Princess - Sapphire Knight
FREQUENTLY USED TERMS
MC member with no permanent home/wanderer
MC sit down to discuss business
MC clubhouse/living area/office
Significant other to MC member
Becoming responsible for another in the eyes of the club/
Announcing your property/taking your woman
Savage. That’s what my mother called me growing up—a no good, filthy savage. I didn’t know it at the time, but she was right.
If finding an ounce of pleasure by causing others pain makes me one, then so be it. I’ll own that title because it’s true. I fucking love pulling the skin away from others’ flesh as they scream in agony.
I wish I could say that I haven’t always been this way, but that would be a lie. Not that I’m above lying; if anything, I’ll use it freely whenever it benefits me. For example, when I found this MC, I didn’t come by it with any good intentions.
Arriving tired and irritated, I was sent by an MC called The Widow Makers. They wanted me to take out some rival Oath Keeper member whose road name was Exterminator. I was told that he had murdered some important members from another club—The Southern Outlaws.
The few SO Members that were left alive warned me multiple times during our meeting about how Exterminator’s a ruthless killer, and I should watch him before making my move. Of course, I was planning on some recon; anyone who’s been paid to kill before knows that shit. If anything, I was overconfident. Had it been me sent on the run to eliminate the Southern Outlaws, none of them would have been left alive.
After scouting Exterminator for a few days, I showed up at the bar he’d visited every night. I figured if I got there early, I’d have the one up on him.
My plan started to go to shit when I got into it with another club. The members had gotten me down on the ground, and I was struggling. I can handle three okay, but more than three I have to work at it.
Three of them had been taking turns at kicking out my right knee and then, in the end, striking me in the back with a metal stool to get me to fall. Once I hit the floor, five guys were on me like fucking leeches. They were determined to teach me a lesson but too big of pussies to do it one-on-one.
Exterminator and his boys stumbled into the middle of it all and bailed my ass out. Why? I’ll most likely never know. They aren’t the friendly type to most, but for some reason chose to have my back.
He saved my life that night. I didn’t even know it was him until after it was too fucking late. Once a man saves your life, you don’t take his cash—no matter what amount is offered.
The brothers helped me out, putting me up for as long as I needed. They were clueless, not knowing that I had my own means to make it. In time, they opened up some and showed me a brotherhood that I didn’t know existed.
They aren’t like the other clubs I’d been around. The Nomads from the Oath Keepers MC were all about themselves, but also each other. They never acted individually, but whole like a team.
With time, I was offered a spot to ride with them. It was hands down the best decision I’ve ever made.
I’ve never admitted my true reasons for going to the bar that night and my brothers have never pried. Eventually, though, I know my dirty deeds will catch up to me; they’re always in the wind, riding my tail, waiting for me to fuck up and come barreling out.
The Nomads run differently than the rest of the clubs; we’re freer. We don’t belong to one Charter but float around to wherever we’re needed or feel like going. The regular clubs’ rules don’t necessarily apply to our group. We have a structure amongst us, but not as strict as the Charters. A few of the brothers like Texas a lot, so we end up spending most of our time here when we stop for a bit. Otherwise, we keep on the move, rarely staying at one place for too long.
Scot and Exterminator pretty much call the shots when it comes down to things; otherwise, we work more as a unit. Ironic since we don’t play well with others often. None of us own much; it makes it easier to travel.
We aren’t tied down by any women either. Scot had an Ol’ Lady at