The Sinner Within (L.A. Sinners MC Book 1)

by J. L. Leslie

  “I enjoyed lunch. Thank you,” she says, placing her helmet on the back of my bike.

  I take it and grip her wrist, pulling her toward me as I rise up. My lips find hers for a gentle peck that quickly turns into much more. Our mouths meld together in a heated kiss, her free arm winding around my neck. Damn, those tits of hers press against my chest, soft and perfect.

  I’m still holding her wrist, but I cup her ass with my other hand, and she whimpers. Fuck, yes. I keep her firmly held to me a moment more, enjoying her taste, and then I slowly release her. Her lips are swollen, chafed slightly from my five o’clock shadow.

  “I’ll see you soon,” I promise her, and she nods despite rejecting me at lunch. I get her bags out and hand them to her, and she heads to her house.

  I strap my helmet back on before riding off. I head straight to the clubhouse, eager to get a few hours in at our weight room. The fight is set for next weekend. Quick, I know, but we needed to get it done fast so we could reap the benefits of the cash it will bring in.

  I go to my room and change into a pair of gym shorts and tennis shoes first, not bothering with a shirt. I grab a couple of waters from the fridge and then head to the weight room that’s built onto the garage.

  Mack and Ford did a great job of expanding this clubhouse while I was locked up. Why Ford wanted to venture into Verdana and to some fucking farmhouse is beyond me. Everything we need is right here in L.A. The garage is fully functioning, large enough to hold all of our bikes and was stocked with supplies until yesterday.

  We have this weight room with exercise equipment and punching bags built onto the side of the garage as well. No club wants members who can’t handle themselves. We patrol our territory, provide protection for businesses that pay for our services in those areas, and we need to be prepared for any situation that may arise. We are not the only club in L.A.

  From what I have seen since returning, the Sicarios have been inching onto our territory, testing the waters, but they haven’t made a move. The lines are still drawn and haven’t been crossed, but it’s a constant battle in a city like this. It always has been.

  There are dealers, suppliers, and other clubs all wanting to be on top. All wanting respect and needing to maintain their product and cash flow. Ford’s mistakes have made us appear to be weak, and we need to show L.A. that we aren’t.

  I start on the treadmill first, getting myself warmed up, then I strap on a pair of gloves and head over to the punching bag. I get a good three hours in before anyone disturbs me.

  It’s Harco. He limps inside, and I feel sorry for the bastard. Getting stabbed in the dick had to fucking suck. The guys rag on him all the time, asking him if it still functions. According to the gossip from the club whores, it does. Well, most of the time.

  “I’ve got some stuff on the Riders,” he tells me, holding a laptop in his hands. “The family didn’t all leave town like we thought. Some are still here in L.A.”

  He sits down on a weight bench and opens the laptop. Pictures are on the screen, and he starts clicking through them, showing me several pictures of women of all different ages.

  “I’m still working on getting an ID on everyone,” he says. “This one here is Suzanne Garnett. Her son was one we burned to death. And that one there is Heather Noonan. Her old man was a tough one to kill. Ford thought he had some intel on the Sicarios, so we kept him here in the garage for a bit before slitting his throat.”

  I tell him to stop clicking, and I take the laptop from him. I stare at the screen. At the brunette who’s holding the hand of the little girl. The man with them is smiling down at the kid, and she’s gazing up at him. She’s the spitting image of him. It’s not her I’m worried about or even him. It’s the woman.

  Harper is in this photo. She’s the woman holding the little girl’s hand and the man in the photo is Gavin Mason. He’s the man I was convicted of murdering.

  Harper

  I wait outside the school at my usual spot, and the kiss I had with Lucien is still running through my mind. I don’t want to keep replaying whether it was wrong or right.

  Gavin has been dead for over three years. I vowed to get revenge for his death, and that hasn’t changed. I haven’t forgotten why I joined Hell’s Fury and what our goal is. I will get my revenge and getting close to him only makes it easier for me.

