The Dirty Dozen: MC Edition

by Kay Maree

  CHAPTER THREE

  Tova

  Someone bashes on my front door, making me jump and breaking my concentration away from the tattoo design I’m working on.

  Sketching is my jam and inking art into skin is my passion—one that I’m damn good at. That’s why clients who want the best ink money can buy always came to Voltage Ink and book with me or Henley.

  “No!” I yell at the door, already knowing that on the other side stands one of my brother’s goons.

  The fist pounds harder, no doubt drawing the attention of my neighbours.

  “Fuck off!” I yell again.

  “Just open the fucking door, Tova.”

  My stomach drops from hearing his voice. Of all people Griz could send, he sent Slade. My teenage girl panties were constantly wet over Kalem Edwards ever since he prospected, and I crushed hard on everything from his broody glower, ‘fuck the world’ swagger and lickable inked skin. I’ve woman’d up since then though, and I never take it easy on a guy who thinks he can win a quick fuck. I don’t drop to my knees for just anyone. Slade, however, I would. Not without making him work for it mind you, but yeah, I would. And because of that, him being here is the worst-case scenario.

  However, unlike all the other pervs at the clubhouse, Slade hardly throws a glance my way, so I’m under no illusion that he’s not interested. In return, I ignore the shit out of him.

  An agitated growl tears from my mouth when his pounding on the door resumes. Storming over and savagely unlinking the chain, I wrench it open.

  “What!”

  That’s the only word I manage. All other air is punched from my lungs at the mere sight of him leaning against my door-frame and glowering at me from under his brows. I’ve a thing for bad boys, and Slade is the epitome of just fuck me already.

  My eyes drop to the bag at his feet, reminding me that I’m angry for him being here.

  “I’m here b-”

  “I know why you’re here, and you can leave.”

  The toe of his leather boot stops the door from slamming in his face.

  “Trust me, Tova, I want to, but Griz-”

  “I know what Griz ordered, and I unorder it.”

  “Stop interrupting me, woman. I’m coming in whether you like it or not.”

  “Well, I don’t,” I sass as he easily pushes past me.

  Je-sus, the tight t-shirt under his leather cut with the Hades patch on the back draws my attention to his inked biceps, and I’d be lying to say my mouth didn’t salivate. What I wouldn’t give to add to that ink…

  Slade spins, catching me off guard. A sly smirk spreads across his lips when my eyes snap back to his face. There’s no way I’m letting him get the better of me, especially not in my own place.

  “I was in the middle of masturbating, so you need to leave.”

  Slade’s smirk increases to a shit-eating grin as he steps into my space. “Really?”

  “Really,” I snap, frustrated that his scent has me a little breathless.

  He reaches for me, at last minute moving his hand to my hair. “You get off on pencils?”

  I snatch the pencil from his pinched fingers and flick him off as I stalk back to my sketch pad. Without looking up, I gesture in the general direction of the couch.

  “Just sit over there and try not to breathe.”

  His rumbling chuckle makes my jaw clench. “Whatcha drawin’?”

  “Gah! Seriously, Slade! Back. Off!” I glare so hard I’m sure he’s about to back down, but he does something that throws me completely. He takes another step into my personal space and flicks through my sketch pad like I’d asked for his opinion.

  “Fuck, these are good, Tova. I’d let you ink me anytime. Design one for me.”

  I scoff. “As if there’s still a place left to ink on your body.”

  His grey eyes hit mine and darken a shade. “I'll leave that to your imagination, little bird.”

  I shudder. I hate birds.

  Don’t react, don’t react, don’t you fucking dare give him the satisfaction of reacting.

  “Would you?”

  I jolt. “What?”

  Slade finally gives me some breathing space. “Design my next ink?”

  “One condition.”

  He raises his brows and folds his arms across his chest, waiting for my ultimatum.

  “Leave, right now.”

  I’m sure I catch fleeting disappointment bolt through his eyes. It takes less than a second for him to pull himself together and turn on the bad boy demeanour again.

