Bleed Me (Haunted Roads Book 3)

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Bleed Me (Haunted Roads Book 3) Page 26

by India R. Adams


  Down a long dirt road where there was nothing but trees and more land, we pulled up to barbed-wire fencing that rolled open for us before we even needed to slow down; it was a clear indication Redemption Ryders saw us coming before our wheels even hit their dirt and gravel.

  Diesel and a few Ryders greeted us by the warehouse where we sheltered our bikes. As soon as I pulled off my helmet, I tucked myself inside my hoodie to cover my identity. Diesel quickly escorted us inside their clubhouse. Their club wasn’t underground like the Barn, but there weren’t windows. There was plenty of protection and lots of monitors on the walls, just like the Stallions had. Also, like the Barn, the angles of the cameras showed that they were located in unexpected areas, so they couldn’t be easily found and shot out.

  That was all I got to truly take in before Diesel was moving us along. This was not his normal go-lucky self. He pointed to me, Dagger, and Lynx. “Come with me.” Leaving the rest of the Stallions in the big room, he led us down a hallway that had picture frames of past parties and members. “My men are rounding up their families for lockdown.” I knew Diesel had been through the wringer trying to find Art, but he looked half-manic and disturbed. Dark bags hung under his eyes, and I was positive his hair hadn’t seen a comb in a week.

  My eyes raced to Dagger, who couldn’t stop staring at his brother. “Diesel—”

  A bit on the deranged side, Diesel spun and got in his brother’s face. “They. Fucked. My. Boy. Up.”

  “And you killed him!”

  “I want more blood!”

  Dagger’s face, even around his eye patch, reddened, and veins popped from his neck. “Then. Let’s. Kill. Them. All.”

  The madness in Diesel’s blue eyes slightly faded right before he nodded, exhaling as if he just realized he was no longer carrying all the pressure for his club.

  Lynx assured him, “Every club around the country and beyond will hear about what revenge we pay forward. Even after this war, when these fuckers finally run from,” he poked Diesel’s chest, “your motherfuckin’ turf, we will chase and destroy like savage animals who never tire of corpses. Even if it takes years to destroy them all.”

  Diesel sunk back into the hallway’s wall. “Damn, I’ve missed you crazy fuckers.”

  The tension was broken. May have only lasted seconds, but Diesel was starting to look somewhat human again. Then his cell buzzed in his front pocket. After reading it, he looked at me. “I need a favor.”

  “Name it.”

  “Keep you and that gun I keep hearing about by my son’s side.”

  Three sets of jaws dropped in that hallway. Diesel had asked me to protect his son. Now being a father, I understood what an honor that was.

  I dipped my chin. “No one will get near him.”

  “Good.” He took another deep breath… then smirked. “Now for the scary part. Viola is on her way for lockdown.”

  Dagger, Lynx, and I all started grumbling something along the lines of, “We’re all gonna die… I’d rather face the gunfight… That girl is hell on heels…”

  Then Diesel added, “With Tuck.”

  Ah, shit.

  Diesel nodded. “I know.” He started walking again but told me, “I’m rooming you with Art. Not only is the clubhouse going to be packed tight with bodies, but V won’t bother Art, knowing he’s hurt.”

  I grabbed Diesel’s arm. “Delilah?”

  “Out of town with Maverick.”

  “Maverick?”

  He eyed me, unsure what to admit. “Boxer Boy has gone pro. She’s not staying for the fight. She don’t like them, but we have time before she drives home.”

  I sighed. “So, for now, she’s safe.” My chest seized. “Mr. Ward?”

  Diesel patted my shoulder. “He’s solid, kid.” Chuckling, he said, “You may look like a badass biker now, but I see you’re still kindhearted. Good to know.” He opened a door that led into a dark room and pointed to a bed. There was a blanket showing a man’s body curled up under it, his back to us. The sight made me wonder if that is what I looked like when Saph watched over me my first night, banged up with a concussion.

  After Diesel shut the door behind me, I walked toward Art and sat on the edge of his bed, not wanting to wake him, but he said, “Hey,” his voice dry and raspy.

  “Brother, you good?”

