Temperance (Defiance #4)

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Temperance (Defiance #4) Page 5

by Stephanie Tyler


  Declan had been rumored to have pulled through the gate the day before, and he was bunking with Rebel, as per Caspar’s orders.

  And here he was, just hanging out by one of the main spotlights, reading a book.

  Who would know the routes better than one of Keller’s top hitmen? Because even though Caspar and some of the others knew them too, Kev knew he had to become self-sufficient, to prove to Caspar—and Hammer, by extension—that he could do this shit. He was tired of Hammer trying to keep him reined in, although he got it—after seeing how hurt Aimee had been, Kev couldn’t blame his brother for being overly protective.

  “Heard Bishop worked with him over at Keller’s compound,” Carter had said that morning. “If Bishop can trust him…”

  “Doesn’t seem like anyone else around here’s taking that too seriously,” Kev had noted.

  “Except Caspar,” Carter pointed out.

  “Not like he’s got much of a choice.” Kev had shrugged.

  Now, Kev sucked in a breath and walked over to him. Declan didn’t lift his head when he told Kev, “Yes, I’m from Keller’s.”

  “I know. Declan, right? I’m Kev.”

  Finally, Declan tore his gaze away from the book and stared up at Kev. “You want something?”

  “Actually, yeah.” Kev crouched down. “Look, you’ve been riding these roads around Keller’s for years, right?” Declan stared at him without answering, so Kev pushed down his nerves and continued, “Right. So I figure, you must know the routes like the back of your hand.”

  Again, Declan just stared.

  Fuck. “I’m going to be the one leading the runs back and forth between the compounds. I’ve got Caspar’s maps, and some other intel, but…”

  Finally, Declan answered. “You could ask Rebel. Call Bishop. Why ask me?”

  Kev glanced around. “Because you don’t know me.”

  “Exactly.”

  Kev shook his head impatiently. “Because you don’t see me as the younger brother around here, so you won’t bullshit me.”

  Declan gave a small smile. “But you just told me you’re the younger brother.”

  “I’m eighteen. Around here, that’s goddamned ancient.” Declan’s wry twist of his lips let Kev know the hitman was in agreement about that. Kev lowered his voice and said, “I heard you were doing hits at sixteen.”

  Declan looked at him steadily, and Kev was pretty sure he’d just ruined his chances. Instead, Declan told him, “I was seventeen. And I trained and practiced until I was good. Sounds like you’re taking your role seriously enough, wanting to do the same thing.”

  “Yes,” Kev agreed. “I don’t want to go out there and get lost like some asshole, or killed on my first run.”

  He’d known the roads from the old compound like the back of his hand, but these were narrower, with longer stretches of open road that left the rider exposed.

  “You’ve got a map?”

  Kev pulled the drawings he’d done out of his back pocket. “I sketched them based on the maps Caspar has. But it looks like there should be more here.” He pointed to the blank spots in between the two main roads which connected the Defiance and Keller compounds.

  Declan nodded, took the pencil from Kev’s hand. “Some of the best routes are never on the map. You need to learn these fast and burn these maps. Deal?”

  Kev guessed Declan was about to impart some secrets to him. Maybe he should be suspicious, like most of the other members were. But something about the guy didn’t trigger any of Kev’s alarms. Sometimes, he figured, you just had to go on faith. Right now, Declan was his only shot. “Deal.”

  Chapter Five

  Declan showered, dressed and was rubbing the dampness out of his hair when he heard Rebel come down into the tube. Tonight Defiance was having one of their famous parties, and he knew Rebel wouldn’t go unless he did.

  He also knew that Defiance was expecting him to be out and about—they’d hate it, but it’d be worse if he stayed in and hid. Either way, the MC members would be suspicious of him, but he’d be damned if he’d hide.

  No, he hadn’t been lying to Rebel when he’d told him that he’d given up hiding things a long damned time ago…at least not things that could be helped.

  “Dec?” Declan turned to face the open bedroom door and Rebel continued, “I think we have things to clear up.”

  Declan stopped rubbing his hair. “Like what?

  “You know what.”

