Corrupted: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Blacktop Sinners MC)
Page 19
Tess glared down at the tray and shook her head. “What would I be strong for?”
“Things,” the other man said.
Before she could answer, Trent entered in, oozing even more menace than he had when abducting her from the highway earlier. God, was it still the same day? Was it a different day? How could she even tell?
“Now,” he purred, patting the other man on the shoulder. “Digger, don’t be so oblique. We don’t have plans that bad for you, Tess. You do better as bait, and that’s why I’m keeping you here under lock and key with just me and Digs here. Some of the boys, well, they can get a bit too enthusiastic, a bit too frisky if you know what I mean.”
She gulped but kept her chin held high and her posture rigid. She had no intention of giving Trent any extra satisfaction. She wasn’t giving anything extra to this man. Tess had been captured, yes, but she wasn’t going to be a victim. Derek would save her; she had no doubt of that fact. She just needed to be smart and stay alive and in one piece before he arrived. If she could sweet talk Digger---who didn’t seem bright at all---or find a way out herself first, then that was even better.
But she wasn’t going to get rattled.
Damn it. That was clearly exactly what Trent would want.
“I suppose once a group of Neanderthal thugs, always a group of Neanderthal thugs,” Tess bit back.
Trent laughed. It was a large belly laugh that left him doubled over and breathing hard. “You think that we’re any worse than The Black Top Sinners? Don’t kid yourself. They wiped out a whole other gang from this area.”
“Los Lobos?”
“Then you have done a bit of your homework there, Tess,” Trent replied. “They’ve shot up and killed a few of my men by now in turf wars. They run drugs and prostitutes all through Boone too and all the way to Asheville. You think Grinder’s any better than I am? He’s not. So don’t get some holier than thou attitude with me because it’s beyond ridiculous, you uptight bitch,” Trent finished, and he yanked a switch blade from his pocket.
Despite all her efforts to stay calm and normal, Tess flinched. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and she was desperate for Derek to storm in now with his crew. She didn’t know if she could make it, no matter how much resolve she cobbled together.
“What’s that for?”
He snapped his fingers, and then Digger was on her fast. She tried to kick out again, wanted to make that bastard hurt. He wasn’t that much taller than she, but he was built thick, and his grip was tight. Clearly Digger was one of the smarter members of the Crew, someone that Trent had handpicked to help him keep an eye on her, his prized bait. She screamed, and then Trent reached out and grabbed her hand.
She screamed and then grimaced with the pain of him cutting a gash across her left palm. It wasn’t deep enough to require stitches, thank God for small blessings, but it was enough to cause a line of red to well across the skin there. Out from his pocket, Trent pulled out a piece of paper and slammed the crinkled bit to her hand. Then he took it back and smirked back at her.
“It always makes people pay more attention to ransom letters if there’s incentive. They know now that we’re not playing around. If they don’t meet us here at midnight on Wednesday, we’ll kill you. It’s all Derek’s choice to make after he reads this letter.”
Tess felt her heart drop to her throat. “What?”
“If time comes on Wednesday and he’s not here with the board of the Sinners, then you’re dead.”
“If they do come, it’ll be a blood bath. You’ll have all the time you need to set a trap.”
“Well, then, all they have to decide is if you’re worth a slaughter. I’m banking that Grinder has enough pull to make the Sinners sitting ducks,” Trent said, laughing roughly. “Digger, you can let her go. Give her some time to eat in peace and think about how much danger her so-called hero is about to get into.”
With that, both turned and rushed out the door, locking it back in place behind them. Tess was so furious that she threw her food to the floor and, instead, chose to bang the metal tray against the door until the sound reverberated not just in the room but down the halls as well. She’d have to work on her plan B, figure out a way to escape.
Damn it; where was MacGyver when you needed him?
Chapter Thirty Three
The older man ran a hand through his long, greying beard. The guy who ran the junk yard in town, the place his bike had been towed to first after the crash, that guy reminded Derek a bit of someone from ZZ Top. He had that mix of Appalachian hick and who cares redneck attitude, but he was smart. This man knew who both Derek and Ron were with, had known enough to be as helpful as possible to enforcers from the Sinners and to keep his mouth shut otherwise.
Sometimes people in town weren’t smart enough for that side of things.
It was the reason that Derek had come to Jensen’s Garage. There were other places in town, including their own chop shop, but he figured the old guy would be able to help him find the right tail pipe replacements he still lacked.
“So, you still up for riding around on that thing, son? Looks like you’ve had everything wailing on you lately.”
“Sir---” he started, not even sure why he was polite for once.
It wasn’t his style, but he felt more like charming some deals out of people than just harassing them. It was usually a lot easier than people like Bones and Bullet realized. A little grease went a long damn way. Plus your knuckles tired out less that way.