  He chuckled, but it held no humor. Not one ounce. “Is Justice here?”

  I figured he was needing the one person that could understand how he felt right now so I apologized, “No, sorry—”

  The darkness wasn’t enough to cover his cry. He coughed, trying to choke it down. “Where is she? Alone? Don’t let him get her—”

  “She’s in lockdown.” I tried to calm him.

  “Are you sure? She should be here!” He coughed again, fighting more tears, and swallowed.

  Art, so shook up that he felt Justice under attack with us at the clubhouse was safer than with the enemy, made my skin crawl. So, I forced my voice to sound confident. “I got her underground, man. I swear it.”

  His sigh echoed in the quiet room as he rolled to his back.

  “She’s safe.” I tried again to reassure him.

  He drew a palm down his face, wiping wetness we all tried to hide from time to time. “Not if they’re anything like him.”

  “Your pops killed him.”

  He rested a bent arm over his eyes. “I know.”

  “They hurt you, Art?”

  “Fuck those pussies.”

  Even though it was still dark, I nodded. “Yeah, I understand that.”

  He smacked the side of my thigh as if we weren’t talkin’ heavy shit. “Hey! How’re your little brats?”

  “Ah, shit.” I tried to laugh. “Fucking the club up. Ice even puked on Lynx’s cut.”

  Art started laughing so hard it quickly turned into him wincing and rolling back to his side. Grabbing a bottle of water from his nightstand, I asked, “They get your ribs?” while trying to help him sit up.

  “They’ll heal.” He took a sip from the bottle.

  “Yes, they will.”

  Through a wince, he eyed me. “Sorry about that.”

  Remembering the last time I was in this town, hanging from a rope in an abandoned barn, sore as hell from Art’s beating, I set the water back down. “I had that shit coming.”

  “He did. Not you.”

  Shrugging, I admitted, “One and the same.”

  Exhausted from the little bit of exertion, Art laid back down. “Giver… When Justice and I were at Seth’s dad’s place, we saw wicked shit.”

  “Justice told me a little about it.”

  “Seth… Well, it wasn’t only us who were hurt.” His fingers pulled at a loose string on his comforter. “At least Justice and I had each other. Seth… He was alone.” After a pause, he added, “Why that kid grew up to want revenge for his abusers—Shit. Maybe I do know that answer. Something was always off with him, then… we witnessed his change.”

  I was suddenly finding it hard to breathe.

  “When did your ‘change’ happen?”

  I could barely speak but understood why Diesel wanted me to be the one in Art’s room, so I found the courage to do right by the man who did right by me. “I believe after I buried my sister…” I swallowed. “I watched her die… I couldn’t save her…” My voice cracked, “Like you did Justice.” That was my way of thanking him for helping Justice. I needed him to know that I knew what he had done, and how I would forever be grateful.

  Tears started dripping from Art… His whisper was so full of guilt. “Being in captivity again, man… I wished for Justice to appear.” He shrugged like he was dumbfounded to be such a piece of shit.

  Had I not known such loneliness, I would have punched that man for wishing any harm on my woman, but I understood the desperation. My eyes welled up. “I probably did the same, wanting Jenny back.”

  After a long pause and more silent tears from Artist, he finally asked, “Will I change? Like you and Seth?”<
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  I sharply inhaled when I finally comprehended his pending fear. “Art, fuck. Is that what you think?” With blue eyes so lost, he nodded. I shook my head. “Dude, I, uh… no. I don’t think it happens like that.”

  His lips pursed as he blew out his relief.

  We sat in silence until he said, “Seth blames Justice for his father’s—The Pack’s death.”

  “I don’t know who ‘The Pack’ is, but it’s blamed, Art. Seth is dead.”

  It sounded like he was mentally waving a white flag. “Do you think my soul will believe that someday?”

  “I do. I really do—”

  I couldn’t finish my sentence because, from the hallway, I heard a voice I hadn’t heard in years. Viola. “Bro! Chill! I only want to see him for two seconds.”

  Eyes wide as saucers, Art hastily pointed to his dark bathroom. I didn’t even have a chance to shut the door completely before Art’s bedroom door opened. Peeking through the crack, I watched Art fake sleeping until V reached for a lamp. He begged, “No light. My head is killing me.”

