Hold Me Down (The Deacons of Bourbon Street #3)

by Jackie Ashenden

  It was dark, and there were plenty of streets near the clubhouse where he could sit and wait in the shadows. There were guards about, but he knew how to move around without being seen and he made sure no one saw him.

  He parked the bike in a nearby alley, then slowly made his way closer to the clubhouse. The dark porch of a run-down dime store offered him some cover, so he stood there, leaning against the wall, watching the clubhouse entrance.

  People went in and out, but none of them were Alice.

  His phone vibrated in his pocket and he grabbed at it. But when he checked the screen, it was only Ajax. Probably telling him to come the fuck back. Too bad he wasn’t going to. At least not until he’d checked out the deal with Alice.

  Raised voices caught his attention and he looked up.

  Across the street, outside the clubhouse, Alice was standing with her arms folded. In front of her was a Ministry guy. Blue recognized him: the same man that he’d seen leave her workshop earlier that day. As Blue watched, the man reached out and put his hands on her shoulders, trailing them down her forearms in a caressing movement.

  The relief that had filled him when he saw her abruptly became a thick, choking fury and it was all he could do not to step out of the shadows, pull the fucker away from her, and punch the prick in the throat. But even he knew a move like that, directly in front of the Ministry clubhouse, was asking for trouble.

  Alice pulled away from the man and began walking down the street. The guy began to follow her, talking all the while, though Blue couldn’t quite hear what he was saying.

  Slipping away from the porch, Blue followed them down the sidewalk at a discreet distance.

  “Let me give you a ride home,” the guy was saying. “C’mon, Red.”

  “I appreciate it, Gator,” she replied. “But I think I’ll find my own way home.”

  “So that’s it?” Gator said, obviously not giving up. “That’s all I get? Jesus, you’ve been keeping me hanging for a week. I need an answer.”

  Alice stopped abruptly and stared at the man. Blue couldn’t see the expression on her face, but there was something tense about her posture. “How did you get the scratches on your bike?”

  Ice congealed in Blue’s gut.

  “What?” Gator sounded taken aback by the sudden question.

  “Your bike. The exhaust was screwed and the paint was scratched.”

  “Yeah, I had an accident. No biggie.”

  “How?”

  “What the fuck do you want to know that for?”

  Blue came a little closer. What the hell was she doing?

  “I’m the one fixing the damn thing. I want to know how it happened.”

  Gator shrugged. “I swerved avoiding a dog.”

  “You didn’t tell anyone.”

  “Why the fuck would I? I don’t want the other brothers ragging on me about it.”

  There was a silence, Alice standing there staring at Gator. Then she said, “Where did the bits of paint come from?”

  “What?” Gator shifted impatiently. “What’s with all the questions, Red. I don’t want—”

  “There were flecks of red paint embedded in some of the scratches. Where did they come from, Gator?”

  “The fucking dog—”

  “You’re lying. I collected a few of the flecks, checked them out with a guy who does custom paint jobs. Funnily enough, those flecks were exactly the same color and composition as the red paintwork on Priest Lombard’s bike. How did that happen, do you think?”

  The words resonated in the silence like gunshots, and Blue tensed. What the hell was going on? Was this the guy who’d killed Priest? And what the ever-loving fuck was Alice doing confronting him about it out in the street, by herself, with no goddamn help?

  For a minute, nothing happened. Then Gator moved, his hands coming up, slamming Alice hard against the brick wall that ran along the sidewalk.

  And Blue was running, crossing the street, coming up behind the guy, hauling him off her and spinning him around. One punch to the face, another to the stomach, and Gator dropped to the ground.

  “What the hell, Blue?”

  He looked at her, adrenaline like wildfire in his blood. “He attacked you.”

  “I was taking care of it.” She had something in her hand. Her knife. “Were you following me?”

  The man on the sidewalk groaned.

  Blue grabbed her arm and began walking toward the alley where he’d left his bike. “We can’t discuss this here. Come with me.”

