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City Of Sin_A Mafia & MC Romance Collection

Page 91

by K. J. Dahlen


  Rio and Lug Nut read the name-patches on the front of their vests. I couldn’t tell if they were Steel Veins or a different gang. It probably wouldn’t matter. With the notable exception of Remy, all these bikers were the same. At least to me.

  A biker with the patch name of Skinpipe leaned in and looked us both over. “Well shit, this works out. You girls wanna party?”

  We said nothing.

  “Yo, Skin, you’re not talkin’ bout the Spanish bitch too, right?” Lug Nut’s rubbery face contorted as if he was slapped with an insult.

  “Don’t hate. I like my fish tacos with a little meat on em.” Skinpipe reached out to grab Gloria’s waist.

  She tried to step back, but the room was just too small for her to move.

  “Don’t you dare touch her!” I kicked the cart at the biker as hard I could.

  The corner caught him in the balls and he staggered backwards, cursing.

  I stepped forward to block the other two from getting at her. This was happening—I just couldn’t escape it. If it wasn’t Top, it was going to be one of these other assholes that dragged me away.

  Fine. I felt a fiery resolve boil in my stomach. Take me, but you’re not taking her.

  Gloria was the only one who’d been nice to me since…. Hell, since before I got to Oklahoma. It felt good to protect someone worthwhile, even if the consequences were horrible.

  “I like this one!” Rio declared.

  He and Lug Nut erupted into laughter when Skinpipe had to let go and grab his nuts.

  “Bitch is feisty. How’re them nuts, Skin?” Rio sniggered.

  “Fuck you.” Skinpipe groaned, wiping away the water from his eyes.

  “These girls definitely want to party!” Rio laughed and started in for us, again.

  I pulled the steak knife from my waistband.

  Rio’s smile fell and the laughter stopped.

  Right away, I felt like I just made a bad decision.

  “Heh, feisty girl wants to play...” The playfulness drained from Rio. He stepped back a few steps and whipped out the switchblade I’d heard earlier.

  Had it just been me there alone in that closet, I don’t know, maybe I would’ve held onto the knife and seen what would happen. But with Gloria there... I couldn’t risk it. There was three of them and I was hopelessly outnumbered. They might kill her if I became too much of a nuisance. I dropped the knife. “Just take me, leave her alone,” I said.

  Rio contemplated it for a moment. If his eyes could have jumped out of his head, I would’ve felt them roll up my legs and tits. “Nah, take them both,” he decided then slapped a hand on Lug Nut’s shoulder. Rio jerked the cart I kept defensively between us sidelong down the hall, and grabbed me while Lug Nut went for Gloria.

  “Wait! You can’t take her! It’s against the house rules. You can take Muse’s working girls, but not her employees,” I cried loudly. It was a total bluff, but I hadn’t seen any of the junkies and whores from last night with the cleaning crew today. There were actual maids like Gloria and then there were working girls that only dressed like maids. They had to be separate jobs! Muse was too smart of a businesswoman to let them mix like that.

  “The fuck are you talkin’ about, bitch?” Skinpipe grunted, rubbing the soreness from his groin.

  “I don’t work here yet, I was just helping Gloria out.” There was no way both of us were getting off the hook. Gloria obviously didn’t know exactly what was being said, but the worried look she wore told me she was getting the gist of it. “If you fuck things up for Muse, then you fuck things up for Top! Do you really want that kind of trouble?” I finished, praying the bluff worked.

  Rio physically rolled his head left and right while mulling it over.

  Gloria flashed me a concerned glance, then with a motherly firmness she latched onto my arm as if to keep the whole world from pulling me away. She didn’t like where this was headed.

  “Leave the Spanish bitch. Skin, once your balls pop back out, go talk to Muse. See if this cunt is lying.” Rio reluctantly decided to err on the side of caution.

  Thank you.

  I pried Gloria’s hand away and let myself be dragged away without a fight.

  Gloria watched me go with a great sadness etched on her features. She replaced it with sternness and ran off in the opposite direction, bumping Skinpipe with her elbow as she passed.

