Escaping From Forever: Tank & Kat's story, Part 1 (Battle Born MC Book 5)

by Scarlett Black

  I raise a brow and turn my head to the right. A brazen man who looks like a Viking and wearing an MC cut smiles like the devil back at me. His dark blond hair shines from the light overhead. My fingers itch to run through his short beard. I don’t smile back. I don’t smile, ever. His eyes caress over my tattoos that peak out from my tank top, and over my long, black hair.

  “You find what you’re looking for tonight?” the Viking lays a strong arm on the bar and leans into my body, eyeing me with a knowing look. “This cat and mouse game you’re playing with that dumbass is too easy. Tell me, kitty cat, are you excited?” His deep baritone washes over my body in waves.

  Closing my eyes, I let his deep voice penetrate me. I involuntarily moan at the feeling of it wrapping around me tightly. My eyes snap back open to his dark blue ones.

  Yes.

  Our eyes agree without words, an unspoken promise to have each other for the night. I pull out a hundred-dollar bill from my bra and toss it on the bar top toward the bartender.

  He was still watching, and I can feel his disappointment permeate the air from where I’m sitting. But this Viking of a man will give me what I need, I can feel it.

  “Keep’em coming,” I dismiss the bartender, demanding our drinks and the Viking’s place in my bed.

  The sound of money being whisked away, followed by a shot glass placed next to mine, and then liquid filling both of them is all just white noise. The Viking has my full attention. Our intense stare holds us captive to the other this time. This man keeps my desires peaked and ignited.

  He begins to speak, but I stop him and hold my finger up to his plump lips.

  “No names.”

  Grabbing my hand, he turns it over in his and places a kiss on the top before setting it on his leg. He points to his patch on his cut that says ‘Tank’. Hard to miss.

  Tank leans into my body again, “I don’t need your name, but you need to know mine when you scream it later. I want to hear it cry out from this beautiful creature.” Boldly, he places a chaste kiss on my lips.

  My breath picks up and, like old habits, I tap it down, not wanting to give him too much. He takes my hand that is not resting on his leg and pulls it up to him. His mouth comes down and licks the flesh on my wrist with his tongue, then his teeth scrape my skin. Goose bumps cover me as he begins to sprinkle salt over the area, followed by dark and dirty ideas that begin to sprinkle into my fantasies. He devours my skin that’s coated with the salt, and then kisses my lips. The intensity assaults my taste buds along with his unique flavor when his tongue captures mine.

  He pulls away and sits back on his stool, then hands me my shot and we clink our glasses together before saying, “Cheers” from him and “Salud” coming from me. Together, we toss back the fiery liquid. Our eyes catch, watching the other as we set the glasses back down.

  My eyes squint from the burn while his smile back at me. Tank’s large hands delicately come up to hold my face, and I almost flinch from it. He does catch the slight shift in my body and tries to cover his reaction to me. Games. A life full of games. I will never escape.

  “Make me forget, Tank,” I whisper. “Make me scream your name from pleasure, and maybe just a little pain.”

  He holds my face inches from his, looking into my eyes for the truth in my statement. He must see my will and desire to get lost into him. He sucks my bottom lip into his mouth. Salaciously, he consumes me in this public busy casino bar in downtown Las Vegas.

  This Viking and I drink into the night with only minimal words spoken. We tease each other with our promises of fulfilled desires only.

  The haze cloaks around us. I can’t say what made me trust this stranger, but I do trust him. I will allow him to take my body, but not my heart. He makes good on his promise and makes me scream for him multiple times into a dark hotel room.

  My mind is free for this one night, but not my life.

  Chapter 17

  Black Widow

  Months, maybe even a year by now, have passed since I left Tank alone and naked in the hotel room in Las Vegas. I happened to be there on a work assignment for the night and drove back to California the next morning.

  Best night of my life.

  The loneliness crept in and he helped me feel cherished even for a short time. But I forbid myself from hooking up again until all this is behind me.

  I stare at the computer screen, not sure if I want to open the email that was sent to me. The man on the other end has an alias, Spider, within the dark web. I also know of another Spider that works with the Battle Born MC. Could this be the same Spider? My fingers tap as I mull over my choices.

  It has been a few years since I fled Mexico. I’ve been making money by being a hit for hire, or a Sicaria, alias Black Widow. I have other reasons for choosing to do this, one big benefit being that it has paid my bills well. I’ve been comfortable, and I have been able to keep myself hidden.

  The Battle Born MC has been on my radar for a long time now. I’ve been watching them from afar. Honestly, it doesn’t surprise me a bit that they’ve finally reached out. I thought it would have been a little sooner since my husband was the one who had created a war for them.

  From what I’ve dug up, they believed that my father, Cobra, was responsible for it all. In many ways, he was and he also wasn’t. From what Cobra did to Fuego and Cuervo, it’s been a long time coming between my old man and the Battle Born brothers by blood.

  It really hurt and enraged me to find out that not only had my father had my aunt killed, but that he also had my mother murdered, like cattle. He was done with them and disposed of them like trash. He had been pissed at my mother for trying to take my sister and me away from him. Despite what my sister thought and was probably told by our father.

