by Blue Remy
Amy couldn’t control her burst of laughter at the question. Steaming the milk in her steel pitcher, she cleared her throat before she answered. “Mace.”
“And that makes you look like you’re constipated and being spoon fed castor oil to wipe that horrid expression off your face?”
“That was question two.” Amy gently spooned the froth onto the espresso after she poured in the milk. “Yes, that makes me look constipated. Whipped cream?”
He rolled his eyes, which were green today. “No, I have to watch my girlish figure, duh. Fine, question three. Why does he make you look that way?”
Adding whipped cream to her own cup, she sprinkled cinnamon over both their drinks and handed off Antonia’s to him. “Because he worries me.”
Antonia took the cup, cocking his head to the side, his red lashes fluttered as he rolled his eyes once more. “How can that stud worry you?”
“You’re using up your questions, Antonia. That was four.” Licking off some of the cream, she curled up on the opposite couch after kicking off her boots. “I’m not sure. I guess we’re getting too close, too quick.”
“And that’s a bad thing?”
“Five. Yes, it is.”
Antonia’s glossed lips narrowed into a thin line, showing Amy just how aggravated he was getting with her. “Fine. Question six. How is that a bad thing? Most women would kill to have what you have right now.”
Amy crinkled her nose as she stared at her cup, thumb running along the rim while she debated on how to answer Antonia. “He’s dangerous.” Lifting her eyes, she met Antonia’s, one shoulder lifting then falling. “He’s sexy, smart and dangerous. That’s a bad combination to put together. He’s going to hurt me, I know he is. I just can’t keep away from the flames.”
“You’re falling for him.”
“Seven. Yes, I think I am.”
Antonia shook his head. “Afraid not, girlfriend. That was an observation, not a question. Seven would be, have you two done the horizontal mambo? The sheet tango? The bowchicabowow?”
Amy just about spit out her coffee with Antonia’s question, choking it down to wipe her eyes free of unshed tears of laughter. “You are horrible, Antonia. And I’m going to say that was question seven, eight and nine. And yes, we have.”
Antonia bolted up into a sitting position; brows arched high as his head cocked to the side. “You’re serious? How was it? Was it worth it? Spill the deets chicka!”
“Ten, eleven and twelve.” Amy grinned wickedly at her friend. “Yes, I’m serious and it was well worth it. Mace is,” she paused, trying to find the right words. “He’s attentive and controlling and wow.”
“Controlling?” The hint of worry wasn’t hidden in his voice.
“Thirteen, and yes, controlling. Dominant. Not like Demon, at all. He’s violent and mean and abusive. This is so Mickey Rourke Wild Orchid controlling.”
“Meow. Can I start purring now?” Antonia threw up a hand, pointing at Amy, “And that was so not fourteen.”
Amy giggled, pulling her hair out of her eyes. “I purred enough for the both of us. Trust me.”
“You’re falling for him, aren’t you?”
“Fourteen and yes, I think I am.”
Antonia popped his gums, craning his neck from one side to the other. “Mmm, think you are?” With pursed lips, he dragged his eyes over her. Smacking his lip gloss, Antonia rolled his eyes. “I’d say you’ve already fallen.”
* * * *
Mace helped Romeo at the grill, okay, tried to help him. Romeo was still stand-offish with Mace, which was going to drive him mad. Romeo had become a close friend, but he needed to know what the hell happened with their house. He had no choice but to call Jones and get them out there to look around before the local department covered it up. Stone may have a few on the inside, but Mace bet this hit deeper pockets.
“Are you done being pissed at me?” Mace spoke low enough for Romeo to hear, glancing around as he took a swig of beer.
Romeo glanced sidelong at Mace, then turned his attention back to the chicken. Grabbing the basting brush, he dipped it into the beer marinade and brushed it over the golden skin of the poultry. “I’m not pissed off, Mace. I’m concerned at the fact you’ve put my family and this club in the limelight.”
“Agent Jones won’t do that.” Mace moved around to force Romeo to look at him. “I can’t prove it just yet, Romeo, but I think the Sheriff is bought by the Temer Gallo. Your house is in his jurisdiction, and his brother is the lead FBI agent for Santa Barbara County. That means evidence can be easily compromised.”
Romeo stilled as brooding green eyes stared out over his aviators. “That’s a pretty big accusation right there, Mace, without proof.”
“Which is why I asked Jones to look into it before the FBI got their hands on it. Especially after the shop was vandalized. Notice how you guys haven’t heard shit about that since Miguel gave you the information he did?” Mace hated to play devil’s advocate, but it was necessary with this. “Only you know, Romeo. I think you have a plant in the club.” He lowered his voice to a whisper, emphasizing the seriousness of the situation.
Romeo’s brow twitched, jaw flexing with jerking movement when he turned over the chicken, letting Mace know that he had hit his mark. “I’ve thought that for a while.”