  Gloria, bless her heart, was probably running to Muse for all the good that was bound to do. Remy’s words floated through my head. “Simple economics.” I’m the product, they’re the customers, and, “The customer always gets what he wants.”

  Passing through that barroom door, I was being dragged into the maw of a giant beast. Swallowed whole. With the sheer volume of people in the bar, it was noticeably hotter and the stale air reeked of a long day’s ride in both sweat and dust.

  Rio threw me into a booth and told me if I moved he’d kill me.

  I was back in hell, where could I possibly go now? I was one booth over from where Top took me last night. It figured. I just sat there and waited for the inevitable.

  The only thing that kept my spirits up was imagining Gloria storming into Muse’s office and demanding that I be released or she was quitting. Then the fantasy part kicked in. Muse, terrified of losing her best worker, buckled immediately then ran down here in those black stilettos and forced everyone to let me go. Why stop at Muse? Why not Superman crashing through the ceiling and spiriting me off to safety?

  It was about as probable.

  My heart jumped a beat when I saw Remy across the room. He was talking to a grizzled, bearded bald man with an eye patch over one eye—the quintessential old guard biker— and the way everyone was shaking his hand and hanging on his words, I could tell he was a big deal in their community. I didn’t care about him though. My eyes followed only Remy.

  I didn’t know what Remy’s status in the club was, but almost everyone looked older than him. Remy looked to be in his late twenties or early thirties. He spoke and moved with such surety that he stood out among the rabble almost to the degree of Top and Old One-eye.

  I’d always been perceptive. It was easy for me to pick out the decision-makers in a crowd and Remy was certainly one of those men.

  I didn’t know if he felt my gaze on him, but Remy casually scanned the room and found me. When he did, that roughly, handsome face sunk a bit. Remy let his gaze drift to the ceiling in subdued exasperation. I was sure he was asking himself the question, how many times do I have to pull this silly girl out of the fire?

  Part of me expected him to stay over there, deciding he couldn’t help me anymore. I was a lost cause. Maybe he should give up on me. The depression hit hard in that moment.

  Was I really worth it? I couldn’t fathom why he’d risked so much for me already. Our roles being reversed, I probably would have cut my losses with me too.

  Could you abandon him if your roles were reversed?

  No, I didn’t think I could…

  Remy stood there so long that I thought he actually had finally wised up and decided to ignore me. Then he looked back at me with these half-set eyes. The look was that of willful resignation, like even he could barely believe what he was going to do next.

  Remy parted the crowd and walked toward me.

  I was never happier to be wrong in my entire life. Jesus, I could’ve cried. Locking eyes with him pulled a smile from the depths of my soul that I didn’t know existed. I had to cover my face.

  “Rio, the fuck are you thinking?” Remy said, turning away from me at the last moment.

  “Woah, easy, Poe,” Rio replied.

  Poe? Like the author, Edgar Allan Poe? I guess Remy’s penchant for literature was widely known.

  “Did you not see the uniform?” Remy pointed at me. “Top sent you to Muse to get the girls, not the staff.”

  “I’m the national president’s fucking Vice, I get who the fuck I want.” Rio rose up off the bar and got in Remy’s face.

  Remy sneered. “
Remember whose house you’re in, boy.”

  Rio did look young, maybe early twenties.

  Remy didn’t give him an inch, if anything, he pushed in closer. “Deadeye has rules in place for a reason. I don’t mind telling him why his kid is missing a few teeth.”

  The radius of men taking notice of the argument grew exponentially, and it looked like they were siding with Remy. Rio probably could’ve argued the fact that I said I didn’t work here yet, but he picked up the vibe from his peers and just sat back down. “S’fine, you’re right. My bad.” Rio put his hands up and frowned in reluctant agreement.

  “Glasses, get the fuck back to work before Muse beats your ass.” Remy shot me a quick glance that told me to get as far away as possible, then he sat down next to Rio and changed the subject entirely. “What are you drinking? It’s on me.”

  “Whiskey and coke,” Rio said, calming down. Remy gave him an amiable way out that didn’t cause him to lose too much face.

  I shot up and headed for the door. God, I hoped Remy would find a way to me tonight. There were a thousand ways I wanted to thank him. None of them involved me wearing this outfit.

