“Agreed. This doesn’t feel right. We should’ve reached the warehouse by now, right?” Amara asks.
“I think we should’ve. What do you think, Chaz?” I ask.
“I dunno. I can tell you I see lights off in the distance, and I’m not talking about that Area 51 type of shit. You know?” God, he can never stop bein’ a fuckin’ smartass. He always has something jovial to say.
Squintin’ my eyes I look further down the dirt lane and see he is right. There appears to be some sort of structure off in the distance and there are lights on in it. “I dunno what you two are thinkin’ but I say we head for it and go in heavy.”
“Agreed,” Both say at the same time.
We leave the bikes parked and I swear we’re at least a mile away. Though, if we wanted to blow shit up and give him the knowledge we’re here we would’ve taken the bikes. Goin’ in on foot is more secure. The three of us walk together until we reach a chain link fence. A light shines on a sign tellin’ us no trespassers are allowed, security officers are allowed to use extreme force and a bunch of other shit.
The gate’s wide open so we walk right through and move to the right so we’re no longer being illuminated by the lights which were around the fence.
“Why is that door wide open?” Amara asks out of the blue.
I look over and see the door she’s talkin’ about. It looks like someone ran straight through it and left it open without a regard for anyone else.
“I don’t—,” I start to say when I feel somethin’ hit me in the neck. It causes me to stop and touch my skin. Somethin’ is stickin’ from out of my throat, so I yank it out and can see it’s some sort of dart. The type of shit you see in those recon jungle movie shit.
“Jesus. What the fuck was that?!” Amara hisses. She must’ve been hit too.
“Get down, now!” I order to them, but I hear Chaz curse loudly and I know we’ve all been hit.
For some reason I feel the need to blink over and over again. My body begins to feel weighted down to the ground, fatigue and exhaustion wash over me and I know this shit isn’t good. Whatever was in that dart is doin’ this to me. Fuck, not only to me. To everyone here.
The last thing I recall before everything goes black is how I fuckin’ forgot to text Damon where we were. There’s no fuckin’ chance at gettin’ backup now.
Fuck.
Chapter Twenty-Six
I will never fit in. That’s one of my best qualities
~ Terri Willingham
Dixon
My head pounds extensively from my temple to the back, right above the base of my neck. A warm feeling drips down the side of my head and I feel it rollin’ over my shoulder. That’s when I see my shirt is stained with crimson red. Motherfucker, I’m bleedin’. How in the fuck am I bleedin’? I thought I was just shot with a tranquilizer dart.
Yanking my hands, I quickly realize they’re tied behind me and I’m secured to some sort of metal pole. Everything I’m doin’ is out of natural instinct right now. I look around me and see Chaz tied up the same way across from me, and Amara’s tied up on the other side of the room. We’re all secured to these poles, which must support the second level of the warehouse and roof.
Amara’s flaming red hair falls in front of her face, and her head is leanin’ forward. Shit. I already don’t like this. Meanwhile, Chaz is comin’ to ‘cause I hear him groanin’ from over here. I glance over to the left and see there’s some sort of product stacked high up in boxes on metal shelves. There’s a skid-steer over in the corner, so this place must be operational to some extent.
The sound of a hinge creakin’ forces me to look over in the direction and I see this fucker headin’ straight for us. He’s gotta be around six-two, maybe six-three. He looks like one of those uppity bastards who has millions with the way he dresses. He isn’t in a cut, he’s not wearin’ colors. Nope, instead he’s in a black buttoned-down dress shirt with matching slacks and shoes. His hair is combed back perfectly, and I can instantly tell he’s one of the types of guys who straighten their facial hair with that pussy type shit the girls use.
“I have to say, I didn’t expect you to wake so soon,” He says, approaching me. His fancy shoes tap against the concrete floor and I really get the feelin’ he likes to feel like he’s the one in charge.
“Maybe your shit isn’t as tough as you think,” I sneer, tryin’ to get a reaction out of him. If I do, I might be able to figure something out quickly.
