DIRTY ALPHAS

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DIRTY ALPHAS Page 30

by Storm, Franca


  “Fine,” I grit out.

  I hang up and thrust my fist into the brick wall of the pub.

  Fucking hell! What’s Rox playing at, pulling this shit? So much for our damn alliance. She’s going ‘round me. Her giving me all that intel earlier was just to distract me from her plan to take on the Mavs alone. Makes me look like I just got played to Trig. And she’s just pissed all over my chances of tracking down Broker today now I gotta head up there to stop her from fucking everything up. Argh!

  Hell, that ain’t the only reason I’m pissed off. I’m fucking worried ‘bout her. Christ, for the first time ever, I’m worried ‘bout somebody other than one of my brothers. Fear for her is creeping up and I don’t like it. Fear is weakness. I can’t let myself feel it. Better for me to be pissed at her.

  Goddamn it, woman!

  Chapter 14

  ~Roxana~

  I tap my wireless earpiece as I stride through the restaurant of the truck stop off the highway just outside Brockford.

  “What about the east side? You have eyes there?” I ask one of my guys positioned outside.

  “Yeah, Rox. All sides are covered.”

  “Good. Wait for my signal.”

  “Will do.”

  I disconnect and scan the restaurant. When we showed up a half hour ago, the place only had two customers. It’s in the middle of nowhere so that wasn’t a surprise. Only truckers and bikers frequent places like this while they’re on a run. But after I spoke to the owner, he and the patrons got the hell out. All I had to do was mention that the Mavs were planning on passing through and they freaked. Good. I hate collateral damage. It makes me sick to my stomach when innocent bystanders get caught up in the crossfire.

  After getting Neil off my back, I headed out and rallied the boys together and laid out the situation for them. I told them I’m going to war and they could either join me or leave.

  I have no choice.

  The Mavs have now attacked two places under my protection. Every place I look after and that pays me for my services, is supposed to be guaranteed safe. The Mavs pulling what they did sends a message that I’m not doing my job. And that leaves room for them to move in and take over the businesses I protect.

  That’s why I need to take a stand here and retaliate. Show those bastards that this is my city and I’ll fight for it. They can’t walk all over me. I’m not gonna sit back and hope it goes away. I’m not letting Skinner into my city. We’re taking the fight to them.

  A weapon’s shipment is gonna come through here shortly, escorted by four Mavs members. It’s a monthly occurrence. A long haul from the closest docks that are hundreds of miles away. They stop to refuel here and then carry on, circumventing Brockford and heading on through to their clubhouse. It’s big money for them.

  And I’m gonna take it!

  I make my way out of the restaurant.

  As soon as I step outside, someone grabs my shoulders and slams me into the corrugated metal wall. Ouch.

  “What the—?” I start, but stop as soon as I see who it is.

  Neil. He’s glaring at me fiercely and pinning me against the wall.

  He flinches as he hears guns cocking behind him. I look past him to see three of my guys with their TEC-9s trained on him.

  “Call ‘em off,” he snarls.

  “Get your hands off me,” I counter.

  He continues glaring at me, unmoving, for a few more seconds, before releasing me roughly and stepping back.

  “We’re good here. Move back into position,” I tell my guys.

  They nod their heads at me and follow my orders.

  I fix my jacket and demand of Neil, “What the hell are you doing here and why the fuck did you just manhandle me like that?” And why is he wearing a leather jacket now instead of his normal cut? Not gonna lie, it looks incredibly sexy on him.

  “I’m undercover,” he tells me, obviously seeing the curious look on my face.

  Right, the Mavs can’t know a Black Thorns member is here, or it would spark a war, I guess.

  Normally, I would have heard him arriving from miles out with the roar of his bike. But it’s noisy in this area with the railway bridge nearby. Those cargo trains are deafening. It’s why I have my boys positioned on lookout. We’ll see the Mavs approaching before we hear them.

  “You gotta call this off,” he tells me.

  My eyes narrow. “No.”

  “Rox,” he grinds out. He starts pacing up and down, cursing. “Fuck, woman! You got any idea how damn difficult you are? You gotta call this off right the hell now!” He winces and grabs his back during his irate pacing.

