The Arachnid Conclave: A Suspense Romance Novel (MC Saga Book 2)

by Brogan Riley

  The men ahead of me swear and gasp as they move Dante across the parking lot and then towards our caravan.

  They come to an abrupt stop and Dante’s form swings like a mannequin.

  “Where is his bracelet?” Priest growls.

  Fuck. They were not supposed to discover the absence of the bracelet. What was I thinking about? It was my job to make sure nobody would discover it. Instead, I was busy enjoying the party.

  “He doesn’t need it anymore?” I squeak.

  “Prez was very clear on that, Chantal,” Priest says.

  “What can I say?” I spread my hands.

  “You’d better say nothing,” Cade says, his voice heavy with sarcasm.

  “It was a metal dummy anyway,” I explode.

  Cade growls. “Fucking hell, Chantal. Let the men here be men, okay?”

  “I’m only a fragile little woman.” I raise my hands in a warding gesture.

  The lock was quite a challenge to me and it took me three days to force it open.

  They pull forward, grunting like two old beasts, tumble into the caravan and throw my husband onto the bed. It screeches under his weight. He mumbles something unintelligible as he rolls over, and then he emits a few snoring sounds.

  Priest stands in front of me. “Are you sure?”

  “Two hundred percent,” I say. “He’s my husband and I trust him.”

  Priest hugs me. “Alright. I’ll talk to your dad.”

  Dread surges through me. My dad will kill me this time. “Maybe I could put it back on Dante’s ankle?” I say.

  “Fucking hell,” Cade growls.

  Dante

  I open my eyes. I wish I hadn’t.

  “Hey,” Chantal whispers into my ear, her voice hurting my brain.

  I shoot my arm toward the bedside table, searching for a bottle of water, but there’s only the cold surface under my palm.

  Chantal chuckles and jumps out of the bed. “I’ll get you a glass of water.”

  “Hurry.”

  I’m dying of thirst and nausea and my head is pulsating with a sharp drilling pain. I try to pull myself up, but the nausea pins me down.

  “Chantal, hurry,” I growl.

  She walks back into the bedroom, a glass of water with a piece of lemon in her hand. She perches on the bed and helps me drink.

  “You’ll be better tomorrow,” she says as she puts the empty glass on the bedside table.

  “Tomorrow?” I hitch up the comforter and roll over on my side.

  The headache grows in strength. I feel like I have the worst flu in my life. Shivers alternate with waves of heat.

  I float in a nauseating blur for many hours, my headache still growing in strength. Even touching my skull is painful.

  Jake comes over later in the afternoon, but I’m not able to get up. I can hear the scraps of their conversation coming from the kitchen. Then I can’t hear anything and I drop off into oblivion.

  Chantal

  I put the kettle on. “Molly couldn’t tear her eyes off you.”

  Jake scratches his head. “I like her but she’s not my dream.”

  “No?”

  “No. And don’t be nosey. That’s none of your business.”

  “One day you’ll meet a woman and she’ll snatch you up.”

  “Not gonna happen. I like my freedom, and I like variety in life.”

  “Men.” I roll my eyes with my palms facing the ceiling.

  My dad offered Molly a fake identity and a safe place near Fiona’s little house. She didn’t want it. She feels safe here with us.

  She was in the wrong place at the wrong time. A hitman is hunting her.

  I understand the reasons for her choice.

  I try to understand my brother’s attitude.

  I hear my husband fall off the bed. A nasty swear word leaves his mouth. Jake chuckles.

  “How’s he?” Jake asks.

  “Poorly. It’ll be two days at least until he’s better.”

  The door of the bathroom bangs and I hear more of Dante’s curses.

  “There’s gonna be church tonight,” Jake says.

  “Bring a trolley then. My old man is not able to walk.”

  Jake chuckles louder as he nods. “It’s not a bad idea.”

  Dante tumbles into the kitchen and slides down, sitting on the floor. “Church tonight?”

  Jake nods. “Prez wants you to attend.”

  My husband’s face has a greyish-greenish pallor. He presses his hand against his stomach.