“It’s C.J.,” he said.
“Fine, then C.J., I can’t rest yet, got a lot to do.”
“You look like someone used your face as a punching bag.”
“Kind of goes with the territory.”
He considered that. “Just saying that fixing up your bike should come a long and distant second to fixing up you, kid.”
“I guess that’s true, but I don’t have a choice in a lot of things. Besides,” he said, rubbing his chin. “These scratches ain’t nothing.”
“Yeah, but you’re wheezy every time you breathe. I bet your ribs aren’t doing stellar.”
“What do you care? It’s one less Sinner around if I bite it.”
C.J. shrugged as he gestured to him to follow through the stacks of spare parts gathered around. Steel and aluminum glittered under the sun throughout the yard. Derek had to close his eyes at the onslaught of glinting metal. “I don’t mind all gangs the same. The Death’s Head are worse. They steal from me constantly, have come and roughed my son up at the register. Your group ain’t like that. You keep to your territory and don’t rough up the locals for shits and giggles.”
“It’s not smart, and you can’t buy off every cop in town.”
“Or maybe you also don’t want hurt anyone you don’t have to.”
Derek laughed long and hard. “Old man, if you think I’m some kind of good guy because I’m smart and prefer the expedient over what makes a scene, then you are barking up the wrong damn tree.”
He considered that and stopped by a pile of tail pipes. “Pick three that you want and take the top contenders back to that chop shop of yours. You know there’s no charge. If you believe in greasing the wheels, then you know that I do too.”
Derek grinned at that and pulled out the metal he thought he’d need. “Still just a regular guy and, don’t kid yourself, in a fight I’d stab or shoot a guy just as soon as look at him, especially if my president’s life is on the line.”
“Then you should be worried. Even around town…Hell, even the damn college kids can tell that something is coming, and it ain’t good. I have a few friends around town too, a few people who talk a good game. You all have a leak or a mole or whatever else you want to call it.”
Derek balanced the tail pipes on his left hip and rubbed at his right rib with the other hand. “Oh, believe me, I know all of this, and I appreciate the concern, I do.”
“Good, because I want the Death’s Head out of this town, so I hope you win.”
&
nbsp; “I intend to.”
“But it’s been obvious about the Sinners’ cracks for a while. Your ship around here hasn’t been as tight as it used to be. I bet that the mole’s been there far longer than any of you ever thought.”
“I think you’re right.”
“And I think that old men tell tales,” Ron said, glaring at both of them. “Can we talk?”
Derek rolled his eyes. “I think we covered everything.”
C.J. shrugged and headed back to his main office. “I know when I’m not wanted. Go get them, Derek, and I hope to see you scrambling around my junk yard again soon.”
Derek offered the other man a tight smile and a nod before rounding on Ron. “So you’re back to tell me not to be obsessed with Tess?”
“I want to say I’m sorry. I just worry about everything. Maybe sometimes sacrifices can be made.”
Derek narrowed his eyes and walked toward his truck with his pipes. “Then she’s expendable?”
“She’s a nurse. You’ve known her less than a week, and sweet butt is sweet butt.”
“I love her, man, and she feels like home, like I have a place I belong since the first time in maybe ever.”
Ron frowned and shove his hands in his jeans’ pockets. “Well, I’m sorry that you’ve felt so alone all these years. I know there are certain things I won’t do for you man, but do you really think that everything we’ve been through for almost twenty years means nothing? Who taught you to make your first shiv in juvie? Who found the Sinners for us to join? Who’s had your back in every damn fight since forever? So I’m not a home too?”
Derek frowned and at least had the decency to drop his eyes to the dirt. “I didn’t mean it like I don’t care. You’re my brother, blood or not. We’ve been all we ever had, and I get that, but there’s something with Tess too, and I can’t let her be hurt. Hell, I wouldn’t leave a dog to Trent Lachlan, you think I’m going to leave the woman I love.”
“After a week.”
“Yeah, and when I save her, then a lot of things are going to change. I’ve definitely found my old lady, and I hoped that you’d understand that.”
Ron sighed. “I don’t think running in there like the damn cavalry is smart. But there’s a meeting. It’s why I came to get you. I…Spike got a letter.”
“What kind?”
“The kind Trent sends when he wants to make a statement.”
And Derek hoped it was his imagination that he was shivering.
***
The paper was crusted with blood now gone brown with the time it had taken to deliver it. He wanted to vomit. Her blood. Tess’s blood. The woman he loved had already been cut into by a psycho like Trent. There wasn’t much written on the paper before him. Just the demand for the full board to show up at their main meth warehouse toward the college side of town at midnight on Wednesday.
There was no “or else.”
The fact that the note was covered in her blood said everything for it.
Well, let it never be said that Trent lacked style.