  I step towards him. “You’re hurt?”

  “Ain’t nothing.”

  “Then why do you look like you’re in pain?”

  “Just a minor stab wound.”

  “What?” I exclaim, reaching for him to get a look at it.

  He snatches my wrists, stopping me. Holding them between us he tells me, “You’re angry. I get it. The Mavs attacked two of your businesses. But this…what you’re gonna do here…it’s too fucking brazen, Rox. It’s a call to war. Do you get that?”

  I glare up at him heatedly. Who the hell does he think he’s talking to? A stupid little girl? “Yeah, I get that. This is war, Neil.”

  He recoils, releasing my hands. “No,” he says, shaking his head.

  “Yes. Now, get out of here. Me and my boys have this under control. It’s not your business.”

  His eyes flash with fire then and he shoves me back against the wall. “Ain’t my business?” he roars, furiously. “You’re my business, woman! You think blowing me off this morning means you’re free and clear of me? You’re mine, Rox!”

  “The hell I am!” How dare he? “It was just sex.” Even as I say the words, I know they’re not true.

  “Like fuck it was. I was there, Rox.”

  Shit. I push against him. “Look, it doesn’t matter. I don’t have time for this. Later.”

  “Yeah, you do got time, cuz you’re calling this off,” he says, shaking me roughly. “I’ll fuck you into submission right here and now in front of everyone if you don’t back the fuck down,” he threatens. “The only fucking time you ever let go of your obsession with control,” he mutters.

  “Different approach than the one I was gonna use, but I’m down for that,” someone says.

  My eyes leave Neil and I see a guy I don’t recognize standing behind him. A fearsome looking guy with a nasty scar around his left eye and a tattoo of an eagle’s wing snaking up his neck, almost all the way to his shaved head. He’s a big guy like Neil, maybe just a tad shorter. Stockier. He’s wearing an unmarked leather jacket like Neil, black jeans and a ribbed white t-shirt. A couple of thick gold chains hang over the top of it. His fingers are decorated with rings—one on every finger and thumb. And, let’s not forget the motorcycle boots.

  Neil releases me and turns around. “Smiter. Hey, brother,” he says, slapping him on the shoulder when he’s close enough.

  Smiter smiles and lifts his chin at me and asks Neil, “This her?”

  “Yeah,” Neil answers in a frustrated breath as he turns back to me. The two of them stare at me in silence for a moment.

  “This can’t happen, sweetheart,” Smiter tells me, gesturing behind him at my guys spread out around the area.

  “Look, I already—”

  “They got eyes on you,” he announces, cutting me off.

  “What?” Neil and I exclaim in unison.

  He tells us, “Got the intel on my way up here.”

  “They know I’m here right now?” I ask.

  “Yep.”

  “Call it off. Now, Rox,” Neil orders me. “Unless you want a bloodbath on your hands.”

  This time I’m not arguing. I can’t put my guys at risk like this. No way. I tap my earpiece that’s on its own frequency with all my guys. “Abort. They know.”

  And that’s when I see them.

  Bikes coming over the hill leading up to the
truck stop. It’s too late!

  “Fuck!” Neil yells.

  Seconds pass, but it feels like everything moves in slow motion as I watch the bikes come over the hill. More than the four that our intel told us about. Ten! And no transport. Yeah, they knew we were coming all right.

  The next thing I see are their guns. TEC-9s like ours.

  They slow their speed and then, in practiced formation, they fire.

  I tap my earpiece, commanding my guys to fire at will to take them down.

  But it’s too late.

  These guys are organized. It’s a setup! An organized hit!

  As I watch my guys go down in a hail of bullets ripping through their bodies, I can hear myself screaming.

  “Get her outta here! Let’s go, Ax!” Smiter yells.

  “Rox, fuck. We gotta go. Now.”

  But I can’t. I can’t leave my men here.

  I pull my gun and fire at one of the bikers circling the area and shooting wildly. The bullet hits the gas tank right on, because I’m an amazing shot. But the asshole manages to skid to a quick stop and get the hell away from his bike before it has the chance to blow him away with it. His eyes lock with mine. He raises his gun.