  “Like I said, I’m stayin’ whether you like it or not. Boss’ orders.”

  “The boss can get fucked.”

  Slade scoffs and settles on the couch with his hands linked behind his head, giving me full view of the coloured underside of his arms.

  “I’ll let you give Griz the memo,” he drawls.

  I ignore him and go back to my work, only now I can’t concentrate for the life of me.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Slade

  Jesus Christ, I’ve got my work cut out for me. I hadn’t even set sight on Tova before she started spitting daggers at me. To be honest, I didn’t expect anything less; Tova is no pushover. I’ve seen and heard enough of her over the past thirteen years to know that she is a stubborn bitch, and despite denying it, would do anything for her brother. Regardless of her attitude, I was staying put.

  Once she starts drawing again, I watch her from the corner of my eye and can’t help but grin. She’s huffing and muttering loud enough for me to hear her cursing me all names under the sun. Ain’t nothin’ I haven’t heard before; same words, different woman.

  Unlike every other woman I’ve been with, Tova is a tough nut to figure out. She intrigues me and makes me want to know what makes her tick. Likewise, I want her to see that I’m not just some tattooed biker prick who doesn’t give a shit. Ironically, most of the time I didn’t, but that was beside the point.

  The fuck? “Did you just growl at me?” I snap.

  She doesn’t look up. “Stop goddamn talking, Slade, or I swear to God I’ll bottle you.”

  A long and rough chuckle rolls out of me. Riling her up is damn entertaining.

  I get to my feet and slowly stalk about the open living, dining and kitchen area before stopping at the other side of the kitchen bench to where she’s working. For a woman who’s covered in tats, her place is surprisingly subdued; the decor is either white or varying shades of grey, and the artwork on the walls is a similar style to what she’s sketching.

  “Look, I know you sai-”

  Tova slams her pencil onto the stone benchtop. “Seriously, you’re pissing me right off and I’m about to lose my fucking rag. I’m glad Henley does your ink because I cannot tolerate your arse.”

  I’m a guy who can handle a lot, but once my patience is exceeded, I don’t hold back.

  “Dammit, Tova! Sit your arse down and hear me out,” I shout.

  Her eyes slam into slits and she’s about to interrupt me again.

  “I said fucking listen!” I jab a finger at her, “and if you don’t, I’ll tape your trap shut.”

  That does it; she presses her lips together tight and glares at me. I know she’s not used to being put in her place, but I’m not going to stand for anymore of her shit. I’m here on orders, and whether she likes it or not, Tova was now my responsibility. My arse is on the line if anyone so much as touches a single piece of dark hair on her head.

  Her wide green eyes hold my stare, unwavering and unblinking. I can’t so much as breathe during the beats that pass between us before she shivers and blinks quickly, breaking whatever the fuck that was.

  When Tova pulls her shoulders back and sits up straight on the bar stool, I will my eyes to not drop to her tits. They do anyway and I can’t help but dart my tongue over my bottom lip. Fuck.

  She crosses her inked arms across her chest and raises a dark brow. She’s a walking canva
s—one that I suddenly want a taste of. My dick takes notice too, warming in response to those thoughts.

  Realising that I’m still staring, I draw myself to full height and give it to her straight. “I can assure you that I don’t want to be here any more than you don’t want me to be.” She interrupts with a snort. “But, when I give my word to Griz to keep you safe, that’s what I’m gonna do.”

  “Why did you volunteer?” Tova challenges, her jaw set firm.

  I splay my hands on the stone benchtop and lean towards her. “I didn’t. In fact, every motherfucker without an old lady volunteered to keep an eye on your arse, apart from me.”

  Offense dashes through her features before her glare hardens. “And that’s why Griz made you do it.”

  “Asked me.” I nod. “So, let’s make this fucked up situation work for both of us-”

  “We’re not fucking,” Tova interrupts and I swear to God I’m about to implode.

