Wet Work: A Dark Bad Boy Romance

by Carmen Faye

  “Are you okay, now, Ms. Tennyson. Should I dispatch another officer?”

  “No. I’m okay now. Thank you.”

  “Very well. Contact us if you see the motorcycle again.”

  “I will, thank you,” I said, but I wasn’t sure she heard me.

  I looked at my phone for a moment, took a deep breath, and dialed Pax’s number.

  Chapter Thirty-three

  I’d called Butch, leaving a detailed message on his voicemail and telling him where I was. I’d been an overnight guest of the Coquille City Police before, and I was again. Normally I didn’t worry about it, but Leah’s safety was on the line now, and the club doubted me.

  I was pacing in my little six by twelve cell when I heard the thump of the lock being opened. “Paxton Park? You’re free to go.”

  I said nothing but nodded my thanks as the officer stepped aside and then escorted me out. I stopped and picked up my personal items, and then they released me into Butch’s custody.

  “You look like you’ve been et by wolf and shit over a cliff,” Butch said as we stepped outside.

  “You got my message?”

  “Yeah. When I first heard it, I thought you were fucking drunk, especially the way you were slurring.”

  “Is Jonas still in the clink?” I asked as I sat down in the club van.

  “No. He was bailed out last night.”

  “Fuck!”

  “Yeah. That’s my fucking fault. I should have moved faster when you called.”

  “Where were you?”

  “I was fucking the old lady, alright? By the time she was done sucking my cock, it was too late to bail you out. How the fuck did you know he wasn’t dead, and how did you find him?”

  “Accident. I was still trying to track Leah down to find out what she knows, and I bumped into him. I told you she didn’t know shit about his death. Fuck, he wasn’t even dead.”

  “Jesus Christ. You are the luckiest bastard I know.”

  I didn’t feel very lucky. “Have you contacted the Aviators?”

  “Yeah. We have a meet later this afternoon. I want you to be there, but first, I want to know everything.”

  Butch would never admit he was wrong, or apologize, but the fact he’d included me when talking to the Aviators said a lot. We rode in silence as Butch drove us back to the clubhouse. I tried to check my phone but it was smashed—the screen cracked with rainbow lines. It would come on, but nothing worked so I turned it off. That was something I was going to have to replace as soon as possible.

  We pulled into the clubhouse. My bike was already there, and the key was in my pocket. Butch led me inside.

  “Okay, you assholes! Listen up while Pax brings us up to speed.” He nodded to me.

  I started with the big news in case anyone hadn’t heard. “Jonas is alive.” I then gave them the rundown on everything I’d learned from him. Most of this information was new because, in my phone message to Butch, I’d only given him the highlights of how Jonas was alive and had killed the other brothers, and some Aviators, to start a war.

  When I’d finished, my brothers stood in stunned silence.

  “That motherfucking douche waffle,” Butch muttered. “I always knew he was an ambitious shit eater, but to go out and start his own club without our permission, and kill brothers too? He’s going to fucking regret fucking with us. I’m going to cut his cock off and shove it so far up his ass it comes out his fucking mouth.”

  The rest of my brothers rumbled in agreement, and Butch glanced at his phone. “We’ve got two hours before we meet the fucking Aviators. Pax, go home and get cleaned up. You still look like shit.” He handed me my jacket. “And you’re not wearing your colors.”

  I took the jacket from him and slipped it on. I didn’t have on a shirt, but it didn’t matter. The jacket is what defined me. I nodded, and he slapped me on the shoulder. It hurt like a bitch, but I didn’t care. I walked out of the clubhouse and mounted up. Home for a shower and clothes, then phone, then back to the clubhouse.

  I rode through town, my jacket flapping in the wind. Things were finally beginning to go my way, but I wasn’t happy. I was back in the good graces of the club, and perhaps we could avert a war that nobody wanted, but I still hadn’t found Leah, and I needed to. I ground my teeth together. I should just let her go. Having her get as far away from me as possible was the best thing she could do. She didn’t need a man like me in her life. The problem was, I wanted her. She had touched something inside of me with her innocent ways and her struggle to put her past behind her.

  I knew about that struggle. I’d tried to put my past behind me as well. I thought I had—that I’d finally found a family with the Venom Chasers. I thought they’d give me what my foster parents never could. I’d had to fight and scrape and go it alone my entire life until the Chasers had accepted me. But I realized now that I was nothing but a tool, that’s all I ever was, and that’s all any of us were. Tools to be used for the betterment of the club. But that wasn’t enough for me anymore. I wanted to be more than a tool. I wanted someone to care, someone that wanted me.

  Leah was like that. She wanted me, until she didn’t—until she’d found out the type of guy I was. But I wasn’t that guy anymore. Not since the club had doubted my loyalty. The first time I had a problem delivering what they wanted, they’d cast me aside as no longer useful.

