Midnight Obsession: A Midnight Riders Motorcycle Club Romance Part 4

by Olivia Thorne

  I needed to handle this exactly right. No good mentioning the DEA – that could spook Rodrigo and torpedo the whole deal. No, generalities were best in this case.

  Maybe not even generalities so much as a few well-placed omissions.

  “As you know, Jack Pollari’s been a thorn in my ass lately.”

  Rodrigo spat on the ground. “Fuck that maricón!”

  “Exactly. Well, his ex-wife, Sloane, heads the Bastards out of Phoenix. She clued me in that Jack’s trying to yank the club out from under me.”

  Rodrigo jerked his head towards the barn. “He do this?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You ain’t exactly inspirin’ confidence as a business partner, ese.”

  “Sloane’s willing to sell out Jack, and the Bastards will do backup on the deal – but in exchange, Sloane wants a cut of the Santa Muertes’ territory.”

  Rodrigo laughed once, a vicious sound. “Then you can tell that puta to go fuck herself.”

  “Well, what I was thinking was, we use her until the deal’s concluded – and then we off her.”

  Rodrigo frowned. “Won’t the Bastards come after us?”

  “Sloane’s running the whole show. If she goes, the Bastards will fold like a house of cards. Just to be safe, we’ll take out the club’s top brass, too. And once that’s done, you can pick up Arizona for yourself. Lots of new territory for you to sell all that meth comin’ your way.”

  “Ahhhhh… hahaha,” he chuckled, pointing his finger at me like You sly dog, you. “I like the way you think, cabrón.”

  I didn’t feel a thing about selling out Sloane. After all, if she were in the same position, she’d do the same in a heartbeat. I mean, if you’re willing to sell out a man you claimed to still love, who the fuck wouldn’t you sell out?

  Plus, in a dog fight, always put your money on the bigger, meaner dog. And the Santa Muertes weren’t dogs, they were rabid wolves.

  “I take it your faith is restored in your business partner, then?” I asked.

  He looked down at the two bodies lying at our feet. “It is if you can handle this shit.”

  “Not a problem. My guys will take care of it. Well, they might have to carve Fat Boy up into pieces, but… question is, what are you going to tell the Cartel about it?”

  “That Jack Pollari and his puta of an ex-wife did it,” Rodrigo said. “I’m just gonna need their bodies afterwards… you know, to cement my promotion.”

  “It’s a deal… El Presidente,” I said, and we both laughed as I shook his hand.

  154

  Sloane

  I was naked and in bed when I got the call from Lou.

  1AM.

  Motherfucker had no sense of work-life balance.

  “Late as this call is, it better concern a lot of fuckin’ money, Lou,” I said, putting one of the headphone earbuds in my ear.

  “It does. I just sealed the deal with Rodrigo and the Santa Muertes, and I need you and the Bastards as backup tomorrow night in Richards. Can you do that?”

  “What the hell happened to Hector and Loco?”

  “Let’s just say there was a changing of the guard.”

  “I’ll bet. What about my slice of Southern California?”

  “Rodrigo hasn’t cleared it with the cartel yet, but he doesn’t think it’ll be a problem.”

  My ASS it wouldn’t be a problem.

  “Tell him I need assurances, Lou, or I’m backin’ the other horse, you hear me?”

  “I’ll get you what you need, darlin’. But don’t go saying things like that to the Santa Muertes, you hear?”

  “I’ll say whatever I goddamn want, when I goddamn want, to whoever the fuck I want. Where’s this party goin’ down, anyway?”

  “Richards.”

  “DUH, I figured that. Where in Richards?”

  “Remember when you didn’t want to tell me where you were gonna spend the night? I think I’m gonna do the same on this one.”

  I sighed. “Fine, just as long as I get a location sooner or later. I can’t show up to a party when I don’t know the address.”

  “You’ll get it. Just have the Bastards in Richards by tomorrow at 10:30 PM, ready to rumble.”

  “What about that police chief of yours?”

  “What about him?”

  “He gonna be in on this?”