Lucien glances down to my cut, “You’re the VP? I thought that was the lovely lady over there?” He points back to Amara. “Oh well, I guess I’ll have to fuck with you then. I was really looking forward to having some fun with her.”
The mere insinuation he’d do anything to hurt Amara pisses me off more than I can say. He’s already hurt my sister, and even though Amara frustrates the hell outta us brothers at the club, she’s our family. We respect her, and she might kill me for thinkin’ this, but we love the girl. She’s far from perfect, but she’s a Reaper. “Touch her and watch what happens to you, fucker.” I growl, keepin’ my eyes trained on his. This bastard needs to know he’s dealin’ with rabid beasts. But damn, the moment one of us gets free he’s going to wish he’d fled.
Lucien smiles, licks his lips and nods. “Now I get it. She must be your woman. Everything I’ve ever heard about Amara points to how slutty she is. You see, I did a bit of digging into your club. It started years ago. I was friends with someone who wasn’t a fan of you, or the Skulls Renegade. He gave me some pointers on how to pull this shit off successfully. Though, Max was much more lower class. And when I think about it, he wasn’t the smartest. I watched him get caught, but man, I learned from his mistakes. You see Dixon, I’ve been watching your club since you’ve been in Las Vegas. I’ve been keeping tabs on you for years, longer than any of you even realize it. You started to catch on, and while it’s adorable you think you can take me down . . . you’re merely amusing to me.”
Anger ferments within me at listenin’ to this guy’s bullshit. “I looked into all of your backgrounds, and you . . . your story was the most fascinating to me. I saw the sad story about two kids ripped apart and knew you’d let her back in your life at some point. I fucking knew she’d run back to you. She told me about a month ago how she was thinking about reaching out to her older brother, one she hadn’t seen since she was a child. I of course urged her to do so, because I wanted my plan to unfold the way it should’ve.” He bends down in front of me and smiles so widely I want to knock every single one of his teeth out. “It went exactly to plan. It led you three here. Abbey played her part so well. Actually, one thing didn’t go correctly. I wanted my disappointment of a half-brother to be here instead of that failure at life, Chaz, but I suppose I’ll have to adjust my plan a tiny bit.”
“What the fuck do you want?” I growl, yankin’ my hands outward. If I’m lucky one of these will break and I can lunge toward Lucien.
“I want your club to suffer. You’re responsible for my father’s death, and many of my brothers in Kansas. I left with the few who remained and not even twelve hours into my ride I received a notification those fucking low lives that call themselves Devil’s Riot MC blew up my club back in North Carolina. There wasn’t one survivor. Now, there are only three Heretics who remain and I’m one of them.”
This shit doesn’t make sense to me. He wants the club to suffer, says how we’re responsible for his father’s death . . . but that only happened a few months back. Why in the fuck is he makin’ it sound like this has been his goal for eons?
It would only make sense unless he has been. “You make it sound like you’ve had somethin’ against us for a while. Wanna fill me in on those details,” I grumble, wantin’ this bastard to know I’m not pleased. Plus, I need to know whatever it is I don’t have the knowledge of right now.
Lucien chuckles, “You don’t know, do you?” He runs his hand across his mouth, cacklin’ ridiculously until he finally starts to speak again. “My olde
r idiot of a half-brother is Cobra. The weakling my father never wanted. He told me so, how he was not worthy of our bloodline. My father had tried to show him what being a true man meant, but he didn’t grasp the idea. So, he gave up on Cobra and had me. I was his protege though, I’m better than he could’ve ever imagined. I’m much more than he ever taught me to be.”
What in the ever lovin’ fuck bullshit is this? Cobra is this asshole’s half-brother? Jesus Christ. Did Damon or Cobra know this?!
“You don’t look like a biker. You were supposed to be with the Lucifer’s Heretics. Right?” I crane my neck over to the side, not seein’ someone who’s in a club, but I see some kingpin gangster wannabe.
“I learned what I needed from my father about bikers, though, I learned everything else from my mother about organized crime. You see, I’m not just any man. I have the most powerful bloodlines coursing through my veins.”
