Avery laughed. “Good! You always had it easy here.”
I agreed but wasn’t about to admit it. “Anyway, I loved it. I had to work for every dance and every spot in the line. It’s hard, demanding, rewarding, and perfect for me.” I threw my head back and laughed, remembering all the fun I had there. “But it’s lonely, and the other dancers aren’t that friendly, not like real friends.” I remembered how Celeste had sold me out and wanted to punch her. Not that I’d punched anyone since I’d been little, but she deserved it.
“So I dated a lot of different guys, but none were great or even good. They were like the dancers—shallow and disposable.”
“Ouch! Did you tell them that?” Avery reached out to clasp my hand.
“No, but I never dated anyone more than a couple months, then would try and go it alone and then back to the same cycle, again.” Saying it aloud made me realize how true it’d been. “I never even felt close to love.” Except with the one guy I couldn’t love.
Oh no, I wasn’t going there, so I thought instead of Frankie. “Then I met the main douchebag and he and I dated—maybe he had some help from my so-called ‘friends.’” I did air quotes. “Long story to the point, I ended up here with too many bruises and a broken cheek.” I sighed. “Now Delta is doing god knows what to make it better for me.” I squeezed her hand. “You have to tell him to stop—I can dance other places.” I couldn’t let him risk death or kill for me. I wasn’t worth that. “The guys wouldn’t let me call him.”
“It’s not about you—”
“I’m the one he made the promise to, so how can it not be about me!”
Avery held up her hands. “It’s club stuff now, but go ahead and call him, if that’s what you need to do.”
Chapter 19: Glory
I snatched Avery’s phone and scrolled through it, noting all the biker names in there. When I spotted Delta, I hit the phone icon and it rang once.
“Pixie, is she okay?” He was breathless on the other end of the phone.
“Who is she?” I had a feeling he’d been checking up on me.
“Hey, Queenie, you doing okay?” He transitioned without a stutter.
“Better than you. What are you doing?”
“Just ran up 15 flights of stairs and beat Eagle.” I could hear the satisfaction in his voice.
“Is it part of what you are...um...doing in Vegas?” I couldn’t just blurt out killing the mob, besides I wasn’t sure that was what he planned to do.
“Nah, just a thousand dollar bet—we have about a week to kill without much to do.”
“So you race up flights of steps?” I didn’t understand him. “Look, I called because you need to stop all this. Come home, call it quits.”
A very sexy laugh met my words, and I wanted to reach through the line and choke Delta.
“Stop laughing at me.”
“You aren’t actually my queen—you can’t give me orders.” Humor still tinged his voice.
“Then I’ll talk to Jericho! He’ll call you off!” I was so angry. “This is because of me. I don’t want you hurt or to hurt others.”
“Going soft on me, Queen?” The low rumble of his voice made my stomach do butterfly somersaults.
“No!” Why did it matter to me that he didn’t think I was soft? I was fine with every mobster dropping dead, but I just didn’t want Delta or the club hurt because of it. “Look, I haven’t ever hurt someone, but you have to a pay a price when you do violence. I don’t want you paying that price for me! I can dance in LA or New York or somewhere else. I wouldn’t ever forgive myself if you got hurt doing this!” I sucked in a deep breath. “Please, come home to me.”
Silence met my plea. My heart thundered so loud I wasn’t sure if I could have even heard Delta, but he didn’t speak. And didn’t speak.
I looked at the phone screen and seconds still ticked by. “Delta?” I didn’t know what else to say.
“Be safe until I see you again.”
“When...when will that be?”
“Ten days. I will see you in ten, yeah?”
“Yeah,” I repeated. I looked back at the screen, but I already knew he’d hung up. His words had held a finality to them. Ten days. If he wasn’t here in ten days, I’d be going to rescue him.
“I need to see Jericho!” I threw Avery her phone. “Will you take me?”
Avery frowned. “He’s not exactly the friendliest guy...”
“And?”
“Fine, let’s go.”
I grabbed my purse and followed Avery outside to a bike—a motorcycle.
“You’re riding pregnant?” I sounded like someone’s mother.
“Now you sound like Rock! I am able to ride and be pregnant at the same time.” She frowned at me. “You can ride bitch.”
I stopped. “No, I can’t.”
She turned and stamped her foot. “I’m riding either way.”
I swallowed the emotion blocking my throat. “I can’t ride, now.” I glanced away from her feisty expression, somehow ashamed by my injury. “They kicked me or something, here.” I pointed to the V in my legs. “It’s not close to being healed.” I blinked away the tears threatening. No way in hell were they getting more of my tears.
“Goddammit!” Avery kicked the ground. “Let’s take Mark’s truck, but I’m driving.”
I threw her the keys I’d pulled out of my purse and we climbed inside. But she turned toward the center of town instead of toward the clubhouse. “Where we going?”
“I can’t just show up at Jericho’s. Rock will kill me. First we tell Rock, then he freaks out, then we go.”
“I don’t understand this biker crap.” And I didn’t get it at all. “Lots of rules that you mostly break when you want to.”
“Not so much—not many rules at all—and we never break them. But there are lots of expectations of respect. You can dis them if you want, but I don’t want to.”
