Blade: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Devil's Fangs MC) (Bad Boy Bikers Club Book 5)

by Naomi West

  Blade stormed down to the common area of the clubhouse. Several of the lower members were lounging in the hallway, discussing their latest conquests or who had the sharpest knife, but they scattered like mice when they saw him coming. The dinner hour had passed, and most of the men were in the bar area. Blade headed in, but he sure didn’t feel like partying.

  That seemed to be apparent judging by the looks he was getting from the fellow Fangs. They glanced up at him with smiles on their faces and beers in hand, but their expressions fell as they turned away and pretended they hadn’t seen him at all. A few approached him, having seen him walk in, but they turned at the last minute and pretended they were heading toward the jukebox or the bathroom.

  “What is it?” Champ asked when Blade pulled up a stool next to him at the bar. “You look like you’re ready to kill someone.”

  “Maybe I am.” Blade had been ruling his club with a relatively gentle hand, and he hadn’t felt much need to do otherwise. Once he’d established himself and everyone knew he meant business, they’d fallen into line without more than a few scuffles. He was firm when he handled any disputes, but he was also fair, and even the members two or three decades his senior didn’t seem to mind. But now, he felt ready to pummel someone’s face into the dirt.

  “The Skulls?” Champ guessed. He was the only one who didn’t seem nonplussed at their president’s behavior. “I take it that means you’re ready to call for a war.”

  It was an idea that had been weighing heavily on his mind. It might even be the best thing for his men. Let them get it out of their system, and anyone who’d been upset over the Skulls’ activities or just feeling aggressive could go draw some blood. But Blade knew it would be a risk to their own lives, and that was the only reason he hesitated. “Not just yet. I have one more thing I’d like to try.”

  Champ shrugged. “You know Jet will never listen to you. In fact, I think he’s the kind of guy who’d try even harder to defy you if he knew just how upset you were. We should just off him and get it over with.” He said the entire thing without putting any emotion or anger into it, just stating the facts.

  “Don’t think I haven’t thought about it.” And he had. “In fact, this isn’t the first time. He gave us some trouble a couple years ago, and I seriously considered what we might be able to do to just eliminate him. I should’ve taken the chance then, when his force was a little smaller. It’s going to be one hell of an operation now.” Even as he said it, he mulled over the situation once again. Sherlock was still pulling in some information for him, but it would be a dangerous mission for sure.

  “Do you have any other ideas? I mean, I sure as hell don’t. It seems to me like it’s either an assassination or war. I’m good with either one, just so you know.” Champ wiped the foam from his upper lip and grinned.

  It was contagious, and Blade was surprised to find a smile on his own face. “Yeah, I know. And maybe everyone does need a little action. I’ve got one last thing I’m going to try, first. Tonight, in fact. I’ll let you know how it goes.” He polished off his beer and headed for the garage.

  The night was cool, and Blade needed to feel that breeze through his hair and tugging at his body. He needed the roar of the engine and the swift passage of the road underneath him. Even climbing up the ramp onto the highway, where numerous cars and trucks surrounded him, was therapeutic. He could ignore the smell of exhaust and the heat of the vehicles as long as he felt so free.

  In fact, it was the only time these days that Blade truly did feel free. When he was at the club, he was constantly burdened with the business of the Fangs. They needed him, and they relied on him to not only run things financially but politically as well. That was a much bigger responsibility than he’d ever really planned to have when he’d joined this motorcycle lifestyle over a decade ago. Back then, he’d thought it was nothing more than living wild and free as his own man, only barely kept in check by the leader of the MC. That had been true, for a while, but the higher he’d climbed in the ranks, the more he had to worry about.

  If he could just get this shit with the Skulls cleared up, then it would all be all right. That much he knew for sure. Now he just had to hope that his plan would work.

  Sherlock had given him good directions, providing not just an address but also the usual routine of the home and where the most vulnerable spots were. Blade found the place easily enough, and he was surprised to see that it was situated in one of the nicest neighborhoods in town. Jet’s home was barely short of being a mansion, with a gate across the driveway and an immaculate lawn. Security and landscape lighting meant the exterior was hardly in darkness at all despite the evening hours.

  Blade parked his bike about a block away, not wanting the noise of the engine to alert anyone who might be on guard. And he was sure there would be someone on guard. Sherlock’s detailed surveillance report had included their normal habits and routes. Blade needed only to watch the place for a few minutes to confirm where the guards were in their routines before he took action. He lingered near the low wall, letting his eyes adjust and waiting for movement.

  A tall man in black sauntered through the front yard, keeping toward the edge of the light. He looked bored, and Blade couldn’t be certain he was truly doing his job of guarding the place. If that had been his own man, he’d have been in some serious trouble. But considering that he was Jet’s man, it worked to Blade’s advantage. He smiled to himself, thinking maybe it wasn’t such a loss that he hadn’t killed Jet two years ago.

  Right on time, another man came out of the garage door. He glanced around with droopy eyes, looking as though he’d just been pulled out of bed to go on duty. Not seeing Blade just on the other side of the wall, and not likely to due to the bright lights that lay between them, he stomped off toward the other side of the house.