Derek shoved the paper down on the table. “Then we go in. We already were planning on it.”
Ron was pacing behind him. “They already knew we’d come and now they know the time and place? Spike, with all due respect, man, that’s nuts!”
Smitty eyed both him and Ron. “We agreed to go in. This doesn’t change the idea, just that we need to think harder on how not to lose the advantage.”
The rest of the board grumbled. Bones shook his head and took off his sunglasses. “We already have a traitor we can’t find, and they know we’re coming. How exactly can we get the upper hand?”
Bullet nodded. “This is a suicide run. We have the blade. Problem’s over.”
“It ain’t over,” Spike replied, his tone icy. It was low and menacing, and even in this room of other tough men, the assorted muscle of the toughest gang in North Carolina, people grew quiet and respected their president. He stood then and ran a hand through his jet black hair. His blue eyes appraised them all with calm, and he looked at all the assembled officers before him. “They’ve fucked with us too many times. They’re still fucking with us. This ends and we go in like they want, but we’ll settle out the special exceptions on the how. They won’t know what hit it.”
“But the rat,” Bones objected, punching one fist against the flat of his other hand. “I want the rat now. We can’t afford to have him squealing to the DHC.”
“Oh, we’ll get him,” Spike promised, his voice a low growl of anger. “We will get that bastard and string him up for ourselves, but taking Trent down, taking all of them down for trying to get me killed to start and running us ragged since, is the priority. Now, meeting dismissed. Get your favorite weapons in order and your shit together. We go in in two days.”
Everyone cleared then but him, Ron, Smitty, and Spike. Ron was still shaking his head. “We’re going into a slaughter.”
“It’s only a slaughter if we’re dumb. Smitty, Grinder and I have a plan, and we know what it is.”
Derek blinked. That was certainly news to him. He would say they more had a pre-plan. As far as Derek was concerned, at least Smitty, Spike, and he were smart enough to do the main plotting without anyone else, to keep their secret plans and weapons close to the vest. The only problem was that he hadn’t figured out what their key advantage was going to be.
“Fine, but I just want my objections heard. I love this club, and I don’t want us killed.”
“Then have more confidence, Ron,” Smitty snapped, his black eyes narrowing back at him. “You’re dismissed.”
“I can stay and plan.”
Spike loomed over Derek’s friend and fellow enforcer. “The inner circle right now is more like an inner triangle, and you don’t have clearance.”
Ron shook his head and rushed out. “Fine, but I warned all of you.”
“Then don’t be such a chicken shit,” Derek groused, still not sure where they stood.
He understood that until they figured out the key to all of this, walking directly into a trap was suicide, and he knew that he hurt the hell out of his friend by talking about Tess as his home. It was no less true and was how he felt. Frankly, he wasn’t sure if his and Ron’s relationship would ever be the same again. Of course, if his so-called best friend was so willing to throw Tess to the wolves, then maybe he wasn’t truly his friend anymore.
What a damn depressing thought.
“We still need a plan, and thinking about one ain’t having it,” Smitty said as the door slammed shut.
Derek nodded and was about to express his own frustration when inspiration finally struck him, like lightning out of the blue. “Wait, I know exactly where to go. Give me twenty-four hours, and I’ll get us the element of surprise back.”
Spike shook his hand. “Part of this went to hell because I fell to the pressure to stop trusting you, despite all logic. Go and get them, Grinder.”
Chapter Thirty Four
“Mommy! I need the present now!”
Cindy’s hair looked cuter than usual in her soft curls. She had a bright pink party dress on, complete with the seemingly prerequisite ruffles and the pinafore. It was definitely and indulgence to buy it, but Tess couldn’t resist something that cute and retro. Her daughter wasn’t yet three. She would have plenty of time to protest clothes and pick her own tastes later. Right now for her cousin’s fifth birthday party, Cindy was going to go as girly as possible. Maybe, and this was a little petty, but just maybe she wanted to show up Sarah’s girl, Tina. Yes, Tina was the birthday girl and an adorable redhead, but there was only one girl out there that owned Grandma and Grandpa’s hearts quite so deeply, and it was Cindy Allanson.
Tess smiled and handed her the brightly wrapped board game. She wasn’t a huge fan of the My Little Pony craze sweeping back again, and that new show was so weird. Still, it was all that her niece, Tina, talked about, so the board game for the pony friends and matching paper was a no-brainer on the gift front.
“Who’s going where now?” Derek asked, coming down the stairs.
Tess had to smile at him. There weren’t many men who lived such dual lives but made it seem so seamless. He’d always be rough and tumble, with the barbed wire tattoos around his biceps as well as the beard and his cut from the club. But it was at night that he belonged to the motorcycle gang, the thing in the shadows he did before he came home to her and their daughter in the mornings.