  Remy ordered two Jack and Cokes and purposefully kept his vision stapled elsewhere until I was gone.

  That creep, Rio, drank in every step I took. “Hey, Glasses,” Rio called to me just as I reached the door.

  I stopped and acknowledged him. I had to, no matter how much it felt like someone poured a cold, bucket of slime down my back. I didn’t respond but I turned to at least face him.

  “Apologize to Muse for me—”

  Almost as if on cue, the door to the hall was pushed open. Muse, followed by ten working girls filed in. After the initial cheers died down, Muse regarded me with a sly wink. That fluster from earlier was completely gone. “Oooh, my ears are burnin’! Hello, Rio,” Muse purred, sailing him a kiss on the air.

  He smirked, got up, and gave her a hug.

  “Don’t worry boys, I have more friends coming!” she announced.

  Through the renewed round of cheers, Remy paid for the drinks and decidedly sat this conversation out. He pretended to be watching the football game on one of the TVs, but I knew he was listening intently, gauging the rapidly changing situation.

  “I was just telling your girl here,” Rio resumed, “to apologize to you for the misunderstanding.”

  “Sugar, there’s no misunderstanding. The shining Star is a free agent. She doesn’t work for me. Silly girl got herself all wet, so I gave her something dry to slip into, is all.”

  She wasn’t just cutting me loose—she was serving me up! That bitch! Ugh, I hated myself for trusting her this morning, but I hated her more for what she was doing now. I wasn’t waiting around for her to strip me naked in front of everyone—I needed to get the hell out of there.

  Not even two steps later Rio’s boney hand snatched my arm. “Is that so? Looks like mommy will let you stay out past your bedtime.” He pulled me in close.

  Past him, I could see Remy turn in his bar stool and take us in. He leveled his deadly gaze at the back of Rio’s head, then on to Muse. It was a look that sent a shiver up my spine to rival earlier, when he had his hand to my throat.

  Catching Remy’s glare, Muse’s smile lost its luster, dropped and peeled away like old paint as she unconsciously took a small step backward.

  “I didn’t mean to be so rough earlier, I just get excited,” Rio cooed at me. “How’s about a kiss?”

  “Get off me!” I twisted away from him. The skin on my neck crawled away from the heat of Rio’s breath. When I glanced back, I found Rio’s face painfully contorted.

  Remy had his hand wrapped so tightly around Rio’s wrist that the man’s whole arm was turning white. “Let go,” Remy said so quietly that I didn’t actually hear the words, I read them off his lips.

  Rio immediately complied and I wrenched myself free.

  Remy then turned to Muse without letting go of Rio. “You and I are going to have words later. Leave.”

  “What for?” Muse asked coyly. “Little bird found her way here all by herself and this is my bar, Remy. No one tells me what I can or—”

  “Fucking goddammit!” Rio sharply growled at Remy’s tightened grip.

  Remy stared at Muse, his eyes narrowing slightly, full to bursting with hellish promises. Remy used Rio’s anguish to send Muse a taste of what he was capable of.

  Muse looked around to see if she could rally any support for her defense, but everyone was more interested in her girls and booze than her. She swallowed, anxiously tugging at the bottom of her shirt before curtly walking out of the bar.

  Remy released Rio.

  “What the fuck, Remy?!” Rio was fuming. He struck me as an entitled brat who was used to getting his way. “If the bitch was your Ol’ Lady, then fucking say so!”

  “Her name is Star.”

  “Who gives a fuck? Is she or isn’t she?” Rio snarled in pain, rubbing his wrist.

  “Answer his question, Remy. Is she your Ol’ Lady?” Top waited expectantly with the one eyed guy right behind him. Despite all the other distractions, Top had somehow noticed the situation and walked over for a closer look. “Because I’m getting real fucking tired of having that big a loose end kicking around.”

  Remy saw the worried look on my face or maybe it was the way I tried to push myself backwards through the wall I was up against. Remy quietly scanned the faces of everyone who waited on his answer. His expression was completely unreadable. He could have an amazing plan, or…none at all.

  I didn’t know him well enough to know which.