  V kissed his forehead then sat right where I had just been. “I was scared shitless for you.”

  He reached out and grabbed her hand. “I’m all good, girl.”

  Then a large body stepped into the room and stood at the edge of Art’s bed. The back of his T-shirt read Team 69.

  What the fuck does that mean?

  “Sorry, man. As you know, my wife can be quite persistent.”

  Tucker!

  It was so hard not to swing the door open and hug the bastard. Wait. Holy shit! Wife? Damn. I was right. I smiled because every time I had asked Tuck if he was into V, he denied it. Always. Mentally messaging him, like he could hear my thoughts, I thought, “you fucking had it bad for V.” I should’ve been petrified about being seen, but when I saw Viola fighting tears and getting up, wrapping her arm around my old best friend, leaning into that big fucker like he was her dream come true, I was so happy for them both. Well, ain’t that some shit? Hell of a job, Team 69.

  I stayed in Art’s room, never far from my guns and ready to battle, but no fight ever came to the club. A week later, one night when Dagger delivered some food for Art and me, I asked, “Still no word?” I was sitting next to Art in bed, leaning against his headboard because we had been watching yet another damn movie.

  “No. Makes no sense.”

  I chuckled. “I could use some sun. Let’s fake leaving to see if that helps. That way I can get some vitamin D and stop trying to spoon with Art.”

  Art lifted a burger to his mouth. “There ain’t nothing out in that sun that beats some Art action.” He took a bite.

  Preppin’ for a bite of my own burger, I shrugged. “This is very possible.”

  We both started laughing at Dagger’s horrified expression. “What the fuck has been going on in here? You two all snuggly and shit!”

  With Saint on his heals, Diesel came in, smiling. He seemed shocked to see his son was laughing again. “What am I missing?”

  Dagger snarled. “Art switching sides.”

  Diesel kept smiling, watching his son demolishing his food.

  Saint teased, “Art! One week in bed with Giver is all it took?”

  Art took a swig of juice. “It only took Justice minutes. Give me credit. At least I was a challenge.”

  Groaning at the thought of what was between my wife’s luscious thighs, I begged Diesel, “Set me free. I’ll shoot any fucker within a mile. Just let me out. Justice’s naked pics she’s been sending only make me want the real thing.”

  Laughing, Art choked on his burger while complaining, “He’s been taking three showers a day. Watching movies don’t make no one that dirty.”

  Diesel, still beaming at his son’s smile, laughed. “That’s right! Giver, this is your first true lockdown.”

  Dagger added, “Sucks, don’t it? Every biker knows this is the worst part—”

  When he didn’t talk again, I asked, “What?”

  He smacked his forehead. “Diesel, Giver had a brilliant idea.”

  “I did?”

  Apparently, I did. We let the unknown inside trader sink his own ship. Only a select few knew we were bluffing when Stallions said their goodbyes and rode off. Confident we weren’t facing a retaliation as much as a robbery since this mysterious club was waiting to get inside the Ryder’s clubhouse, Diesel called off the lockdown. That’s how I was able to get out unnoticed.

  On my bike, the sun hitting my face helped me breathe deep again. Seeing Justice’s bike in a field a couple of miles down another abandoned dirt road almost had me wrecking. Prez was leading me straight to her. She was leaning against her HOG, in her vest, like the bad bitch she was. Barely getting my jiffy down, I ran…

  Her smile told me our kids were fine. Her eyes told me she loved me.

  “Babe.” My lips slammed to hers. In between licks of her sensual mouth, I told her, “Jesus Christ you taste so fucking good.” My face dove into her neck to inhale her. “And you smell so much better than Art.”

  She howled laughter. “Damn! I hope the fuck so!”

  “And you sound so good. Cuss some more. Talk dirty to me.”

  “Giver!”

  “Sorry, Prez, but your sister is hot as fuck.”

  He grumbled, “Have some self-control.”

  I pulled back to see Justice. “Why are you here?”

  “The boys said you were a champ with Artist and deserved a reward.”

  I peered over my shoulder to all the smiling faces. “Love you fuckers.”

