Welcome to Cape Hill (Cape Hill Vipers Book 0)

by C. L. Matthews

  I watch his face scrunch. He’s trying his damndest not to cry. Admitting that there is some validity to the information given to us is hard, for him especially. We all found each other, but Xo forced everyone to learn ASL to make Deaftone feel important and involved. She was the mother hen and still is when she can be.

  “We need to search for more information,” he signs. “We need to know everything before confronting her. She’s a Viper, whether sworn in and patched like the rest of us or not involved at all.” He rubs his eyes, acting like he’s tired and not beaten up about everything. “Now, let’s get shit done.”

  After he finishes signing, he glances at me. He can’t bear anymore right now.

  “Rip, where are we at on a team?” I question.

  This will let me know which of the new men sworn in he thinks are ready and also which of the old guys who have always been here should tag along.

  He eyes me, a small smile encompassing his face. “Me, Skinner, Patch, Diesel, Mack, Lex, Seth, Zealot, and Deaftone,” he calls them out, Deaftone most likely because he thinks I wouldn’t trust him to leave shit alone.

  “Who the fuck will watch the Den when we’re gone?” I bark, berated that he picked the one man I wouldn’t want in harm’s way right now.

  “Abner and Pilar,” he replies dryly, like there’s really another answer. “Plus, we all have your back. We’re keeping Bones, Tempi, Lorcan, Fiend and Atticus behind.”

  Those are my Enforcers, Atticus my Sergeant of Arms.

  I nod, still unsure about this entire trip. “What about Xo? Who’s going to watch her, Leia, and Cynosure?”

  “Me,” Pilar sounds out, pointing to her chest for Deaftone’s benefit. She comes from around the corner, carrying a bottle of acid.

  My medicine.

  My chemical of death.

  My Absinthe.

  Do I even trust her for the job?

  I glare momentarily, wondering when she decided to get involved in the politics of this house. Still, I nod warily, wondering what I’m getting myself into.

  “Don’t appear so shocked, Ab. I’ve been meaning to help around more.”

  As she pours me a glass of the green drink that beckons my name, I weigh my options.

  There are none.

  Xo trusts Pilar, and there won’t be blood spilled between the two. If something goes bad, neither are aligned with us. Not with patches, not with tattoos. The only correlation is their love for me and Deaftone and the ties to the Viper king, and my father. I just pray that’s enough.

  “Okay, we ride out at dawn,” I announce with a clap on my hands.

  “You mean, we fly at dawn?” Deaftone jokes, his face lighting up with humor.

  “Yeah, that,” I deadpan, flipping him off. Even if that’s not technically sign language, everyone in the world knows the meaning of that one.

  Chapter Four

  Since we’ll basically be in another country, we can’t bring attention to ourselves. In Layman's terms, that means no bikes, no cuts, no weapons.

  Basically, we’re Vipers without venom, and that sets a scary precedent.

  Without Mistress and my brothers without their babies, we’re naked and vulnerable. It might seem silly to some, but our bikes give us a confidence. They give us a sense of security. They’re our shields. Out there, we can’t even wear our cuts. They would bring too much attention and ruin our cover.

  Abner contacted a chapter out in P.R. They’re going to house us for however long we need. They knew my pops and his pops before him. They seem to be good enough men, and that’s what we need—more brothers.

  We land, and we’re exhausted, so far gone we could fall flat. During the twelve-hour flight, not many slept a wink. One thing you learn in the biker life—don’t let your guard down at any point.

  We head to the pick-up area and are met with faces we don’t recognize, yet we do. They’re just like us—eyes of knowledge you can only get with experience, a stance that’s stiffer than a pole, and a scowl that lets everyone around you know they’re not to be fucked with.

  “Venom?” the beefiest man asks, his accent thick and commanding. On his cut, there’s a President label above his left peck. He’s the man I’m looking for.

  I sign to Deaftone, letting him know this is our guy.

  The group of men exchange wary looks.

  I nod once, tipping my head in acknowledgement. “He’s Deaf,” I explain and sign simultaneously.