  He was revengeful when my aunt got pregnant by Cuervo. His sister had been promised to marry a Cartel man, under the boss. He felt that he had been betrayed by both Cuervo, who was working for him at the time, mulling drugs, and by my aunt. He found revenge in killing her years later. After she gave birth to three kids, he had his men rape her and slit her throat right in front of them. Jenn, being the eldest of the kids, survived with the horrific memories.

  I have plans for Cobra, for all of them who did me wrong. But my father will die first, and I am going to need help. Who takes on an MC alone, let alone the Cartel? Not a damn sane person, even with the backing of an army. It’s crazy as hell, but I have no other options. I’m taking down a piece or a person at a time until I get what I want, freedom for me and my family from the Cartel.

  I don’t believe Battle Born knows who I am, or at least most of them don’t. Cuervo and Fuego will know who I am only when they hear my name. I haven’t seen them since I was a child.

  I tap my finger on the laptop and think on whether I’m prepared to move forward. Eventually, I will be exposed if I go through with this. Every deal made affects the future and the battle I’m up against. Like I said, I have no other options, and my blood family means shit to me. Battle Born is the best shot I got, and we have a common enemy.

  I click on the email and read the script.

  Black Widow,

  RE: Job for Hire

  Payment depending on experience and results. Please respond to apply, interview required for position.

  Spider

  Before responding, I do a quick check and reach out to some resources on the dark web to see if I can get a feel for what this could be. I set the word out to a few contacts and log off. I have another job to finish before I can even consider taking this one.

  With my briefcase in hand, I head to work and drive through the heavy traffic. The California evening is stagnant with the smog and heat in the late summer air. I maneuver the car down the busy crammed freeways until I reach the hotel. I park it, never using the valet service, then strut into the bar in my blood red dress. It gives me an electric energy that’s aimed toward the man I’m hunting tonight.

  I order a dainty drink with an umbrella in it. Righ
t about six o’clock on the nose, the businessman I’m waiting for walks in wearing an impressive black designer suit with a crisp white shirt. He’s a damn fine looking man. Too bad he’s a complete piece of shit.

  I stir the sugary drink with the straw and look down at the counter. Like a magnet drawn to the bright red of my dress, he walks over and sits right next to me even though there are plenty of empty stools on either side.

  After watching him for weeks, I know that he, one, always sits here, two, always goes for the girl in the bright colored, flashy dress who sits alone. Three, he rapes her after he gives her plenty of alcohol and drugs. And then, as a final insult, he always has witnesses to testify that she was more than willing to drink and then leave with him.

  My client is a high paid businesswoman who was raped by this bastard. After a trial over a year ago, during which she had no proof, he was let go with zero charges. Laws are bullshit, and she found me to take out this slimy fuck.

  “Evening, gorgeous, are you waiting for anyone?” His deep baritone sends chills up my spine.

  I raise my head shyly, and, with a little accented twist, I say, “No, I don’t have a boyfriend anymore.” As I push out a pouty bottom lip, he can’t take his eyes off my plump, red lips.

  We spend the next fifteen minutes chatting and flirting. I move to get up before he can ask me for a refill. He may feel in control but he’s being directed along by my little show.

  “Good night, Mr…?” I raise a brow, and he stands to take my hand, raising it to his mouth.

  “Jameson.” He places a soft kiss on the top. My eyes find his, and I stare intently, drawing him in.

  “You want to come up to my room?” I whisper sweetly.

  He tugs me forward gently and wraps his paws around my body. We take an elevator up to a room that I already paid for with his card.

  “More than anything.” His hot breath heats my skin, and I suppress the gag that wants to come up. I step out of his hold just enough to turn around. He keeps a tight grip on my hip and his fingers squeeze into my flesh all the way to the room.

  Once we get there, I take the key card out of my clutch and hand it over to him. I want him to walk in first.

  “Sit down, Mr. Jameson, I’ll get you a drink,” I say with all the honey I can find to make it sweet and sultry.

  He sits by the window, and I watch him while he undresses me with his eyes. The glass already has clear poison laced in, sitting at the bottom, that will stop his heart about ten minutes after ingesting it. I saunter over to him and pass him what looks like a whiskey neat.

  The predator in his gaze is alarming, and, if I let him close to me, I will have about two minutes before his hands will close around my throat.

  “I’ll be right back, ladies’ room,” I explain and step back from his presence to burn some time. After about two minutes, I flush the toilet and wash my hands.

  I walk out to see a very annoyed asshole by the look in his eyes. He must have not appreciated me stalling.

  “Sit back, honey, I want to reward you for your patience.” I tap my phone to find a slow song, then start swinging my hips back and forth. My hands run over my body and grip my tits before they are running through my hair. Slowly, before the song is about to end, I start pulling the dress up and over my head.

  And then, it finally happens. I watch as he clutches at his throat and starts gasping, grabbing at his chest and pulling on his tie. “Call 911,” he begs of me.

  Dropping the dress that’s scrunched up in my hands, I watch the lousy dick squirm before he manages to locate his cell phone. Quickly, I step forward to snatch it away from him and toss it onto the bed.