  “Don’t worry, Dante,” I say with a pinch of sarcasm. “They’ll only pour you one shot of vodka and a glass of beer.”

  He winces like he wants to throw up. His face is like a pale green embodiment of nausea.

  Dante

  I tumble into the shower cabin, as the side wall rings and cracks from the weight of my body.

  “Fucking hell,” Chantal growls behind me.

  “I’m so sorry, baby,” I say.

  I should buy her a bunch of flowers. I should kneel down and beg her for forgiveness. I should beg her, emitting puppy-like pleading sounds.

  I should definitely stay away from Gina.

  Fucking hell. The savage woman can finish off ten Dantes.

  Chantal turns on the water and I growl at the coldness pouring over my body. It’s jabbing my skin with a thousand pins. My skin is hot from the hangover and the shock makes me hiss like a girl. Jake’s laughter comes to my ears.

  “Jake, what are you waiting for?” Chantal growls. “Help him or he’ll ruin our shower cabin.”

  “I’m fine, baby,” I say through my clenched teeth. They start chattering together as the cold shower brings some life to my body. “I can make it.”

  “I’m not a fan of my brother-in-law’s bare butt,” Jake says outside the bathroom and erupts into laughter.

  Chantal turns off the water and throws a towel at me. She rolls her eyes and walks off. I pat myself dry, brush my teeth, and slip into a pair of jeans. I walk over to the bedroom and grab a t-shirt. Chantal passes a chunky jumper to me and helps me put my cut on top of it. The little shit giggles at my misery. I’m gonna spank her, I swear. With my hair still damp, I leave the caravan in the company of Jake. I stagger over to the clubhouse and Jake grips my arm so that I won’t fall down.

  “Thanks, brother,” I say.

  “I’ve drunk with Gina twice. Man. A whole week each time. She makes that shit by herself.”

  I trip over the stairs and Jake helps me regain my balance. We enter the bar and drop onto a couch. A club girl moves closer to us. Her name is Molly if I remember correctly.

  “Bring him a few slices of burned toast and a cup of tea with ginger,” Jake says.

  Molly beams at him. “Sure.” She walks off.

  “She’s very eager to bear your children,” I say.

  “She’s nice.”

  Molly delivers the toast and tea. “Anything else?”

  Jake flashes her a grin and waves his hand at her. She slithers between his knees and sits with her feet tucked under her bottom. Her fingers manipulate the zip in his black worn out jeans.

  Right. I should focus on treating my hangover. I need a clear mind for tonight’s church. I bite into a slice of toast and wince. It tastes of coal.

  From the sounds coming to my ears, I can tell Molly has a very skilled mouth. She gags twice, chuckles, and then rises to her feet. Jake puts his dick back into his pants as she walks off.

  “A single man’s privilege,” he says, completely unconcerned.

  “None of my business.”

  His eyes wander off and a moment later, they fall upon me. “The boys say you have respect for my sister.”

  “I love your sister.”

  He nods. “Good. That’s what I wanted to hear.”

  I have no doubts he’d slit my throat if Chantal as much as complained about me to him. Her relatives have been testing me in many ways, now I’m sure.

  “Maybe I should take an old lady,” Jake
says more to himself.

  “Are you thinking about Molly?”

  “She’s very nice.”

  “She’d make you a happy man.”

  He erupts into laughter and we rise to our feet.

  We’re the last club members to enter the office.

  Jackson drops his head to hide his grin after I miss the chair and sit on the floor instead. Jake helps me stand up. I clear my throat and take my seat. Church begins in the bursts of the toads’ laughter.

  “We’re gonna meet up with O’Mavry in four days,” Jackson says, “me, Copper, and Cade.”

  “Aye,” the boys say in unison.

  Jackson fixes his eyes onto mine. “Near my turf. Only her and her bodyguard.”

  “Aye, Prez.” I nod in agreement.

  “Santi, Ricky and two of Zeus’s men are gonna watch our backs,” Jackson continues.

  Now, I see two men I’ve never met before. The older one looks like an old demon—short dark hair, black eyes, and olive skin. The younger guy looks like Jackson’s brother.

