Athena's Raid: Book Two Perdition MC
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He chuffed a laugh, stroking his fingertips up and down her spine, across her shoulders, twisting at an awkward angle just to steal a kiss, picturing her tiny little self, going after a guy twice her size with a bat. Made his dick hard and his lips curl in a proud grin. “I do. So what’s wrong? Aside from the bed sucking,” He was a snob now, she’d turned him into a mattress snob. “It does suck. And I’m just thinking.”
“About?”
She sighed and sat up, pushing her hair over her shoulder while she drew her knees up and rested her chin on them. Then her cheek when she turned her head to look down at him, then shifted to put her chin in her hand, elbow on her knees. Like she was so keyed up that she couldn’t keep still, and didn’t know how to sit to get comfortable. “I didn’t think anything of it until a little while ago. He was drunk, the autopsy report said his blood alcohol level was .10, which honestly for him was nothing. He left my place, walked down the stairs straight, didn’t fumble his keys or weave or anything. When the phone rang a few hours later, I didn’t recognize the number, almost didn’t pick it up. Thinking it would be another gross mouth breathing session. But it wasn’t.”
She was talking about her uncle’s accident. About the night he died. Fuck. “The night I was driving back from Tahoe, got one of those untraceable, heavy mouth breathing calls? I knew it was him, Denny. He said that to me, first time he ever did anything except huff and puff into the phone.” He sat up, rubbing his hands up and down her arms, touching a kiss to her shoulder, wincing a little when she sniffled. “Said what, baby?”
“Your guardian angel, won’t always be watching over you.”
A chill scraped up his spine at her whisper, and he felt her skin prickle up, felt the splash of a tear on his arm and took her back down to wrap himself around her while they started to fall a little faster. “My uncle was gone three weeks later. Rosie too.” It wasn’t a stretch to imagine someone like Dickless committing a murder. Wasn’t a stretch to imagine that a guy who had two DUI’s on his record and pushing the edge of a third, wouldn’t get a thorough investigation done on his car accident, especially with a BAC over the legal limit. Wasn’t a stretch, because he hadn’t even looked that deep, but he would now. He’d pick that fuckin case apart with a microscope. “What’d you mean, that you’ve got eyes on him at all times?” He pressed a dozen kisses to her face and held her close, “Gotta house full of prospects doin nothing to earn their keep. Got a few in the apartment next to his to track his movements, tracking his car through the traffic cameras. Few other things I’d rather not mention, in case anyone asks.”
“The legit-ish, side of the business?”
“Mm hm.”
“Raid?”
“Hm?”
“I know you’re a bad ass guy who knows how to handle his shit, I know I’m being paranoid. But do me a favor, please?”
“Anything,”
“He killed my uncle, and my dog, and made it look like an accident. Please don’t underestimate him because he’s not special. He’s smart enough where it counts, and I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”
Laying in the spill of moonlight, he stared at the wall, his cheek pillowed on her soft hair, feeling her tears sliding down his chest slowly. Rage was a hot burn, just below the surface of his skin, warring with the breath stealing sensation of being ass over fuckin ears in love. He drew a deep breath in, the smell of seven years gone, of PineSol, and the soul soothing scent of rosewood and geranium. Athena had foregone wearing any other scent, or washing with any other flavor of stuff she made. At the end of the day, after being saturated in the green, earthy, sometimes downright pungent scents of her shop, she would wash it all away and slather on her rosewood and geranium lotion, smiling at him in the mirror of her girly vanity while he watched. The vanity mirror Dickless Denny had shattered. “Trust me, Athena. I’m not going to do anything to risk this. We’ll get him, one way or another, but not in a way that’s going to cost me you.”
He tipped her head back so he could see the sparkle of her eyes in the moonlight. “I promise, I won’t underestimate him. I love you,” She sniffled, curling her hands on his chest, over the tattoo on his skin, trying to make herself smile, make him smile. “More than Cruncher loves me at breakfast time?” He brushed his lips over the tip of her nose, neither of them speaking louder than a murmur, “More than anything.”
