Into the Blood (Broken Outlaw Series Book 2)

by BT Urruela

  Brandi and I stand curbside at the San Francisco airport waiting for Chase to pick us up. I’m slightly annoyed as we’ve been waiting here for at least a half hour already and Xander was supposed to pick us up initially. He called last minute and mentioned having issues setting up for the concert tonight and that he would send Chase instead. It’s been a week since I’ve seen Xander and I was really hoping he’d be here.

  Brandi and Chase’s house back in Truman Valley finally sold and we had a good time closing out the documents, shipping off the last of our things, and saying goodbye to the old town for good, but it’s my parents’ wedding anniversary today and he knows what that means to me.

  It’s so bittersweet reaching this day each year. It’s a reminder about true love… what it means to nurture it, to care for it, and to see it through. ‘Til death do us part. And that’s where I’m stuck, because it’s hard not to think about the beautiful thing that they had, that they’ll never get to experience again. I look up, my eyes squinting through the overcast sun and I let out a heavy breath. I hope they’re together again somewhere… I truly do. I just don’t know.

  “You alright, babe?” Brandi asks, squeezing my arm.

  “Yeah… just today.”

  “I know.” She gives me another good squeeze as Chase pulls a lifted F-150 up to the curb, the large BAR SEVEN logo sprawled across the black paint in splattered crimson. To this day, it makes me proud as hell to see.

  We open the doors and climb in, and Chase greets us with a tip of his cabbie hat. Brandi settles into the passenger seat and leans in, and he kisses her on the cheek.

  “How was the flight, ladies?” he asks, pulling away from the pick-up area.

  “Not bad,” Brandi says. “There was a crying baby next to us. As friggin’ always. Like c’mon people, if the baby’s still shitting its pants, maybe don’t fly. I don’t know,” she jokes, and Chase laughs, shaking his head.

  “Why’d you bring the company truck?” I ask from the back seat, leaning in between them.

  “Just what I had available. I don’t know if Xander told you, but we’re having technical difficulties at the bar with the sound system. He and Jimmy have been caught up with it all day while I’ve been getting the bands settled.”

  “You know this thing is a piece of shit, right? It needs a new battery,” I mention and he just shrugs.

  “Couldn’t take my bike, now could I?” He laughs, glancing at me through the rearview.

  “I guess that’s true,” I mutter, leaning back into the seat, and playing around on my phone to pass the time.

  A few minutes later, I get bored of my phone and look up to see a mess of brake lights ahead of us. I let out a groan.

  “Oh my God, Chase, you took interstate eighty?” I ask, leaning back in and curling a lip in judgment.

  “Yeah, what, you don’t?” he asks and I shake my head.

  “You’re kidding me, right?” I shoot him a glare. “We’ve been here six months, Chase. Only a rookie would take eighty during evening rush hour.”

  He shrugs. “Well, damn, I haven’t really flown much. I didn’t even think about it.”

  “I’m going to kill you,” I say, melting back into the seat as we creep forward ever-so-slowly.

  I grumble under my breath. First off, I hate flying. Second, I hate traffic. Those two combined are like a formula for somebody getting whacked. Chase looks like a good target right about now. Brandi gripes from the front seat, calling every motorist out who passes us, and Chase gleefully hums along to whatever tune is on the radio, which irritates me more and more by the second. Worst of all, Xander won’t answer my damn texts. I know it’s the biggest show we’ve ever hosted tonight, I know his nerves are running high, but he hasn’t really been around much this past week. It worries me that maybe a ‘normal’ us is wearing thin with him.

  We’re finally through God-awful interstate eighty traffic after an hour or so of Brandi’s relentless road rage and Chase singing along to every goddamn song on the radio. Xander finally does respond, but he’s being short, which does nothing to quell my spiked nerves.

  As my impatience reaches its peak, the truck begins to sputter and rock harshly back and forth. Chase looks around, checking the gauges as he pulls the truck to the side of the busy road.

  “Ah shit,” he says and I bury my face in my hands, letting out a groan. The vehicle creeps to a stop, and Chase pops the hood, carefully exiting and making his way to the front.