  My woman added, “Plus, Seth is now dead. That means the babies are safe. My Stallion brothers need me.” Howls of approval echoed into the blue sky. Church Eyes, beaming in the sunlight, had never looked so fucking good. “Let’s teach these new fuckers a lesson.”

  Positive she hadn’t wandered far from Gracie and Ice, I kissed her again then smirked. “I know you, woman. Where are my kids?”

  She winked. “Hidden in a nearby city with Jamie and Elle.”

  “Huh?” perked up Prez, all of sudden looking as hungry as me.

  I laughed at him. “Self-control, right?”

  Saint didn’t look shocked at all as he started pushing his bike into the tall grass of the field. “I’ll thank Elle for watching over Jamie in the airport.”

  We all followed suit as Justice replied, “Elle called and told me Jamie was focused on helping with the kids, so she did really well. Oh, and Jamie loved being in the air.”

  Saint smiled so big. “Man, I wish I had seen that first for her.”

  After getting the bikes hidden, we all plopped our asses down next to them and waited to hear from Diesel. A few hours later, the sun was going down when I got an unexpected text from Art:

  How’s your girl?

  That fucker knew of my surprise! Justice was presently sitting between my legs, leaning her back to my chest. My arms were around her waist, so she smiled when she watched me text:

  She’s beautiful

  I got a monumental reply:

  Can u check on mine?

  My head rested on Justice’s. A week trapped in a room with Artist had us deep in many conversations. He told me about watching over Delilah when I had snapped and searched for her in DC. He told me how close she came to leaving Maverick. He also told me in the end, it was his heart that broke, and he had to let her go. He said he did well until she came home from college…

  When I didn’t respond, he texted:

  She’s pregnant

  Justice gasped. “Holy shit.”

  “What?” asked Dagger and Lynx, both lying on the ground, faces to the darkening sky.

  Over her shoulder, she asked me, “Is it his?”

  “First I’ve heard of it. Not a clue.”

  Not sitting up, Dagger and Lynx both covered their faces with their palms.

  Lynx grumbled, “Why do I feel this is about Art?”

  Dagger mumbled, “And hoping he wore a fucking condom?”

 
Justice told Lynx, “I have to run an errand.”

  “No way,” I corrected her. “You’re not going anywhere without me.”

  She tried, “Bro, I need to do this.”

  Lynx explained… “Denied. Anything else?”

  Justice inhaled… then exhaled. “Lynx, he’s worried about Delilah.”

  Dagger’s arms fell to his sides. “Oh my fucking God.”

  “Jesus.” Lynx exhaled. “If he knocked up—No. He can’t possibly be that stupid.”

  Dagger stared at the forming night. “We need Diesel focused on this fight.”

  Lynx bitched, “I’m never having kids,” then lazily twirled a finger in the air. “Thirty minutes. No cuts. Ride with Giver.”

  “No,” she rushed. “I can go by myself. The snitch doesn’t even know I’m here.”

  “Not fucking happening, babe.”

  Lynx said, “Justice, I’m preparing for a gun battle. Can you not be a pain in my ass right now?”

  Leaning forward, I chuckled and kissed her cheek. “With me or nothin’.”

  “Oh,” my Prez remembered. “Put on your bulletproof vest.”

  We all laughed when Justice grumbled about shoving her vest up certain asses.

  Not wanting Delilah to hear my bike, we parked, then walked through some woods. Maverick had just built her a beautiful house on a private lot, but an old green Ford sat in the driveway. Boxer Boy didn’t seem to be spending his money lavishly. He was still out of town at some boxing match, so Art was worried for her safety since she was always with Viola.

  “You okay?” whispered Justice.

  “Honestly?” I rubbed my stomach. “I feel a little sick.”

  The last time I’d seen her was years earlier in DC. That was the same night I realized my sister was dead. Those memories, plus new memories of burying Jenny, being back in GA to kill men who possibly were involved with killing the mother of my children, just having seen V and Tuck, being trapped in a bedroom for a week with a guy that once wanted me dead, and the guilt that I was about to spy on a girl who was an ex-girlfriend my alter ego had raped, was proving to be a bit much for the fucked up individual I was.

 

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