  “Come on—we’re going to have this fight again?”

  “You’re the one who goddamned started it,” Rebel pointed out. “You pushed me.”

  “Obviously didn’t take much, Rebel.” Declan quieted. “Like I said, it was all about you fucking me. I’m not allowed to touch you.”

  “You don’t seem to mind when you’re coming. Which you do. Every single time.”

  “I guess sex is enough for you. I want intimacy.”

  Rebel’s tone was somewhere between a reprimand and a cajole. “You trust me to tie you down, Dec, and that’s as intimate as it gets.”

  Rebel was so damned convincing, Declan believed it on one level. It wasn’t like he thought Rebel didn’t give a shit about him at all. As rough as their sex could be, and it often was, Rebel was always aware of Declan, his comfort level, and basically everything.

  “It’s always about your pleasure,” Rebel assured him.

  “What about your pleasure?”

  Something flickered behind Rebel’s eyes, a flash of emotion Declan couldn’t quite place. “You give it to me, Dec. All of it. You’ve gotta know that.”

  “Ah, Reb.”

  “What?”

  “You’re so convincing with the bullshit. And I want to believe it.”

  “So believe it.”

  “I want more.” The words almost came out in a whisper, even though Declan felt as though he were shouting them.

  Rebel’s tone matched when he admitted, “I don’t know if I can do that.”

  And where that left him, Declan had no idea.

  Because he was here, in Defiance, for the foreseeable future. Asking to not be would result in suspicion. Beyond that, Keller needed him here, looking after the family interests.

  Then there was the fact that Declan did want to be here, with Rebel, because maybe they could move forward. Somehow. Rebel had learned enough to realize nothing stayed the same, no matter how badly he wanted it to. “I didn’t start shit. You approached me, remember? All I asked was not to have to hide our shit.”

  “You didn’t ask—you bulldozed—”

  Declan ignored that and continued. “I pushed you because you wanted out, but you’d never do it. Not as long as I made it easy on you, letting you sneak to see me, not letting me touch you, not letting me be seen with you. And I would’ve let it continue, holding out hope that you’d step up. And I’m not exactly the shrinking violet type, Reb. I knew what would push your buttons, hear? So I fucking pushed and over you went.” He was oddly pleased with himself, even though the plan totally screwed him over along with Rebel.

  “You bastard. You knew I couldn’t—”

  “I knew you wouldn’t. Huge difference. And I pushed but you walked. It was a convenient excuse, so don’t bullshit me.”

  Rebel didn’t have an answer for that, even though Declan desperately wanted him to. Instead, Rebel went silent.

  And nothing’s changed… “Come on—time to party.”

  Rebel looked troubled. “You don’t have to.”

  “Sure I do. Everyone’s already suspicious. I’m not going to change their minds by going tonight, but avoiding? Nah, better everyone keep their eyes on me. Just like you’ve been charged with doing.”

  Rebel nodded. “You’re probably right.”

  “Don’t worry—I’ll be good.”

  At that, Rebel snorted. “Didn’t realize that was possible.”

  “At least you remember something.” As he turned, Rebel grabbed his biceps and used the momentum to turn a surprised Decla
n and press against him.

  “I fucking remember everything. Long before I needed to keep an eye on Luna. I kept an eye on you for goddamned years, Dec, so be sure that I tried to memorize your expressions, your voice, your touch…” He trailed off, then let go of Declan. “Let’s go—music’s starting.”

  Declan took a deep breath, adjusted his goddamned cock and followed Rebel out of the tube. As he and Rebel walked across the compound, the lights were blazing, and Declan felt eyes on him from every direction.

  Defiance had a decent-sized population, but Keller’s was nearly double, full of civilians. Keller’s property was much more spread out, and he had the men—and the means—to keep it gated and guarded 24/7. Keller’s operation was large-scale, although Defiance’s tubes were a stroke of motherfucking genius—and a literal life-saver. Defiance MC were the original doomsday preppers, and Declan had to admit that they knew how to party. Even the LoV, with their violent as fuck, “rip your throat out as soon as look at you” tendencies, could be fun when they partied. Relatively speaking.