  A wave of loud ayes travels through the air. My eyes fix onto Zeus. I know he’s a mobster. I know he owns one third of the country.

  I know we’re in one team now.

  Life is so fucking unpredictable sometimes.

  But I’m not surprised. The club needs powerful allies to remain invisible for the police.

  Church ends and we pour out of the office. I walk over to the bar and one of the club girls shoves a glass of cold beer into my hand. The old demon stands in front of me.

  “You know who I am?” he asks with a Spanish accent.

  “Zeus?”

  “I’m Jackson’s father.”

  “I’m Jackson’s son-in-law.”

  “My granddaughter has very bad taste in men.”

  “They say ‘Love is blind’.”

  “Very blind.” He pats my shoulder, leaning toward me. “One false movement and you’ll be six feet under.”

  I salute him. He’s not someone you can fuck with. If he wants someone dead they’ll be more than dead.

  “Fair enough,” I say.

  Chantal

  He returns after midnight but doesn’t smell of alcohol. I roll over on my side as he slips under the comforter and shoves a bouquet of daisies under my nose.

  I inhale the delicate scent of the blossoms. “Thank you. That’s very nice of you.”

  “Everything for my girl.”

  Nadia has a little green house. She grows tomatoes and cucumbers and a variety of flowers.

  “The meeting went okay?” I ask as my heart leaps.

  I know my dad is up to something big.

  “In four days, I’m going on a short trip,” Dante says.

  “Where exactly?” I take the bouquet from his hand and put it by the bedside lamp that’s still turned on.

  “Not far from here.”

  My heart starts beating faster. “Is this meeting going to be dangerous?”

  “No, don’t worry.”

  “Like hell.” I turn over on my other side. “This is always dangerous.”

  He kisses my shoulder. “Why are you asking then? You already know the answer.”

  “I sometimes hope things are different to the way they are.”

  “Hey.” He tickles my chest. “Let’s have some fun together.”

  “In case you didn’t return?”

  “Chantal, why are you so moody? You’re a biker’s daughter. That’s your life. Our life.”

  “I’m a wife now. I want my husband to be alive and beside me all the time.”

  “I am beside you.”

  “For how long, huh?”

  “Forever.”

  I turn to face him. “Say that again.”

  “No, no talking. You’ll see.”

  He pushes me on my back and crawls on top of me, his hungry lips connecting with mine. Our naked bodies tangle together.

  “How’s your hangover, Dante?”

  “Gone.”

  “It seems like you’re gonna be Gina’s favourite bar mate.”

  “No way in hell.” A fearful tune seeps through his voice.

  I erupt into laughter, but his mouth closes mine and he steals my breath. He puts my calves on his shoulders and enters me fully in one thrust. My walls clench around his hot thickness.

  “This wet pussy is mine, Chantal.” He pulls out and slides back in, burying his whole length inside of me. “Only mine.”

  A thought whisks through my mind. He’s jealous, as unhappy that he has to leave me as I am. “I’m yours, Dante. Always and forever.”

  I love his possessiveness.

  I love him like mad.

  I’m so deliciously rooted. His cock strokes my pleasure point with each hard thrust. I throw my arms over my head as tension gathers in my tummy and explodes, flooding me with a violent wave of liberating hot bliss.

  Our lips meet in a kiss.

  Dante straightens, gripping my hips, and keeps impaling me onto his thick shaft until his body trembles in satisfaction.

  He pulls out and lies down beside me. We kiss like it’s our last kiss.

  I separate my mouth from his, my hand on his cheek. My stomach twists. Nausea surges through me.

  “Chantal?”

  “Ah, four sandwiches with jam, topped with four sausages and a bar of dark chocolate. I will make it, don’t worry.”

  He kisses me on the forehead. “Sweet dreams then.”

  Chapter 14

  Dante

  Jackson hasn’t asked me about my bracelet yet. I’m sure he knows Chantal removed it a few days ago. His eyes don’t betray his emotions, his face as cold as a glacier.

  He’s given me the motorcycle I’m going to ride today. It’s a powerful machine of steel and black colours.