Mace slowly nodded. He knew Romeo had thought it was him, and boy was he right. Mace put all his money on Demon. He had the violent personality, the cold, hard, flinty eyes, and the women that had the bruises to prove it. No, that wasn’t enough to throw him in jail for building a bomb, but it was enough to make Mace suspect that he would put not only Amy in danger, but Stone. Demon wanted the president spot and Mace gathered Demon would do everything and anything to get that title, even if it meant killing them.
Agent Sam Dean didn’t sign on to protect the Six-Gun Outlaws, he signed on to bring them down, but it sure as fuck wasn’t going that way. How did everything get so damn discombobulated? Where did he stop trying to lock up Stone and take down the club? When did he start giving a fuck? He broke his promise. That was all there was to it. He finally lost that tiny piece of Sam locked away inside him. What the hell was he going to do?
Looking up from his beer, he glanced around the barbeque area. Everyone but Amy was there. Maggie said they were busy at the shop, and sure, he was upset she wasn’t there, but he wasn’t going to get in the way of her job and business. Stone kicked back, beer in hand, talking to Saber and Talon while Axe and Hawkeye gave Dalton shit. The Ol’Ladies milled about as other members played horse shoes and snacked on whatever treats were lying around. It was a happy moment. Relaxing, it screamed family.
In five days, he was going to take this family apart. He was going to bring it down all the way to the foundation. And the woman he had fallen in love with was going to hate him for the rest of her life. Granted, she would never see him again after, he’d make sure she’d never make it past his iron gates at the ranch, but a rather large confrontation was coming and he wasn’t looking forward to it. He wouldn’t blame her, but he had to figure out a way to let her know that his love had never been a lie.
Feeling his pocket vibrate, he sighed, setting the beer down. It was his burner phone. Reaching in his cut, he pulled out the phone and nudged Romeo. “It’s Jones. I’ve got to take this call.”
Romeo nodded and picked up his beer.
The only reason he let Romeo know was because of the sneaking around he had to do. No one else needed to hear the conversation he was about to have. It would place him in a predicament that he didn’t need.
Mace hit the accept button and placed the phone to his ear. “Go.”
“It was a homemade pipe bomb. No signature letting us know who it was. It was a pretty rudimentary design. We couldn’t lift any fingerprints, no hair or fibers. It was as if it was made in a bubble or by someone who had no hair or fingerprints in an airtight room.”
Mace listened, a frown forming. He turned his back further to the p
arty, “You’re telling me it was clean? You couldn’t get anything off of it?”
“Sorry, Sam. It was the most basic pipe with a remote detonator. It was activated by a cellphone, and no, it was a burner. We tried tracing the numbers. We’re under the impression that James’ daughter was the intended target.”
“I’m pretty sure she was the target and always has been. If she’s out of the picture, it would be easier if someone could take over because Stone would back out the moment anything happened to her.” Mace’s gut screamed Demon. It had to be him. He saw the motive, but why Amy? It didn’t make sense, especially since he wanted her so badly.
“Who the fuck are you talking to?”
That growling voice wasn’t hard to identify. Demon. Ending the call, he tucked the phone back into his cut, zipping the pocket closed. Drawing a deep breath, he turned around with a purposeful slowness, to face the seemingly angered Demon. “None of your fucking business.”
Mace brushed past Demon, who snaked a hand out, grabbing Mace by his forearm. Mace was brought to an abrupt halt, his eyes flicking down to the hand that held him there. He slowly lifted his gaze to meet the cold black stare of the sergeant at arms. “Might I suggest you get your fucking hand off my arm before I remove it?”
Demon squeezed harder, his eyes narrowing, lips drawn into a tight smile. “Try it.”
Mace was no longer a prospect. If he wanted to stomp a mudhole in Demon’s ass, he could with no repercussions. What happened between brothers, stayed between brothers. No one would interfere in the fight, unless one was about to die, and at this rate, he was going to kill Demon. Mace knew how he got when he fought, he would black out, and that was when shit got real.
Drawing in a deep breath, Mace closed his eyes, shutting every emotion down. Reopening his eyes, peripheral vision took over. He saw only Demon’s smug face. Stepping into Demon, shifting his weight toward the large man, Mace bent his elbow at the waist. Jerking back, his elbow sank into Demon’s ribs. Air gushing out of that ass’s mouth was reward enough. Demon let go of his wrist to double over in pain, allowing Mace to walk away.
That was short lived.
Mace was face planted before he knew what hit him. Demon had an advantage. He was bigger than Mace, but he wasn’t as quick. Mace quickly covered his head with his hands as Demon sucker punched him. Demon’s weight on his ribs didn’t help either.
