by James, Marie
“Professor,” Dawson mimics as he raises his eyes to the towering man. “I’m more worried about the ink I put on her.”
He points his black-gloved finger at Zoe who only stares with wide eyes.
“Nark,” she hisses.
“Hold up,” Dawson says as he places a hand on my lower belly. “Let me put some ointment on it and get it covered. Be careful wearing panties for a couple of weeks with the placement of this piece.”
“Her brother would kill you for even mentioning her panties out loud,” Professor seethes.
After my new tattoo is greased and covered, I position my jeans over the area and zip them back up.
Dawson peels his gloves off, tossing them in the trash before standing to his full height. He’s an imposing figure, but the look in Professor’s eyes would hedge my bet in his direction.
“Lynch won’t lay a finger on me.”
Professor steps closer now that I’m out of the way. “That so?”
“We should get out of here,” Zoe whispers.
Kai’s hand is already back in the waistband of his jeans.
“Professor!” Jade squeals, running from the back room in his direction.
Confused looks mark all of our faces as she jumps into his arms and wraps her colorfully-tattooed limbs around his neck.
Dawson grins as Professor tries to free himself from the woman’s clutches.
“What the fuck?” Kai whispers more to himself than anyone else.
When Jade is back on her own two feet, she steps out of the way. What I thought was going to be a gun battle moments ago has somehow transformed into two big ass guys hugging each other. The back clapping echoes around us, and I don’t even know what to feel. My heart is still racing from the adrenaline that shot up when Professor walked up, ready to confront Dawson.
“Kai.” Professor waves in his direction. “This is Viking, the guy I told you about.”
“One of your friends from Cedar Junction?”
“That’s the one,” Professor answers, and then they all start talking.
Cedar Junction happens to be the prison Lynch spent five years in, and the place he also met Professor.
My night out having tattoo fun has suddenly turned into a fucking prison family reunion.
Chapter 22
Briar
“Well this place will never be featured on a ‘Visit Richmond’ advertisement,” Hornet mutters as we climb off of our bikes.
Lynch and Luis discussed our drop-off point, and the abandoned industrial site seems the perfect place. It’s a barren wasteland, forgotten by the blueblood aristocrats of Virginia. Hell, I imagine even the bums and vagrants don’t come down here. There’s a sinister cloak over the entire area as if the lost souls of murder victims are still floating around and unable to escape.
“It’s far from prying eyes.” Lynch points to the one way in and one way out design of the decrepit buildings situated in a massive rectangle of weathered concrete and broken glass. “We won’t be snuck up on.”
“Unless they got here before we did and are already training their fucking guns on us,” Ronan warns.
My eyes, already on the half-broken windows on the second and third floors, double their focus. Nothing seems amiss, other than the lurking unease and shiftiness of the air, but that doesn’t stop the thrum of caution pumping through my veins.
“Just be vigilant guys,” Lynch says. “Luis benefits from us more if we sell the drugs than if he does a one-off rip.”
I’m on pins and needles to the point my hands are shaking when the murdered-out Escalade pulls into the small opening the buildings create. It seems like the type of vehicle members of the cartel would drive, but we can’t ever be too sure.
Each of us is standing behind our bikes, even though they don’t offer much coverage if bullets start flying. We’re carrying an ungodly quantity of cash because Luis insisted on small bills as his form of payment. We had to split the money between all eight members’ saddlebags, much like we will have to do with the dope to get it where it needs to go.
The SUV rolls to a stop, too close to be anyone but the cartel, but we don’t calm even the slightest. Especially not when that big scarred faced motherfucker climbs out from the backseat. He glares at us from about twenty yards away, his face hard and menacing.
“And I thought I wore a lot of black.”
I sigh at TJ’s ability to spew bullshit even in a moment like this.
“That’s the fucker I was talking about the other day,” Ronan says on a hiss. “Gives me the chills just being this fucking close to him.”