  Understanding dawns on their faces.

  After getting within steps, a small smile is on the Pres’ face. I can tell smiling doesn’t come often. He’s more of a scowling kind of guy. We shake hands, and the rest of the crew introduces themselves.

  “No attachments to your home. It’s like you’re naked,” the man jokes dryly. Absentmindedly rubbing the patch on his opposite peck, the one that is his name. Toro.

  “Toro?” I ask, pointing at his patch. There’s a luchador skull-looking mask with guns in the back.

  “Bull. My name because I’m huge,” he jests, smirking and wiggling his eyebrows. He laughs boisterously, and I realize we’re going to be brothers.

  He’s my kind of people.

  “Let’s get you settled in.”

  We all nod in unison.

  While most of them travel by bike, one drives the rest of us by a huge SUV. We make it to the huge building. It’s too large to be called a house but too dingy to be called a mansion. Still, it’s homely and rustic.

  “Casa de los Vengadores.”

  I smile, my Spanish near nonexistent. Like most, I know the swear words. I also know this is their name.

  As we are shown around the place, there’s a special charm about it, one only other club members give.

  I’ve heard they are the good guys. They make me feel less in that sense. I take and take, while they save and save. We’re opposites of the same coin, normally fighting against each other but for each other right now.

  “Get settled in.” Toro gestures to the rooms. “We’ll head to the bar. It’s where we hold meetings.”

  “Us too,” I say.

  I lug my bag down the hall. As soon as I put everything on the bed, I unzip my bag. The first thing I see is my cut. The Absinthe skull with toxic green and purple splats around it showing my name and my president rank.

  I love it. It’s unique and entirely mine. Pilar and Xo had it made when pops sworn me in. That only further proves that she’d never betray me.

  When we arrive at La Cueva, it’s like a party house. There’s loud music, dancing, and lights like it’s a new age night club rather than a biker bar. I feel out of sorts in my black Henley, boots, jeans, and tattoos peeking through my scrunched-up sleeves.

  “Welcome.” A strong accented female with bright blue eyes waves at us as we enter.

  Deaftone and Diesel stayed behind. Deaftone wasn’t comfortable being here when there’s too much going on. He hasn’t had time to scope out the place and find the entrances and exits. He also wanted to check the house and make sure it’s legit and safe.

  “Venom,” Patch says, getting my attention. “We allowed to drink tonight?”

  I smirk. They’re nothing without their kind of energy.

  “Don’t overdo it,” I caution, nodding toward the bar. “Keep your eyes open. This isn’t their bar. It’s a shared Los Desolados and Los Perturbados spot. It’s basically a sanctuary. Be fucking careful.”

  It’s not up for debate. It’s an order. We’re in uncharted territory, and without our guns, we’re vulnerable.

  The guys spread out, a couple at the bar, a few at the pool table in the back, and some near every exit.

  I don’t drink, not my medicine, not water, not even a coke. With my luck, something bad will happen, and I’ll be too far gone to notice.

  My hands fidget. Only my rings keep me weighed down, keep my mind on track. I twist the skull with a viper through the eye squeezing the mouth. It was my father’s and his father’s before that. It marks me as the V
iper president, the Viper king.

  I find myself near the back at a corner with a view of every door and window. It’s not like me to be nervous. Vigilant, yes, but I’m never worried that something is about to go down.

  The more I think about everything, the more nervous I get. There’s too much coincidence in everything that’s happened, and an outlaw like me doesn’t believe in coincidental moments.

  First, Belén is gone. Then Hedge is found out. Out comes Helen with her connection to Los Desolados and Danté. Then she fucks me and vice versa. She somehow disappears, yet we find our way to her playground. Something isn’t adding up, and I’m sure I’m reading into things, but at the same time, everything happens for a reason.

  My mouth is dry. It’s possible it’s only parched since I’m thinking about it. The bartender, another female, watches me. She smiles a sultry grin that tells me she wants me to take her to the back and pound into her. If there wasn’t so much going on, I might.

  No, not after her.