“I love you too.”
“More than Cruncher loves me when I feed him people food?”
He could hear the dog’s tags tinkle, a loud snorf following his question, meaning that Cruncher had woken up either to the sound of his name, or the mention of the contraband people food. “I wondered why he races up to you like you’re his long lost boyfriend. It’s bribery.” He grinned at the growl in her tone, but after a quick tickle to her side, and a gorgeous squeal that accompanied her writhing and rubbing her tits all over him, she admitted with only a slight pout, “Yes, Raid. More than anything.”
THIRTY ONE
The prospects had done a really good job cleaning up the house. A really good job, but the smell of gasoline lingered in the bedroom, despite the mattress and the carpet having been replaced. The spot where their white leather lounge had been was glaringly empty, it wouldn’t be gone unless it had been destroyed, and the thought of that made her lips wobble. Even though it was replaceable, it made tears well to see the empty space. She sucked it up, trying to pin point the source of the gas smell, needing it gone. It was the drapes, and she got on finding someone to replace them, immediately. But the second Raid had stepped outside onto the porch to take a phone call, suddenly the cozy little house seemed like an Iron Maiden. Closing in on her and crushing her with spikes that injected an irrational feeling of fear deep into her psyche.
She loved the barn like place, loved the decore, loved the yard outside, but Denny had taken the safety, the feeling of home and sanctuary away from her and made her feel like he’d pissed all over the place and left a lingering stench of his presence, every nook and cranny a reminder that he’d walked right in and destroyed everything. She wasn’t necessarily afraid of him, per say, just the ability he had to walk in, totally unseen, unpunished and undetected, and walk right back out.
She did not, in any way shape or form blame Raid, or any of the other guys who’d repeatedly apologized to her for not taking better care to protect her. They were busy, she knew that, when she’d asked, Roar had very easily offered up an explanation on what they were working on. The entire club, was working on finding the actual person who’d murdered two of their own. Susan and Pike. She felt like that took some precedence over her issue, but that’s not how they saw it.
Despite the fact that it was her ex, and her problem, the entire club, Perdition, down to the newest prospect moping the floors as a way to get his foot in the door, took it as a personal insult. Like Denny had walked through the gates of the compound, and taken a shit on the front porch. Nasa, the biggest white guy she’d ever seen in her life, seven feet of pure, Viking throwback bad ass, had towered over her with his tattooed arms rippling and fire flashing in his icy blue eyes and assured her, ‘he was going to put his boot so far up Denny’s ass, every time the fucker swallowed he could taste shoe leather on his tongue.’
Despite the fury of that growl, and how big the guy was, she had fallen instantly in sisterly crush with him. She’d been unable to stop herself from giving the guy, who looked like no computer nerd she’d ever met, a hug. Her face had hit him just above his navel, and it had been like hugging a solid block of concrete that smelled faintly of pear jellybeans. She’d gone out to the closest store after that and brought him back a three pound bag of pear jellybeans and a case of Red Bull. The rest of the guys had gotten home made cookies the next day. “Babe? What’s with that face?”
She whirled around in shock, pressing her hand to her chest while she white knuckled the hold she still had on Cruncher’s leash. She blew out an unsteady breath and made to answer, but Raid’s jaw clenche
“Athena, get your sweet ass in the truck before I spank it.”
They spent the rest of the day driving around to different properties. Until he turned into the driveway of a place sitting on five acres, four of them taken up by fresh tilled soil. There were ten raised stone garden beds around a gorgeous pool, a giant oak tree with the remnants of an old swing on a thick branch that faced all that beautiful space. It was a barndominium with a luscious open floor plan, a gorgeous kitchen, twenty foot ceilings, a master bed and bath of her dreams, a dog trot pool house that could be converted into his and hers workspaces…not to mention an electric fence that surrounded the entire perimeter attached to a state of the art alarm system.
