OWNED: A Dark Bad Boy Baby Romance (Blood Warriors MC)

by Naomi West

  “How could I screw with you on this?” Tanner asked. “Seriously?”

  Quentin shrugged. “I dunno. You could.”

  “Just give me the goddamn address,” Tanner said in a painfully even voice, his eyes narrowed, “and I'll be on my way.”

  Quentin's eyes narrowed in return.

  Tanner had no qualms about beating the shit out of this guy. What was he going to do? Call the cops? That was a laugh, right there. Guys like this and the Blood Warriors had at least one thing in common: they understood not to get the cops involved. That was just opening the door to a whole mess of trouble no one wanted to deal with.

  “Fine,” Quentin said after a few tense seconds. He spat out the address of the rival flophouse, apartment number and all. “Don't tell 'em where you got that, ya feel me? Don't want no more bikers knocking at my door if they ain't customers.”

  Tanner waved him off. “Believe me, we ain't going there to talk.”

  That got Quentin, the weasel-faced little bastard, to smile.

  Tanner stood up from the table and headed for the front door, satisfied that they had what they needed. At the very least, the skeezy drug dealer's tip was a start. If they couldn't find Brendon there, they'd just have to try something different.

  “Hey,” Quentin said from behind him, “you tell Star for me that it was good seeing her the other day.”

  “Uh,” Tanner said back over his shoulder, stopping in his tracks as he opened the front door. “What?”

  “She's hotter than her momma ever was, and that lady was fucking fine,” he said, drawing out the last word to an excruciating length

  Tanner's world went crimson at his words. He slowly turned back around to face the skeezy dealer. “What did you just say?” he asked as he dropped his hand from the door knob and let it swing open a little.

  “Bet she fucks like crazy, too. Her hot momma always did when her pocket book was empty.” He glanced towards the girl on the couch and waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “All them junkie girls are like that.”

  Tanner's world turn into one of blood-soaked rage at the mention of Star's name. He was across the living room in three steps, the front door swinging ajar behind him. Quentin didn't have time to squeak before Tanner's forearm was across his throat and pushing him back to him against the wall.

  “You keep her name out of your fucking mouth, motherfucker,” Tanner roared as he pressed down on his windpipe.

  Quentin squealed like a pig as he tried to get away.

  Tanner brought up his knee twice, getting him in the stomach and groin. He threw a punch in the same spot, knocking the wind out of him.

  The dealer slid down the wall to the floor, fell over on his side and tried to shield his face. Tanner wasn't done, though.

  He bent down and rolled him over, settled on top of him so his knees pinned Quentin's arms to the ground. He set to, wailing on him with his fists. “Never, ever, ever,” he continued, each word punctuated with a strike to the face, “say her fucking name again.”

  “Tanner!” yelled Blade from behind him as he and Cam came running through the living room and wrapped him up in a full nelson. “What the fuck, man?”

  “I'll fucking kill you,” Tanner roared, flailing one last time as Blade and Cam yanked him bodily from the drug dealer's chest and pulled him to his feet. Blade's arms were locked up in his, immobilizing him. So, he kicked out, clipping Quentin in the side with a big biker boot and sending him flinching away.

  “Mention her again, Quentin. I'll fucking kill you!” They dragged him out of the shithole of a flophouse, his legs flailing as he continued to threaten the dealer.

  “What in the fuck was that shit?” Blade bellowed as they pulled Tanner out into the rain.

  The falling precipitation struck his body, its arrhythmic beat seeming to drag him out of whatever craze he'd been in. He shook his head, clearing the rage. “Sorry, Blade. Sorry.”

  “We wanted to get the fucking address, not beat him to fucking death!” They each grabbed him by an arm and led him back to the pickup. They opened the cab and tossed him inside, with Blade going around to the driver side.

  “I know!” Tanner yelled, “I'm fucking sorry!”

  “Did you at least get it?” Blade yelled as he climbed in.

  “Yeah, yeah, I got it. Sorry, man. I just lost my shit in there.”

  “What was that, anyways?”

  “Nothing. Motherfucker just started popping off at me. Running his fucking mouth about Star.”

  “Well, you gotta learn to control that temper of yours,” Blade grunted as he started up the truck. “Your daddy had the same goddamn problem, and it always got him into trouble, too.”

  “I know,” Tanner said, rubbing the back of his bruised and bloody knuckles, “I know.”

  “'Sides,” Blade said with a wry grin. “thought Star wasn't your ol' lady.”

  “Just . . . lay off, Blade. Let's get over there and find Brendon.”

  # # #

  This apartment was almost as big of a shithole as Quentin's place. Trash littered the ground, cars that were little more than junk heaps filled the parking lot, and paint was peeling off the siding on all the buildings. The complex looked like the kind of place that got two to three 911 calls on a slow night, and five or six on the weekends. Seven, probably, around the holidays when money got tight and husbands started to get punchy with their wives over Christmas spending.