  A niggling in my head reminds me of Hel, the hellion who took my walls down like a bulldozer. Her haunting eyes flash in my mind, reminding me of her dirty fucking mouth and even worse attitude. My cock stirs, and it’s then I know, even with that bartender fucking me with her doll eyes, my mind is stuck on the most toxic person out there.

  She’s the enemy.

  She’s one of them.

  I wave the bartender over, needing a heady distraction. She tells the other barista something before sauntering toward me with motive in each step.

  “What can I do you for?” Her tone is full of innuendo. She twists the ring on her lip, forcing my eyes to catch the glimmer.

  “Absinthe, neat,” I grunt, unwilling to play games but wanting to see if I can still fuck normal after having a treacherous woman in my bed.

  Maybe just a quick fuck in the back? I try to push myself into the narrative, imagining pulling down her skin-tight pants and sticking my dick in.

  But then my mind wanders to Hel, to how she battled me. I’m aching and moody in the worst way, and it’s all for a dark-haired viper who hides in the caves with mongooses.

  She’ll come back to me.

  It’s inevitable.

  “I’ll be back,” she flirts with a wink and then sways her hips the entire way back to the bar.

  Why can’t I get in the mood? I’m usually down for a quick bang wherever it suits me.

  Something about this place has my hackles up though. Maybe that’s why I can’t think of this woman naked and beneath me.

  She’s back within moments, but I didn’t watch her. After handing me the tumbler with the translucent liquid, she waits for my approval.

  My hands grip the glass, the dips in the material making me wonder how many times this has been dropped. It’s nicked and chipped in several places but hasn’t fully cracked and broken.

  I bring up my choice of poison, cherishing the abysmal feeling it’ll bring. It smells like it always does, strong and deadly. Sitting down, I contemplate our next move.

  Bringing the glass to my lips, the liquid touches me, reminding me of every fucked-up situation I’ve ever been in, I notice her.

  My hellion.

  My devil in viper’s skin.

  She stares at me intently. Then, her eyes narrow at the woman in front of me.

  I set the drink down, licking my lips, tasting the beginnings of a long night.

  Hel glares at the back of the barkeep, and I turn my attention to her as well. With my finger, I wave her closer, watching Hel with my peripherals.

  The bartender practically purrs, seating herself on my thigh. She’s such a tiny thing, a little doll to play with when I’m bored. My fingers trace her thigh, up her small waist, and to her neck. I didn’t lie when I said I’d rather lick a woman’s pussy than kiss them, and right now is no different. But for Hel’s benefit, for her running away and coming back here, she deserves this anger.

  I grip the other woman’s throat possessively, like how I did to Hel, like I want to do to her again. As I descend on her throat with my mouth, I hear a sharp, “Get fucking lost.”

  My lips float in the air, hanging like a fool. I don’t move as I see my little monster angrier than my mom when I miss Sunday dinner.

  I hit the table, trying to move for my glass, and then drink it like it’s my only sustenance, like Hel’s going to drain my life with her eyes alone.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” she bites, her plump lips in that constant pout.

  That’s one hole I didn’t take, one unexplored opening. My tongue wants to lick the seams, wants to tease it, fuck it, my cock too.

  “I said—” she starts.

  “I fucking heard you,” I bark, still burning with hatred and anger. She left me. The one woman I spent the night with, she left.

  “Then answer me.”

  “Funny, isn’t it? How you want answers but never afforded me the same.”

  “Difference is you’re on my turf, Venom. That shit don’t fly here.”

  “I need answers.”

  “Don’t we all?” she snarks, curling her lip at me. “Not like fucking that bimbo will get you anything other than syphilis.”

  “Jealous, little monster?”

  “Fuck. You.”

  I chuckle. Our back and forth gets me worked up, making me rock hard and desperate but also furious. She talks to me in a way no one else has ever had the balls to.

  “Again, sweetie?” I mock. “My cock says you’ve missed him.”

  She rolls her eyes at me. I almost missed that, missed the way she fights me.

  Downing half of my glass, I lick my lips slowly and watch her as she memorizes the movement.

