Coal (Regulators MC Book 3)

by Chelsea Camaron

  Prez goes in first, with me on his heels, and Hammer following the both of us.

  Hammer calls out in a loud voice, “BJ? Brother, you here?”

  There is no response as we move through the house, into the living room first, and then spreading out to start checking every corner.

  Hammer tries to call out again, “BJ! Lisa! Any of you home?”

  A small, muffled sob sounds from somewhere in the back, and the three of us take off racing in that direction. Past the kitchen, down a wide hallway, past the bathroom, to the last door in the hallway—their bedroom.

  The door is shut, so Hammer puts his ear to it to listen. None of us hear a thing, so Hammer tries calling out again.

  “Lisa honey, you in there?”

  This time, the sob is louder, followed by a moan, and it definitely isn’t a moan of pleasure.

  Hammer twists the knob and eases the door open an inch to peek inside.

  “FUCK!” he booms a second later, throwing the door open and running inside.

  Ice and I follow him, only to stop in our tracks at the sight before us.

  Lying on the bed in a large pool of blood is our brother. The way he has been killed is beyond horrific. Skewered, literally. A pole shoved through his buttocks vertically until it comes out of his neck, behind his head.

  Another muffled sob sounds to the left, and I see Hammer kneeling by Lisa, who is bound by her blood covered hands and wrists, with a gag in her mouth. I watch in shock as Hammer pulls out a switchblade, making Lisa flinch away, as he tries to calm her fears.

  “Don’t flinch, sweetheart. I’m just going to cut the gag off you, and then we will untie you.”

  Lisa nods then holds herself very still as Hammer cuts the gag off. The moment it drops from her mouth, she starts wailing in pain.

  “BJ! He killed my BJ! What am I supposed to do without him?” Her gut-wrenching sobs are of heartache and unbearable agony.

  Sawing at the rope on her ankles, Hammer tells her in a soft voice, “I know, honey, but you gotta stay still so I don’t accidentally cut you. We need to get you out of here and to the hospital.”

  Hammer looks over at us. “Call the cops. We’ve all got alibis, so they can’t try and pin this shit on us.”

  My stare locks with his until he breaks the look to finish cutting off the ropes.

  “We call the cops now, and then they’re gonna make it difficult for us to take this bastard out.”

  Ice snaps, “Not if we hurry and get the motherfucker.”

  I turn my head to look at Ice standing by the bed, staring at the sight of Big Jim skewered like some kind of human shish kabob. Acid burns up my throat as I look at our dead brother and hear his woman wailing for him from the other side of the room.

  BJ was one of the good guys. He deserved to go out after a long life with his woman with lots of babies, not on a stake.

  “Jesus, Lisa, how bad is it?” Hammer asks just then.

  Not realizing Lisa is hurt herself, I walk over to look closer at her bloody hands. I had stupidly assumed she touched BJ before being tied up. Now I can see, as she sobs in pain, that her fingers have been cut off. All ten of them.

  “I came home and found him with BJ, so I tried to run and call the cops on my cell phone. He caught me before I could make it out the door and said I had to pay for trying to call someone while he was working on his delicacy.”

  “Where is he, Lisa?” I ask.

  “He thought he heard someone walking up to the house, so he put a gag in my mouth and took off. But really, no one was here.” Her breath hitches, and she tries to speak through her tears. “He’s long gone.”

  Hammer snaps, “Enough talk. We need to get her help now.”

  Ice walks over to her, helping me and Hammer lift her to her feet, and then I scoop her up in my arms and carry her out of the house. I sit on the house’s front porch step and listen as Ice calls 911 and asks for the police and an ambulance while I hold a shaking, sobbing woman in my arms.

  “Coal, my BJ … The pain, he had to be in so much pain. I only came back because I forgot my waist apron for tonight.” She hiccups. “If I had come home sooner or left later, my man could still be alive. God, why couldn’t I have been back in time?”

  I feel her blood saturate my shirt, but I don’t care.