It was like a dream come true, situated halfway between the nursery and the compound, private, but not completely cut off from the world. It was perfect. She’d rolled her lips together to stop herself from demanding to have the place, to put the money she had left after the sale of her house and after the move, down to buy it. Whatever it cost. She should have controlled herself better, because when she turned around, Raid was signing some kind of document and the realtor had a huge grin on her face. “Raid-“ Her voice came out a hoarse croak, and she clung to his hand with both of hers while her heart pounded, “My finance guy will get in touch with you this afternoon. I want to be in here by the end of the week.”
And they were.
First thing she did, was replace the swing.
THIRTY TWO
First Thursday in Austin. Was there anything more awesome than this? The entire length of South Congress was taken up by vendors. Craft vendors, jewelry vendors, artisans, craftsmen selling handmade furniture, handwoven rugs, produce, pretty much anything one could fit inside a truck and then set up under a tent on the street, it was there. The smell of food from all genres was tantalizing, and she was so coming home with a hundred pounds of kettle corn. Cruncher was wearing his bumble bee outfit, and as pittie friendly as Austin was, he was not the only one wearing a cute outfit. If the girl dogs had opposable thumbs and cell phones, Crunchie would have taken home a bumble bee butt full of names on napkins. Squatch had stayed home, he didn’t do well in public, and seeing as how this was a ladies only outing, Ever hadn’t wanted to try to wrangle her neurotic dog and her adorable son at the same time.
Ever had Lyon in a stroller, which was also being used to haul their smaller purchases. They’d had lunch on the patio, under the misters at Guerro’s. Hands down the best Mexican she’d had yet, and enjoyed the people watching while they’d caught their breath and talked about what they were going to take on for round two. She was going for one of the hanging hammock chairs, while arguing under her breath with Ever about how she was NOT putting a sex swing up in the oak tree in the back yard. “Fine, fine. But I’m telling you, it’s the shit.”
“I believe you, but I’m not putting it in the back yard. Stop the bus, kettle corn just got bagged up fresh. Saw him do it.”
She put her three bags of kettle corn in the second stroller seat behind Lyon, aka Mr. Grabby Hands, and went to toss her empty drink cup. A hand clamped down on hers when she went to drop the plastic cup in the trash, and she immediately laughed because Austin was super green and someone was probably going to chew her ass for not recycling. But her laugh came out as a strangled little sound when she looked up to see the person who had hold of her.
He kicked his feet up onto the coffee table in what was now his very own, personal man cave. It was only an 800 square foot room, but it was his. The only place on the property where Athena hadn’t argued with him about the paint color. The color of the floor rugs. The style and color of their furniture. He wasn’t complaining about those arguments, not at all, because it usually turned out to be one of those times, where Athena had her say, and her way, and then he had her. Repeatedly. He loved her boho kind of style, how there were pieces of artsy shit all over the place, mixed in with the sleekness of the modern fixtures and the leather couches she’d insisted on. He’d tried to give his input, but the reality was he liked leather, motorcycles, black, and manly shit. Athena liked that too, but not to decorate the house in. He didn’t care, honestly, so long as she was happy.
But having his own space within her boho world of greenery and weird girly shit, was heaven.
He’d gone with dark red walls, black leather couches, big ass flat screen that took up half the wall, surround sound theater style speakers, every gaming console known to man, fridge full of beer, space for his brothers to kick it with him, and a covered deck out back where he’d be able to build himself another bike if he wanted to. “I’m building one of these for myself.” Roar stated firmly, seated next to him playing Assassin’s Creed with a focused frown on his face. “What for? It’d turn into a nursery for Ever to drop the kids at in like, five minutes.” Saint grunted, sucking on his beer bottle while he tried to sneak up behind Roar and kill him. “Fuck you, bro. Lyon would dig it. Teach him how to throw darts or something.”