  “I just want to get home,” I whine and Brandi lets out an exaggerated sigh.

  “You’re telling me. I may just hack his balls off tonight.” I giggle and she looks back, all seriousness in her face. “I’m for real, chick. It’s happening. I’m just trying to decide between a hacksaw and a dull Swiss army knife.”

  I erupt with laughter as Chase creeps back around and hops quickly back into the SUV.

  “It’s fucked,” he says flatly. “Sorry, ladies.” There’s a collective groan, and he shrugs with his palms high. “Well, I didn’t really have many options, now did I?”

  “We have a brand new Range Rover, you dum dum. You and Xander should’ve figured this shit out ahead of time,” Brandi scolds Chase, smacking him lightly upside the head.

  “Look,” Chase says, motioning to the road sign beside us. “We’re two miles from Canyon. Gabi and Shane’s house is out here. I’ll just have them pick us up.” He pulls out his phone and goes to work on it as I go back to scanning my own, Xander’s message up and my mind playing dirty little tricks on me. I don’t want to doubt us. I don’t want to doubt his love for me. But it’s hard when life has let you down time and time again.

  Shane’s Denali pulls up behind us a few minutes later and Chase scoots out of the truck, making his way to the bed and he starts removing our luggage.

  “I guess we should help, huh?” I mutter and Brandi looks at me, her head shaking, and she laughs.

  “I don’t think so. Revenge, bitch.”

  We eventually climb out too and hop into Shane’s SUV as Chase locks up the truck. Gabi’s in the passenger seat and waves as we enter.

  “Hey, guys,” she says with a smile, her bandaged hand resting in her lap.

  “Hey, babe,” I say, giving her a half hug and kissing her cheek. Brandi waves as she scoots into the seat, allowing me to move in for Chase to join us.

  “Thanks, guys,” he says, shutting the door behind him. “I appreciate it.”

  “No worries,” Shane replies from the corner of his mouth as he pulls back onto the highway. “We were just puppy training.”

  “Oh yeah, how is that beautiful pit, by the way?” Brandi asks.

  “She’s a nightmare, but God she’s sweet,” Gabi says, looking back with her foot propped up on the seat and her arms hugging her leg. She looks so good these days, it’s hard to imagine how we found her six months ago.

  “Ate a pair of my shoes last night,” Shane mentions with a chuckle. “You know how it goes.”

  “So, buddy,” Chase says, slapping his hand against Shane’s shoulder. “You ready for this concert tonight?”

  “As ready as I’ll ever be,” he says, shaking his head. “Hard to imagine we’ll be sharing the stage with the likes of Beartooth and I Prevail in a few hours. In our own fucking bar at that.”

  “I’m so pumped,” Chase says, leaning back into the seat and grinning.

  “Can we just get there already, please?” Brandi asks, rolling her eyes and scoffing, but a smile pulling at her lips.

  “Not too much further now,” Shane says, taking the exit for interstate six eighty, which means we are only about ten minutes from Diablo. Ten minutes from the bar. Ten minutes from our new home.

  As we exit the highway and enter the outskirts of Diablo, I can see our bar off in the distance. It’s a massive building, standing alone out among the palm trees. It’s still so unreal to see. I think it’s like that for all of us. We built the bar from the foundation up, the seven of us. We worked tirelessly to m
ake every inch perfect; the world class stage anchoring one end to the wall-length, custom-made bar anchoring the other.

  The outside of the bar is dark, metallic and gritty, and perfect for the rock and roll vibe we were going for. It’s much different than anything else in the quaint town of Diablo. It rises two stories from the desert floor with a basement below. The four-bedroom duplex on the top story is where Brandi, Chase, Xander and I call home. On the inside of the bar, I got free rein, and it allowed me to connect with my mother in a way I haven’t since before she passed. Using all the skills she taught me, I created a feel and tone for the place in memory of her, from the welded sign welcoming all to the Bar Seven, to the monstrous junkyard gargoyles guarding either side of the stage. And my dad… my dad would be so proud of the three hundred or so hand-picked wines I’ve packed the wine cellar in the basement with. It brings a smile to my face just thinking about it.

