by Monroe, Evie
It was just like Jet to come up with an idea that involved using women, since he did it regularly. “What do you mean?”
“Well . . . Cullen keeps saying we can’t go in there and fuck with the Fury until we know exactly what we’re up against. But what if she can give us the information we need? How they operate, the location of their clubhouse. She might know. Maybe we can pull it out of her.”
I wasn’t sure I liked the sound of that. “What do you mean by pulling?”
“I’m not saying we beat it out of her, man. Hell, no. What do you think I am? I mean, maybe a little sweet talking, a little gentle persuasion, and she’ll volunteer it to us?”
I clenched my teeth. I didn’t know exactly what Jet would do to get that info from her, but hell, it was better than his first kick her to the curb idea. Actually, Jet was right. If we could get on her good side and get the info, it’d solve most of our problems.
Amazing. When Jet actually took the time to think, he came up with some good ideas.
“I’m coming over,” he said suddenly. I heard him talking in the background, likely to the girls, telling them he had to leave, how he’d really appreciate if they would be gone by the time he got back, and don’t let the door hit you in the ass. Jet, the charmer. “Be there in fifteen.”
“Yeah. I’ll be here.”
Awake. Staring at the wall. Wondering what kind of fresh hell I’d gotten the Cobras into this time.
Chapter Eight
Caitlyn
I rolled over in bed after the most satisfying and deepest sleep ever. My eyes slipped open for a second, and then flew open.
This wasn’t even close to my own bedroom.
Where the hell am I?
I strained to see in the darkness, making out a modern lamp, a white dresser, white sheets. Neat, but it was a distinctively male bedroom, that was for sure.
Shit. Then, it came back to me. Me and Martie, at The Wall. The hot biker dude. The sex. Oh, fuck, the sex. My muscles clenched at the memory. Damn he was big. Sure enough, I was pleasantly sore all over from the sex.
I sat up on my elbows and looked beside me, but the bed was empty. Drake wasn’t there.
What the fuck time was it? I usually didn’t ever have to worry about falling asleep in a strange guy’s bed because I was an extremely light sleeper. I always ended up awake, staring at the ceiling after sex, while my satisfied partner snored noisily. But I guessed Drake the Magnificent had worn me down with the . . . how many orgasms had he given me? I’d lost count.
Shit, he was good. His cock was, quite simply, the best cock I’d ever had. And his moves. His tongue. Even now, I drooled for it.
But I needed to get home. If my daddy got home before I did . . . I’d be fucked.
I cringed, flashing back to the one time I’d been late in high school. I’d had my daddy wrapped around my finger, but it was because I’d been a good girl who didn’t go against the rules. I’d gone to a homecoming party and ended up coming home a half-hour late. I got a slap in the face that drew blood from my nose for that one. It was after he’d found out about the Hell’s Fury guy I’d been fucking. “You’re a little whore like your momma, aren’t you?” he’d hiss at me.
I cringed at the memory of the pain slicing across my face. I’d sat up all night, my mom holding a cold ice pack to the cheek to stop the swelling. She had enough scars of her own to know just how to tend to these wounds. She leaned into me and said, “It’s not that you can’t be a kid. You just have to be smart about it, Caitie.”
I didn’t know what she meant back then. But I gradually learned. I always wondered how my mother managed to live thirty years under my father’s thumb. I soon realized that when the cat was away, the mice played. Luckily, Slade went away a lot. And when he did, we were able to have our fun. We learned to rebel against him in ways he never knew about, always hoping and praying we wouldn’t get caught. Not as much as we’d have liked to, but enough to keep us sane.
So far, we’d done pretty damn well.
Moonlight was still filtering through the blinds, and I didn’t hear any cars passing by outside, so that was a good sign. I slipped out of bed and noticed that my purse was on the dresser. I pulled out my phone and checked the time. It was after three.
Okay, good. If Daddy stayed at the clubhouse overnight, he usually had breakfast there with his men, and I’d be fine. I’d just have to make sure my mom was okay, but I hadn’t gotten any frantic texts, so that was good. Everything was good.