“That’s confusing!”
But Avery had parked so she didn’t respond, just hopped out and hurried into Marked Man, the tattoo shop Rock operated for the Brotherhood. I loved that Avery’s kickass boutique had been rebuilt next to it. They looked perfect among the line of businesses on Main Street.
I followed her inside, not wanting to miss anything, and ran straight into Mark. I tried to move around him but he blocked me. “They need a private minute or two.”
I heard the shouting from here. Spanish cursing, then motorcycle. Hell, they weren’t even fighting about what I wanted. “Can you come with me?”
Mark tilted his head to the side.
“Follow or not.”
Before he could decide what to do, I darted out the door. I needed to stop this manhunt in Vegas, and Rock needed to talk sense into my girl. Motorcycles and pregnancy didn’t go together.
Thankfully, Avery had left the keys in the ignition, so I started the truck and had it in reverse when Mark opened the passenger door and slid into his seat. “Where we going?”
“I want to talk to Jericho. About the Vegas thing.”
“Good.” Mark nodded. “Avery told you he wanted the story from you.”
I glanced at Mark, then back to the road. “No, I want to stop whatever they’re doing in Vegas.”
Mark’s clear laugh rang out in the truck. It didn’t give me any butterflies.
“Damn, girl, you haven’t mellowed.”
“Sure I have.” Or maybe I hadn’t. There hadn’t been a lot in Vegas to rile me up, but Avery was usually around when I got riled. Maybe we fed each other. I was riled today, and that had nothing to do with Avery. Delta didn’t need to do battle, or whatever, because of me.
Following Mark’s directions, I drove past the clubhouse to a large ranch-style house back where MJ and the Old Man used to live. “This is fancy!”
“Jericho lives right.”
Mark sounded proud. “Um, you’ve met his old lady, right?”
“No, why?”
“She’s intense—be nice or she’ll hand you your ass without a second thought.”
I nodded, although I doubted Mark’s threat. I hurried out of the car and up the sidewalk to the front door.
“She’s the one who trained Avery,” Mark called from behind me.
Shit! She was a serious woman, or Domme. Without pausing to reconsider, I knocked on the door. Mark jogged up beside me as it opened.
Jericho stared down at me with his mismatched eyes and long curling hair—he was just the way I remembered—scary and intense.
“Thanks for bringing her, Sharpie.” He stepped aside and we walked into one of the most comfortable homes I’d ever been in. It was a mix of leather, wood and deep, rich colors. Warm and lived in, it made me feel at home immediately.
“This is a wonderful home.” I especially loved the huge stone fireplace.
“Thanks. Have a seat. Can I bring you a drink?”
“Water.”
“A beer or whiskey.” Mark sounded stressed.
“Like that, is it?” His old lady stood in the doorway. “Sit down, love, I’ll bring in the refreshments.” She was tall, black-haired and imposing. And sexy as hell, especially with her Irish accent. I wasn’t into women, but I wanted to be into her.
Jericho sat in the huge leather chair that reminded me of a throne a bit. “So, cousin, it’s not my request that brings you here?”
That deep voice and penetrating stare almost made me stop before I ever began, but I remembered Delta. This wasn’t about me, it was for him. “Not exactly, and Mark didn’t know why I wanted to come until it was too late to jump out.”
Jericho lifted a brow but didn’t say anything.
“This confrontation with the mob—please don’t do it. Stop. I’m not worth revenge, or whatever.”
Jericho stroked his goatee. “You don’t want the bastards who hurt you dead? That seems too bloodthirsty for you?”
His woman walked in then with four tumblers stacked atop each other in one hand and a bottle of Jameson in the other. “You the soft kind?”
“No, and no. I’d be happy with all of them dead.” Anger seethed inside me. “They deserve it for what they’ve done to me and other women, no doubt!” I sucked in a breath to continue.
“Then let’s drink to bloody deaths. I’m Marr and you must be Glory.” Marr handed me the whiskey.
With a nod, I took the glass offered. “But it’s not worth it to Delta or Thorn or Eagle or whoever else is doing the killing.”
Marr started to speak again.
“Wait.” I cut off the Domme who might do serious damage if I pissed her off. “I haven’t ever hurt someone or killed someone.” I glanced to each of them. “But it has to hurt the person who kills—take something from them.”
Marr threw back her drink and poured another.
“I’m saying it’s not worth that price. They don’t need to add any more burdens to their souls—their peace of mind, whatever—because of me. That’s why I want you to stop this!”
“But then you can’t return to Vegas,” Jericho said.
“True, but I can dance a lot of places—”
“Ah, Pixie didn’t convince you to stay, then,” Marr interrupted again.
“No, we were on our way here, but she and Rock got into a fight about her riding her motorcycle.”
Marr laughed and Jericho cursed.
“Tell me what happened,” Jericho commanded.
“She showed up at my place on—”
“In Vegas,” he said, cutting me off.