  Now, the music pounded inside the tent. People milled in and out, and he caught sight of a dance floor. There was also a fighting ring, which didn’t appear like it would be getting use tonight.

  Women were dressed in skimpier clothes than normal, since the heat lamps were all up and running. The normal temperature, thanks to rare sun, hovered in the twenties and thirties outside, which was why the heat lamps were needed to help grow food. Still, underground gardens worked best, and there were entire sections of tubes devoted to that. Defiance might’ve survived the Chaos, but they still prepped like the worst was yet to come. Eventually post-Chaos, everyone’s body adjusted to the new temperatures. It was rare to see people bundled up, but no one really hung out outside unless the sun came out. Otherwise, they were in the aboveground houses and shops and diners, all right on the compound.

  Keller’s ran the heat lamps almost nightly. Keller liked people out and about during the day. Wanted everyone to have fun and relax, because contented people didn’t fight or make trouble. Keller always said he wanted peace, and Declan supposed that was because so much of Keller’s life centered around violence.

  Here, in Defiance, because people were together out of want and common interests—a lifelong investment in the MC—they were like family. And that was the biggest difference between Defiance and Keller’s. Defiance’s common bond wasn’t built on survival as they’d bonded together pre-Chaos.

  They were family.

  And you’re so very not. God, it gnawed his gut that he never could be. Even though Bishop and Mathias were outsiders who’d been accepted, their circumstances were way different than Declan’s. Mainly because of who he worked for…and because Rebel would never let his MC know what Declan meant to him.

  If he meant anything.

  Looking around, it all made him homesick. Angry—admittedly irrationally so—at Rebel, at himself, and at Keller…and at anyone who facilitated bringing him here with no end date in sight.

  He was treated like a narc.

  “Here—you look like you could use this.” Rebel pressed a small bottle of homemade hooch into his hands. “And no, no one else can tell that.”

  Fuck, when he said things like that, Declan wasn’t sure if he wanted to punch him or fuck him.

  Hell, both would work. He downed the crap that passed as alcohol here and almost choked.

  Rebel patted him on the back. “You’ve never had moonshine?”

  “Christ no.” He coughed hard. “I thought grappa was bad.”

  “Keep drinking. Two more sips and it’ll go down easy.”

  “I can’t…”

  “What? Get drunk?” Rebel stared at him. “I’m not drinking, Dec. I’m sober.”

  “To watch me.”

  “Yeah, but not because I’m supposed to. Because I want to. This might let you sleep without nightmares tonight.”

  Declan winced. And took another sip. Choked again, then managed, “You just don’t want me to try to kick you out of bed again.” He spoke, his voice low. He looked up at Rebel, who didn’t seem particularly worried that they were talking about this out in the open.

  “Maybe I’m trying to get you drunk so I can take advantage of you.” Rebel’s tone was pre-sex husky. Flirtatious. Declan downed the rest of the bottle before his mouth—or his body—responded.

  This time, he held back the cough, mainly because he’d made the fatal mistake of looking into Rebel’s eyes and seeing the pure heat there. “Sucked not seeing you.” Then he stared into the empty bottle in order to break the gaze between them. “This shit truth serum or something?”

  “One way to look at it. Truth’s not always bad.”

  Declan bit his tongue at that fucking irony coming from Rebel, but they were interrupted by Kat sidling up to them. “Looks like she’s on a mission,” he told Rebel, and when Rebel didn’t argue, Declan turned and walked a few feet to where Mathias and Jessa were sitting. Apart from Rebel, Declan knew that they’d at least be welcoming, and he wasn’t about to stand there and watch Rebel pretend he liked women. Fuck that. Because as much as Declan knew this was all about show, it didn’t mean he needed to perform.

  After another small bottle of moonshine, Declan wasn’t feeling any pain. Still, he was more worried than mellowed. Hanging with Mathias and Jessa felt more like a night at Keller’s. He missed Bishop too—and that connection they’d made was something he hadn’t seen coming. Especially given the circumstances under which Bishop arrived at Keller’s.