  This woman has lived, fought, and damn near died for her man. Even losing her fingers for him. Yet, she isn’t crying about her fingers as she bawls in my arms. No, she is crying for her lover, begging God to bring BJ back to her.

  Something changes in me in that moment. I can’t explain it, and I’m not sure I would if I could. Even if I didn’t put it into words, I know to the bottom of my soul that I will never be the same again.

  ~Paisley~

  Somebody is watching me.

  That’s what my senses are telling me.

  I have goose bumps down my arms and the hair on the back of my neck is standing up as I walk up to my apartment building with the rest of the groceries I need for girls’ night tonight.

  I look around the parking lot before I enter my building, but I don’t see anyone. It’s enough to give me a case of the willies.

  Walking into my apartment, I try to blow the creepy feeling off. Perhaps it was a nosy neighbor or something. I don’t know. What I do know is that I’m not going to let it get to me anymore tonight. My girls are coming over, and I’m in desperate need of time with them after this week.

  They have had a busy time trying to take care of another ol’ lady in the Regulators MC after the loss of her husband. Even though I don’t know Lisa, I sent over some crystals and a salt lamp to hopefully soothe some of her tension.

  Morgan and Desirae didn’t share what happened, only telling me it was tragic, unexpected, and has put everyone on an emotional edge.

  All of this made my mind and spirit worry for Coal. Worry is a strong emotion. Like anger and love, it has the power to manipulate our minds into the darkness rather than staying in the moment and the light.

  My spirit hurts for Lisa, and I can only hope that she finds peace in time, and that her heart heals.

  Morgan and Des will be here in about an hour, so I need to hurry and get these vegetables cut up for the veggie tray.

  Turning on the radio, I listen to music as I shimmy from side to side while I cut veggies. Cucumbers and carrots will do wonders for a body, if only I could get my girls to realize they don’t need the cookies and popcorn.

  An hour passes before I know it, and I’m just putting my homemade dressing in a bowl on the platter when a knock sounds at the door. Racing over, I look through the peephole and see Des, so I swing the door open to greet her. When I do, I see Morgan is standing right next to her.

  “Hey, you two, come on in.” I hold the door open so they can walk through with their hands full. “What did you two bring this time?”

  Morgan holds up a bottle of wine with a big smile on her face. “I know it’s not your home brew, but it is organic and local. Des and I decided this was going to be a fully loaded girls’ night. I think we all need it.”

  “I won’t argue with that,” I grumble under my breath, thinking of whoever it is that’s watching me. In fact, with my door open, I feel it again. I feel vulnerable in a way I haven’t felt in a very long time.

  Morgan and Des are looking at me funny, so I change the subject. “How is Lisa doing?”

  “Better than I would be if something happened to Ice.” Morgan gives honestly.

  “Me too,” Des adds and the air becomes thick with sadness.

  “What are we watching tonight?” I ask trying to refocus the energy.

  A mischievous grin spreads across Morgan’s face. “I heard about your trouble with that guy at the gym, so I have the perfect movie for you tonight.” She reaches into her purse and pulls out a DVD like she’s a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat. “Tada! How to Lose A Guy in 10 Days!”

  “Oooooo … Matthew McConaughey. I definitely wouldn’t want to lo
se him if I had him in my bed. And I sure as hell would need more than ten days.”

  Des laughs. “You and I both, girl. But don’t tell Hammer I said that. He’ll get all puffy-chested like a peacock and feel the need to remind me why I only need him.”

  We all laugh at the look on her face. It’s somewhere between dreamy and cross-eyed as if she can’t decide whether or not she would want that from Hammer tonight.

  Morgan shrugs. “Anyway, I figured we can watch this, then plot some shit you can pull off in front of Scotty so he won’t think you’re as attractive as he thought you were or something like that.”

  Des points at Morgan. “Are we doing our own version of Mission Impossible?”

  Morgan gives Des a huge grin back. “Mission Lose the Loser?”

  I giggle at my friends being silly and thank the powers that be that I was lucky enough to find them.