  “Fuck no. That greedy little bitch will want ten TIMES his normal stake if he knows how much money is on the table.”

  “Well, you’re gonna have to cut him in at some point, aren’t ya?”

  “When I’m good and ready. And I’ll fudge the decimal point a couple of places before I tell him how much is at stake.” Lou’s voice became suspicious. “Why the fuck do you care so much about Dan Peters, anyway?”

  “Cuz I thought your cozy little arrangement with law enforcement was part of the deal, dumbass. I ain’t lookin’ to tussle with a bunch of pissed-off cops.”

  “You won’t.”

  “And what’s my guarantee of that?”

  “Ah, I’ll have him do something on the other side of town. I’ll tell him the meet’s goin’ down in the desert, then never show up. He’ll be fine as long as I throw him five grand for his time.”

  “All right,” I said dubiously. “If you think he’ll buy it.”

  “The dumbass’ll buy anything I tell him. That’s one of the only good points in working with him.”

  “All right, then. Give me a call when you get the location worked out. And Lou?”

  “Yeah?”

  “When we’re doin’ business in the future – DON’T fuckin’ call me at 1AM.”

  “Alright, fine. Go back to fuckin’ whoever you were fuckin’.”

  “Yeah, I got to go, Mr. Dildo’s gettin’ jealous,” I said.

  Lou howled with laughter before he hung up.

  I looked over at Dan Peters, who was lying naked next to me, the other earbud in his right ear.

  I said I was in bed. I didn’t say I was alone.

  “Didja get all that, Mr. Dildo?” I asked.

  I swear, he was redder than when he came half an hour ago, though he was wearin’ just about as ugly an expression.

  “That backstabbing, lying, motherfucking – ASSHOLE,” he raged.

  “Calm down. So, we good on that deal?” I asked, and gestured over at the duffel bag full of cash sitting on the nightstand.

  Dan hadn’t been able to take his eyes off the Girls the first half of the night. Then he couldn’t take his eyes off the duffel bag after I unzipped it.

  A sucker for tits and cash. My kind of simpleton.

  “A hundred thousand upfront, then two hundred thousand minimum per month against 10% revenues in Richards and the surrounding counties,” I said. “In return for that, you make sure Lou Shaw doesn’t walk away alive from that deal tomorrow, and I get every ounce of that meth he’s tryin’ to unload.”

  “As long as I get 50% of the street sale value,” Dan said.

  “That’s, like, ten million dollars! You said 20% before!”

  “If I gotta deal with the Santa Muertes, I want 50%.”

  I could see what Lou meant about him being a greedy little bitch.

  “Alright, fine – 50%,” I said, rolling my eyes. “If need be, you’re gonna take out the Santa Muertes, right?”

  “Right,” he said as he pulled the sheet off of my body.

  “And you’re gonna be able to track Lou’s phone, right?”

  “Uh-huh,” he said, going for my right nipple like an overgrown baby.

  “And you’re gonna make sure I have that cell phone info so I can keep myself safe – right, you biiiig, strong man?”

  “Mm-hmm,” he said, sucking contentedly, his eyes closed.

  “Alright, then, get back down there,” I said, pushing on his shoulders.

  Dan Peters was a flabby, middle-aged, average-lookin’ son of a bitch with a dick about a fourth as big as I like ‘em. Not to mention he had the stayin’ power of a jackrabbit. He was in a
nd out about as quick as one, anyway.

  But sometimes a woman in my line of work had to make sacrifices.

  This sure as hell qualified as one.

  Besides, any idiot can be good with his tongue if he’ll just follow directions.

  AND he can’t talk while he does it. Another plus.

  “But – I don’t think I can do it again so soon,” he whined. He was talking about a hard-on, the last sighting of which had been half an hour ago.

  “That’s why you got to go downtown. Momma needs another big O.”

  And not a faked one, I thought, though I wasn’t about to tell Little Miss Fragile Ego that.

  Hell, if I got ONE tonight, I’d consider myself lucky.

  Might just have to do it myself.

  Never expect a tiny-dicked dumbass to do the job of a real man.