  I growl the rest of my sentence, leaving no room for argument. “…while the club catches whoever is topping women left, right and centre since the pigs ain’t doin’ shit. Gimme a key, show me the spare room, and don’t leave the apartment alone.”

  Tova turns her back. “Slade…”

  My name sounds so sweet coming out as a breathy sigh. With decision, she rounds the bench and only halts when her chest almost contacts mine. She’s eye level with my chin and looking up at me from under thick dark lashes.

  “I’m not easy to live with.”

  “You think I’m not already aware of that?” I scoff.

  Tova’s smile crinkles the corners of her eyes and gives me a quick glimpse of her straight teeth. Her lips relax and part ever so slightly as she rose onto tiptoes. Her breath fans over my neck and ghosts across my mouth, so close I’m positive she’s going to land one on me. Instead…

  “Just stay out of my way and I might go easy on you.”

  Before she pulls back, my arm snaps out on its own accord and grabs her waist. The tight black jeans and singlet top she wears leave no curve to the imagination, and her body feels as toned under my fingertips as it looks.

  Fuck. Touching her was a colossal mistake. My fingers dig deeper when I realise how my body reacts to hers, and I force words past my lips that need to be said.

  “I don’t play games, Tove. Cut the shit and drop the bitch act.”

  She returns my glare and steps from my space with a low, sinister laugh.

  “It’s not an act.” She points into the living room. “You can sleep on the couch.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Tova

  Millimetres. Mere millimetres were all that separated us, and if Slade licked his lips one more goddamn time, I would have kissed him like my body ached to do.

  I didn’t intend to toy with him so much; it just happened, and now I’m left both frustrated and confused. For years I thought he hadn’t seen me. But now, with what I could feel between us, I wasn’t so sure.

  I step out of his space before his tight grip can pull me closer—before I make a fool of myself. Tova Costello is no man’s fool.

  Slade’s gaze drops to my mouth and lingers. “I don’t play games, Tove. Cut the shit and drop the bitch act.”

  I can’t help but snigger. He has no fucking clue. I was raised tough—he knew that part—and due to my upbringing, my attitude is as real as they come.

  “It’s not an act.” I wave a hand in the general direction of the living space. “You can sleep on the couch.”

  “Like fuck I’m sleeping on the couch,” Slade booms, following me into my room. “Where’s the spare room?”

  “I just showed you.”

  “Bullshit. What’s in here, then?” he demands and pushes open the only door in my apartment I keep closed.

  He stops short and gapes, uttering a curse as his eyes snap around the room. “What the hell is this?”

  I do a silent annoyed dance behind his back then follow him into the area that no-one is allowed to set foot in apart from me and Griz. The door self-closes behind us and Slade angles his body towards me without taking his eyes off the side wall.

  “You’ve got some explaining to do, little bird.”

  “I’m not a goddamn bird, and not to you I don’t.”

  “Does Griz-?”

  “He knows.”

  Slade growls when I cut him off. This is becoming a common theme for us and I wouldn’t be surprised if it provokes him into cussing me out again.

  “How long have you been collecting intelligence?”

  I sigh and step over to where he’s studying the pin-board. If Griz didn’t trust Slade knowing about this, he never would have sent him over in the first place.

  I look at the pictures of rival gang members, corrupt cops, dead men and women, all displayed before us. Coloured string links connected subjects and snippets of gathered information. It’s a web of deceit, and it shows exactly where dirty deals are made and broken. The network before us has been established for years—long before I got involved with collating it. Griz needed someone he could trust without a doubt, and when Dad passed, that person became me. Where I said sketching and inking were my jams, this was my fucking kryptonite. I lived and breathed for this shit. I needed excitement, thrill, suspense and the satisfaction when another link was made. From what we knew so far, there was a guy known as ‘the Puppeteer’ and he had all walks of people in his back pocket. Politians, police, gangs, hitmen, lawyers, accountants, morticians; any occupation you could think of was bound to have a man or woman on the Puppeteer’s payroll. So far, the Puppeteer was still unknown. That was the major goal of this entire mission; take out the top and the rest will fall.