  As excitement builds and actually getting to the bar seems like a real possibility, police lights flash on behind us.

  “You have got to be fucking kidding me,” I whine, looking back at the patrol car.

  “I’m seriously two seconds from getting out of this car and walking,” Brandi says, sighing.

  The officer shuffles slowly to the driver’s side as Shane lowers the window. “Is there a problem, officer?” he asks in his most polite tone.

  “Yeah, you got a headlight out,” the officer with an impressive potbelly motions to the rear of the vehicle.

  “Really?” Shane asks, looking in the side view mirror and then back at the officer. “Sorry about that.”

  “I’m gonna need your license and registration,” the officer says, aviators shielding his eyes and a smug grin taking up his face.

  Brandi leans toward the front seats and looks out the window at the officer. “You know,” she says, pulling his attention to her. “We’re friends with Sheriff Hoffman.”

  The officer lowers his aviators and looks over them at her. “I don’t give a good goddamn who you’re friends with,” he mutters before straightening his sunglasses, taking Shane’s documents, and shuffling off.

  Brandi looks to me and then to Chase, her mouth wide and lip reared back. “That fat fuck,” she hisses.

  “Babe, please,” Chase says, setting a hand to her shoulder. Her eyes dart to the hand and he slowly brings it back to his side.

  “No, I’m about to kick him in the nuts and run. No way he catches me,” she says, scoffing.

  Shane looks back and smiles. “Yeah, well, he has my information now, so can we please not do that?” he asks, laughing.

  Brandi dramatically sighs, rolling her eyes. “Fiiiiiiiine.”

  After nearly twenty minutes of running information, writing a ticket, and whatever the hell else he was doing, the officer finally returns and hands everything back over to Shane, in addition to a new traffic citation.

  “Now, I’m gonna need you to get that fixed.” His eyes trail to Brandi in the back seat. “And you ought to mind your manners, young lady,” he says before turning and walking off.

  Shane quickly rolls the window up as Brandi says, “I’m seriously going to gut that pig. I don’t even care if this is a new outfit.”

  We finally approach the bar and park right out front. We hop out and as I head toward the rear to get my baggage, Chase waves me off.

  “We’ll get it. No worries. Go find your man,” he says with a grin.

  I shrug and grab Brandi by the arm, and we make our way to the front door. Opening it, I let her go first and then follow in after her, running into her back hard almost immediately as she stops in her tracks.

  “What the f—” I cut myself off as I raise my head and see it, thousands of candles taking up the wide-open bar floor, all lit and creating a pathway to the stage.

  “Oh, my God,” Brandi says, putting her hands to her mouth. “Look,” she says into them. And that’s when I see Xander in a tux and seated on a stool at the center of the stage, his guitar in hand and a wide smile on his face. There are two other stools behind him, and another with a snare drum and high hat further back.

  My legs go numb as he begins to play his acoustic, the sound carrying through the room. It’s a beautiful melody and one I haven’t heard him play before, which is rare when you’re the girlfriend of a musician. He nods for me to come forward, but I don’t know if I can. My feet are locked in place, my heart racing.

  “Go on,” Brandi whispers, nudging me forward. As I take my first step, the doors open behind us, drawing our attention, and we see Rock, Shane and Chase enter, suited up in tuxes now as well and with giddy smiles on their faces. They walk right past us, down the trail among the burning candles, and they take the stairs up onto the stage. Rock sits on the stool in the back, removing drum sticks from his back pocket as Shane and Chase grab a guitar and bass from backstage and take seats on the other two stools. I inch forward as Xander starts to sing, the others begin playing along with him.

  How am I to know

  What this life is for?

  I just do.

  It’s all for you.

  So many times before,

  I’ve crashed along the shore.

  But with you,

  I’m bulletproof.

  More than air is to my lungs, and lyrics to a song.

  I do. I love you.

  More than water is to rain, and pleasure is to pain.

  It’s true.

  The best part of me will always be you.