  But Neil shoots first, firing a bullet into the guy’s temple.

  I hear Neil roar in pain a few seconds later. I don’t get the chance to figure out why as, in the next second, strong arms wrap around me, driving me to the floor.

  Neil lies on top of me, shielding me with his massive body, almost crushing me beneath him. A split second later, gunfire rips through the restaurant windows behind us. Exploding glass rains down on us.

  Neil calls to Smiter who’s on the ground next to us. I watch the two of them exchange some signals that I don’t recognize. Club stuff, I guess.

  Smiter nods and braces himself on his hands.

  And then Neil whispers in my ear. “Your guys are gone. We gotta move. Follow Smiter. I’ll bring up the rear.”

  “Okay.”

  Smiter makes a break for it, smashing through the restaurant door. I follow after him and feel Neil at my back as gunfire rains down around us.

  Smiter leads the way through the restaurant, behind the counter and through to the kitchen in the back. All three of us burst out of the back door where I see Neil’s Harley and another Harley that I assume is Smiter’s parked there.

  Smiter asks Neil a question that I don’t hear. Neil turns to me. “Babe, where’s your bike?”

  “Back home. I came here in one of the guy’s cars.”

  “Okay. Best route outta here?”

  He means a route out of the Mavs’ line of sight.

  I give them the directions.

  And then Neil hands me his helmet. It’s then that I notice the hole in the arm of his jacket and the blood trickling down the leather.

  “You’re shot!”

  I reach for him, but he tells me, “No time, babe.” He slides his helmet onto my head and then he grabs me and puts me on the back of his bike. I wrap my arms around his waist.

  The next thing I know, we’re roaring away with Smiter following our lead.

  Chapter 15

  ~Ax~

  “Didn’t even get to fire my fucking gun,” Smiter gripes from my right side.

  I’m sitting backwards on one of Rox’s kitchen chairs, my arms crossed over the high back as Smiter stitches up my right shoulder. Sweat’s pouring from me after it took him fucking forever to extract the damn bullet. Fucking thing went deep. Jesus Christ. Thankfully, the worst is over and he’s just stitching it up now.

  “You sick fuck. Too damn trigger happy,” I tell him.

  He pulls hard then with one of the stitches and I hiss at him. Dickhead.

  “Your bitch and me got that in common then. You see her tryin’ to take ‘em out? Damn.”

  “Don’t call her that,” I snap, before I even know what the hell I’m saying.

  He laughs, but don’t say no more as he focuses on finishing up the stitches. After a few more minutes, he pats the wound, making me grunt and tells me, “You’re good. Stab wound in your back don’t need stitches. It’ll be fine. Arm’s gonna hurt like a bitch for a while though.”

  I climb off the chair and reach for my t-shirt. I wince at the tightness in my arm. “Thanks.”

  He nods. His eyes stray to my chest. The scar. I see the distress on his face as he looks at it. “Long time ago, Smiter,” I tell him as I pull my t-shirt on and then grab my jacket and shrug it back on too.

  “I tried to stop it. Me and Runner. Told Broker you were a special case. Told him you’d be back eventually so it weren’t like you were really leaving the club for good.”

  But I was. They don’t need to know that, though. Wouldn’t accept me being back now if they did.

  “I know. My fault. I knew the rules. Shoulda never tried to walk with it. Shoulda got it lasered off or covered up. Forget it.”

  “Broker convinced Prez to let him do it just to make you suffer.”

  “Yeah, well. Didn’t give him the satisfaction. Never heard a sound from me when he was cutting into me like that. Sick fuck.”

  “I know, man. I’m sorry.”

  “Just forget it.”

  He nods. An awkward silence falls between us ‘til he asks, “You gonna tattoo over it?”

  I shrug my shoulders. “Maybe. Gotta heal right though, so we’ll see.”

  He sighs heavily and pulls out a chair at the kitchen table, taking a seat. “That was some fucked up shit earlier. All her guys massacred like that.”

  “Nothing we ain’t seen before.” It’s cold, yeah. But true.

  “Can’t say the same for her, Ax. You might wanna…you know…talk to her?”