  As far as I could tell, the murders within my apartment block weren’t linked to this network. Time would tell. Griz and the Hades Horsemen were all over it now so it wouldn’t be long before the arsehole was caught.

  I snap from my musings to see Slade glaring at me, waiting for more information. His arms are crossed over his broad chest and my eyes land on the name inked in script along the length of his forearm.

  Mariposa.

  Everyone knew Slade came from a broken family and ended up in foster care before his teens. It was common gossip that he had lost the one family member he had been closest to. Mariposa. His younger sister. I didn’t know the ins and outs of the story, but word was his mother left after Mariposa’s death and his father couldn’t handle raising his son, so had turned him over to the government and never looked back.

  Slade’s movements hide the script from view, drawing my attention back to his scowl. His grey eyes harden and his jaw becomes tense. An uncommon pang of sadness touches my steeled heart. Everyone has their reasons for turning to a club, and the details for Slade’s reasons are firmly locked within his soul.

  “Three years,” I croak then clear my throat. “I’ve been on intel for the last three years, ever since Dad died. There’s been major headway in the last year, but we may still be a few away from bringing the ring down.”

  I see Slade processing that information. He leans over the desk in front of him and takes a closer look at the rival gang members mugshots.

  “This have something to do with our boundaries being pushed by the Lucifer’s Guild?”

  I shrug despite not being in his direct sight. “Not sure. There’s always potential for a distant link, flow on effect and all that shit, but right off the bat, my answer is no.”

  “Well, Tova Costello, aren’t you full of surprises.”

  Slade only needs to take a small step to encroach into my space, and that’s exactly what he does, smirk included.

  “You’re still sleeping on the couch,” I deadpan.

  Spinning on my heel, I hold the door open and gesture for him to get the fuck out.

  He pauses within my space again and brings his head close to mine. “I’m going out for a cig. If you’re not here when I get back, there’ll be hell to pay.”


  I simply raise my brows and stare him down. His intimidation tactics won’t work on me and he knows it. Slade stalks from the room without another word, and I happily let the door hit me on the arse while I check him out.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Slade

  The nicotine fix does little to calm my nerves; nothing could fully restore my equilibrium except riding my Hog long and hard. That sort of adrenaline cures all bullshit, if only for a little while.

  Smoke whirls around my head as I lean against the brick wall at my back and run my eyes over her. Fuck she’s sexy. I give her another once over and re-confirm that my Harley is, indeed, the sexiest fucking thing on two wheels. Black. Shiny. Rear wheel wide enough to fuck on. There was no point in owning a V-Rod unless you were going to worship the ever-loving fuck out of her. The only way she would be sexier would be with Tova’s sweet arse nestled behind mine.

  I adjust my stance when my cock’s interest is piqued then take another drag on the Marlboro between my fingers. Griz would have my arse if he knew what I really thought about his little sister.

  I’m still trying to get my head around the room I discovered in her apartment. I’m pissed at Griz for keeping it secret from me, pissed that I had to find out the way I did, and still pissed that I’m even in this situation to begin with.

  I understand that the network is larger than us—than the Hades Horsemen—but I didn’t understand why Tova was involved and I wasn’t. Next time I’m at the club house I’ll hit Griz up about it. I want answers.

  Dropping the butt to the ground and stubbing it with the toe of my boot, I give my Hog a final once over. The two flights of stairs are a goddamn buzzkill and I’m not all that thrilled to find my fitness is severely lacking. Fuck traipsing downstairs every time I needed a nicotine hit!

  I’m breathless by the time I arrive at Tova’s apartment and it’s not just due to the ascend. I know exactly what’s waiting for me behind the closed door, and my gut is telling me I’m in well over my head. My hard knock is answered quickly this time. At least the nosey little dweeb down the hallway won’t have time to stick his head out and glare at me like last time. One return glare was all it took for him to pull his head in and lock the door.