  But for a few moments, I tell myself it’s okay to imagine he isn’t the enemy. That it’s okay to tell myself that it was okay to enjoy his kiss. To want to feel his lips on mine again. To like the way he tasted.

  “How was school?” I ask Layla when she runs up to me.

  She starts talking a mile a minute, and I have to tell her to slow down, she’s so excited.

  “Can I stay with Jessica next weekend? She got a new puppy, and she showed me pictures on her phone, and it’s so stinking cute, and I really want to play with it, and her mom and dad said it’s okay if it’s okay with you! I really want to go! I can’t go this weekend because she’s going to her grandparents, but they said I could next weekend and for the whole weekend!”

  She managed to get all of that out in one breath. I laugh at her enthusiasm. How can I possibly deny this kid the opportunity to go play with a puppy?

  “I don’t mind, just be sure to behave for Jessica’s parents.”

  She squeals and wraps her arms around my side, squeezing tightly. “I love you! I love you! I love you!”

  “I love you, too, baby.”

  As we walk home, she continues to tell me about this puppy that Jessica has and how she can’t wait for next weekend to come. I wait on her to ask me to get her a puppy, but she doesn’t. I’m glad I don’t have to break her heart and tell her no. With me working at the diner and never knowing what shift I’ll have, there’s no way we can get a dog. I can’t expect Mackenzie to babysit a dog too.

  “If you go ahead and do your homework and get your bath, we’ll go out for dinner,” I tell her, feeling guilty that I can’t get her a dog when I know she wants to ask me for one.

  “I’m on it!” she says excitedly and tosses her backpack on the table.

  “We’ll even take the bike!” I add, and I see her face light up.

  We rarely take my bike anywhere. It was actually Gavin’s bike. I know she loves it. I should take her places on it more. Let her know that although he’s gone, she can still be close to him. I don’t want her forgetting her dad.

  I clean house while she does her homework and gets her bath. I have to go into work at ten p.m. tonight, so it’s best if I get it done now so I can sleep some tomorrow. I certainly didn’t do much sleeping today.

  “I’m ready!” Layla is practically bouncing.

  “Go get your helmet out of your closet,” I instruct, making a mental note to get her a new one soon.

  When she comes back, she has it and is ready to go. I’m surprised it still fits. We go out the back door and to the shed where the bike is. It starts right up, just like I knew it would. I’ve been doing the upkeep on the bike since Gavin died, but only because he’s shown me how to take care of a bike since I was in high school. Told me I didn’t need to depend on a man for shit like that.

  I ride us around town a little, letting Layla enjoy herself before I stop at Mario’s Pizza. It’s one of Layla’s favorite places, and I know Gavin used to bring her here. She honestly doesn’t remember too much about him. She was only four years old when he was killed. I do my best to tell her stories about him though.

  We take a seat in a corner booth and order a large pepperoni with extra cheese. Layla wants a vanilla milkshake, so I let her order one, and I get a strawberry one.

  While we’re waiting on our pizza, a few men come inside, all of them wearing matching leather vests. They’re not Sinners. They don’t have Sinners emblazoned on the back. These vests have two guns on the back of them. I have no idea who they are. I’m sure Mackenzie would know. I really need to step up my game, learn more about the world I’m in now.

  “Mario! Wh
ose bike is parked out front?” the one in the front calls out.

  Mario, the owner, nods his head toward me. Layla and I are the only other people in the restaurant, so it’s pretty obvious.

  The group of men turn toward us and approach the booth. I place my arms on the table and lean forward, effectively blocking Layla from view. I don’t shy away from them or show any fear. They would probably get off on that. Most bikers love the fear they illicit from people.

  “Nice bike,” the same man says. “I know who it used to belong to. He your old man?”

  “Something like that,” I answer.

  “You should come to 515 Racketeer Street next Friday at midnight. Your old man’s memory just might be honored.”

  “Thank you.”

