Point of Freedom (Nordic Lords MC #3)

by Stacey Lynn

  What had tainted that slightly, in the last few months, was a deal Daemon had made on behalf of the club to begin running drugs for Sporelli, a Mafia family out of Chicago. Men never wanted to be indebted to anyone, but when Sporelli approached Daemon over the summer, he couldn’t say no.

  We’d originally planned to work with a rival club, Black Death, when they discovered Sporelli had been trying to take over the ports in Jasper Bay to increase their drug shipments into international waters and west of the Mississippi. Water made for easy transport. We’d been on board with the plan with Black Death once they agreed they’d give up Faith, who they’d bought and forced into their prostitution business. But then Sporelli let Daemon know that Olivia’s dad, Bull Masters—former President of the Nordic Lords and now buried six feet under—had been the one who’d had Olivia’s mom shot and killed five years ago. That night had changed everything for a lot of us.

  Olivia had left town, escaped the club life that had turned their back on her while she was mourning the loss of her mom and recovering from a bullet wound. Ryker had shown up minutes after it happened, hadn’t been able to catch the guy, and because of a misunderstanding with Faith,—he’d taken off to New Orleans.

  But when Sporelli told us that Bull had planned that hit, everything changed again.

  Daemon took his side in a shootout against Black Death. Ryker came back and took out Bull, and now we were stuck, trying to figure out how in the fuck we were going to get out from under our agreement with Sporelli with none of our club members dying while we did it.

  Unfortunately, I could barely think of all that bullshit as we caravanned south down I-35 headed toward Minneapolis. Daemon, Switch, and Tripp were in the front of a semi-truck loaded with smack and cocaine. Finn and I were behind the truck, with five other men behind us and another semi—a decoy.

  When it came to drug runs, we’d separate as soon as we got close to the city. Made it more dangerous to risk being separated and having our group of men split in two, but five and six men with a truck was less suspicious than a dozen.

  Fortunately for us, new runs meant little suspicions with local police. In a few weeks—as drugs began hitting the streets in increasing measure—that’s when shit would get more difficult.

  By then I hoped like fuck Daemon had a plan to deal with Sporellis.

  But even that wasn’t on my mind too much as the wind whipped across my skin and leathers, chilling me slightly in the cool night air.

  My head was still wrapped up in Jules—the way her pussy felt on my tongue and around my fingers as she came so hard I almost came in my jeans. Damn it. It’d been a mistake. Something I couldn’t undo.

  Wasn’t even sure I wanted to take it back.

  But mostly I kept thinking of that damn photo album loaded with pictures of my brother. Him smiling. Growling. On his bike. In the hospital with road rash. But in almost all of them, in the dim light in Sophie’s room, I could see the peace and happiness radiating out of his fucking blue eyes.

  Eyes that looked at Jules like she was his queen.

  I couldn’t have felt like a bigger asshole. There were a lot of shitty things I’d done in my life. A lot of shit I wouldn’t risk confessing. A lot of guilt and a lot of anger had been vanquished at the expense of others—their blood and their lives I had on my hands.

  But fucking my brother’s girl just because she made my dick hard?

  That had to be the biggest betrayal. Even in his death.

  But it didn’t mean I could shake her from my head either.

  Lights from the city shone in our future. In front of the first semi, Daemon raised his hand in a circular motion.

  We stayed in formation as we took the previously discussed exits. Daemon, Switch, Finn, Johnny, and I followed the first loaded semi while the rest of the men took off with the decoy, heading slightly west and on a more direct route to the drop-off point at a lot between Minneapolis and St. Paul.

  Assuming everything went according to plan, we’d see them again in thirty minutes.

  My adrenaline began spiking at the mission. I hated this shit—the drugs and our new alliance—but nothing made me more focused than a job that could go bad real quick.

  We might just be bikers to some—dirty men who drank beer and partied hard and revved our mean engines just to piss off the suburbanites.

  But we’d seen shit no one else had. We lived in a world of our own making, and it wasn’t all pretty or easy.