  Hell, never expect a tiny-dicked dumbass to do the job of a woman’s right hand. Or a vibrator. Or a cucumber. Or anything, basically, besides a tiny-dicked dumbass.

  As he started to get to work, I said, “To the left. Slower, dammit. And lick it like you mean it.”

  I closed my eyes and thought of Jack.

  That’d make it easier, for sure.

  155

  Jack

  I was lying in bed with Fiona the next morning, absentmindedly caressing her hair and back as she lay curled up next to me, when I got the call from Sloane.

  “I’m putting you on speakerphone so Fiona can hear.”

  “I never had me a phone sex threesome before.”

  “And you’re not going to.”

  “Spoilsport. Alright, Lou’s set the deal for tonight and I got Peters on my side now, ready to screw Lou in the ass on my say-so.”

  “How the hell did you get Peters on your leash?”

  “Don’t ask what you don’t wanna know.”

  Fiona made a face: Ewww.

  “Is Little Miss Gettin’ The Good Wood sayin’ somethin’ over there?”

  “No,” I lied as Fiona raised one eyebrow.

  “I can feel myself bein’ silently judged.”

  “Nobody’s judging you, Sloane. You did what had to be done.”

  “Damn straight. You may like eatin’ the sausage, girl, but somebody’s gotta make it. There’s a fun little double entendre in there about Jack’s big ol’ kielbasa, but I’ll leave that to your imagination.”

  Talking to Sloane was like talking to a sexed-up teenage boy with a love for puns. And it was way too early in the morning for that shit.

  I ignored her previous comment. “When’s the meet?”

  “Sometime after 10:30 tonight. That’s when I’m supposed to be ready with Tyler and the boys.”

  “Where is it?”

  “Don’t know yet. Lou didn’t trust me enough to let me know ahead of time.”

  “Well how’s that gonna do us any good?”

  “Keep your panties on, Stripperella. As part of my little bargain with Peters, he’s gonna have his boys track Lou’s cell phone. You’ll know where he is as soon as I do.”

  “Not bad,” I said, actually impressed.

  “This aint’ some two-bit floozy you’re messin’ with, Sweet Pea. I been places and DONE shit.”

  Fiona made another face. Sweet Pea? she mouthed silently.

  I waved her off. “Good job, Sloane.”

  “Alright, I gotta go wash the taste of middle-aged cop outta my mouth.”

  “Jesus, Sloane.”

  “Don’t worry, I didn’t put nothin’ in my mouth I didn’t want in there. Can’t say the same for ol’ Dan, though.”

  “I’m hanging up now.”

  “Call me if Fiona decides she wants to share.”

  “Not happening,” I said, and hung up the phone.

  “Was she like that when you guys were married?” Fiona asked.

  “She was a lot more bearable when I was drunk all the time.” I could sense something was bothering Fiona, so I asked, “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  Okay, now I knew something was wrong. I sat up in bed and looked at her. “No, seriously: what?”

  She fidgeted on the bed. “I don’t like the fact that we’re helping her out.”

  That annoyed me a little. “She’s actually the one helping us out. There’s no way we could pull this off without her.”

  “I know, I know – but we’re helping her get more territory to deal drugs!”

  “By wiping out a brutal, bloodthirsty arm of the Mexican cartel, a bunch of corrupt cops, and the guy responsible for the death of your cousin.”

  Fiona gave me an angry look. I guess I kind of stepped over the line with that last comment.

  I sighed. “Look, there are no angels in this business. If Sloane didn’t pick up the Santa Muertes’ territory, somebody else would – and as long as there’s demand for people to get high, somebody’s going to fill it. Luckily, Sloane only uses violence when it’s absolutely necessary – unlike the Santa Muertes, where murder’s the opening negotiating tactic. She’s way more into persuasion, trickery, bribery, and intimidation than she is shooting people.”

  “She’s still a criminal.”

  “Trust me – as a former criminal myself, I can say without reservation that Sloane is a much better class of criminal than just about anybody else you’re going to meet.”