“Sounds like you’re insane to me,” I comment.
“Your opinion doesn’t matter to me.”
“So, why continue to come after the club, usin’ my sister to get there?” I ask, wantin’ to get as much information out of him as possible. Plus, the longer I keep talkin’ the more time I give Chaz to figure somethin’ out.
“Ah, yes. I’d made that decision years ago. I’d come to visit your sister once every few months, staying for a few weeks in the summer. I made it look like we were in the perfect relationship, when in reality I had my property back home. Rachel, God. I fucking loved to torment her. She’s my woman, though I realize I may just have to cut that end loose. I suppose I was younger and came to pursue your sister in an attempt to get to my brother and prove a point to my father about how I was the more powerful offspring. Although, I should’ve given up. I didn’t realize until it was too late that I never needed to prove myself to him. He already knew who I was.”
“So, why keep fuckin’ with us then?”
Lucien scoffs, “Because my father declared war on your club and I plan to see it through. Mark my words, Dixon, I will rip your club apart.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
She fell in love with him deeply; he was both: a savage and a gentleman. The balance made her feel safe and alive.
~ S. McNutt
Indra
Dixon said he was going out on a run earlier. I understand it means he could be doing something dangerous, so I thought after work I’d pick up Jalen and surprise him back at the trailer. We’ve both been spending a good amount of time here since Dixon made his guest room into Jalen’s bedroom..
It’s been great to see Jalen warming up so much to him. I didn’t tell Dixon this, but one of my worries was that Jalen wouldn’t like him as much as I did. My mother and father will be here tomorrow to meet the man I’ve fallen so hard for, and while I should be nervous— I’m not. In fact, I’m thrilled. My stomach is flipping with excitement.
Deep down I think they both knew at some point I’d find someone to move on with. How I’d open myself back up to love, and I doubt they’d picture Dixon as the type of man who I opened my heart to, but I don’t regret it in the least bit. Over the last few weeks we’ve been dating he’s made my life worth living again. Not that I didn’t enjoy it before, but it was different. These days I find much more joy in my life.
I pull my car up to Dixon’s trailer and put it in park, unbuckle my seatbelt, turn the car off and grab my purse before I get out the door. Jalen’s saying something to me in the back, so I open up his door and pull him from his car seat, holding him on my hip as I shut the door.
“Hey little guy!” Sakura beams, running up to us.
“Hey. How’re things?” I ask.
She smiles brightly as she always does. She’s one of those infectiously positive people, and I believe the club needs someone like her around. “I’m doing great. Didn’t know to expect you guys tonight, especially so late.”
“Yeah, I closed the jewelry store tonight. I was going to stay at my place but my parents are coming to town and our house is small, so I left the key under the mat for them and I’ll stay here while they’re in town.”
Sakura giggles lightly, “I get it, parents can be a bit much.”
“Yeah, I love them but . . . to say they’re overbearing is a drastic understatement.”
The door to Damon’s trailer flies open and slams shut with no warning, causing me to jolt. I shake so hard Jalen gets scared and starts to cry. “Oh honey, it’s alright. I’m sorry. Everything is fine.” Even though I’m telling Jalen everything is fine, I can see everything isn’t fine.
“Sakura, do you have the keys to Mouser’s truck?” Damon asks, rushing over to us.
“No, I can go get them in the house though.” She replies, but I’m already holding my keys out to Damon.
“Here, take mine. Is everything okay?” I ask.
Damon looks to Jalen, giving me a signal he doesn’t want the little guy to hear this. Sakura must figure it out rather quickly, because she walks up and takes him from my arms. “I’m gonna get him settled into bed and when you get back I’ll go to my house.” Sakura takes Jalen away and goes into Dixon’s trailer. He has a nasty habit for keeping the thing unlocked, but I suppose when you live with plenty of guys who wouldn’t have any problem tackling an intruder, it doesn’t really matter.
“Dixon’s old man just got released from prison. He mentioned he’d be coming by at some point.”
“Okay?” I say, furrowing my brows. There isn’t anyone here.