  “I know, I know!” Des shouts, “Mission Stop Scott!”

  Morgan and I both shake our heads at that one. Then I hold my hand out in Morgan’s direction, and she looks at me quizzically.

  “Give me the wine, girl. I need to be halfway to toasted for the next idea she gets.”

  An hour later, that’s exactly where I am. I am blitzed. Hell, I just might be drunk. I don’t drink a lot, and this batch of wine is hitting me harder than my home-brewed stuff. That’s probably why I find myself blurting out, “I think somebody’s watching me,” during the movie for no good reason at all.

  Morgan and Des, who are also a little drunk, both look at me.

  “Seriously?” Des asks. “Or, are you, like, about to sing that song?”

  “What song?” I ask her in confusion.

  She waves her hand in the air. “You know. That song. The one that gets stuck in your head.”

  “What song?” I ask her again.

  Des throws both hands over her eyes, yet moves her fingers so she’s peeking at us through her hands, and starts a head bob. “I always feel like …” she sings horribly off tune.

  Dammit. Now that song is going to be stuck in my head.

  “No, I really feel like I’m being followed and watched. It doesn’t make sense," I admit and even though I didn’t plan on telling anyone I find relief in doing so.

  “It’s probably your imagination. Your chi, isn’t that what you call it, is out of whack.” Morgan slurs.

  “Oh my goodness, Morgan,” I laugh at her. My friends accept my lifestyle even if they don’t understand it.

  “I think we should tell Hammer.” Des decides firmly.

  “No, it’s my problem.”

  “We’re part of a motorcycle club life, you’re our friend, you’re family. We tell Hammer and Ice, they’ll find out if there is a threat, Paisley.” Des explains like this is the most natural thing in the world.

  When my doorbell rings, I jump, only to exhale and center myself when I realize it’s only Hammer and Ice here to pick up their women. With hugs good-bye, my friends leave.

  I can’t help wondering what it would feel like to have a man who protected me and looked out for me the way those two do.

  After pulling the chain on my door, I literally shake my body, trying to shake off the feeling someone’s outside.

  “Snap out of it, Paisley,” I tell myself before letting the alcohol relax me until I fall into a deep sleep. A dark, deep sleep where I have a dark-bearded bald man promise me safety, security, and love.

  Will my life every go back to normal since bumping into Trevor “Coal” Blake? I have the feeling it’s not.

  Chapter Ten

  ~Coal~

  “Brother, get this, I think that creep from the gym is watching Paisley,” Hammer says while we sit in the office of Alibi, going over the alcohol order and supply list.

  It’s late. Normal people would be home, but the order has to get put in and it’s our rotation.

  “Why do you think that?”

  “Des told me that Paisley keeps getting that feeling that somebody’s watching her. Not all the time, but at different times. When she goes to the gym, her job—shit like that.”

  Feeling anger surge through me, I blurt out, “I will nail that motherfucker’s balls to the wall.”

  Hammer snorts. “Feeling like doing some medieval torture style shit, huh? She must be gettin’ to you, man.”

  “Swear to God, brother, you start some matchmaking type shit and I will tell the whole club you’re now wearing Des’s pink panties. Don’t fuck with me about this.”

  He laughs as he flips the inventory page and starts going over the next list. “You’re mighty fuckin’ touchy for a man who doesn’t give a shit, then.”

  I shrug. “Didn’t say I don’t give a shit. What I’m sayin’ is keep your nose out of it.”

  Even I don’t know why I care about Pixie. I’m not going to deny it. I’m just not sure what I’m going to do about it, either.

  We have enough going on in the club that I haven’t had time to sort things out with Pixie. Even though every spare moment has been helping Lisa with medical treatments, final arrangements, and deciding her future plans, I can’t stop thinking about the hot as fuck redhead and how she twists me up inside.

  Holding his hands up in surrender, Hammer says, “All right, all right. No need to get your dick in a twist about it.”

  Pointing at the sheets of paper, I ask, “We about done with this? I’ve got shit to do.”