“He’s barely a year old.”
“So? Never too young to start figuring shit out.”
The two of them bickered about whether or not it was right to let a one year old, play darts. If there was a kid friendly version, and whether or not Nasa would kick their ass if they asked him to check. They were busy, almost at like, level twenty or whatever. He smiled, because if not for a random twist of chance, he wouldn’t be sitting here with his brothers, listening to them dicker like an old married couple. The girls were out shopping, the boys were back home enjoying the break. What could be better?
Roar’s phone rang, and he scowled, muttering under his breath about man time, “Babe, I’m in the middle of a game. Whatever it is, just buy it.” That was how most of the conversations between Roar and Everly went, she’d ask him his opinion on something, he’d shrug and tell her to get it if it made her happy, Ever would bitch at him for his lack of input, they’d argue, she’d wind up buying it and they’d make up. Loudly. Way they went at it, he wouldn’t be surprised if Roar ended up with ten kids. “What? Get the kid in the car, head for the compound. I’ll meet you there.” He hung up, and the look that settled over his face, Raid’s guts turned to water. “Athena’s gone.”
He blew into the compound like a hurricane, and Top intercepted him before he could descend on Ever to demand to know what the hell had happened. Caught him around the chest and bodily hauled him down to Nasa’s station in the basement, the guy was hunched over his keyboard, eyes moving at light speed over the fifteen big ass monitors that made up his information highway. He didn’t even have to ask, “Got her on the security cameras leaving Congress with Woodward. He got her at a trashcan, has either a gun or a knife, because she went quietly. Let Cruncher go, and he went straight back to Ever with a two second pit stop to sniff some trampy poodle’s ass. Ever looked up here,” He pointed to a screen that covered the street where Athena had been taken from, “Looked for Athena, didn’t see her, Cruncher appeared and she was on the phone to us. Ruckus and Gee were on Woodward, lost him for two minutes in a parking garage, in those two minutes he stole a late model Taurus. No GPS, following it on any street camera I can get an angle on, they’re following soon as I can give them direction.”
He pulled his hand down his face, laced his fingers behind his neck and dug into the muscles there, doing his best to take deep breaths, stay calm and not give in to the panic, to the adrenaline rushing like battery acid through his veins. Crowded fucking street in broad daylight, and because he still had his fucking uniform, no one had questioned the cop detaining a suspect and moving her down the street. Jesus. “She hurt?” He forced out between his clenched teeth, and Nasa looked up at him briefly. “Watched him take her down the street and two blocks over. Took her into the alley the car was parked in front of for thirty seconds and came back out with her hands taped in front of her. Didn’t see her favoring any limbs, torn clothes or blood.”
Top squeezed his shoulder hard, a calming presence when he wanted to tear out of there on a rampage. Tear the city apart looking for her. But this was their best chance at getting to her on time. Had to be patient. Had to be smart. Had to do what was best for her. Had to stay calm. Had to be patient. Had to be smart. He repeated it like a mantra, over and over, breathing slow and deep, taking in so much oxygen that he felt dizzy.
The phone rang, his heart jerked up hard enough to bruise against his ribs, and Nasa took a hand off his keyboard long enough to slap the speaker, “Talk.” He ordered, and Ruckus’s voice filled the cave of computers. “We’re on the sedan.” A breath whoofed out of him hard, spots edged in his vision, “Is she okay?” He demanded hoarsely, and Ruckus didn’t fuck around. “Rode past on her side, she saw me while he was making a turn, gave me four fingers. Didn’t see any bruises or blood from the shoulders up. Hands are tapped. Waiting for Gee to get the truck to me, we’ll swap and go again. We’re taking turns following him so he doesn’t get wise. We’re on Burleson, he’s heading either for 183 or the backside of the airport.” Top nodded next to him, hands up under his armpits, his beard jutting straight the fuck out. “Don’t fuckin lose them.”
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