Oh, that. “I don’t want to.” I sighed. “But I owe it to you.” I had asked them for help. “I was stupid and switched to the Remington from the Starlord. It’s a long story as to why but let’s just say Frankie, my ex, had someone I thought a friend help convince me.” I couldn’t believe I’d been so stupid. “Anyway, I ended up at the casino run by his uncle and the one he was next in line to run—and out of options.” I sipped my whiskey. “I’m sure now that Frankie had picked that weekend to bring our standoff to a close. Delta stopped him for the night, but he kept after me. And he got my manager in on it, and I ended up in their porn studio with a needle coming my way. They weren’t going to take no for an answer.” My breathing was ragged and shallow thinking about it. I closed my eyes and breathed deep. I was in control. I repeated the statement until my breathing slowed.
I opened my eyes and continued. “I fought, kicking Frankie in the balls, he punched me in the cheek. I woke up in the hospital.”
“You really kicked the guy coming for you in the balls? You went down fighting?” Marr sat on the arm of Jericho’s chair. He grabbed her waist and tugged her down to his lap.
“Yeah, I figured it was better to go out fighting.”
Marr gave a nod of approval, and that warmed me. Why did I care what this woman thought? I didn’t know how she’d done it, but already her approval mattered to me.
“I won’t call it off.” Jericho said the words with a casualness that made me do a double take. He really said that.
“Why not?”
Mark squeezed my arm. “That’s not—”
“She’s my responsibility,” Jericho said smoothly, and Mark let go of my arm like he’d been burned.
I had no idea what had just happened here, but I hated it. “I’m my own woman. Thanks.”
Marr lifted her drink in salute to me.
“In our club, you don’t have that choice. And since you’re my family, you become my responsibility.”
“I never saw you at the family Christmas.” My tone was sharp.
Marr laughed again.
“All the same, we’re blood, so I will say this much to you.” He steepled his fingers together and stared at me. But somehow in the past few minutes, he’d lost his scare factor. “Dammit,” he mumbled under his breath.
“You’re losing your edge.” Marr bit his neck.
They must have noticed the change in me.
“Anyway, this isn’t about you. It hasn’t been since Delta and Thorn paid a visit to Frankie. This is about our club. So the price you talk about—it isn’t because of you—it’s because of this patch.” He thumped the Brotherhood reaper on his cut that was over his heart.
More stupid club stuff I didn’t understand.
“So Delta isn’t about to kill people because of me, but because you ordered it?”
“Yes.” Then he cursed again.
I smiled a cold smile. “He shouldn’t kill for you either.”
“He isn’t. It’s for the club, and every one of us would do it.”
I saw the crazy in his eyes—the same I saw in Mark’s eyes when he talked about the Brotherhood. I thought of it as cult mentality, but maybe it was more, or different. Because right then in Jericho’s eyes, it looked a lot like love.
Chapter 20: Delta
Tonight we would finally execute the mission. Three weeks of planning had me itching for action. Straightforward and simple had always been my motto, but that wasn’t how this mission needed to go down. Thorn had considered a lot of plans, including one using the Raven Renegades, but he’d abandoned it because they weren’t family.
We’d gathered in a run-down section of town on the edge of Vegas. In an equally run-down motel room, the eight of us listened to Thorn detail the objective and mission.
Zero and I walked the two doors down to our own room. Thorn had said to get sleep, since the plan would have us up for a solid twenty-four hours, but I couldn’t sleep right now.
“So what do we do?” Zero sat on the bed with his knee bouncing. “No way I can sleep.”
Good question. “How was she?”
“Better when I left. She and Pixie had made up, and she was starting to
find her way.” Zero grinned. “And did you hear about how she faced down Jericho?”
I hadn’t, even though I’d talked to several guys in Barden. “Tell me.” If Jericho made her cry, I’d have words, make that fists, with him.
“She went to see Jericho, dragging poor Sharpie along! Man, he almost pissed his pants when she went all alpha on Jericho.” He glanced at me. “Marr was there too.”
Fuck. “She wasn’t hurt?” You didn’t show Marr disrespect.
“They got drunk together, so it all ended happily ever after.” He spread his arms wide as if that were all that needed to be said.
I bit my tongue and waited on the ass to get on with it. Zero liked messing with others, and I wasn’t falling for his shit. I could always call Rebel and bitch at him if I had to. He should have told me when we talked this morning.
“So she goes there.” Zero gave me that shit-eating grin of his. “And get this, she demands that Jericho stop this operation and bring you home.”
“That’s not her business.”
Zero nodded. “But she thinks it is—you’re out here on account of her call, so she goes about demanding that you be brought home before you get hurt.”
“She didn’t fucking dis me like that.” Anger rushed through me. I could take care of myself. Didn’t she think I could take care of business?
“She didn’t want you to kill—said it had to hurt the people who did it.” Zero became more serious. “And she’s right that there is always a cost to killing.”
“One I’d pay a thousand times over for the club.”
“As we all would,” Zero agreed. “Anyway it was touch and go for a minute—like it always is when Marr gets her dander up. But they came to terms, and all got drunk together.”
“What did Jericho say?” I didn’t care about the rest.
“That this was for the club, not for her or him. But that she did bear some responsibility and she’d have to live with it, just like he had to live with it.”
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