  This was Blade’s chance, and he was ready to take it. Adrenaline surged through his body as he hopped over the wall, landing easily just behind the bushes on the other side. The guards were gone, making their way through other parts of the grounds, but he kept behind the shrubbery as he moved closer to the house just to be safe. If anyone was watching on a closed-circuit camera system or happened to step outside, he didn’t want to give them cause to spot him right away.

  Following in the footsteps of the man who’d come out of the garage, Blade headed around the right side of the house. He moved quickly and quietly, remembering how exciting it was to be out on a mission. He’d been spending so much time caught up in paperwork and the business of keeping the club afloat that he’d hardly been out in the world at all lately. The rush was a heady one, and he’d missed it.

  And fortunately, because he’d had plenty of experience on those missions, he knew how to pick a lock. The sliding glass door around the side of the house near the kitchen had been on Sherlock’s list of those that might prove to be a good spot for a break in. He would have to be careful that nobody saw him through the long, clear panes of glass, but the latch would come undone faster than the front door or the main back door. Withdrawing his tools from his back pocket, he easily undid the lock with a satisfying click.

  Blade held his breath as he stepped inside, finding himself in a breakfast area. The table and chairs looked far more expensive than he ever would’ve imagined a simple breakfast nook to need, and the surface had been polished to perfection. A crystal vase with fresh flowers stood in the center, and it brought a smirk to Blade’s face. What was a street-hardened asshole like Jet doing with a decoration like that? And as he looked around the kitchen, dimly lit from a small fixture over the sink, he had to wonder why Jet would have any of this. He didn’t seem like the kind of man who would need anything fancy unless it served to show off the wealth he’d accumulated. This home wasn’t for his men. It was his private home, where he employed only those he needed to keep himself safe. Blade doubted Jet even knew what was behind those custom cabinet doors or how to use the smooth granite surface that composed the countertops.

 
But none of that really mattered. He wasn’t even here for Jet. His stomach surged with excitement as he crept quietly through the kitchen and toward the front of the house, watching for signs of life as he navigated the unfamiliar rooms. Blade saw that Jet’s taste for the finer things in life extended well beyond the kitchen. Everything in the living room was plush and expensive, from the deep carpet to the original paintings. The furniture was cold and modern, and Blade doubted Jet had picked it up at the discount store. A massive stone fireplace displayed an array of photographs on the mantel.

  Stepping closer, Blade sneered at the ones that showed Jet on his boat in the Bahamas or schmoozing with political figures in the city. If they had any idea what kind of a person they were dealing with, they wouldn’t think twice about having him thrown in jail. But it was doubtful that the mayor and the governor knew of the late-night drug deals, the murders, or the numerous cases of theft. Jet wouldn’t advertise that, peddling himself only as a prominent member of local society on the basis of his big house and the property taxes he paid. It made Blade want to snort with disgust if only that wouldn’t alert anyone who might be in the house.

  His eyes roved over to find a picture of Venus in an elegant dress. She beamed at the camera from where she stood on an elegant set of stairs, her dark hair curled around her face and a beautiful bouquet of flowers in her hands. She looked like a beauty queen. Blade felt the energy in his body shift slightly as he studied the portrait, studying the curves and her smile. She was fucking gorgeous, and yet Blade couldn’t help but wonder if she was just another part of Jet’s façade. He had a beautiful home and a beautiful daughter, but he clearly didn’t appreciate either one.

  He stepped away from the fireplace. He wasn’t here to mull over family photos or cast any more judgment than he already had. Blade had a message to deliver, and if he wasted too much time, he’d never get it done. Not seeing any signs of life on the first floor, he turned to the stairs.

  Just as he stepped onto the landing on the second floor, a door to his right swung open. Venus stepped out, wearing nothing more than a towel. Her damp hair hung down her back, swinging enticingly as she walked across the hall toward a different room. She’d just finished with a shower and was heading toward her bedroom, a pair of wireless earbuds pumping music into her ears. The best part was that she hadn’t even noticed him. Perfect.

  Blade shot forward just as she was about to shut the bedroom door behind her, easily stopping her by putting his foot in the way. She turned around with annoyance and then alarm as she realized what was happening. Venus put out her hand to push him away, clutching the other around her chest to ensure the tentative hold of her towel, but she was no match for him. She looked to be strong, based on the musculature of her arms and shoulders, but Blade was much bigger and much more determined. He easily forced her backward, closing the door behind him.

  “Calm down. I just came here to talk,” he growled. The words were true, but seeing her vulnerable like that had done some incredible things to his body. He couldn’t stop looking at the smooth lines of her thighs where the towel skimmed them or the curve of her breasts over the top of it. He longed to reach forward and whip it off her, pressing his hands to the warm, damp skin that was promised underneath. There was probably nobody here to stop him, after all. He could have his way with her, push her back onto that fluffy white bed behind her, show her that he meant business.

  But no. He couldn’t let himself get distracted by sex. He could have his pick of women when he went back to the clubhouse if he wanted to, and he had serious business to take care of. Besides, Venus didn’t seem to be thinking the same way he was.