Except . . . where was Drake?
I realized I had one text from Martie. I sat on the edge of the bed and read it, realizing it’d just been sent a few minutes ago: Ugh that was a mistake. Why didn’t you warn me?
I sighed. I tried to. Where are you?
A few seconds later: I have no idea. His apartment, I guess. Can you pick me up?
I typed in: Yes. Give me the address. Then I realized I’d left my car in the parking lot of that dive bar.
Okay. Not a big deal. I could get Drake to take me back to the bar and probably pick her up, drop her home, and get all snug in my bed in North Aveline Bay before the sun came up.
The bathroom was dark, but I saw a small sliver of light under the door to the living room. I fished around in the darkness for my skirt and camisole, slipping them on, sans underwear, thanks to Drake’s little move. I stepped into my boots, noting I’d lost the little band-aid Drake had so expertly applied to my heel. Finger-combing my hair, I tied it up in a messy bun and wiped the sleep out of my eyes as I opened the door.
That was when I heard the voices.
I limped a step, my boots pinching my foot again. Drake was talking to someone else with a low male voice. They stopped speaking as the door creaked. I walked down the short hallway and saw Drake standing there, in jeans, his arms crossed. The guy he’d been with at the bar was there, too. Jeff? Joe? No, Jet.
They both stared at me like I was an alien as I walked into the living room. “Hey,” I said, which came out like a question. Had I done something wrong?
“Hey,” Jet said, his voice a low, sexy kind of hiss. I bet he was used to making women drop their panties, but ha. I wasn’t wearing any.
Jet’s face was wolfish, which worried me, but Drake’s was kind of blank. Unreadable. But the two of them, staring me down together? It was kind of scary.
Then it hit me.
Oh, hell, no. This wasn’t what I was thinking, was it?
“Before you say anything,” I said, taking a step back. “I don’t do threesomes, if that’s what this is all about. I’m strictly a one-man woman.”
Jet laughed at me. “Don’t flatter yourself, girl.”
Okay, asshole. Like it wasn’t him trying to get in my pants a few hours ago on the dance floor.
Then he pushed aside his jacket and I saw the butt of a gun, sticking out from his jeans. It didn’t alarm me right away, because I knew that look very well. I’d been around guns all my life, even as a little girl. Rarely did a Fury guy go walking around without his weapon. But . . . what was an ordinary, motorcycle dude doing with gun? And why was he showing it to me?
Was this a threat?
I balled my fists at my sides. “What is going on?” I said, voice rising as I looked at Drake.
Drake, who looked fucking guilty as hell.
“Nothing,” Jet said, scratching the side of his face. Yeah, right. He said it like it was definitely something. “We just want to talk to you for a second.”
I gathered my courage. “You flashing your gun isn’t going to scare me, if that’s what you’re trying to do. Could you stop playing tough guy and just tell me what this is about?”
Jet let out a short, sour laugh. “It’s about how you’re fucking us.”
“What? Fucking you? How?”
“Hey,” Drake said, holding out his hands. “Jet. Cut it out. Don’t fuck with her.”
He ignored Drake, walked over to the dining table, and sat down, putting his boots up on the chair op
posite him. He patted his gun at his side and smirked at me. I’d thought he was a bit of a prick at the bar earlier that night, but now I really hated him. “So, sweetness. You have anything to tell us?”
“Tell you?” I fisted my hands on my hips. “Like I said, I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. This is getting old. Just tell me and we can clear this up easily.”
He just stared at me. Waiting. Like he was trying to intimidate me.
I rolled my eyes and pointed to the door. “If you’re done, I’ve got to . . .”
He straightened, and his boots hit the ground hard as he rose to his feet. He came up close to me, blocking me from the exit. I took another step back until I was flattened against the wall, his cold eyes never leaving mine. I knew Jet was an asshole, but was Drake just going to stand there and let his happen?
Apparently, yes.
In a heartbeat, Jet reached out, grabbing me around the waist and whirling me around. I was powerless to move as he wrapped me in his one, massive, muscled arm.