  Sure, they were happy now that I’d uncovered a plot to take the club down, but how long would that last. Until the next time, I couldn’t find out something? Well, fuck that! I’d done what I could to call the Chasers off Leah, and I would continue to support the club, but my relationship with the club had changed. The brothers didn’t have my back, not the way I thought they did, and nothing would ever be the same.

  I backed the bike into my apartment complex, still chewing over the bitterness of how I’d been treated. I frowned. There was a red Ford sitting in my spot. I’d seen the car before, but I couldn’t remember where. I pulled the bike in and parked it behind the car, blocking it in. I didn’t know whom the fucker was, but if they tried to leave before I did, they were going to have a bad, fucking day.

  The annoyance of the car being in my spot only compounded my bad mood. I didn’t have time to go knocking on doors to find the fucker, but if he came to me to get his car out, he was fucked. I was still sore from Jonas trying to kick my ass, but I was more than a match for a pussy that drove a Fusion.

  I stopped as my door came into view. Leah looked at me, but she didn’t smile or stand up. She only stared at me like a dog waiting to be kicked by his master. My heart thudded in my chest at her empty-eyed stare. Had the Chasers already found her? If Butch had carried through on his threat, I would kill him. I would kill any man that touched her.

  “Leah! Are you okay?” I asked as I took her hand and pulled her to her feet.

  “I had nowhere else to go. You didn’t answer your phone.” She’d spoken softly as if she were collapsing in on herself, her spirit being crushed under the weight of her problems.

  “It’s broken. What’s happened? What’s wrong with you?” I unlocked the door and gently pulled her inside.

  “Someone was following me. It’s death.”

  “Death?” I asked, trying to get my head around what she was saying. “What do you mean, death?”

  “Death. The grim reaper. He follows me everywhere. He killed my father, then that man in the ocean, then the others. Now he’s following me.” She looked at me, her eyes pleading, but I didn’t know what she was talking about.

  “Following you? How?”

  “Today, he was waiting at my house on a motorcycle. The police chased him away, but he’ll find me again.”

  I let out a breath of relief then pulled her into a hug. “You’re just confused,” I said. “That’s just my club looking…” I began, but then trailed off when I realized that didn’t make sense either. I’d called Butch last night and left the news. “You said it was today?”

  She nodded but didn�
��t say anything, her arms tight around me.

  “Fuck,” I muttered. The man at her house wasn’t one of us. “It’s okay,” I whispered, holding her tight. “There’s a lot going on right now, and you’ve gotten caught up in the middle of it.”

  “I don’t know what to do. I feel like everywhere I turn, death is waiting for me.”

  I shushed her. “No. None of this has anything to do with you. But you’re not in danger anymore.”

  “I am,” she said, her voice so weak it broke my heart. She was carrying so much pain, and I was only adding to it.

  I pushed her gently back. “No. I’ll protect you, okay?”

  For the first time since I saw her sitting on the step leading up to my apartment, I saw a spark of hope. “How?”

  I knew she wouldn’t want to hear it, but she had to before she could understand what was going on. “The dead body you found. That—” she began to shake her head frantically. I grabbed her head and held it still. “Listen to me!” I ordered, my voice harsh. “That man was killed. He was murdered, you understand? He was murdered and dumped in the ocean so we’d find it.” I stared at her wide eyes. “It has nothing to do with you!”

  “But my Dad!”

  “It was an accident, Leah. You didn’t cause it. Had you been there, you might not have even been able to prevent it.” I released her face and grabbed her shoulder, giving it a gentle shake. “You need to snap out of this. Listen to me. Nothing that has happened to you since you found the body has anything to do with you. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Do you understand what I’m saying? That body was placed there so it would be found.” I didn’t know if what I said was strictly true, but it was close enough. Jonas murdered someone to provide a body to cover his tracks and start a war.

  “But the man…?” she whispered.

  “He’s just a man. Someone that’s looking for you. I don’t know why. But you can stay here until we sort it out.”

  She nodded. “You’ll stay with me?”

  I felt my guts twist. “I will, but I have to go first. I have something to do. It’s for you,” I added as she began to shake her head again. “I have to go talk to some people. There’s a war coming, and I have to try to stop it. It won’t take long then I’ll come back here, and you’ll be safe.”

  “But—”

  “Just stay in the apartment and keep the door locked. Is that your red car downstairs?” She nodded. “Give me the keys,” I said, holding out my hand. “I’ll bring your bags up. You’ll be safe here until I get back.”

  “But then what?” she asked.

  I looked at her. She seemed like she was starting to think again. The talk about death following her and the grim reaper, that was worrisome. If she really believed that, she had bigger problems than finding a dead body.

  “Then we’ll figure out the next step.” She handed me her keys, and I smiled and nodded in acknowledgment. “I’ll be right back.”