  He gives me a slight nod, and then they leave Layla and me to ourselves. Our pizza is delivered, and she quickly forgets the bikers that interrupted our night. Unfortunately, I don’t forget, and I want to know what’s happening next Friday at midnight.

  Chapter Ten

  Lucien

  I lean against my bike, waiting outside Harper’s house. She walks onto her porch, closing her door behind her and shoving a paperback into her purse. When she turns around, I can see that she’s surprised to see me here. I didn’t exactly tell her earlier that I would see her again tonight.

  “What are you doing here?” she asks.

  “I remember you saying you had to be at work at ten tonight. I thought I would give you a ride.”

  She’s hesitant, but she does come over to me. I stand up as she gets closer and I hand her the extra helmet. Her helmet. After she straps it on, I lean over and give her a peck on her lips. I leave it at that, a simple kiss, and then I climb on my bike.

  I wait for her to get on behind me before I crank it up. I ride off, doing my best not to rev my engine too loudly since she lives in the suburbs.

  It only takes me a few minutes to get to the diner. It seems pretty busy tonight, but I don’t see any sign of the little shitheads that were bothering her before. I had Harco track them down and send Ian to give them a little message for me, so I doubt they’ll be back.

  “Thank you,” she says, her voice breathy as she takes her helmet off and hands it to me. “You don’t have to make a habit of that though.”

  “You could give me your number,” I offer. “And then I could let you know when I’m coming.”

  She smiles, putting her number into my phone, and I debate on telling her who I am right then and there. It’s possible she already knows. If she knew anything about Gavin and the life her old man was living, then she should know who I am.

  Then again, I didn’t know he had a kid. That seems to be a part of his life that he kept secret. So, maybe Harper wasn’t part of his club life. Maybe she has no idea who I really am and who I was accused of killing. If she did, I’m certain she wouldn’t have anything to do with me. She’s already hesitant of getting involved with me.

  “Are you coming inside?” she asks, and I shake my head.

  “I have some club business to take care of. I’ll be back when you get off.”

  “I can get myself home,” she tells me.

  “I know you can, Harper,” I smile and ride off as she’s walking inside.

  I head to meet Warren and the supplier the Rykers used. I’m hoping we can come to an agreement and I can finally start getting product flowing for my club. If I can, then Warren has told me he may have some high-end buyers. I can finally get things on track for the Sinners.

  I spot Warren when I pull up at Wakeford & Sons. He gives me the rundown on how Jeremiah Wakeford operates his company as we walk inside. It’s a manufacturing and shipping company for textiles. Apparently, the company is a front and a damn good one. Jeremiah Wakeford ships the cocaine right with the carpets he manufactures. If one of his trucks is stopped, no one is the wiser.

  Should he decide to work with the club, we’ll receive our product right here at the company and on his trucks. We make our deliveries to our buyers after we make deliveries of his actual product to legit businesses. We return the trucks and keep up appearances as truck drivers, so we don’t draw suspicion to Wakeford & Sons.

  “Mr. Wakeford, I appreciate you taking the time to meet with me,” I tell him after Warren makes the introductions.

  “I’m certain Mr. Mathis has told you how I run my business, Mr. McNamara.”

  “Yes, sir, he has.” I don’t add that Warren told me he’s a dick.

  “He tell you that I require a favor before I’ll consider doing business with you?”

  I nod my head, somewhat annoyed that I have to complete some bullshit favor before he’ll even consider agreeing to working with me. I would like his word up front that I’ll have his product, but I’m not in a place where I can make demands at this time.

  “A couple of my trucks are in the impound lot downtown,” he explains. “And I need them back. There’s product on them and it’s going to get fucking discovered if I don’t get those trucks back.”

  “By the impound lot, you mean at the police garage?”

  “Yes, at the damn police garage. My drivers apparently didn’t tell me they had outstanding tickets and were driving with suspended licenses. Get them for me, and we’ll talk about doing business together.”

  He makes it sound so fucking simple. Break into the fucking police garage and steal some damn delivery trucks. Yeah. I’ll get right on that.