  She resisted a second, then went with him, walking quickly down the sidewalk at his side. “You shouldn’t be here. Why did you come?”

  “Because you didn’t come to The Priory. I thought something had happened to you.” He didn’t mention what the others had said.

  “I went to see Blade. The meeting took longer than I thought.”

  Blue stepped into the alley and as the shadows sheltered them, he pulled her around to face him and gently pushed her up against the wall, unable to resist the urge to run his hands over her, check she was okay. The worry and anger and relief were tangling around themselves inside him, knotting so hard he could barely tell which was which.

  “I’m okay, Blue. Seriously.” She made a cursory attempt at batting his hands away, but he ignored her.

  Once he was certain she didn’t have a scratch on her, he put his palms to the brick on either side of her head, looking down into her face. It was pale in the dim light of the alley, her eyes huge and dark.

  “What the hell did you think you were you doing?” he demanded. “Confronting that prick on your own?”

  “I had my knife.”

  “And no fucking backup.”

  She sighed. “He wouldn’t have tried anything major. Not with the whole clubhouse right there.”

  “Oh sure he wouldn’t.”

  Despite the Dumpster full of trash at the back of the alley, he could smell her scent, of sweetness and flowers, with a delicate musky tinge that made him hard as a rock. Made him so aware that it had been a whole night and nearly two days since he’d last been inside her. Since he’d had her legs wrapped around his waist and her nails digging into his back as he’d fucked them both into oblivion.

  Not so very long in the greater scheme of things. Yet it felt like a goddamn eon to him.

  You should probably not get close to her.

  Yeah, he probably shouldn’t. And yet he stayed right where he was.

  “I heard what you said to that cocksucker. About the paint. Is he the one who killed Priest?”

  She shifted against the bricks. “That paint was a special formulation ordered for Priest’s bike—it wasn’t used for anyone else’s. So you tell me. How else could it have ended up embedded in Gator’s paintwork?”

  Something hard and sure settled down inside him. “So it was Ministry. And fucking Blade paid one of his own brothers to do it.”

  “No, he didn’t.” Her chin had come up and she was looking at him in that direct, challenging way she had. “Blade came by the garage this afternoon. Gator must have told him I was asking about Priest, so he came to find out why. I had to give him the truth.”

  Blue stilled. “What truth?”

  Her gaze didn’t flinch. “I asked him whether he’d had Priest killed.”

  You knew she’d do this. You knew it.

  His anger rose, hot and vital, but he fought it back, concentrating on the rough brick under his palms and the darkness in Alice’s eyes. “I told you not to and you promised me you wouldn’t.”

  “I know. But I didn’t have a choice, Blue. He wanted to know why I was asking questions and I couldn’t lie to him.” Her jaw firmed. “He’s my president. He’s a good man. He knew I was hiding something anyway, so it seemed like the right thing to just come out and ask him.”

  It felt like a punch to the gut, that she’d go against what the Deacons had asked of her. What he had asked of her.

  And you would have done any different?

  T
hat was the real shit of it. He wouldn’t. If Ajax had demanded the truth from him, he would have given it and not thought twice.

  She’s made her choice. It’s the Ministry.

  Yeah, she had. Which meant it wasn’t him.

  It took everything he had to push himself away from her, put some space between them. But he’d promised himself he’d let her make her choice, that he’d respect it, and he would. He didn’t break the vows he made, not even the ones he made to himself.

  “Blade said he didn’t do it?” He jammed his hands in his pockets to keep them from reaching for her.

  A crease had appeared between her brows, as if she hadn’t expected him to move away. “Yeah. And I believe him. He did ask why, though.”

  “Why what?”

  “Why I thought he’d had Priest killed.”

  An icy thread wound through him. “And what did you tell him?”

  “I’d said I’d heard rumors.” She paused, and he could see her throat move in the dim light of the alley. “That I’d gone to The Priory and overheard people talking, saying that Priest’s death was murder.”

  His hands tightened into fists in his pocket. “You fucking brought us into it?”