  They'd settled on a plan while the three of them were still packed in Blade's pickup truck. Cam would knock on the door and get them to open up for business. Blade and Tanner would be around the corner and out of sight, waiting for their opportunity. The plan might have been simple, but that just meant it didn't have as many chances to fail.

  At least, the weather had finally cooperated, and the rain had slowed to a dull trickle.

  “I don't like leaving him out in the wind like this,” Blade growled to Tanner.

  “Well,” Tanner said as he peaked around the corner to watch Cam at the apartment's front door, “we all gotta grow up sometime, old man. Besides, you wanted me to take charge, didn't you?”

  Cam was doing his best impression of a nervous college kid looking to score. At least, that's what Tanner hoped the display was. Whether it was an act, or not, Tanner thought he was doing a good job pulling it off. He knocked on the door, giving it a good rap-rap-rap.

  A minute or so later, the door opened, bouncing back against its chain. Cam said something to whoever was just inside, then glanced back towards Tanner and Blade and gave a little nod after it closed.

  “He's in -” Tanner started to say, but was cut off by the front door flying open and two Roaming Wolves bruisers barreling out into the drizzle. “Shit! Cam!”

  Cam spun back around, a wide-eyed look of surprise on his face. He backpedaled as fast as he could, but one of the Wolves swung a wild haymaker and clipped his chin with a fat ham of a fist. The young recruit went down in a jumble on the front walkway as Blade went rushing around the corner with a roar.

  With his own bellowing war cry, Tanner followed after Blade, fists balled as his feet pounded across the wet grass and concrete.

  Blade clashed with the closest biker, taking him down in a football style tackle that sent both men down in a rumble-tumble of fists, leather, and yells.

  Tanner veered towards the other guy, the bigger of the two who was standing over Cam still.

  The Roaming Wolf was a little surprised by the two rival bikers' sudden appearance, it seemed, and had left an unprotected leg outstretched in front of him. His shaggy, bearded head swung in Tanner's direction as the Blood Warriors biker came bounding towards him.

  Tanner kicked out with his heavy boot at the man's unprotected leg, roaring in satisfaction as he felt the man's leg give way.

  The Wolf went down, screaming in agony, and Tanner slashed him to the ground with one, two, three quick strikes to the face. He splayed out in a mess next to Cam's groaning form, his jaw slack and his eyes
closed.

  Tanner reached down and offered Cam a hand up. “You okay, buddy?”

  “Yeah,” Cam said, groggily, as Tanner pulled him to his feet. “Fuckers must've seen me coming from a mile away.”

  “Or, they got tipped off we were coming,” Tanner offered. He swung his head towards Blade, but the old man was already extricating himself from the scrabble on the ground. His Roaming Wolf was subdued, too. “Come on,” Tanner called and went rushing ahead of his MC brothers into the apartment.

  He slammed into the apartment door, throwing it wide, and surveyed the room.

  The place wasn't too different from Quentin's. There was little furniture, no decorations on the walls, and a stench of human body odor and soul-deep depression that hung heavy in the air. A door that seemingly led off to a back bedroom was partially cracked open on one side, and the entryway to the kitchen stood open.

  A familiar looking form lay crumpled on a dirty mattress near the partially opened door. The carpet around him was stained with spilled drinks and pocked with burn marks. Used needles littered the floor.

  “Brendon?” Tanner asked, taking a step closer.

  The figure rolled over. Even beneath the ragged hair and untrimmed beard, the unwashed clothing and wrecked body, that was his brother. He'd deteriorated since the last time Tanner had seen him in the alley by the hardware store. But, still, he'd know Brendon anywhere.

  “Tanner?” his brother croaked through dry, cracked lips. “That you?”

  “It's me, bro,” Tanner said, his voice full of anguish as he crossed over to him. He kicked aside the dirty needles and knelt down beside his brother. He looked behind him, to see if Blade and Cam were coming, but they must have been tied up outside still. “You okay? We're here to take you home.”

  “To see Mom?”

  “Yeah,” Brendon agreed, “to see Mom.”

  The door beside them creaked. He'd thought the place was empty!

  Tanner scrambled up, careful of the needles, and whirled around.

  Standing in the door was a big mountain man of a biker. His eyes were steely, unflinching, and cold with rage. Before Tanner had a chance to react, he swung down with a wooden baseball bat clenched in his hand, hitting him in the shoulder.

  Tanner reeled away, back against the wall, bellowing in shock. Nothing was broken as far as he could tell, so that was good. But still, baseball bats hurt!

  The man bore down on him, swinging for his side.

  Tanner swung up his arm to take the main force of the blow, but was only able to partially block the bat from hitting him in the ribs.

  As Blade and Cam yelled from the front entryway, the Roaming Wolf swung a last time, clipping Tanner near the temple. Lights exploded behind Tanner's eyes and a crushing pain flooded his head.

  Tanner's world went black, and he tumbled into the darkness.

  What felt like moments later, he came to, the world fading back into existence like a cheap movie special effect.