  He falls forward onto his knees, reaching for me, then looks with desperation in the direction of the phone. Not too much longer and he is twitching, dying on the floor. Pretty merciful death if you ask me.

  Bending over, I wrap my fingers around his wrist and check his pulse, making sure that the deadly cocktail has stopped his heart and that he’s actually dead before I leave. A minute passes before his pulse is undetectable.

  I stand up to put my dress back on, then start wiping the room down, removing all of my fingerprints. The glass he drank from, I pick it up from the floor and wash out the remains in the sink, then place it back on the dresser, holding it with a paper towel.

  Before leaving, I grab my clutch and slip out through the joined door that connects this room to the one next door. I deadbolt it from the other side and walk into the bathroom. I take a shower and proceed to remove all the makeup I used to cover my tattoos and face, and the slutty dress, changing into a black business suit and snow-white shirt, and I snicker at that. I slip on the kitten heels I packed in the briefcase and a flowery scarf.

  On a mission to get out of here as soon as possible, I wrap my hair into a tight bun pinned at the back of my head. I stuff the slutty dress and high heels into a plastic bag and then into the briefcase, then take out the burner cell and text my client an update.

  Black Widow: Job done.

  I wipe the phone clean of any information and then power it off, knowing that triple digits will be deposited into an offshore account into a name that no one would tie to me, Eli Lucas Taylor. My ex client and I will never talk to the other again or she will have to die to keep my secrets. I also wipe down the room I paid for of any fingerprints and leave the hotel.

  A few blocks away from the building, I go inside a restaurant and sit down to have dinner alone, then go to dump the clothes in the trashcan inside their restroom. This place prides itself on cleaning the bathrooms hourly, and I’m counting on it. One less piece of shit that does not walk this earth has been taken care of.

  It is a great day, so, on my way home, I grab dessert and toss my burner phone into a dumpster.

  Chapter 18

  Spider

  Reno, Nevada

  The Prez, Blade, along with the rest of us, have been feeling the heat to resolve our problems since we’ve been up here this last year or so. I went to our Prez with a wild idea to contact the Black Widow. I monitor the dark web frequently, and she has started to come in as a big player. Blade agreed, but that doesn’t mean he or I liked calling in an unknown for help. We’ve been running out of leads and ideas and this is a Hail Mary.

  About two days after sending the email to the Black Widow, I finally get a response. I was concerned that I wouldn’t hear anything back from her. Between what I know from the dark places of the web and what I was able to dig up off the street, the Black Widow can help us get ahead of this mess by getting us some intel without it looking like us asking for it.

  Spider,

  Please call to make arrangements for a phone interview. 475-771-3695

  BW

  Taking out my cell, I give Blade a call and inform him that the Black Widow is ready for a conference call. Within the hour, he is ready.

  Blade and his Ol’ Lady, Vegas, have been hiding up in Tahoe, away from that dick, Johnny. We have been working on taking him out. So far, we know he’s been helping with the shipments through our territory. We just need to find out who he’s working for. Hence, the reason why we decided to call in the Black Widow.

  I walk into my office to grab a new burner phone, making the call to Blade, then connect us to the number she sent me. After a few rings, she picks up and curtly speaks, “Hello. You have three minutes.”

  I smirk because I did trace my call to her. “We want information on the Los Malditos Reyes MC. I believe we have a mutual interest in taking them out. We can work together. Be at the Downtown Warehouse we own in twenty-four hours. I’ll text you the address.”

  She doesn’t confirm or say another word, just hangs up.

  “Do you think she knows I was listening? How does she know who she’s meeting?” Blade asks, suspicion of the woman lacing his voice, as it should.

  “We’ve been keeping an eye on each other, and, from what I can tell, she could have intel on the Cartel and the MC down in Mexico. She’s been und
er the radar for the most part. She is very picky about the jobs she takes. Money is not in issue. I believe it’s more of an agenda that she has.”

  Blade lets out a long sigh. “We have to do something. Stryker is going to kick my ass when he finds out we’ve been hunting her since we got up here.”

  “We got your back, Blade, what other choice did we have? Either she’s useful or we take a piece of the puzzle out of this fucking nightmare we have to clean up from the past.”

  I just hope like hell no one dies because of what Blade and I chose to do by bringing her in.

  Black Widow

  I rev the engine of my used Honda Civic that is parked outside of this dive motel on Fourth Street in Reno, Nevada, and leave for the location Spider texted me moments ago.

  Spider: 264 Keystone at 1:00 p.m.

  I’m a day early, but I’m going to check out the building. Then, I’m heading to the clubhouse to stake out their MC before I decide if I’m showing up tomorrow or not.

  The building on Keystone is completely empty, dark and unused, with some trash and weeds floating around. They must use this site only for very few meetings, which is both good and bad. I won’t walk into their clubhouse full of bikers. They could be setting me up here too, but, if I had to choose, it would be here.

  I sit for hours in my car that’s parked down the street, waiting for the sun to set to see if anything, or anyone, comes out of it in the dark. The sun has been down for hours now and nothing has moved. The building appears to be completely abandoned.