  With Finn next to me, I caught him looking at me, head bobbing trying to get my attention.

  I spared him a glance, keeping the truck and men in front of us in my line of vision when I turned my head.

  From next to me, the crazy fucker smiled wide.

  “Asshole!” I shouted over the rushing wind and noise of our engines.

  Finn just raised a brow and nodded again, then paid attention to the road. He was a quiet son of a bitch, not speaking unless necessary, but holy damn if he wasn’t smart.

  Always taking shit in, he had a sixth sense when shit was going to get bad.

  If Finn was smiling, everything would be fine.

  I sighed, twisted my hands on the rubber grips beneath my gloved palms. A slight rumble of disappointment ran through me at the thought.

  A part of me loved the fight, loved the danger and the wildness. And with the frustration and tension between me and Jules, I needed some way to get rid of it.

  Putting a bullet in Sporelli would work just fine.

  Erik Sporelli met us at the loading dock as soon as we rolled in.

  Ryker and the rest of our men were standing across from him when we pulled in. All eyes turned to us as the truck was parked and we climbed off our bikes.

  Following Daemon, I stayed a slight distance back, scanning the area while keeping my eyes peeled for hidden men.

  I didn’t see them. Didn’t mean they weren’t there; just sneaky fuckers. No way in hell would a Sporelli be at a meet alone with ten men who’d easily gut him and bury him.

  Based on Ryker’s scowl, I figured he was thinking the same thing. He probably should have been grateful to the younger Sporelli in front of us. They’d found Faith and took her to safety in Minneapolis when Black Death kidnapped her after a showdown at Sturgis Rally during the summer. Ryker had gone ballistic when he’d seen her—seen how much she’d been hurt at Black Death hands.

  But if it hadn’t been for Sporelli and their underground contacts, she could have been worse.

  Ryker might have wanted to thank Erik for that, but he was also holding a grudge—not only because we were under Sporelli’s eye right now, but because he’d seen Faith naked.

  Naked and beaten, but naked all the same.

  “It’s all here,” Daemon said, once hellos had been exchanged. I barely spared Sporelli a nod as he took in the truck.

  He cocked a half grin. “Mind if I check?”

  Daemon glanced around, probably thinking the same thing I had been. Where were his men? “Where are they?”

  “They’re around.” He waved his hand dismissively, proving what I figured.

  They were sneaky bastards, hiding under the cover of darkness just in case shit went bad. We couldn’t take out Sporelli if we wanted to—not without knowing where the enemy was.

  With a slightly clenched jaw, Daemon waved his arm out. The rest of us took a step back as Sporelli passed us.

  As his hand hit the metal handle, Sporelli glanced back with a smart-ass grin. “Anything gonna blow up?”

  Daemon’s lip twitched. “Not today.”

  A slight glare of warning flashed in Sporelli’s eyes before he turned to the truck. The loud banging of metal on metal vibrated in the open air as the door lifted. A slight increase in the tension prickling the air had me looking around.

  Sure enough, I had no clue where they came from, but over a dozen armed men stepped from the shadows, surrounding us and the truck.

  Muscles I didn’t know existed coiled tight in my back and shoul
ders. I looked to Daemon.

  He had his hands loosely held at his sides, but I took in the tightness around his eyes and lips. With a slight shake of his head, he silently told the rest of us to remain calm.

  Once Sporelli moved inside the truck, his men closed the space around us and entered with him. Several stood guard at our backs while he inspected each crate we’d delivered.

  “Looks good,” he finally said, jumping out of his truck like he was in jeans instead of his flashy Italian suit. “We’ll contact you when there’s more coming. Probably next month.”

  Daemon’s upper lip curled and his hands tightened. “Lotta product you’re moving.”

  Sporelli grinned, flashed a smile with sparkling white teeth that I’m sure got him laid nightly. “Yes, well, there’s a lot of land that’s demanding the product.” He shook Daemon’s hand, and continued. “Don’t worry, we’ll keep you busy.”

  I thought I heard Daemon growl his disgust and frustration, but Sporelli didn’t seem to mind.