  I trotted down the steps and returned with her three bags. I tossed them on my unmade bed. “I have to grab a shower, then I have to go. But I’ll be back, I promise.”

  I pulled her into my arms again, held her for a moment, and then gave her a quick kiss to seal the deal.

  She looked at me, as if seeing me for the first time, and her brow furrowed. “What happened to you?”

  “A fight. The body in the ocean, well, the man I thought it was paid me a visit.” I saw her go pale.

  “How?”

  “He wasn’t dead. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. This has nothing to do with you. You just happened to find the body that I was supposed to find. He’s causing trouble, and you’ve gotten caught in the middle of it.”

  “Why?”

  “Why what? Why was I supposed to find the body? Because I was looking for the man.” I swallowed hard, not wanting to upset her, but I had to reach her. “The body, it was mutilated, wasn’t it?” My tone made the question a statement.

  She stared at me then nodded slowly. “I only saw the face, but yes,” she whispered. “How did you know?”

  I nodded, my lips tight. “It had to be for his plan to work. Do you hear me? This has been one big setup since the very beginning. You just happened to be the one to find the body. Death isn’t following you. You just happened to step into the middle of something you didn’t know about. It wasn’t fate; it was planned. Someone planned this from the beginning. None of us knew anything about it until yesterday.”

  “What?” she asked, her voice becoming stronger. Maybe I was finally reaching her.

  “The man who I thought was dead, Jonas Brandt, was a member of my club. He’s trying to start a war between the Chasers and the Aviators. You remember those two guys that came into the bar that night? Jonas, the man I thought you found, is trying to cause our two clubs to go to war so he could step in and pick up the pieces. He played me, you, everyone. You finding the corpse made a mess of things.” I held up my hand when she started to protest. “I know you didn’t mean too, but by you finding the corpse, you prevented me from finding it. I was there, walking on the beach, when you found it. I saw it all. If I’d found the mutilated body, I would have assumed it was Jonas, and the war would have started. But you finding it, then freaking out, prevented me from discovering if the man was Jonas, or not. That gave us time and forced Jonas’ hand. He killed those other people. He did it to try to force the war.” I paused and watched her face, trying to see if any of what I was telling her was sinking in. “This is all on Jonas. Nothing you did or didn’t do would have changed anything.”

  “And now?” she asked.

  “Now, I have to get cleaned up and try to stop the war.”

  “And you’ll come back here when you’re done?”

  “Straight back here. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  She nodded. “I’ll be here when you get back.”

  Chapter Thirty-four

  I showered in record time. I didn’t have time to allow the water to leach the aches and pains from my body. I threw on the first clothes that came to hand, gave Leah a quick kiss, and then bolted for the door.

  “Lock it behind me,” I ordered as she shut the door. I waited until I heard the bolt snap closed, then turned and trotted down the steps.

  I spent a frustrating hour at the cell phone store, waiting while my phone was replaced; the woman handling my replacement seemed in no hurry despite the fact that I told her I was. Wasn’t that the way of the world? The bigger the hurry you’re in, the more people seemed to take their time.

  The moment my phone was ready, I snatched it up, paid, and bolted from the store. I had ten minutes to make a fifteen-minute ride, and I roared out of the parking on a wave of V-Twin thunder.

  I slammed to a stop in the parking lot of the clubhouse with scant minutes to spare. I didn’t even dismount as the rest of the VCMC were already beginning to mount up.

  “Nice of you to fucking join us,” Butch said, his voice dripping sarcasm.

  “I had to get a new phone, and that took longer than I thought.”

  Butch grunted as he plopped his ass on his Harley and brought the machine to life. We flowed out of the parking lot with me being last in line. It didn’t matter; I had no idea where we were going anyway.

  We rode through town and pulled into the parking lot of an abandoned shopping center on the edge of town. As we rode across the cracked and weed-choked parking lot, I could see twenty or so bikes with rough looking men standing around. With twenty of them and fifteen of us, if shit went south, there was going to be a lot of blood spilled.

  We looped around and parked our bikes. As we dismounted, the Aviators formed a line, and we did the same. We were like two medieval armies lining up for battle. Butch pointed to Gregor and me, flicking his hand to motion us forward with him. It was mostly for show. Gregor was always his right-hand man, and I already knew I was meeting with the Aviators, but Butch was a showman and played his part to the hilt.

  As we start
ed across the parking lot, three Aviators broke away from their group and approached. We stopped about half way between the two rows of bikes, with the Aviators stopping only a couple feet in front of us.

  “What do you want, Butch?” one of the asshole Aviators growled.

  “We have news on who took down your boys.”

  “Are you saying it wasn’t you? Because the rumor on the street says that it was.”

  “It wasn’t us.”

  “Who was it then?”

  “Jonas Brandt.”

  The three aviators looked at each other. “Isn’t he your number two?”

  “Was.”