  Cam was hovering over him, slapping his face lightly. “Tanner, buddy? You okay, chief?”

  Tanner had the worst headache he'd ever experienced. Pulsing pain raged through his head. He struggled away from Cam, smacking away the pledge's hand. “I'm fine, I'm fine. You guys catch that big fucker?”

  Cam shook his head. “Sorry, man.”

  “He went out the back,” Blade said, “and over the patio wall as we were coming in.”

  “Who was he?” Cam asked.

  The man's face flashed into his vision, and Tanner shook his head. He knew he should recognize him, but couldn't remember from where. “Dunno. But, we need to get Brendon outta here. Someone might've called the cops with all that fighting.”

  “Agreed,” Blade said as he stooped down beside Tanner's younger brother and gathered him up, putting Brendon's arm around his shoulders. “Let's go.”

  As they stumbled out to Blade's pickup, questions raced through Tanner's mind. There was no love lost between the Roaming Wolves and the Blood Warriors, that was certain. But, the way that man had looked at him, the anger and hate was unreal.

  There was murder in those eyes, a deep and abiding hatred that seemed to consume the world around him. Tanner had never seen so much anger in his life, like the emotion had somehow become almost palpable. Tanner knew, right then, that if Blade and Cam hadn't come into the apartment when they had, that Roaming Wolf would have finished the job right there.

  Tanner helped Blade get Brendon's near deadweight into the rear seat of the pickup. No matter who had walloped him with that baseball bat, he still had Star to get home to.

  She, and a bottle of painkillers, would help him forget.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Star

  The sun had already set behind the horizon long before. Darkness had settled in and, with the cloudy night, a blanket of shadows seemed to settle over the world outside.

  Inside Tanner's childhood home, Star and Tanner's mother sat in front of the TV, watching some reality show that wasn't doing much to catch the younger woman's attention. It wasn't that she thought less of reality television, but the fear of what might be happening to Tanner was driving her up the wall.

  And, top it all off, she was stuck in this box with his mother.

  There wasn't anything wrong with Tova Rainier. Star just knew Tanner's mother didn't like her. The disdain was on her face, in her movements, in the way she looked at her when she thought Star wasn't paying any attention. There was always that attitude of “You're not good enough for my boy.”

  And, now, with just the ticks of the clock on the wall to remind her of the passage of time, she waited. She waited for some sign of him. Waited for a message on her phone, or a call. Not that he'd ever been big on either of those in their short time . . . doing whatever they were doing.

  But, all the while, she was stuck with a woman who didn't care much for her. Hell, she'd hardly said two sentences to Star since she'd gotten there. She'd just plopped down on the couch and turned the TV on like it was no big deal.

  “It doesn't ever get easier,” Tova said after a while, startling Star from her thoughts.

  “What?” Star asked, looking over at the older woman. Tova didn't even bother to return her attention, though. “What do you mean?”

  “Waiting for them to come back from doing something big and manly for their club. Wasn't easy with Logan, their father, and definitely isn't any easier with Tanner.”

  At least Tova was talking to her, even if it was with a dismissive edge to her voice that implied Star wasn't going to be around long enough to get accustomed to the wait. “Do you get used to it at least?” Star asked finally.

  Tova just shook her head. “Nope. But, there's a reason why we love them.”

  “What's that?” Star asked, genuinely curious to hear this old woman's insight on her son, and the men like him.

  “Cause they're men, real ones. They're not some stock trader, or some guy selling insurance. Sure, they probably won't ever be rich, either. But, they'll respect you, and they'll take care of you when you need to be taken care of. They'll fight for what they want, inside the bar or out, when it comes to defending their honor, and they don't take ‘no’ for an answer. Plus, they're simple. You cook 'em food, they'll be happy. You screw their brains out, and they'll be more than just happy.” At the last part, she did turn and grace Star with her attention, but only for a knowing moment.

  “Plus, they've got those sexy bikes of theirs,” Star added.

  Tova turned and rewarded her with a slight, knowing smile for that one.

  Finally, after what had seemed like years, a pickup truck pulled up to the house. As Star heard his voice from outside, she realized she hadn't been breathing freely since he'd left. It was like a weight was coming off her, relieving her and allowing all the anxieties to drift away on the wind.

  She and Tova got up from the couch, as if by some unspoken agreement, and headed into the kitchen to wait for them.

  The brothers came bustl
ing in through the back door, Brendon malnourished and weak as a kitten, and Tanner looking exhausted. Star inhaled and exhaled, her chest loosening as she suddenly felt most of the tension leave the room. Attention was on Brendon, and away from her, thank God.

  “Oh my,” Tova breathed, as she got up from the kitchen table and went to her baby boy.

  “Hey mom,” Brendon slurred out, his voice sounding as dejected as his face looked.

  Star took one look at the poor guy and knew, just knew, that Tova had her work cut out for her. This boy needed some serious detox time. A hot shower was going to be just the start.