“Obviously, he didn’t show up. He decided to make a pit stop at a bar down the road and fuckin’ lost his shit. Broke a few bottles, got into a brawl. He got sloshed and now I have to go clean up his mess. Luckily, we know the owner since he owns the property to the right of us.” Damon explains.
“Jesus, that isn’t good. Do you want me to drive?” I offer, thinking of the only way I can really help.
“Actually, yeah. His old man can put up a fight. The man is crazy enough to open the door while I’d be driving your car.”
Oh lord. I walk back over to my car, open the door, get in and buckle myself up before turning it on. Meanwhile, Damon’s in the passenger side giving me directions on how to get to where we’re headed. He was right when he said just up the road. I know the bar very well. It’s a hole in the wall type of joint called Tumbleweed.
We get to the bar within about five minutes. That’s partially because I drove a little bit quicker than I should’ve. Damon hops out before I’m parked, so I’m left trying to catch up with him. Once I’m out of the car I dart into the bar and see it’s empty except for four men. Three of whom are behind the bar.
The guy who seems to be in charge has his bulky arms crossed, and he’s wearing one of those plaid shirts that have the sleeves cutoff. Yup, a real tough guy. “Get him outta my bar,” It’s evident he’s not happy, but when I see the damage in here . . . I’d be upset too.
Tables are split in half, chairs along with it. Glass is everywhere and so much alcohol is on the floor. “Vic, I’m so sorry about this.” Damon tells him.
“As long as you make it right, I don’t give a shit. Guy loved to blab about how his kid is Dixon and we shouldn’t fuck with y’all. I recommend you teach him some manners.” Vic hisses, glaring at the older man . . . who honestly looks exactly like his son. The only difference is how he’s thirty or so years older.
“Will do. Again, sorry for the trouble.” Damon tells him, going over to Dixon’s dad he wraps his arm around him and starts walking over to me. The older man sways from side to side, showing us just how intoxicated he is.
“C’mon, we need to get outta here. You really stirred shit up, you know that?” Damon says, but the old man doesn’t pay attention to him. He looks directly at me.
“Shit, you bring me a clubwhore to welcome me home? I like them bitches, but I’m not into the black chicks. You got another one who can suck me off real good?”
Damon immediately stops, “Indra isn’t a clubwhore, old man. She’s D
ixon’s woman and you’d best show her some respect.”
Dixon’s dad looks me up and down, and out of nowhere he busts into laughter. “There’s no way my son would date a black girl! What kind of joke is this?!”
Damon releases Dixon’s dad and I can’t believe what I’m seeing. He pushes the old man straight on the ground. He hits the dirt hard and seems even more confused. “Listen up, and fuck, you’d better not say one more disrespectful thing or—”
“Or what?” The old man sneers.
“Or I’ll call your parole officer personally and let him know you weren’t even out for more than twenty-four hours before you decided to damage someone’s property. Pretty damn sure Vic wouldn’t have a problem relaying that information either.” Wow. I don’t know what I expected Damon to say, but I didn’t think that was it. “Now that I have your attention I’ll continue. Indra is Dixon’s woman. She is essentially your daughter and if you disrespect her again, I will get you locked up like the dog you are.”
“Damon, it’s okay . . . you don’t have to—” I start to say lowly, but he shoots me a glare that tells me he’s pissed.
“Indra, I do. You’re as much a part of this club as the rest of us. I won’t have some ignorant piece of shit treating you like this.” Damon shifts his attention over to Dixon’s dad, “Now get up off your ass and get into the back of Indra’s car, and so help me God, if you open up your fuckin’ mouth before we get back to the club . . .” Damon hisses, heading for my car. I follow his lead and get in the driver’s seat.
Eventually Dixon’s dad gets in the car and I drive him back to the clubhouse. We all part ways, but before we do, I notice how Damon stares at his phone for a good couple of moments and then rushes into the club. Not thinking anything of it, I go check on Jalen who’s fast asleep. Lord, I can’t wait until Dixon gets back here. Meeting his dad went horribly wrong.
Mayhem: A Reapers MC Boxset Page 13