  Something moved across her face, but he couldn’t tell what it was. “I had to. He needed to know where the danger was going to come from.”

  Anger, hot and slow as molasses melting on a stove, moved through his blood. “Jesus Christ, Red.”

  “There’s more. He said the police report was inconclusive, that it was unlikely Priest came off his bike like it said he did. Blade knew it was murder already.”

  “Yeah, and he was the one who paid for it. And now you’ve fucking tipped him off that we know.” He knew he didn’t have any right to get angry with her, that in her place he would have done the same thing, but that didn’t make a difference to the emotion that sat in his gut, a toxic mix of anger and bitter disappointment.

  Alice moved away from the wall, taking a step toward him, which was a really bad idea right now given the possessive biker in him screaming to take her anyway and to hell with her choices.

  “He didn’t pay for it, Blue. He didn’t do it.”

  “You might believe him, but I sure as fuck don’t.”

  She took another step and he could feel her warmth now, his body so aware of her. Of the cotton of her T-shirt pulling tight across her full breasts, of the denim of her jeans molding to the roundness of her ass.

  All this was bullshit. Perhaps what he should do was push her against the wall, pull her jeans down, and tug her panties to the side. Slide inside her. Fuck her up against the bricks. Make her scream. That was simple. It didn’t involve clubs or presidents or murders or divided loyalties, or any of that messy emotional crap. Just skin on skin and mindless pleasure.

  You can’t. You promised.

  Of course he couldn’t. That would make him no better than his old man.

  “I don’t want this to start a war, Blue. Believe me.” Her bare honesty cut like a knife. “I even asked him to find the proof so he could take it to Ajax, but he wouldn’t.”

  Of course he wouldn’t; even Blue could see that. An MC president had nothing to prove, especially not to a club he perceived as weaker. He wouldn’t give a shit whether the Deacons thought he killed Priest or not. A huge problem, with Ajax ready to go postal on the whole fucking Ministry.

  She may not have wanted a war, but one was going to happen all the same.

  Tension crawled through his muscles and he wanted to grab her, take her back to The Priory, keep her safe. But she’d made her choice. He was going to have to let her go.

  Just then his phone vibrated again and automatically he reached for it. Speaking of, it was fucking Ajax again.

  He hit the button to accept the call. “What?”

  “I’m done waiting for your property to get this proof bullshit,” Ajax said, his voice as hard and flat as Blue had ever heard it. “I’m going to make a move.”

  Blue went cold. “When?”

  “Tonight. I got some intel that some of Blade’s officers are heading out of town on some kind of job, but he’s sticking around here. It’s the perfect time.”

  Ajax was right; it was the perfect time. Blade had only learned of the Deacons’ suspicions that day, so he probably wouldn’t be expecting an attack right away. Especially not when it was public knowledge the Deacons weren’t up to strength.

  “You think you can pull it off?” Blue asked. “I thought we didn’t have the manpower.”

  “I got some buddies who’re willing to help.”

  His mercenary buddies probably. “You don’t think we should wait a couple of days more?”

  “Why? If Red hasn’t got the stuff we need by now, then she isn’t going to get it. We need to take out that fucking trash, brother.”

  Blue found himself looking at Alice, who was staring back at him, her brow furrowed. Probably wondering what was going on.

  Nothing. Just preparing to annihilate your club.

  “I’ve got a problem,” he heard himself say. “Red’s with me.”

  There was a silence.

  Then Ajax growled, “I fucking knew it. You disobeyed a direct order.”

  Disobeying an order was the least of it. Because what he should be doing was telling his president what Alice had done, that she’d potentially tipped Blade off. But he just couldn’t bring himself to do it, not when he knew what Ajax’s reaction would be. “You can punish me for it later. If you’re making a move, I need to get her out of here.”

  Things had changed now. He couldn’t leave her here. He couldn’t let her go back to the Ministry, not now. It wasn’t safe.