  “Fine, little brother. Force my hand.” Top put two fingers in his mouth and whistled, the music cut out and everyone quieted to hear what the big man had to say. “Brothers, we got ourselves a situation here. This girl was at the gas station when Bren was killed. In fact, her boyfriend is the one who killed Bren.” Top began loudly.

  A wave of growing anger rolled off the crowd. It didn’t take much to agitate these bikers, and even less for them to become fully enraged.

  “Not only that, but she saw one of our members, Remy, pull the trigger on the fucker. For whatever reason, he hasn’t done what needs doin’ yet. No more near misses. No more fucking around. We’re resolving this issue right fucking here, right fucking now! We got the national president with us, so I say we put it to a vote. What do you think, Deadeye?”

  The stoic one-eyed man crossed his arms, thinking on it for a moment, then dipped his head in a slight nod.

  “All in favor of putting a bullet in this pretty, little piece-of-incriminating-evidence say Aye!”

  When Top finished, the overwhelming Ayes that roared through the crowd rattled the windows.

  I was about to be lynched.

  It was staggering how many angry men there were here and how quick they were to decide if I lived or died. This kind of hatred was so hard for me to understand. These men were willing to kill me despite half of them never even knowing I existed before Top decided to vote on my death.

  I was an introverted girl from New Hampshire. Sure, I had my flaws, and I made a few mistakes in my life, especially the one with my teacher that landed me here, but did I really deserve to die? I was an eyewitness to a murder.

  I closed my eyes, awaiting judgment. The naïve part of me died then and there. Witnesses never survived.

  “All opposed?” Top bellowed confidently that no one would, not that it mattered now. From the little bit I’d gathered, the MC world was almost a true democracy. One member, one vote. Majority rules and this time majority wanted me dead.

  “Nay!” Remy defiantly stood between me and fifty of the scariest men I’d ever seen. His lone, startlingly loud cry rang out like a hammer striking an anvil.

  I’d never heard his voice that loud before.

  In the face of so much anger, Remy’s nerve was that of fire-tempered steel. In that golden moment, he felt larger than life to me.

  Superman had come.

 
Everyone looked as shocked as I was, and it was a testament to how much respect he commanded, that they didn’t just brush by him and tear me to shreds anyway.

  Remy stood there and dared them to do just that.

  No one moved.

  “The Nays have it. Leave her be,” Deadeye declared, a subtle smirk turning the side of his face.

  Just like that, the crowd began breaking off into smaller groups, the music was turned back on, and things generally resumed.

  Jesus, how important was this Deadeye guy if he could enforce that kind of ruling?

  Top and Rio notably disapproved, but it honestly looked like that didn’t matter. Biker justice had been meted out. It was over.

  My heart was beating so fast that I was light-headed. My vision blurred, I had to sit down. I must have looked so pitiful when Remy finally turned to check on me.

  Fuck, I felt like I’d just walked through a hurricane.

  There was even the slightest flash of hesitance in Remy’s eyes when Deadeye called him away. He didn’t want to go.

  More than anything, I didn’t want Remy to leave either, but after that ruling, even I could tell that Deadeye wasn’t a man to be argued with.

  The club voted and I’d somehow made it through…so what was that concern on his face? It was over, right?

  Then why did I have such a pit in my stomach?

  Before he left, Remy gently touched my hand. I felt like I’d been struck by lightning and throughout the whole trial, it was trapped within me, agonizingly arcing between my extremities. His touch was so grounding. He stole away all my nervousness and electric anxiety. I could breathe again. I slumped into the booth and watched him walk off.

  I couldn’t worry anymore I was too exhausted.

  After a bit, I did get a bit nervous when I’d lost him in the bar. I walked through the throng of people, the other bikers kept their distance from me not wanting to mess with Deadeye’s ruling. Where did Top and Deadeye take him? I hoped Remy was all right, then I reminded myself that if he made it this far, he could probably take care of himself.

  I didn’t see Rio creep around behind me. I should’ve been more careful. I tried to scream Remy’s name but his hand quickly clamped down over my mouth as he dragged me outside in plain view. Maybe it was because he was the national president’s son, or because they still blamed me for Bren’s death, but so many of the Veins saw this happening, and no one moved to stop it.

 

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