I now controlled. I never thought my life would revolve around a bunch of leather clad wearing men, but I have to say, I couldn’t be happier.

Well, maybe a little happier, if I had a certain feisty woman in my life that didn’t hate me.

Thirty minutes later after having a nice hot cup of coffee inside one of the most obnoxious looking mugs I have ever seen, I sit down and turn on the television to the world-wide news channel and chuckle when I glance back down at my mug.

Mom loves to come and do things around my brother Austin and I’s house. Having only boys made mom a little stir crazy, especially given the fact that neither of us couldn’t care less what the hell our houses looked like. My mug collection is one of the things she likes to add to and this one happens to say ‘Maximus’ in giant bold black font.

Mom named me after a Roman Cognomen from the Latin word meaning greatest. My father was happy enough with the name since it had much to do with power, unlike my brother Austin, who was named after where they conceived him. I would later hate the damn name because they would make a damn movie with the main character named Maximum. Since I was in sixth grade when the movie gladiator came out, I was mocked all day, every day. From then on, I only wanted to be called Max.

I stare at the screen in front of me as they go over why our troops are still in Afghanistan. My body cringes with the images that haunted me from my nightmares this morning. I turn the television off and rub my temples. Head pounding, I stand up to get some pain killers out of my bathroom but stop when I hear my phone chime beside me.

Austin: Church in 20. Get everyone here.

Shit.

I respond, telling my brother that I am on my way, and send out a group text to everyone. The boys know better than not to show up, but since a text doesn’t always work out, I call Shane and have him make sure they all got it. I know most of the assholes are at the clubhouse anyways.

He answers on the second ring.

Max.

Fuckin’ creepy when you answer like that. You know that right? I smirk when I know the bastards is rolling his eyes right now.

Got your text. I’m already here. I’ll make sure they all show up.

Appreciate that Shane. Although I figured your lonely ass would be at the clubhouse.

Fuck you. I laugh as he hangs up.

Shane has always been a moody bastard. Even when we were younger and watched our fathers dominate this town with the MC. Austin and I idolized what our father stood for, Shane just simply idolized his father. Shane lost his father, Gunner, when he was fifteen by the hands of the man we vowed never to get revenge on, Snake. Since then, he was always an asshole. We thought when he joined the MC and got married, that it would be better, but something happened with his ex-wife that caused his attitude to turn from brood to violent. Shane recently shacked up with Candice’s coworker Lyla, but even that seems like it is going down the toilet. Candice is the beautiful red head that my brother is officially gaga over.

I check the time on my phone and see I only have five minutes to get ready and head over. I jump in the shower, washup, get dressed and head out. My bike meets me in the driveway when I come out and the memory of my first time being on a beast comes roaring through my mind.

I was ten years old, dad had just gotten a new bike, and against mom’s wishes, took me and Austin out to ride it. Austin, being thirteen, was big for his age, so he was able to ride by himself. I was still on the small side so Dad simply hopped on and put me on the back of it. I will never forget the feeling of being on a bike, having the roar of the beast bellow my body. Since then, I have tried to find bikes that only remind me of my father. Even if I have to restore them myself.

I look up at the sky thinking dad would have liked my newest beauty.

I fell in love with repairing them when I was patched in. One of the original members Craze, taught me everything he knew and I loved every part of it. When dad got an idea to open up a mechanics shop, located not too far off the property of the club, I jumped at the idea. Although he passed before he could see any of my work, Austin has always filled the void of pride when he sees my newest creations.

Mr. Stone heads up. I look up just in time to catch the falling pig’s skin. My neighbor, Randall, comes jogging up my driveway with another football in his hand and sweat dripping down his face.

Hey man, you know, normally the game is just played with one, right? I laugh and toss the ball back over to him.

Yeah, yeah, I know. He says chuckling as well. Dad thought it would be a good idea to try my speed with two. If I can catch one, throw it, and catch another a second later, then my speed will increase.