  As if on cue, she raised a brow, clearly wanting to know what was going on. But he couldn’t tell her. If she knew what Ajax was planning, there was no saying what would happen. She’d probably want to go tell Blade, and that would land them all in deep shit.

  “You’re needed,” Ajax said flatly. “I can get another brother to keep an eye on her.”

  “No,” Blue replied, just as flat. “She’s my property. She’s my responsibility. I’ll take care of her.”

  There was another silence.

  Alice had gone very still now, the look on her face unreadable.

  “You have responsibilities, brother,” Ajax said very clearly.

  Like he needed the reminder.

  What the fuck are you doing? You’re really going to sit this out? For her?

  Oh sure, he could let one of the others take her away. Make sure she stayed safe. But he’d promised her he wouldn’t leave her again. And that was one promise he sure as hell wasn’t going to break.

  He didn’t want to think about what that might mean, so he didn’t.

  “I know I have responsibilities,” he said roughly. “But tonight my responsibility is to her.” And without waiting for Ajax to reply, Blue hit the disconnect button.

  “What is it?” Alice’s voice was faint, her face white. “What’s going on?”

  His chest hurt strangely, like a knife had been slipped between his ribs, and he couldn’t work out why. Just a week ago, everything had seemed clear, his loyalties simple. Even a couple of days ago, all he’d wanted was to avenge Priest’s murder and have Alice in his bed.

  But now here he was disobeying his president. Ignoring the responsibility he had to his club. Putting all of that second to the need he had for a woman.

  Sound like anyone you know?

  No, he wasn’t his fucking father. He just wasn’t.

  Pocketing his phone, he looked at Alice. “Get on the bike.”

  “Blue,” she said insistently. “Tell me what’s going on.”

  But he’d reached the end of his patience. “Get on the fucking bike!” His shout echoed through the alley and she flinched.

  She got on the bike, though.

  Chapter 10

  Alice leaned her head against Blue’s warm back and tried not to notice the stiffening in his muscles as she did
so, just as she tried not to pay any attention to where they were actually going.

  Perhaps she should have protested more about going with him, but the look on his face had told her he wasn’t to be screwed with. And she was getting sick of being so at odds with him.

  She didn’t know what the hell was going on, but that call had definitely been from Ajax—she’d bet money on it.

  She’s my property. She’s my responsibility. I’ll take care of her.

  Possessive words. And yet just moments before that call had come through, he was the one who’d put some distance between them, pushing himself away from her, looking at her like…she’d betrayed him.

  Can you blame him? You went to Blade after you promised not to.

  Yeah, but she really hadn’t had any choice. She was in an impossible situation, trying to balance her loyalties to two clubs. And to two different men: Blade, who’d been a father figure to her. And Blue. Her friend.

  He’s not your friend anymore. He’s more than that. He always has been. And you’ve fallen down that slippery slope again, you stupid idiot.

  Her eyes felt dry and gritty. She closed them, listening to the beat of his heart as the wind tugged her hair back and the noise of the Harley’s pipes drowned out everything else.

  She could still feel Gator’s hands on her as he’d slammed her up against the wall, could still see the fury in his eyes. If the evidence of his guilt hadn’t been enough, his response to her accusation certainly had been. She’d had her knife in her pocket, ready to use it if things got ugly. And then Blue had come barreling out from the shadows, hauling Gator off her and punching him out.

  It had taken her a couple of moments to realize that he’d been waiting for her. Looking out for her. And she knew why. The meeting she’d had with Blade had taken longer than she’d expected, so he must have come searching for her when she didn’t arrive back at The Priory.

  God. Perhaps she shouldn’t have gone to Blade with the evidence of Gator’s betrayal. But no, she’d had to. Blade had to know.

  You fucking brought us into it?

  A shiver went through her. She hated lying to Blade, and she hated lying to Blue. But most of all, she hated being caught between them.

  There were no right answers and only shitty choices. Stay with the Ministry, let them protect her from Ajax if he decided to come after her for her defection, and hope like hell Blue didn’t make things worse by coming to get her.