  Excitement surges through my veins. I haven’t ridden a motorcycle for ages.

  My thoughts fly toward Chantal who’s still lying in bed. Something heavy sits on my chest.

  “She must have eaten something stale,” I say to Poppy.

  Chantal woke up early in the morning and has been throwing up since then. My heart flutters as I fight the urge to return to her.

  Poppy arches her eyebrows as Sonja looks at me like I’m a complete idiot. Gina leans toward me and buries me in her bear-like embrace.

  “We’ll look after your little treasure,” Gina says as she slaps me on the back.

  “Thanks,” I wheeze.

  “My cherry liquor is waiting for you,” Gina says with a wink. “Eighty percent.” She grins at me as she ruffles my hair and pulls away.

  “Move people,” Jackson growls.

  We jump on our bikes and rev up the engines.

  Clouds of greyish-blue exhaust surround us as Poppy and Sonja move back. They cling to each other, their faces stiff.

  We shoot forward. The metal gate slides open and two prospects wave their hands at us. Jackson takes the lead; I’m in the middle and Cade is behind me. I like the sense of liberty and power. We’re like three angels of punishment.

  The meeting is going to take place in the middle of nowhere. The location gives us plenty of advantages—the rock walls that form the valley are perfect observation posts and the maze of streams and bushes is a perfect escape route.

  Jackson and I have set everything up via e-mails. Kathryn doesn’t seem to be suspecting that I’m working for Liberator. She thinks I’m his prisoner.

  I’m still amazed at Jackson’s state-of-the-art computer equipment. His operations control centre is stuffed with screens and cables and looks like a space ship deck. He is a master of the art of hacking.

  He trusts me.

  I’m free.

  I could deviate from the road and vanish. I’m a damn good biker.

  I don’t want to do this.

  I realise I have no sense of guilt. I like Jackson’s ways of dealing with crime much better. He’s ruthless but very effective, the god of justice I want to be my commander for life. I’ll be much more effective
working for him.

  I realise he trusts me with his life. I’m gonna show him I’m worthy of his trust.

  I’m gonna show him I’m worthy of his daughter.

  Yep, all in all it’s all about Chantal.

  We speed along a motorway as Santi appears out of the blue and takes the lead.

  No fucking way.

  I rev up and ride after him as fast as I can.

  We’re the wild music of the engines, the roar of revenge, the smack of wind. We’re all pure adrenaline.

  We’re a team, a brotherhood of hunters. I like it.

  No, I love it.

  I love this lifestyle.

  Our bikes jump among the cars moving along the motorway as though the forces of gravity have disappeared. We’re above the laws.

  I’m a cold mind.

  I’m a cold instinct.

  Six hours later.

  Jackson and I meander through the maze formed by ugly blocks of flats. Their windows with broken glass stare at us like gloomy eyes. The flats once belonged to the employees of a factory that was closed down ten years ago. Its skeleton profiles against the sky and the whole area looks like a haunted place. Ash clouds have gathered in the sky but the air is still, giving a sense of claustrophobia. A storm is coming.

  Uneasiness sits on my chest for some mysterious reason.

  “Something stinks here, Prez,” I say.

  Everything seemed to be fine during the meeting. Kathryn was in the company of Brooks as agreed. She gave me the location of our target—the arachnids’ cell near the Austrian border. She gave me the name and the contact details of the secret troop that could support us if we decided to attack the said cell.

  “Tell me more,” Jackson says. “I’m fucking nervous and I don’t know why.”

  “Too easy, Prez. Too convenient.”

  “She’s your boss, so you should know whether we can trust her or not.”

  We pick up the pace, jumping over piles of concrete slabs and tyres. Our motorcycles blur in the distance.

  “Something is fucking wrong,” Jackson says. “I have a gut feeling that something is wrong.”

  Fear strangles my throat as we exchange glances and start running. It’s the kind of primal fear I’ve never experienced before. The sound of our heavy breaths wafts through the ghastly greyness of the air. We sit on our bikes. I freeze for a moment and then a thought blasts in my head.