“Chill out,” Lynch grits through his teeth.
“I kind of want to pick his brain,” TJ says.
“Sick fuck,” Chains replies, but there’s laughter in his voice.
The driver doesn’t exit the vehicle, but the front passenger side door opens, and a man I’ve never seen before steps out.
“El Presidente,” the passenger greets as he walks toward us. “I pray your ride here was safe and without adversity.”
“It was fine,” Lynch replies. None of us have taken our hands off of the butts of our weapons, but the Colombian in front of us doesn’t seem worried in the slightest.
The big guy goes to the back and lifts the hatch before angling his head around to stare in our direction.
“Your guys will need to get the merchandise out of the back. El Asesino doesn’t lift his hands for anyone but Sen͂or Jiménez,” the guy in front of us instructs.
Lynch nods, and Hornet, Ronan, and TJ make their way to the back of the vehicle.
“Is this for me?” Jiménez’s mouthpiece points to the bag at Lynch’s feet.
“It’s all there,” my president says as he slides the bag of cash toward the man with his foot. “Count it if you like.”
“We trust you,” he says as he leans down and grabs the handles. I would’ve believed him if it wasn’t for the twitch under his right eye.
Our guys make it back to our side, and without another word, the Colombians load back up into the Escalade and drive away.
“That was tense,” Ronan says with a humorless chuckle. “They’re way more intense than the Mexicans we bought off of last month.”
“Same coke,” Hornet mutters as he begins disbursing the kilos.
“All there?” Lynch asks as he takes four bundles.
“I mean, I didn’t weigh it or anything,” the road captain says.
“Smartass.” I take my packages from him and begin to load them in my saddlebags.
“What do you mean it’s the same coke?” Ronan asks as he grabs the four kilos he’s responsible for. “This is Colombian coke, not Mexican coke.”
“This guy,” Chains says hitching a thumb over his shoulder with his free hand after walking away with his packages.
“Mexicans get their coke from Colombia,” I explain. “In dealing with us, the Colombians are just cutting out the middlemen, and it’s cheaper to move dope over water than on land through Mexico.”
“We’re now the middlemen,” TJ grumbles.
“The cartel is scrambling right now. They’re doing everything to cut the Mexicans out of their business,” I continue. Ronan’s brow furrows. This motherfucker is helping run one of the biggest distribution organizations on the east coast, and he doesn’t even know a damn thing about the roots of the product? “Haven’t you ever heard of reverse criminal colonization?”
“No.” He shakes his head. “I don’t watch the news.”
“The Mexicans used to be the pack mules for Colombian coke,” Lynch continues, not agitated in the least by our little impromptu education class in the middle of an abandoned industrial park where at any moment we could be rode up on and slaughtered for the thirty-two kilos of coke we were practically forced into buying. “Now, the Mexican cartels are infiltrating South America and taking over the plantations. The Colombian Empire isn’t as stable as Jiménez wants everyone to believe.”
“Shit,” Ronan w
hispers. “So maybe we should’ve stuck with the Mexicans.”
“We’ll bide our time.” Lynch climbs on his bike. “See how things play out over the next couple of months.”
Months? I think to myself. He just signed a five year contract with the Colombian cartel. As I climb on my bike, I have a sinking feeling that he’s planning something, and for the first time since I joined this MC, I don’t know a damn thing going on in his head.
When everyone has their portion of the coke loaded up, we each follow Lynch’s lead and climb on our bikes.
“Stick to the speed limit,” Lynch reminds them. “Until you off-load this shipment, I expect you to drive like a bunch of blue-haired grannies. Don’t get pinched.”
The other six guys crank their bikes and drive off, leaving Lynch and me alone. I have no idea what’s going to go down, but he hasn’t bothered to crank his bike, so I don’t even lift my finger to my own ignition.
“I want to get as far as we can today.”
“Riding at night is always better,” I counter.