“What the fuck!” I shouted as I felt his hands scrabbling behind my back.
As he lifted my camisole, pulling on my skirt, it suddenly dawned on me.
I was sixteen when I’d gotten that tattoo. It’d hurt like a motherfucker, which was why I never got another. I never even wanted it in the first place. It had been my daddy’s idea. He wanted to brand me, to make sure everyone knew I was his kid.
“Fuck,” Jet said, shoving me roughly off of him. He pushed me away so that I nearly went face first into the wall.
I whirled to see him staring at me like I was a piece of shit.
He leaned against the back of the sofa and pulled the gun out of his jeans. “You mind telling us why you have a flame tattoo on your back, sweetheart?”
I swallowed. Why were they looking at me like that? If they were just ordinary bikers who rode on their own, it shouldn’t have meant anything to them. But Fury did have their enemies, a hell of a lot of them.
I decided to play dumb. I shrugged. “What difference does it make? It’s just a tat. It doesn’t mean anything. I like fire. It looks cool.”
He waved the gun at me. “Fuck that. That’s a Hell’s Fury tat. You’re branded Fury property.”
Shit. I sucked in a breath and tried to meet his eyes but ended up looking away. I was fucked if these guys were Fury’s enemies. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Drake, who’d been silent this whole time, opened his mouth, but it wasn’t to defend me. “Cait.” His voice boomed in my ears like a curse. He was angry with me. I’d let him down.
“Even if it is a Fury tat,” I said, steeling myself. “Why do you care? What do you have against them?”
Jet looked over at Drake for a moment, then turned one of his enormous biceps to me. He eased up the sleeve of his black t-shirt over his bicep to reveal an enormous silver cobra, with jaws open, ready to strike. Bile rose in my throat as his cold eyes flashed to mine.
“Everything,” he said.
Chapter Nine
Drake
Her eyes widened as she took in the cobra tattoo on Jet’s arm. She might have been playing dumb before to get herself out of here in one piece. But no one could mistake the look in her eyes.
She knew exactly who we were. She let out a shaky breath.
“So, who are you, doll? One of their hookers? Did your man send you over here to spy on us?” Jet asked.
Her eyes narrowed. “No! No, of course not. This is all an innocent mistake. I didn’t know who you were. You weren’t wearing . . .”
“Like hell,” I said, sliding up onto a stool. “Doesn’t matter what we were wearing. The Wall is Cobra territory. That’s common knowledge. You had to have known that.”
She shook her head. “Honestly, I didn’t. My friend and I just wanted to have some fun. I’d seen the place coming home from work and thought we could check it out.”
“Bullshit!” Jet breathed, stalking across the room. He wagged a finger in her face. “You were fucking spying on us. Who sent you?”
She was shaking her head adamantly and standing strong, but I saw a flash of fear in her eyes. It was more than most girls I knew could have withstood. Pretty and baby-faced though he was, Jet could be scary as fuck when he wanted to be.
Like now.
“Hey, Jet,” I warned. “Ease up.”
He came up close to her and trapped her against the wall, caging her with his arms, bringing the gun up close to her. His voice was a whisper. “You know, sweetness, what we do with spies?”
She didn’t answer.
Most girls would’ve pissed their pants by now.
Jet handled the gun like he was in the wild west, about to engage in a shoot-out. If this was his method of gently persuading her to tell us Fury secrets, we were fucked. It was clear Cait hated him, and I couldn’t blame her. Her voice was tough. “I don’t know. Are you going to kill me?”
He let out an anguished “FUCK!” and punched the wall over her.
“Jet!” I growled. “Enough.”
He was getting a little wound up in his little power trip, and it was starting to bug the shit out of me. Why the fuck had I called him? I knew all along this was how he’d handle things.
He looked back at me for a blink. “What, man? I don’t think we should let her leave.”
“Come on, man,” I said. Jet was in her face, now, so I couldn’t see it, but her legs were covered in goose bumps. “She’s not our prisoner. We can’t keep her here.”