  “I’d say you intended more than that if you’re coming in here catching me as I get out of the shower.” She kept hold of her towel as she pointed at the door he’d just come through. “Get the hell out of here.”

  “Not until you tell me what’s going on. I want to know what you’re doing to keep the Skulls off my territory. If you’ve done anything, it doesn’t seem to be working. I’m sure you got my message.”

  Her face paled slightly as she took a step back from him. “I’m doing the best I can.”

  “Doesn’t seem like much of an effort to me, considering your men are encroaching on my territory even more than usual.” Even her sexy body couldn’t completely distract him from the irritation he felt over that point. He was tired of this shit.

  “I … I …” Her face crumpled as tears gushed from her eyes. “I can’t do anything about it, okay? I don’t know what the hell makes you think I have any power here. I’m just floating along because I don’t have any choice but to be a part of it.”

  Blade straightened, thrown off. “But surely, as Jet’s daughter, you—”

  “As his daughter,” she interrupted, “I’m just another pawn in his grand scheme. He doesn’t care about me. I told him about how you found me at the hospital and that you threatened me. Any other father in the world would have run off to wring the neck of a man who spoke to his daughter that way. He just told me to stay out of it. I even offered to step up and kill you myself, but nothing is good enough for him!” Her face was red and streaked with tears now, her fists curled in the soft terrycloth of her towel.

  He bit his tongue against arguing with her, not even worried about her thoughts of killing him. That did seem like the kind of thing Jet would do, and she’d already told him her father had tried to sell her off as a sex object. Blade only had her word to go off, and there was always a chance she was lying to him. But either she was genuine, or she was a really good actress. There was no mistaking the pain in her eyes. “I’m sorry, but that’s not my problem.”

  “Of course it isn’t,” she said angrily. “And don’t think for one second that I expect it to be. I’ve known for a long time that I’m on my own. I’m just going to have to do the best I can not to get killed. It’s not like anybody gives a shit.” She turned and stormed away from him, into a walk-in closet.

  Blade stepped forward to stop her, not knowing what kind of weapons she might have stashed in there. But she returned a moment later, the towel replaced with a soft purple robe. It covered her more than the towel did, but the deep color of the fabric accentuated the depths of her eyes and the color of her hair. He still knew there was only one layer of material between him and that body, and it wouldn’t take much to whisk it away.

  “I’m sure you have more pull than you think, and I’ve got one hell of a problem on my hands right now.”

  “Right. Yes. Let’s talk about your problems some more. Please, tell me everything, and I’ll see what I can do.” A fresh set of tears spilled over her lashes.

  He sighed, feeling his heart wrench in sympathy. He wasn’t supposed to give two shits about what happened to his enemies, male or female. She was Jet’s daughter, and that was enough cause to kill her on the spot. But she’d tugged on old memories of his own, ones that he’d tried to bury for a very long time. “If it makes you feel any better, I know at least a little bit of what you’re going through.”

  “Ha!” She sat down at a vanity and began running a comb through her wet hair. “I highly doubt it.”

  Blade’s mind was clashing over the horrific memories and the way her fingers moved through those long dark locks. “My mother got remarried when I was eight. She thought this guy was the greatest thing since sliced bread, and she thought he’d make all the difference in our lives. He sure as hell did; enough of a difference that I had to kill him just to get away from him.”

  That was enough to make her stop for a moment, watching him in the mirror. He couldn’t tell if her expression was one of wonder or fear. “You did?” she asked quietly.

  “Yeah. I was fifteen, and he was cleaning the gutters. I took the opportunity, and soon enough I didn’t have to worry about how many times a day I was going to get beat for looking at him the wrong way.” Blade could still see his own hands pushing on the aluminum of the stepladder, the one he was supposed to hold in place to
keep his stepfather from falling. It hadn’t been something he’d really thought about, but as soon as he’d realized he held Larry’s life in his hands, he’d known what to do.

  Venus swallowed. “Fifteen?”

  He nodded, but he’d allowed her to get him distracted. Blade felt bad for her. She was caught under Jet’s thumb, and there was no easy way for her to get out. If there was, she probably would’ve done it a long time ago. But Blade knew what had happened to the men who’d tried to leave the Skulls without permission, or at least he’d heard about it. Jet’s home provided only a small sense of safety, and it was a false one.

  Blade let out a puff of breath, once again reminding himself that he wasn’t here to fix her problems. She was distracting him, perhaps intentionally, and he wasn’t here to be her knight in shining armor. Unfortunately, if what she said about her status within the Skulls was true, then going through her wasn’t going to do much. “You need to give Jet a message for me.”

  Venus turned sad eyes to him and waited but said nothing.

  “If the Skulls don’t back down, I’ll make them back down by force. The Fangs are more than ready to start a war if need be, and I’m not messing around any longer.”

  Her lips were a hard line as she gave him a firm nod and turned back to the mirror.

  Blade turned and slipped back out into the hallway, wondering just what the hell he’d even accomplished with this trip. If Jet or one of his men had found him in the house, he’d have been shot on sight. This hadn’t been a mission to undertake lightheartedly, and he’d thought it was his best next step. Now it might’ve been completely wasted.