“I’m not sitting in some hotel room for the next ten hours until the sun goes down. You may not have anything to get back to in Sutton, but I want to get home as soon as possible.”
When did things get so volatile between us? I don’t speak for a long moment, spending the time staring at him. Something insidious climbs inside of me, forcing my hands to fist at my sides and anger to bubble to the surface.
“You seem agitated,” he taunts. “Something on your mind?”
“You’ve been distracted lately.”
“Are you saying I’m not handling the club?”
I chew on my lower lip before responding, doing my best to calm my annoyance. It only serves to irritate me more. “When you took over, you spoke about getting a larger crew. You swore the officers in the club wouldn’t have to put their necks on the line doing shit like this anymore. Yet, here we are, fixing to drive almost six hundred and fifty miles weighed down with eight kilos of fucking coke.”
“You sound like a brand-new member, not a seasoned rider. Five years ago you would’ve laughed in the face of the consequences of getting caught.”
“You’re an asshole,” I spit. Mature, right? Well, it’s the best thing I could come up with without vomiting what I really want to say. Walking away, or getting arrested and sent to prison for years after just coming to the realization that I may be able to have something real in my life, is the very last thing I want right now.
“You’ve known that for years. What else?”
“You’re not the only one—” I clench my jaw until the damn thing aches in my brain. Spewing all my shit at him right now would only end badly for me. I don’t imagine he’d think twice about leaving my body here. From the looks of things, I wouldn’t be found anytime soon. The starving neighborhood animals would pick my bones clean by the end of the week.
“I’m not the only one—what?” There’s a challenge in his voice, one he’s never directed at me before.
My nose twitches, lip almost pulling up into a snarl, but thoughts of Molly rush me. Hurting her brother would never be forgiven. Hurting the president would be a death sentence. Either way, I lose.
“Nothing,” I mutter before cranking my bike.
It seems no matter the outcome, all roads lead to my own damn death.
Isn’t life fucking grand?
Chapter 23
Molly
“You don’t have to follow us so closely,” Zoe sweetly reminds Professor and Virus, not for the first time today.
“Bet they won’t follow us into the bathroom,” I tell her.
“I can’t.” Zoe stops in her tracks. “I’m not going in there. The last time—”
“Kidding.” I rest my arm on her shoulders, directing her away from the corridor that leads to the ladies’ room. “This mall has really seen better days.”
“We can always go home if you gals aren’t enjoying yourselves,” Professor says as he steps even closer to us. “I know I’d feel better in a smaller crowd.”
The after-church Sunday crowd swirls all around, but never gets too close to our group.
“We’re having a great time,” Kai interrupts with a playful slap to his man’s chest. “Leave us be.”
“When we get home—” Professor warns with a growl.
“Can’t wait,” Kai teases salaciously. “Now girls, didn’t we say we needed some new bras and panties.”
I grit my teeth as we enter a lingerie store. When Virus and the Professor linger around the entryway, I drag Kai deeper inside. Two women drop what they were looking at and scuttle out of the store. It’s happened more than once today. People always give anyone in a leather cut a wide berth. Virus and Professor together are intimidating as hell. I just can’t believe how brazen in their escape everyone is. Do these people know anything about tact?
“You know, everything I say to you doesn’t have to be repeated out loud to everyone else. There are such things as secrets, you know?”
“I didn’t realize it was a secret.” Kai blanches, looking genuinely ashamed. “It’s not like I told them you’re planning to get all sexed up in an attempt to trick the VP into bed with you.”
Tugging harder on his arm, I drag him into one of the fitting rooms and pull the door closed.
“I most definitely didn’t say that,” I hiss.
“You’re as clear as glass, sweetheart.” Unaffected by my attitude, Kai reaches up and pushes a wayward strand of hair behind my ear. “Please tell me you plan to do more with your hair when you try to throw the sex at Briar.”
Reaching up, I pinch him on his side.