“All right. Take her someplace else. Keep her until we find out just who she is and what she knows.”
She scowled at him. This was turning bad. Enough of this shit. I had to save him from himself, reel him in before he gently persuaded her into kneeing him in the balls.
I went and yanked Jet by the back of his t-shirt, pulling him out of Cait’s face.
“Let’s talk.” I motioned him to the balcony.
He shot daggers at her and pointed the gun in her direction. “You stay right there. We’re not done with you.”
I pulled him outside. “Yeah we are. We’re done. We should let her go.”
“What? You kidding me? She’s Fury. She was sent here to spy on us, and you just want to let her leave?”
I nodded. “Yeah. I’m not keeping her here as a fucking prisoner, Jet. The Fury might be into kidnapping, but we aren’t.”
“But you can’t just let her go. She’s seen too much. Cullen’s not going to let you do that. You have to take her to him and ask him what needs to be done. You let her go without talking to him first and he’ll ream your ass.”
He was probably right. But as I looked over my shoulder and saw her, eying the door, biting her lip, eyes wide . . . she’d had enough of Jet, that was for sure. And I wasn’t about to subject her to any more of his persuasion. “All right. Fine. I’ll ask Cullen to call church as soon as he can, and we’ll discuss it this morning. But don’t be an asshole to her.”
He pointed forcefully into the apartment with his gun. “What the fuck is wrong with you? She’s Fury. Why should you give a shit how I act to the likes of her?”
“Because she’s scared.”
“She ain’t scared.”
“She’s acting tough, but she’s shaking.”
“And that concerns me . . . why? It’s probably a fucking act, anyway. You know all those Fury women are sly little minxes.” He clinched a fist. “Dammit. I knew there was something wrong with her when I laid eyes on her at the bar.”
I nearly snorted. The only thing wrong with her was that she didn’t fall for his charms like every other woman in the country.
His eyes were hard on me. I shook my head. I knew what he was thinking. I was pussy-whipped, after one night. But I wasn’t. I just didn’t have the hard-edge with women that he had. Might have been the Hippocratic oath I’d taken. When I saw someone hurt or in trouble, didn’t matter who they were, I wanted to help.
I crossed my arms. “Jet. Either cool
the fuck down or get out of here.”
“You can’t be serious. You called me over here, dude. And you’re siding with her, even though she’ll rip your fucking heart out and stomp on it the first second she gets. She’s Fury property, dude. She fucks Fury guys.”
I looked over my shoulder at her. I didn’t know why, but I didn’t buy it. “Just promise me you’ll cool the fuck down,” I warned.
His face twisted. “Fine.”
The next time I looked, I had to do a double take. Because the place where she’d been before, leaning against the wall? Empty. She was gone. I moved closer, scanning the room.
We both saw her at the same time, reaching for the door, throwing it open and rushing out.
“Fuck!” Jet made it inside first, launching himself over the coffee table and running for the door. But I’d always been faster. I got around him, went through the door, and grabbed her around her tiny waist, pulling her to me and back into the apartment.
“You can’t go,” I ground out as she wailed and kicked against my shins with the heels of those deadly cowboy boots.
She was kicking so hard that Jet had to subdue her legs. We yanked her back into the apartment, and Jet closed and locked the door. “Now will you believe me that this girl is trouble?”
I glared at him as I held Cait down on the couch, pinning her wrists above her and sitting on her legs. Her eyes were pure fire, and her body thrashed, but she was probably barely a buck-twenty soaking wet. She wasn’t going anywhere as she yelped, “Leave me the fuck alone!”
I turned to Jet. “What the fuck did you expect her to do, with you waving that gun in her face?”
Jet shook his head. “I can’t believe what I’m hearing. You’re taking her side.”
“I’m not taking a side on this. I just don’t think you’re handling it . . .”
“You already fucked her, didn’t you? Why are you acting like you want to get in her pants some more?” He laughed sourly and looked out toward the ocean, then pointed at me. “She’s gonna bring us down, Drake. Count on that.”
I was about three seconds away from losing it with him.