  Both Bishop and Luna knew about Declan and Rebel. Declan wasn’t sure when Bishop knew—or how—because he’d never told him outright. But Luna hadn’t been surprised upon finding out either.

  And that’s probably what freaked Rebel out the most, Declan decided…right before he accepted the third bottle of moonshine.

  *

  Rebel clocked Kat sliding over toward him—no surprise, since she’d been eying him all evening.

  Kat’s house had been a fixture in Defiance since the pre-Chaos days, so it was a no-brainer to reestablish it on the new compound. Kat, a tall woman with a sleeve of tattoos, a raunchy laugh and a pretty face, ran the house—and she also slept with whomever she wanted to, whenever she wanted to. And more often than not, Rebel ended up in her bed. It gave him an excuse—like Luna had when she’d been pretending to be in love with him—not to have to fuck random women. Gave him an out the nights he just couldn’t do it—she was cool with him when he feigned tiredness. Told him, “Sometimes it’s just nice to have a man in my bed. But only sometimes, because you all tend to take over.”

  “Been a while, babe,” she told him now, the sleeveless black leather vest she wore a contrast to her colorful tattoos and platinum blond hair.

  Another thing he liked—she was as busy as he was. He never had to make excuses when she said stuff like that to him.

  “Moving here kicked everyone’s ass,” he agreed.

  She smiled. “You need some stress relief?”

  He wound a hand around her waist and pulled her close. “Love to, but I’m on babysitting duty.”

  Didn’t matter that he was hard thinking about Declan—Kat would think it was for her, and that worked out in his favor.

  “Right—the assassin.” She glanced over at Declan. “He’s hot. I’d be up for a threesome.”

  Reb smiled even as his gut clenched. Not that he couldn’t get out of it, but hell, being in the same bed as Declan and not touching him? Fucking torture.

  Beyond that, Declan would never go against what he was. Not for show. Not like Rebel had been doing his entire goddamned life. “Not his thing.”

  “He’s got someone serious?”

  A bit of irrational jealousy hit him “Yeah, he does.”

  “Good for him. I’d like to see it happen for you.”

  “Never know—you could fall first.”

  “Yeah, sure.” She laughed, but there was a hollowness behind it. They’d never discussed
who she’d loved and lost pre-Chaos, but she’d arrived in Defiance and rented—and paid to fix—the big house with the tubes under it. She’d brought some women with her, and many more approached her, looking for work. And from that point on she’d had Defiance’s protection—and most of the men’s undying gratitude.

  The women—the old ladies—for the most part sucked up the presence of the women their significant others cheated with on a regular basis. That had been part of the MC’s code—the men could fuck other women, and the old ladies accepted it, knowing the men were coming home to them. Lance had wanted that tradition to continue, but there’d been a shift when Caspar took control. Mainly because he never slept around on Tru.

  He still protected Kat and her girls, and if a married guy went there, Caspar said nothing. But he didn’t do it. It was no longer a necessity and a lot of the men turned back to their old ladies and got closer.

  And there were still plenty of single men—and visiting MCs, like the Kill Devils—to keep Kat’s girls busy and paid.

  “You know prostitution’s still illegal?” She held her hands up to the sky. “All this shit, and the morality police are still firmly in place.”

  Even though it was pretty unenforceable. “Good thing none of them live here.”

  Kat smiled. “Call on me soon, babe—we’ll catch up more.”

  Rebel watched her walk away—on to her next conquest—and swore he caught Kian, president of the Kill Devils MC and Caspar’s ally, glaring at him.

  So what the fuck was that all about?

  He had bigger things to deal with, like Declan, who was ignoring him even as Rebel moved closer. He knew why Declan was giving him the cold shoulder that only Rebel would notice. He was, it seemed, having fun playing cards with Mathias and Jessa, talking about Bishop and telling stories. Jessa laughed, Mathias stroking her back as she did, and damn, at times like this, the ache of not being able to touch Declan felt like a true hole in his heart.

  He missed the man who was no more than six feet from him. Fuck.

  He missed Luna too. If she were here…

 

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