Undercover at the MC Book 2: Navy & West

I hand the cab driver the fare displayed on the meter and take a moment to look around. It feels surreal to be back in Ranchdale, a city I can’t say I’ve missed. The only things I’ve truly longed for are my family and friends, but most of those friends are now married with kids, and we’ve lost touch.

For the past eight years, my life has revolved around Navy missions and aircraft repairs on base. Many of these missions are carried out on massive aircraft carriers in the middle of the ocean, where I, along with several other men, am responsible for everything that can fly.

Adjusting to life on a ship takes some time, and I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve thrown up. The sea can be brutal, and even though the ships are stabilized, they’re no match for a good storm.

I have a collection of videos featuring me and my brothers sliding around our cabin as the ship rocks, or me missing the toilet and hitting the wall instead during a bout of seasickness. These aren’t the kind of stories anyone wants on film, but they’re memories I’ll always cherish…even if they weren’t always “fun.”

My parents are currently out of the country, traveling, so I asked my brother if I could crash with him. He told me he has a room at the motorcycle club he’s a part of and that I am always welcome at his apartment where he occasionally stays.

I glance at my watch—it’s half past six. Jackson said he’d be here around this time since the motorcycle garage where he works closes at five. Soon enough, I hear the familiar rumble of an engine and know he’s arrived.

Jackson’s always had a thing for Harleys, so it wasn’t a surprise when he bought one after leaving the SEALS. My brother parks his bike and dismounts. He’s always been a big guy, even though I’m not exactly small at six foot two. But Jackson’s size has always been a bit intimidating, even though he’s really a big softie.

“Little brother!” he laughs, pulling me into a hug. Few people get to see this side of Jackson, and I consider myself lucky to be one of the few who does.

“Hey big guy! I missed you!” I mumble. We head into his house, chatting away.

“I haven’t ordered any food yet because I wanted to wait until I knew what you wanted, so…just tell me,” he says, picking up his phone to answer a message.

“Dude… I’ve been craving kebab and fries for ages,” I confess. He laughs at my dreamy expression.

“Weren’t they feeding you well over there?” he teases, grinning.

I roll my eyes. “I’ve been living on rice and pasta recipes for the past few months, you asshat. You, of all people, should understand my cravings,” I retort, playfully punching him in the ribs.

He doesn’t even flinch, just chuckles and places our order. I’ve missed our brotherly banter, and I’m looking forward to spending more time with him.

“I have a question, man…,” Jackson starts, sitting down at the kitchen island with a beer.

I nod and join him.

“I’ve been put in charge of the garage, but I’m still looking for a mechanic…and I thought of you,” he says. I can’t help but feel a surge of excitement.

“Dude… That sounds great! But last time we spoke, you said you had enough staff,” I remind him, and he nods.

“That’s true… At first it was just West and I, but it’s getting busier now, so I could really use an extra hand,” he admits, taking a swig of his beer. His hand almost makes the bottle disappear—it’s almost comical.

“West? That’s an odd name,” I mutter.

Jackson hums in agreement. “Yeah…there’s something else I need to tell you,” he chuckles.

I raise my eyebrows in curiosity. “What? Is West your boyfriend?” I joke.

He nearly pushes me off my chair with a growl. “No, I’m not into guys, you goof,” he grumbles.

I chuckle awkwardly. Even though his tone isn’t disgusted, it’s always a bit uncomfortable for me when someone declares they’re not into men.

I’ve been wrestling with my own sexuality for years, knowing for quite some time that I’m more attracted to men than women. It’s a tough subject to navigate in the workplace, which is why I’ve kept it to myself. I even go as far as pretending to have a girlfriend for a while, fooling even Jackson into thinking I am in a relationship.

“I’ve been hanging with a motorcycle club for a bit, the Red Devils… I’ve become tight with the president of the club, Reid, who goes by Hammer there. I, uh… My name isn’t Jackson there either. Only Reid knows that’s my real name. They call me Steel there…,” he mumbles. I stare at him, shocked.

The Red Devils are infamous around the city, and the rumors are far from flattering. There’s a lot of talk about illegal activities, mainly drug trafficking, and I can’t believe he’s part of that club.

“How many illegal things have you done, Jackson?” I ask, a hint of disappointment in my voice.

“No, man… They haven’t been involved in anything illegal for a long time! Reid and I have turned the whole club around, and everything is aboveboard now, don’t worry about that,” he says defensively.

I raise an eyebrow. “Really? So you’re not dealing drugs and stuff?” I ask, finishing my beer as he shakes his head.

“No, I wouldn’t have stuck around if we were. I’ve also recently become vice president, so I guess I’m kind of a big deal,” he says. I find myself secretly impressed by my big brother.

“We have West’s patch party tomorrow night. He’s becoming an official member and won’t be a prospect anymore. Come along. We’ll grab some food first, and then it’ll be mostly drinks and women.” He claps a hand on my shoulder as I nod, smiling.

The doorbell rings, and he heads off to probably collect the food.

The next day, Jackson has to head to the garage for about three hours, even though it’s Saturday. I decide to tag along to see where I might end up working. As we go, Jackson fills me in more about life as a Red Devil, and I find myself more and more intrigued.

There are four different Harleys in the garage being worked on. My heart races as I look at them, knowing I’ll be hunting for my own soon.

“Ash… Check out the one in the back, see if you can find where the leak is coming from at the rear. I haven’t had time to do that yet. If you want an overall, they’re in the staff room through that door.” I see his long arm pointing to the side from behind a motorcycle, and I spot a door marked Staff Only.

I grab an overall and decide to take off my hoodie to keep it clean. Just as I’m about to zip up my overalls, the door swings open and a guy my age with blond hair freezes, his blue eyes scanning my torso.

“Oh hey, dude! You must be Navy, I’m West! Steel said you might come and work here?” He’s enthusiastic, extending his hand.

I shake it but look at him in surprise.

“Navy?” is all I manage to get out. He shrugs, pointing behind him.

“That’s what Steel called you.” He walks farther into the room and grabs an overall from the closet. He takes off his shirt, and I feel a flush of heat as I take in his physique.

He has a softer stomach but a clearly muscular chest. He looks good. He looks so soft… But strong at the same time…

I shake my head and glance in Steel’s direction. Why did he call me Navy? That’s odd, isn’t it?

“I’m his brother, and I wanted to see if I liked it here,” I say, avoiding eye contact in hopes of not making him uncomfortable, and partly due to my own physical reaction to the man.

“Welcome, man!” he says, clapping me on the shoulder as he walks past. He doesn’t have a strong cologne scent, which I’m grateful for.

I need to stop drooling…

“Dude… Why does West call me Navy?” I whisper to him as I sit next to him by the motorcycle he’s working on.

“I had to come up with a street name for you on the fly, and this was the first thing that popped into my head… Given your line of work,” he mutters, keeping his focus on his work and not meeting my gaze.

“Hey, Steel! I don’t think I’ve ever heard you string together that many words at once!” West teases from his corner of the garage, earning a lethal look from Steel.

“Shut your trap, jerk,” Jackson retorts, and I can’t help but laugh at the playful wink and mischievous grin West shoots my way.

This might just be the turning point I need in my life.