Don’t know much about football but it’s nice to see Mr. Kellony and his son Randall, once again working on his game. After I moved in, I was angry with picking a place that I would now never start a family in. Losing Shawna was hard for me, but especially because I happen to move us somewhere where we would have neighbors, block parties, large birthday parties, even a Christmas lighting contest. I may not be happy being single, but it’s nice to still be around people that don’t see me as that MC biker guy.

That’s great man. I say then head to my bike, knowing if I’m late as VP of the club, Austin will have my ass. I may be a joker ninety-eight percent of the time, but I make sure the club always comes first.

Hey Max. Mr. Kellony calls out and I wave back to him.

They certainly beat most of the neighbors that usually stare at me when I drive in and out of here. Mr. Kellony let me know straight away after I moved in that he always watched out for this neighborhood. He was a former, now retired, fireman, and I respected him for that.

Driving on my bike on the way to the clubhouse is bringing too many memories roaring through my mind. Like the first time I had Shawna on the back of my bike. We met at a bar that I frequented and she started working at. When I saw her, I knew I had to have her. She was five foot two, with a tiny waist and nice curves. Her smooth brown skin, wavy long black hair, and dark blue eyes called to me. It could have also have something to do with the fact that she was going off on some shmuck double her size for attempting to grope her. She had her hand on his throat in some kind of hold and looked hot as fuck cursing at him.

That night sealed the deal. I spoke with her all night, even though she figured I was just trying to get into her pants. At first, I was, but when she let me take her home, and invited me in, all we did was talk. All night long. From then on she was on the back of my bike and in my bed. I’ll never forget her hands around my waist and the feel of her head laying on my back.

I press on the gas as I speed down to the clubhouse, intent on getting rid of the bad memories that accompany the good ones.

Chapter 2

Shawna

I move around as the sounds of X Ambassadors Unsteady booms around the room.

I place my hands in the air as I enter into my last step and freeze the pose. My body is sore, ankle especially, but I welcome the large smile that accompanies my face.

I did it. I finally finished my routine and I couldn’t be happier.

I blow out a few deep breaths and do a little shimmy of celebration. I walk over to my small metal chair and sit on top of it. Drinking my water, I begin rubbing my ankle a few times. It’s been a few days since I have been here in the studio to practice and my ankle is letting me know how unwelcome the feeling is.

I lean my neck back, to help get some blood rushing back to my head from the constant bowing I had just done. I jump out of the chair and place my hand on my heart when I hear someone clapping as they walk up the stairs and enter into the studio.

Well now, I thought I heard someone up here. Miss O’Neal says walking in the room, the echo of her cane bouncing off the walls as it hits the hardwood floor.

Sorry Miss O’Neal, I couldn’t sleep and thought I would come out here and get a little practice in. She nods her head as she moves closer and closer to me.

You know you won’t be able to do this when they tear down this building and make it a coffee shop or a parking lot? She tilts her head until her thick glasses stop just above her nose and opens her eyes wide. The pose would be hilarious if the dagger she threw into my heart didn’t sting quite as bad.

I’m not going to let that happen remember?

Honey please. It’s been almost two years and you still haven’t even paid off half the damages done have you?

No.

So, how in the world do you plan on buying this place by then? She throws her small arms up in the air and dramatically pulls them back down with a thump to her thighs.

Ever heard of positivity Miss O’Neal? I smile and place my hands on her shoulders. I know she is worried I won’t have the money by the time the owner is ready to sell to anyone that is willing to finally rid him of this dump, but I have a contingency for that. Well, sort of.

"Girl, when you get my age, and can only see out of one eye with your glasses on, you tend not to have too much positivity." I laugh at yet another of her cracks at getting older.

Pushing seventy-three, Margarette O’Neal was always more of a parent to me than my own foster family. My earliest memories are of growing up being shipped to foster family after foster family. I was never made aware of how I got there or who my parents are, but I know I experienced something traumatic because I had nightmares as a child for years. Sometimes I would get images pop in and out of people hurting my parents right in front of me and other times, I would see my father dropping me off at a foster home.