  Fuck me.

  Harper

  I clock out and tuck my book inside my purse. It was a little slow tonight, so I had time to get a few chapters in. I tell Donnie goodbye before pushing the door open to leave. I’m slightly disappointed to see Lucien is not waiting for me outside. He said he would be back and he’s not.

  I shouldn’t be surprised, and I definitely shouldn’t be disappointed. Men make promises they don’t keep all the time. Gavin promised he would be okay. He wasn’t. That’s a broken promise I’ll never forget.

  The only person I can count on is myself and my girls. They’ve never let me down. So, I push thoughts of both Gavin and Lucien out of my mind and walk home alone.

  Mackenzie has Layla ready for school when I get there. I make her pancakes, and we eat breakfast together, and then I walk her to school.

  When I get back, Lucien is sitting on my porch. He stands when I reach my door. I haven’t made eye contact with him yet.

  “I apologize.”

  I shrug. “I told you not to make a habit of it. No biggie.”

  “I know, but I told you I would be back and then I had a meeting that ran late.”

  I wonder if he’s telling me the truth or if he was off fucking some club whore. I know there are women like that who love hanging around the clubs. They used to chase after Gavin like crazy. He never really saw the importance of them, but I did. They were practically the backbone of the club. Them and the old ladies were who held the club together really. So, if he was with one of them, it wouldn’t surprise me.

  “I won’t be getting used to you picking me up for work and then bringing me back home, so it’s fine. I’m a big girl,” I tell him and walk inside. He follows right behind me as though I invited him in.

  “I like to keep my word when I give it to someone, Harper. Damn it, I came to apologize.”

  I turn around and face him. “It’s too early for this, and I need to shower and sleep. I’m sure whatever meeting you had, it was really important to you.”

  The corner of his mouth tilts into a smile, like he knows what I’m insinuating. I’m pissed that I sound jealous. It’s none of my business what or who he was doing really. He’s the president of the Sinners.

  “I like that you’re jealous, Harper,” he tells me, and I shake my head.

  “I am not jealous. I get that you’re the president of the Sinners and I know how this works. You can do whatever and whoever you want, Lucien. You don’t have to answer to me, and you don’t have to ride me around.”

  “I have to figure out
how to get two trucks out of police impound,” he explains.

  I arch my eyebrow at him and lean down to take my shoes off. “You could just pay the fines. They typically release them once the fines are paid.”

  He burst out laughing. “Pay the fines. Holy shit. That never even crossed my mind.”

  “Sometimes things are just simple, Lucien,” I tell him.

  “Yes, sometimes things are just simple,” he agrees, and he’s on me so fast I barely have time to process what he’s doing.

  His body slams against mine, lifting me as he moves us backward until my back is pressed against the wall. His chest presses against mine and his hand catches me underneath my thigh, lifting it over his hip. His erection presses against my core and I groan against his lips.

  His tongue invades my mouth, sweeping over mine and tasting me. My nails dig into his shoulders, and I rise onto my tiptoes on the foot that’s still on the floor. The friction between our jeans is hot and delicious, and I’m sure my panties are soaking wet.

  He nips at my bottom lip and then drags his mouth from mine, over to my neck and then up to my ear. Is it possible to come while fully dressed? Because I’m pretty sure that I’m going to have an orgasm while this man dry fucks me against my wall.

  I feel something vibrating, and in my blissful haze, for a split second, I think it could somehow be me, but then Lucien curses and lowers my leg to the floor. His lips leave my skin, and he backs away from me, answering his phone.

  I stand there, my back pressed against my wall, my skin on fire. He’s calm and collected as he talks on his phone. I’m in such a daze that I don’t even process what he’s saying. I just want him back over here doing what he was doing with his mouth.

  When he hangs up, he comes back to me and gives me a soft kiss on my lips and then my forehead.

  “I’m sorry, Harper, I have to go. I’ll see you soon.”