THE WILD KINGS MC is my only family in this world. It’s been that way since I was eighteen years old. I’ll be thirty-five in less than a month. Yeah, I have a mother, grandfather, and used to have a baby brother. My brother, Dean, was my best friend in the entire world. Even after we were separated, he still was. It didn’t matter if we didn’t get to talk or see one another, he was always on my mind.
Our mother, Carrie, isn’t a bad person. She’s just so involved in herself to the point where no one else matters. Dean and I didn’t when we were growing up. All we saw was a revolving door of men. They would always leave for one reason or another: my brother and I were too loud, she wasn’t good enough, they were married—the list never ends. Things changed when she started leaving us alone. I was only seven while Dean was four.
One of our neighbors called Child Protection Services on her. My grandpa, Judson, wasn’t able to take us in because of his health issues. Our case worker wouldn’t let him have us. So, we were put in foster care. Dean and I ended up in separate foster homes because no one had room for both of us. I thought Dean’s placement was a blessing because they adopted him almost immediately. Yeah, our mom had to sign her rights away because she wasn’t willing to change for us. That’s the day our grandpa disowned his own daughter.
I was bounced from one foster home to another. Various reasons were given I was weird because I wanted to be alone, fighting in school, getting in trouble for hacking into the school’s system when I was in middle school. When I wasn’t in school, I was tearing their electronics apart. Again, the list was never-ending. It didn’t bother me as long as Dean was okay.
Everything changed for me the day I learned of his death. My baby brother was killed by his adoptive father because he flew off into a drunken rage about my brother not doing his chores good enough. Rage consumed me from that day forward. I was difficult to live with because I gave up caring. My sole reason for living was gone, so there was nothing left for me.
That’s until I found the Wild Kings MC. Pops met me while I was out boosting cars. There was no particular reason for me doing it other than I was bored. I wanted to make enough money to get a computer, so I could get back into hacking and pulling up dirt on the scumbags who don’t deserve to live.
One of the cars I attempted to steal was Pops old Dodge Charger. Instead of beating me or calling the cops, Pops took me out for dinner. We sat in an old diner. After scarfing down my food because it had been a while since my last meal, Pops got down to business. He asked me what I thought I was doing by stealing cars. I didn’t hide away from him or try to lie. The truth of the matter was, I wanted money for a little bit of food and a good computer system.
Pops listened to me without interrupting, judging me, or thinking I was bullshitting him. He didn’t berate me for wanting to get a little bit of money in my pockets or try to hurt me in any way. Instead, he asked how old I was. It was my eighteenth birthday the day I met him. Since I was officially of age, Pops took me with him.
That was the day I became a Prospect for the Wild Kings MC. When the club moved, I moved with them, since I didn’t have a reason to stay behind. Other than my grandfather, that is. He followed as soon as I had enough money to move him to a different place closer to me. My grandpa lived long enough for me to earn my patch in the Dander Falls chapter of the club. Knowing I had a new family, my grandpa passed away in his sleep with a smile on his face. It killed me to lose him, but at least I knew he was proud of me.
I became the IT guy for the club and was given the road name Tech because of my skills. It’s my job to do background checks, set up any security measures anyone in the club needs, and use my skills to help find answers we need regarding our enemies. Anything my club needs me to do, I’m there. The Wild Kings MC is my life and all I need.
After watching my mother go through men like I change my underwear (well, if I wore them), I don’t want anything to do with a relationship. I’ve seen couples make it work. There are plenty of ol’ ladies in the club who I love and adore. It’s just not something I’ve ever been interested in for myself. I get a piece of ass, when I need it, at the clubhouse from the sweet butts or I go out and find a piece of strange for a night.
My club is my life. I’ve never wanted or needed anything other than my brothers, the ol’ ladies of the club who take care of us, and the sweet butts when I need to take the edge off. Watching everyone else settle down and begin to have the second generation of our club didn’t make me want to run out and find what they have. I’m perfectly content in my life as it is now. No sense in making any changes.