“You bitch,” he hisses trying to return the favor, but only managing to tickle my side. “That hurt.”
We’re laughing like two idiots when there’s a knock on the outside of the thin dressing room door.
“No sex in the stalls,” a woman’s voice says from the other side. “I’ll call the police.”
My eyes widen, mouth hanging open. Kai isn’t affected at all, and I already want to crawl in a hole when his eyes narrow and his lips twitch in a devious grin. Then, the sex noises begin. He grunts, moans, and says a slew of filthy things. We hear the woman on the other side gasp like someone dared to wear a white gown to a wedding.
“Fine. I’m calling the police.” I hear her heels clicking on the tile floor as she huffs away.
“Whew, baby.” Kai runs an arm over his forehead wiping away imaginary sweat. “It was good for me. Was it good for you?”
“Jackass.” I slap his chest, but he only grins down at me. “This is the closest mall to the clubhouse, and now I’ll never be able to show my face here again. Besides, do you even fuck women?”
Kai opens the dressing room door, stepping back to let me exit first. Professor is frowning across the store, and Virus has his nose directed down to his phone.
“I’ll fuck anything,” Kai whispers in my ear. The proclamation startles me so much, I trip over my own damn feet. Leave it to Kai to stop me from falling even while he cackles in my ear.
“Anything?”
“Anyone,” he corrects, but he looks at my face and continues to narrow his choices. “Or I should say anyone consenting, sober enough to make the choice, and of age. I draw the line at bestiality and children. I’m pansexual.”
“Yet, your brows are drawn in like you want to say more.” I look around us, wondering when the woman will show back up with mall security. “And, I’ll be honest, I’m afraid there actually is more.”
“Well,” he leans in closer like he’s about to shed some amazing light on my non-sex world. I mimic his movements until his lips are damn near brushing my ear.
“I fucked a grapefruit once.”
I jerk my head back as a ridiculous huff of laughter escapes my mouth. “You fucked a grapefruit?”
“In the dressing room?” the woman screeches as she walks back up.
“Oh shit,” Kai says, suddenly grabbing my arm and drag
ging me toward the front of the store. “We need to go.”
Zoe is standing at the counter with a stack of panties and a couple of bras, confusion marking her face as we hustle toward the front.
“Where are you guys going? They’re having a two for one sale.”
“What have you done now?” Professor steps in our way, blocking our exit from the store. “Kai, if you’re stealing shit again, you won’t sit down for a damn week.”
Kai raises his hands to his neck and gasps as if humorously appalled at the accusation. “I’m not stealing anything.”
“The store clerk thought we were having sex in the changing room.” Professor’s eyes dart from mine and back to Kai. His look is no longer playful, but murderous, so I continue in an attempt to keep Kai out of trouble. “We weren’t. We were just pretending to.”
“Not helping,” Kai mutters.
We must be entertaining because even Virus has tucked his phone into his jeans to watch things unfold.
“If you touch her, not even I can save you, Kai. We’ve talked about this more than once,” Professor huffs.
“I didn’t.”
“He didn’t,” we say at the same time. “He was telling me about the time he fucked a grapefruit.”
“And you have a problem when I repeat things you say?” Kai mumbles.
“Dude,” Virus cuts in. “The acidic burn is a motherfucker.”
“Right?” Kai beams, I guess not feeling so embarrassed. “I only did it once.”
“Why are you all standing up here?” Zoe has deserted her items on the counter to join us.
The sales clerk glares in our direction before heading back to the changing area with gloved hands, a can of cleaning spray, and a roll of paper towels.
“We were talking about Kai fucking a grapefruit,” Virus informs her with a wide smile.
“Grapefruit? I bet the acid would hurt.” Kai and Virus laugh. Professor doesn’t look at all amused. “But last week Lynch did this thing with frozen cubes of watermelon where he stuck them in my—”
“Nope,” I hiss, covering her filthy mouth with my hand. “Hard limit.”