  He nods. “Finishing up now, bro. You can take off if you want. I’m eager to get back home to Des, anyway. She’s drunk from their girls’ night tonight, and I’m in the mood for the wild woman that my ol’ lady becomes when alcohol is involved.”

  I pat him on the back. “Thanks, man. See you later. And do me a favor; tell Des that if she thinks Paisley is in trouble, to give me a call, yeah?”

  Hammer doesn’t bother to look at me, but I can see the side of his mouth move up in a smirk as he says, “Will do.”

  I leave the office, make my way through the club, and consider stopping at the bar for a beer. Thing is, I have no desire to be here right now. I’m restless, and the road and my bike are calling my name.

  Heading out into the parking lot toward my machine, I blow out a breath. Then, as I crank my motorcycle up and rev the engine, a certain quirky woman pops into my mind again. Why I can’t stop thinking about her, I have no idea. The woman is getting under my skin, and I’m not sure how I feel about that. What I do know is that I don’t like the idea that she’s scared because she thinks someone is watching her.

  That’s how I find myself driving toward her place. This isn’t the first time. I have found myself doing it quite a few times this past week. Every time I think back on holding Lisa as she screamed BJ’s name, I find myself wanting to make sure Pixie is okay. I even drive by her job and her gym.

  I don’t like the way she makes me feel. The way she’s slowly digging under my skin as if she has the right to burrow into me like that.

  What is it about the woman that gets to me? Whatever it is, in the past week, I have found that alcohol won’t make it go away and my dick doesn’t want another woman. Two more things I’m not exactly happy about.

  Thing is, as much as I’m not happy about the situation, I’m also curious.

  This could end up being a very dangerous combination … for both of us. The last time I allowed myself to get entangled with a woman, it cost both of us our future plans. Is Pixie worth that level of risk?

  It doesn’t take me long to make my way to her place where I park next to her little Prius. As I get off my bike, I can’t help snorting at her car. I can just hear her sweet, little voice telling me about how she drives that car because of her “footprint” or some shit like that.

  The only footprint I have ever cared about is the one I leave behind after I kick an asshole in the face. I sure as shit have never given a damn about any environmental shit. Since meeting Pixie, though, that’s slowly starting to change.

  The other day, I put my water bottle in the
recycle bin instead of the trash can. I could almost imagine Pixie there talking about the waste of bottles and plastic.

  Jesus, the woman is going to drive me insane.

  Yet, that doesn’t stop me from making my way toward her apartment door and knocking on it loud enough to wake the dead. From what I hear about how much she drank, I will be lucky if she hears that.

  I have to knock three more times before I hear a slurred, “Hold your horses” from the other side of the door.

  I smile at the sound of her undoing her locks, and then watch with rapt attention as she slowly opens the door with a confused look on her face.

  Leaning against the doorframe for support, she says, “What in the world are you doing here, Trevor? It’s one o’clock in the morning!”

  Pushing past her, I don’t bother to wait for her to invite me inside. I just walk into her living room while saying, “Heard you thought someone was following you. I’m sleeping on your couch to make sure you’re okay.”

  Sitting down on her small couch, I cringe at the thought of sleeping on it. But I made my so-called bed, so now I have to lay on it because I sure as hell don’t think Pixie is going to let me lay on hers. If she did, there would be trouble for both of us.

  “Sexy man on my couch,” she slurs to herself, closing the front door. “Not even gonna lock the door if he wants to play knight to my damsel in distress.”

  “Pixie, not here playing any game.” I study her. “Lock the door.”

  “Oh, he gets all large and in charge telling me what to do,” she again says to herself. It makes my dick hard thinking about being in charge of her.

  “Pixie, how much did you drink?”

  Her eyes grow wide as if she has just realized I’m here. “A lot, which is why I think I’m dreaming.”

  She saunters over to me, and I stand up from the couch. Standing in front of me, I look down as she smiles up at me. Her right hand comes up, and she pinches my waist, making my abs flex instinctively.