  Rox ain’t said a word since we left that hellhole behind. Apart from telling us to head back to her place, cuz it was secure, she’s been dead silent for the last two hours we been here. And she’s been holed up in the bathroom. The shower stopped running after the first half hour and it’s been silent ever since.

  “She’s in shock. Needs time right now.”

  “Yeah.” He smirks then. “Guess you know your woman better than I do.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “I heard you, don’t forget. Claiming her outside that diner.”

  I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Yeah, well. Drop it for now. We got business to sort. We followed Prez’s orders. Kept her alive. Didn’t get spotted. But now those assholes will come here…for her. Tryin’ to take out their shipment—a mother lode like that—it’s a death sentence.”

  “From Prez’s point of view, don’t matter if they kill her now, Ax. All her boys are buried. Her power here is gone, right?”

  “No. She pulls the strings here. Owns big business, the cops, probably the goddamn mayor too. Don’t matter ‘bout the loss of muscle. She’s still got the power.”

  “Yeah? All right, I hear you. Good. That’ll make it easier to protect her, having club backing and shit. You know what I wanna do, what most of the boys wanna do too. Move in here and take the Mavs out before they take this territory. But Prez is getting soft and he won’t go to war.”

  He’s right. It’s become clear after all this shit the last few days. “Me killing Skinner ain’t gonna cut it. Not with Broker as their new VP. I kill Skinner and he’ll take his place. A guy just fucking like him.”

  He eyes me with suspicion. “Broker cross you?”

  “He and Bulldozer are here. Broker and some of his boys shot at me and Rox, ripped apart my motel room. Warning from Skinner ‘bout Thorns being here.”

  He shoots to his feet. “What?”

  “Yeah, man.”

  “And Trig still won’t go to war?”

  “He don’t know.”

  “Come again?”

  “I didn’t want him calling me in. I wanted to go after Broker on my own. Deal with that fuck once and for all. But now…with the shit we just dealt with…they’ll go to ground.”

  “Cuz of your girl.”

 
“Yeah,” I mutter.

  Smiter blows out a breath, as frustrated as me that Broker could’ve been buried in the ground today if I’d been able to go ahead and track him down with the intel those idiots I’d beat on had given me. If Rox hadn’t pulled the shit she had. Well, not as frustrated as me. Nobody else could be. Nobody else had their own mother murdered, cuz of that fucker.

  “There’ll be another shot to avenge Kim, Ax.”

  I hold up my hand. “Don’t.”

  He breaks eye contact. But he can’t let it go. “Fuck, I’m sorry, Ax. She’d still be here if I hadn’t—he was VP—his orders—I didn’t know what he was really tryin’ to do.”

  “Not now,” I snap. I can’t get into that shit. Not what Broker did and sure as hell not how Smiter unwittingly betrayed me that day when Skinner and Broker’d taken her from me. Things have been strained between us ever since. After Runner, he was the closest brother to me, but now…that distance is there. Shit will never be the same. All cuz of that manipulative fuck, Broker.

  Sudden, violent pounding on the door interrupts the awkward shit between us. Thank fuck.

  “Who the hell’s that?” I mutter, stalking outta the kitchen, through the living room to the front door of Rox’s house. Smiter follows after me.

  My hand brushing my holster, I haul open the door.

  I recognize the guy from the files we got on him. Rox’s partner, Ralph. He’s standing on the doorstep looking pissed as hell.

  He glares at me and I step back to let him in, kicking the door shut behind him. “Where is she?” he demands.

  My protective instincts kick in and I tell him, “In no state to deal with whatever crawled up your ass.”

  He ignores me, registering Smiter’s presence briefly, before storming further into the house, bellowing, “Rox! We need to talk! Right now!”

  I hear movement upstairs.

  Seconds later, Rox walks down the stairs. Fuck me. She’s wearing nothing but a black silk robe that barely covers her ass. Her hair’s dripping wet and her eyes are red. She’s been crying.

  As soon as she reaches the lobby, Ralph brushes past me and gets in her face.

  I shove him back. Get away from my girl! “Watch it, asshole.”

 

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