By age fourteen, I was barely in school, and hanging around the wrong crowds. One day, a friend of mine had an idea. She wanted to break into this old building that was rumored to have retail chains brand new merchandise inside. It was a stupid thought, but we were young, so we did it. Turns out, it was this building, and a woman was fixing it up to be a ballet class for children. I fell in love with it instantly. We obviously got caught and our punishment was to do community service. I opted to do it at the studio. I would come in after class every day and help with cleaning. I would scrub and mop the floors, clean the mirrors and help recruit little kids to join up. Everything about it called to me.

Miss O’Neal was the owner by then but knew she couldn’t afford to keep it afloat without making the rent much higher on the current teacher, Mrs. Knowles. She eventually had to let it go as a wash, but unfortunately no one wanted to buy. By then, a social worker had gotten a hold of me and told me I would receive my parents life insurance when I turned eighteen. Mrs. Knowles promised to let me rent it as soon as I turned twenty-one, as long as I graduated from high school. Until then, I would help her out as I had been doing, only she would hire me as her assistant. I made the deal and the week after I turned twenty-one, I ran over to Miss O’Neal with a check for the deposit. She would still own it, and I would make the payments. Win-win.

The studio was mine and I welcomed it with love and passion. I immediately had students to teach and couldn’t be happier. The night Max and I broke up after he returned back home from his last tour, was the worst night of my life and unfortunately was a domino effect to where we are now.

You know, you could solve this whole thing with one quick phone call. You know those club boys have the means. I am shaking my head at her before she can even finish her thoughts.

No, Miss O’Neal, we have talked about this already. I can’t do that to him. His mental state probably wouldn’t even let him cope with the guilt he would have. Besides, it’s not like he would listen to me anyways. Remember when I tried to find out about his club being involved in drugs again?

Last year the Nightmare Warriors went through some pretty horrendous shit. They were set up by a business mogul named Nicholas Cole and almost killed. I had called Max to make sure he was safe and he basically hung up on me.

That may have something to do with a certain lie you told the man.

It doesn’t matter anyways. What’s done is done and Max and I are done. I say, then grab my water, towel and change of clothes.

Plumbing is out.

Seriously? I say slumping down. Great, now I have to drive all the way home in this heat with no air conditioning while smelling like a sewer. Guess I’ll head home then, you need some help going down Miss O’Neal?

No girl, you get your butt home and don’t keep coming here. You know as well as I do, you are just setting yourself up for failure. Did I mention Miss O’Neal can be a bit of a downer?

Don’t you worry Miss O’Neal, when I own this baby again, I’m going to make sure you have your own office here. Your powerful words of wisdom should be heard from all corners of this place. I’m met with a finger in the air as I walk out laughing and head to my car.

My beat up old Toyota meets me outside in all it’s horrible glory. With the left-over money I had after my down payment, I got myself a car, although not a very good one. It may be legally ready to die at any moment, but it gets me from point A to point B and I couldn’t ask for more.

I don’t have to be at work until two today and it’s at May’s bar. I began working there, right after the night Max and I broke up. I knew I needed some cash and there weren’t many places wiling to hire someone with no college degree. I had worked at a bar before so they allowed me to work there with open hours, and decent pay and tips. Last night I had worked at the bar and came straight home after my shift around three o’clock. I couldn’t sleep much so after tossing and turning for hours, I finally gave up and headed to the studio to finish the routine that wouldn’t leave my mind. I never gave back the key I had and haven’t regretted that decision once. Fortunately I don’t work at the diner today, so when I get home I am able to just crash.

Once I found out about the cash flow being even more depleted to get back the studio from the bank whom now owns it, I knew I had to take in another job. As exhausted as I am, the pay helps. Miss O’Neal makes a good point when it comes to telling Max about my problems but I stand by what I said to her. I hate what Max has put me