  “See ya around, Daemon.”

  We stood still until Sporelli and his men had left, waited a few minutes even longer after we knew we were alone before Daemon threw his hands through his hair and cursed.

  “Fucking shit!”

  “Don’t know how much longer we can run this shit, Daemon,” Ryker said, stepping up to him.

  “No shit?”

  “Settle,” Switch said, stepping between the brothers, who looked ready to throw down. Personally, I wanted to sit back and watch it happen. Maybe join the brawl. A fight between brothers might not get too heated, but it’d be good for the tightness in my chest. “We’ll figure shit out, but we got a ride home to do. Stow your shit until we’re at the club with your women and a drink.”

  Both Ryker and Daemon smiled immediately. Ah, hell: pussy and beer.

  Sounded good to me.

  Except it made me think of Jules again. I still had the taste of her pussy on my tongue. And I knew I could never have it again.

  She’s only two. She’s only two.

  I repeated the silent mantra while I watched my daughter thrash and roll on the grass lawn outside our apartment. The mom in me knew—knew—she’d been through a lot of changes in the last few weeks and was having a difficult time adjusting. A move across the country, moving in with grandparents, and now another new place to call home.

  She’d been trying my sanity since she’d woken up at five o’clock this morning, though. At seven, I was ready to call a redo and put us both back to bed. I would have, too, if I wasn’t supposed to be starting my new job at Bella Salon this morning.

  Now, at eight, as I watched her throw her hundredth tantrum of the morning, I was done.

  I wanted to haul ass back to the apartment, gulp a glass of wine in hopes it refueled my patience.

  I put my hands on my hips and watched her silently. It was generally the fastest way—let the loud tantrum run its course and we’d be on our way—but she’d been at this for what felt like hours now, and I had neighbors to worry about. Last thing I wanted was us getting evicted in our first week due to my daughter’s shrill, ear-piercing screams.

  Maybe I should buy my neighbors some ear plugs.

  “Enough.” I used my mom voice to no avail. Granted, my mom voice wasn’t very stern. I hadn’t yet mastered the serious look and quick, snapping words my mom had always used on me. But my gentler approach seemed to work with Sophie most of the time.

  Again, she screamed louder.

  I reached down and scooped her up just as the loud and familiar rumbling of a truck engine filled the air. I watched as Jaden pulled into a spot four spaces down.

  With Sophie in my arms, I burrowed her crying, tear-stained face into my shoulder and walked to the truck right as Jaden climbed out.

  Ignoring the way my pulse automatically increased as he met me on the sidewalk, I frowned.

  He stared at me with blank eyes, showing no emotion of what had passed between us just nights ago.

  “What are you doing here?”

  He ignored me and pointed to Sophie. “What’s wrong with her?”

  A heavy weight hit my gut, but I pushed past it. I didn’t have the time to deal with him, our epic mistake, or the way my thighs were already clenching together as Jaden moved closer to me. Us.

  “She doesn’t want to go to her new daycare.” Shuffling her weight onto my other hip, I readjusted my purse and Sophie’s diaper bag. “And I’m late for work.”

  “No mommy work!”

  I flinched from her screeching sound and tried to protect her flailing feet from smacking into my hips. “You’ll be fine,” I cooed.

  Jaden took a step forward, his lips pressed together. “Hey, Soph.”

  Her little head snapped up and she smiled in a way that was completely opposite from the way she’d looked at me all morning. A small bite of jealousy niggled at me. She’d smile for Jaden and not me?

  “Uncah Jaden!” Her arms unlatched from my neck and she launched herself into his arms.

  He exhaled an “oomph” at her quick and unexpected impact as her monkey legs wrapped around his waist.

  “Hi!”

  “You givin’ your mom a hard time?”

  Her little face scrunched up. “No daycare.”

  “She’ll be fine,” I said, swiping hair out of my face and tucking it behind my ear. I took a moment and reveled in the way Sophie looked tangled around Jaden’s body and in his arms. He held her like he’d been holding her for years. Like he’d never hated her on the spot. “She never wants to go to daycare, but she’s fine within minutes.”