  I’m all the way to the stage now, just feet from Xander, and I’m trembling. A single tear rolls down his cheek, and catches his smiling lips before he continues singing.

  Storms will come and go.

  And we’ll weather them, you know.

  It’s what we do.

  Just me and you.

  But should I ever go.

  And the dirt becomes my home.

  Honest truth,

  This was all for you.

  More than air is to my lungs, and lyrics to a song.

  I do. I love you.

  More than water is to rain, and pleasure is to pain.

  It’s true.

  The best part of me will always be you.

  He finishes playing, the others continuing behind him as he sets his guitar to the side, his eyes never leaving mine. He walks across the stage and down the stairs, and as he continues toward me my heart pounds in my chest, the blood surging through my veins.

  He stops just in front of me, taking my wrists and pulling my reluctant hands from my mouth. My tears fall freely as he takes my hands into his and drops to a knee. A shaky hand slips inside his coat pocket and back out comes a large diamond ring. I gasp, my heart thumping in my chest, and I can hear Brandi does the same behind me. She fights to keep from squealing.

  “Paige,” Xander says softly, the music playing behind him making it seem like a movie… or a dream. “Since the moment I first saw you I knew it was you. I knew it could only be you and it will only ever be you.” He gulps, his eyes starting to really glisten now. “Will you please make me the happiest man in the world and be my wife?”

  I nod wildly, putting my hand out for him to slide the ring on, and it does so perfectly. I pull him up and he takes me into his arms, holding me tight, as our family applauds and cheers around us. An exhilaration takes over my body completely. I feel almost weightless, my heart so incredibly full.

  I’m going to be Mrs. Xander Evans. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  Three Months Later

  “Can someone tell me why the hell we’re in Missouri?” I ask Rock and Irish as we wait with our bags to be picked up at the St. Louis airport. A week before my wedding and I have absolutely no idea what they have in store for me. “I was really hoping to rid myself of this place.”

  Irish just laughs, shrugging his shoulders. “Sorry, buddy, it wouldn’t be much of a bachelor party if we gave you the details,” he says.

  “I swear to God if we end up with a drug charge and
a dead hooker in the trunk, I’m getting new best friends.”

  Rock laughs as a van pulls up to the curb. I spot Shane driving it with a shit-eating grin as he nearly takes Irish out with it.

  “And you fuckers rented a van? What in the ever-loving fuck are we doing?”

  “Can’t tell the bachelor about the bachelor party,” Shane says, shaking his head as he hops out of the van and makes his way toward us.

  “That’s what I was just telling him,” Irish says, slapping hands with Shane who then does the same with Rock and me.

  “How is everything, bro?” I ask Shane. “I didn’t think you’d be able to make it out.”

  He helps us load up our bags as he lets out a heavy sigh. “Well, I wasn’t going to miss this.”

  I stop him as Irish and Rock pile into the van. “How is she?” I ask. “I mean really? I could ask her, but she’s not going to be as honest with me as she is with you.”

  “You know, Gabi is a strong girl. It sucks we had to end up amputating, but honestly, between her losing a hand and the infection spreading and possibly killing her, I’ll take the former.”

  I nod. “Yeah, me too.” He heads to the driver’s side and gets in as I do the same on the passenger side, and we continue on our journey.

  About three hours of driving south and I’m ready to kill one of them. We are getting ever closer to Truman Valley and I’m a tad worried about being in that place again. If that’s what they have planned. As the sun begins to set, they remain tight lipped.

  Abruptly, Shane turns to the others in the back and yells, “Bag him!”

  With that, a rope is thrown over my shoulders and pulls me into the seat tight, and then a bag is thrown over my head. I struggle for a moment and then stop when I realize I’m not making much headway.

  “What the fuck, guys?” I ask, a bite to my tone.

  “Just relax, grasshopper,” Shane says. “It’s not too much longer.”

  What’s probably only thirty minutes, but what feels like a couple hours, passes, and the van comes to a stop. The hood and rope are removed and I look around a bit, trying to make out our surroundings, but I can’t see anything other than a small dirt road and dense vegetation around us.