  “I only came here to warn you,” she finally lets out, sitting next to me, folding her arms in attempt to keep herself closed off to me.

  “About?”

  “He knows you’re here, and he’s coming for you. I tried warning you the other night, had hoped you’d lay low.”

  “Why the hell would you care?” I bark, annoyed that she’s on their side, that she’s a part of their gang of vermin.

  Hurt flashes across her face before it’s replaced with contempt.

  “I don’t. You know what? Fuck this.” She stands, flipping me the bird and leaving the next moment.

  I don’t chase tail, and that’s not changing for her no matter how good her pussy is.

  Lifting my shoulders, I start to feel foggy. I search the bar for the guys, but I don’t see them. My head starts pounding, and a moment later, I’m fighting to get to the bathroom to wash my face. Sometimes, confrontation drains you, and I had a long flight with no sleep.

  As soon as the doors close behind me though, I hear a deep baritone voice that has my spine erecting.

  “You shouldn’t have come.”

  Chapter Five

  Hel

  “You’re to confront him and get information,” Danté orders, pacing back and forth. “This is fucking important.” His arms are tight at his sides, his face a stark description of a demon. He’s furious.

  After Silas got removed from Los Desolados, he’s been fidgety. It’s like he’s on his own crank, and he’s withdrawing. I’ve never seen him this unhinged, and I’m not sure if it’s because his right hand was accused of betraying the cause and chasing after his woman or the result of drug abuse. It’s not my place to question.

  I’m not here by choice.

  My papá raised me in this. My mamá was killed during a turf war between Los Perturbados and Los Desolados. Growing up around Danté, Silas, and Silva made me strong and unwilling to back down. I’ve sworn my life with blood for this family.

  Even though, this… this mission is a death wish waiting to happen, I’ll do it.

  For papá but most importantly for The Desolate.

  “I understand.”

  “Good. I can’t have another one of you betraying me. It’s bad enough having Xo and Sy gone…” He pauses, his voice gritty with emotion I
hardly see him express. “I need my family back. The only way to accomplish it is expanding to Cape Hill.”

  “Entiendo.”

  “Go. Your flight is in three hours.”

  I nod before taking my leave, immediately noticing Belén crawl over to him, pushing herself into his arms. She’s a snake. A little bitch.

  Xo would have her dead. This kingdom is nothing without our queen.

  Belén is trying to force her way into Danté’s heart, and he doesn’t even notice. She’s going to fuck us all up, and I don’t want to see it happen. I’ll do this for her too. I’ll get my king and queen back together. They’ll rule, and we’ll be there for him.

  No matter the cost.

  No matter the things I’ll have to do.

  That’s how I find myself shackled to a fucking futon.

  I slept with the enemy.

  I let him fuck me in every way many times over and over again. I had no intentions for any of that, yet I couldn’t escape the lure of his absinthe green eyes. The moment they pierced mine like a viper does a mouse, I was lost to him.

  His gaze raked my frame, and I returned the favor immediately. With his broad shoulders, five o’clock shadow, strong jaw, and licorice black hair, I fell to my knees with immediate lust. My body heated at the way he strutted with as much confidence as a man could possibly contain. His lips smirked at me, curling in one corner, as if I’m his newest challenge.

  His cut showed me my worst fear though. He’s the leader, the Prez. I shouldn’t go for the boss. I definitely shouldn’t be imagining fucking him either. His body was covered in black from head to toe, but something told me he has tattoos all over, covering his muscular mammoth frame. Even with me being taller than your average woman, he towered over me.

  A man called him over, well, waved him over and signed something.

  Was he Deaf? Or was it a code type thing? I know very little sign language, and it’s not the American version either.

  After two tumblers full of rum and about ten minutes of men attempting to flirt with me, I was nearly ready to call it quits. My job was to get information, and I didn’t want to appear desperate for this man—even if his link as the Prez, would be the best possibility for answers. But as I swirled my drink, ready to throw it back and find another toy to get information out of, he was back and fiercer than ever.