  Jaden looked at me, glanced at Sophie’s brightly lit face, and back to me. “I can take her.”

  “Uh. No?”

  “What do you mean, no?” The familiarity in the tightness of his angry eyes filled me with a normalcy I could almost live with. “You said I could see her.”

  I rubbed my hand across my forehead, pressed my fingertips into my temples to relieve the beginning thumps of a stress headache. “Because,” I sighed. “She needs routine and familiarity—it’s the quickest way to get her to adjust. You can see her later if you want.”

  His lips twitched and he pressed them together. “Can’t she start that shit tomorrow?”

  “Stuff.”

  “Huh?” He frowned.

  “Don’t swear around her.”

  He huffed a quick laugh. “Babe. You want her around bikers? She’ll hear that crap.”

  “Stuff,” I hissed at him. But my belly flipped at ‘babe.’ It was condescending and said mockingly, but by the way my lower stomach warmed and pulsed with heat, my body didn’t seem to mind.

  “Whatever,” he mumbled. His fingers threaded through Sophie’s hair as she reached out and cupped Jaden’s cheek with her small hand.

  “I see Uncah Jaden,” she said, pulling on his cheek so his eyes were inches from hers. She grinned.

  I melted into the concrete.

  “Where will you take her?” I relented, giving in way too easily.

  Jaden grinned. “Thought I’d show her around the club and the garage. Olivia will be there.”

  That helped. At least Olivia would know what to do with Sophie if she freaked out.

  I sighed. “Fine, but only today. Tomorrow she goes to daycare. And make sure you call me if you need anything.”

  Jaden licked his lips and nodded. My eyes stared at his tongue darting out, slowly swiping his bottom lip.

  I bit back a groan. God. What was wrong with me?

  “Let me get her car seat.” I spun on my heels, hurrying to my car and away from the way he made me feel.

  I had to stop doing that. Nothing would happen with Jaden ever again.

  My hands sweated as I climbed around the confusing contraption, unlocking the safety harness from the backseat of my Camry. By the time I was done, I’d scratched the belt hooks against my knuckles and I was so flustered that my hair had become matted against my forehead.

  Awesome.
Because showing up at a salon with the Barbie triplets looking like a hot mess made a great first impression.

  Jaden watched me haul the car seat into his truck, and I explained how to buckle it in properly so Sophie would be safe. I was pretty certain his eyes rolled a few times.

  “There.” I pushed her diaper bag into his chest. His hands reached out and clasped it. “Extra clothes, wipes, snacks, whatever you need is in there. If you need help, ask Liv or call me.”

  “I’ve got this, Jules.”

  “Yeah?” I arched a brow. “You spent a lot of time around kids?”

  “No, but I’m not an idiot.” His teeth ground together, making a scratching sound. I looked at Sophie, buckled into the front seat of his cab truck, happily swinging her feet back and forth and sucking her thumb while cuddling her pink elephant blanket.

  She looked so small in the huge truck and a tingle of nerves went down my spine.

  “Be careful with her,” I said, turning to Jaden. My fingers trembled as I closed her door. “She’s all I have.” Damn it. Leaving Sophie at daycare was hard enough on me. Leaving her with Jaden was terrifying. Not because I thought something bad would happen, but because I’d wanted this for months.

  For years. My greatest wish—for Sophie to know Scratch’s family—was finally happening.

  I sniffed, regaining control. “What will you do with her?”

  He shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll take her to the garage and teach her how to change oil and brake fluid—that kind of shit.”

  He smiled mockingly.

  I ignored the way it made my pulse flutter. “Stuff.”

  He grinned. “That too.”

  I rolled my eyes as he headed around the front of the truck. He hit the hood twice, gaining Sophie’s attention from the inside, and flashed her a wink.

  Damn him. When had he become so freaking nice?

  My first morning at Bella Salon went uneventfully. The hardest part was telling the three girls apart, but after taking Cammie’s advice, mentally cataloguing what each girl was wearing as soon as they said hello, I didn’t screw up a name once.