  Fiona was silent.

  “You don’t have anything to be jealous about,” I reassured her.

  “It’s not just Sloane… you’re kind of withdrawn. You have been ever since we woke up.”

  It was true. She’d sensed it without my saying a word.

  I sighed and stared at the wall. “It’s because I need to do something that’s not fucking smart… but I still have to do it.”

  “What?”

  “I have to meet with the Midnight Riders.”

  156

  Fiona

  I stared at him in disbelief. “What?!”

  “I know, I know,” he said grudgingly. “But I have to. I have to give them a chance to bow out before shit goes down.”

  “They’ll kill you, Jack!”

  “No they won’t. I won’t be talking to any of Lou’s guys, or even guys on the fence – only the ones who were my closest friends. Five guys at most.”

  “Your ‘friends’?! Where were they the night Lou nearly killed us at the Roadhouse, huh?! What fucking good are they if you couldn’t count on them then?!”

  He looked tired, beaten down. “What you’re saying is absolutely right… but I was on the front line with these guys, Fiona. I bled with them. I served time with a couple of them. I rode with them. We served shoulder to shoulder in a fucking war on the streets of Richards for years. I can’t leave them hanging out to dry.”

  I could hear the despair in his voice. I felt for him – I really did – but I was panicking.

  “Talking to them could screw up the entire plan,” I said, trying not to sound accusatory.

  “It won’t. I won’t tell them anything other than to get out of town.”

  “Jack – we’re this close. PLEASE don’t do this.”

  “I don’t have a choice. I have to give them a chance to get out. If I don’t, and they all wind up in jail…” He shook his head. “If Kade and I are only ones to get off scot-free, just because I cut a deal with the DEA… I can’t live with that. I have to give them a chance.”

  I almost cried out, But what about US? Don’t you care about ME?

  But I knew he did. Otherwise he wouldn’t look so tortured.

  I wanted to give him an ultimatum: them or me. And I was sure he would pick me.

  But it would kill him to do it – and it would probably end any chance we had of staying together.

  He wasn’t doing it for himself. He was doing it out of a sense of honor.

  And that was one of the things I loved about him.

  He was an outlaw who had seen too much bloodshed and tried to go straight, however imperfectly he might have done it.

  Who was I to d
emand that he try to save his own skin and leave everybody else behind, when he’d been fighting for three years to save all of them, not just himself?

  What he was doing now wasn’t that much different than when I was willing to risk everything I had with Jack in order to find out who killed my cousin.

  Only difference was, he had the decency to give me a head’s up rather than lie to me and go do it anyway.

  I lay there in silence, thinking – and as my fear slowly lessened, I knew what I had to do.

  I rolled over in bed, put my arms around him, and looked straight into his eyes.

  “I understand,” I said. “I understand because I put everything on the line to find out who killed Ali. I owed her that. I even fucked up things between us, even though I didn’t mean to. And right now, you feel like you owe your men. So… go and do what needs to be done. I’ll be here waiting for you.”

  I swear to God, he looked down at me with more love than I’d ever seen on his face before.

  He held my face in his hands and kissed me hard, then pulled back to look at me.

  “Thank you,” he said.

  I smiled sadly. “Just promise me one thing.”

  “What?”

  “Come back to me,” I whispered, and kissed him one more time, softly.

  157

  Jack

  I felt like I was flying as I roared down the highway towards Richards – and not just because of the brand-new ride Fordham had lent me.

  God damn, what a woman. I felt luckier than I had in just about forever. Which was ironic, considering what I had in store for me over the next 24 hours.

  But with Fiona by my side, I felt like we could take on Lou, Dan Peters, the Richards PD, the Santa Muertes, the DEA – fuck, we could take on the whole world.

  Yeah, we’d been through the meat grinder over the last three weeks – but we’d come out of it on the other side. Not to mention she got me, more than any other woman I’d ever been with. A hell of a lot more than Sloane ever did. Fiona knew why I had to go do this.

  I couldn’t wait to get back to her. But before that happened, I had some shit I had to attend to on my own.