With a grunt, Mace palmed the ground, pushing up; he was able to get up enough to thrust his hips to the side, sending Demon’s ass down. Quick roll and scramble to his knees, Mace launched himself at Demon, tackling the surprised male backwards into the dirt.
Spitting dust out, right fist sank into Demon’s cheek bone, his knuckles cracking under the pressure while he pulled it back to follow through with a left hook. It never made contact; his head snapped back, the loud crack of his teeth knocking together echoed through his head as his brain bounced off his skull.
Lucky fucker got in an uppercut Mace never saw coming.
Shaking his head clear, tiny lights danced in front of his eyes. Scrambling to his feet, he faced off with Demon. This wasn’t going to be fun, and he was going to hurt in the morning. Mace saw Demon shift his weight forward, a tell he was about to swing. Mace leaned back as the hammer-like fist swung toward his face, a frog’s ass hair from making contact with his jaw. It was enough to throw his body forward, giving him enough momentum to swing with everything he had. Right fist connected with Demon’s cheek bone, blood splattered when Mace’s fist split Demon’s skin wide open.
Follow through. Jab to the kidney’s with the left, dodge a fist.
Mace felt the tension around him, knowing the brothers wouldn’t interfere. They were nothing more than a blur in his vision. He launched once more toward Demon, but was stopped short by a boot to the ribs. Flying back, his hips slammed into a picnic table.
That was going to leave a bruise.
Trying to breathe was next to impossible. That ass hat broke, or cracked, a couple of his ribs. Fucker was going down. Mace was done playing. Stalking toward Demon, fists were clenched and hanging at his sides. His face must have had a look on it that resembled death, because Mace swore Demon paled.
“Mace!”
He heard someone calling his name, but he wanted more than just Demon’s blood on his hands. He wanted his life.
“Mace! Enough!”
His right arm lifted and swung forward. Keeping his arm level, the inner bone of forearm slammed into Demon’s neck, just under his jaw, right at the brachial nerve.
Stunned, Demon hit his knees, gasping for air.
Mace felt two or three people grabbing his arms, pulling him back from Demon, throwing him to the side. Stumbling, Mace blinked several times, looking around him. Romeo was next to him, actual concern on his face, a red faced Stone was yelling at Demon to get the fuck out of there, he didn’t want to see him until Church. Saber and Talon were to Mace’s left and right.
“I don’t need them to protect me. I’m not a bitch.” Mace growled, unhappy at being pulled off Demon.
Romeo shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest, his voice flat. “They’re protecting Demon from you.”
CHAPTER 20
Saber confirmed what Mace suspected. Two cracked ribs.
That shit hurt.
Mace allowed Saber to wrap him up before he left the barbeque. He wasn’t in the mood to stay and be all cheerful. He was pretty surprised they felt the need to protect Demon from him though. It made him feel a little bit better about beating that ass. Demon would retaliate. He didn’t earn that road name being all warm and fuzzy. As he left the barbeque, Stone stopped him and told him they had scheduled Church the next day at one o’clock sharp.
Avoiding Amy was easy enough. He locked himself in his room and stayed there. She had avoided him like the plague today, and he was a bit upset by it. What was good for the goose was just as good for the gander. Mace was sure Stone and Romeo would fill her in on the fight, if the distraught Maggie didn’t first. He had seen her glares when he left, though he didn’t understand why. When Demon fled the scene, he literally threw Maggie away from him, tossed her helmet at her and told her to find her own way home.
That’s a real winner for you.
Mace was being a spoiled rotten baby and he knew it. Amy struggled with her feelings; he watched that war play out on her face when she didn’t think he was looking. He wasn’t stupid. Maybe a day or two of space between them would solve the problem.
Absence made the heart grow fonder, right?
He arrived at the clubhouse, parking his bike at the end of the line. It was a damn dreary day, overcast and threatening to rain. He hated riding in that sort of weather, but bylaws dictated you had to ride your bike to every club event, including Church. Cut was over his leather jacket, a cool fifty degrees with moisture wasn’t exactly t-shirt weather.
Pulling off his helmet, he set it to the seat, nod given to Saber when he pulled up and swung his bike around, walking it back into the next parking spot. Once the motor was cut, he leaned back against his bike. “Waddup?”
“Nadda, man. How’s your ribs, slugger?” Saber pulled off his helmet, shaking the golden mane free. “Better yet, how’s your arm?”
“I took the gauze off the other day and started letting it breathe. Seems to be doing good.” Mace pushed off the bike, falling into step beside the medic. “How the fuck do you fit in a wagon with your big ass?”
Saber’s laughter was deep and rich like his voice. He pulled back his hair and tied it off. “Me and Thorne, my partner, aren’t exactly tiny, so we have the bigger wagon to drive.”
“I’d say so. How fucking tall are you?” Mace was a measly six foot and Saber stood a good half foot taller than him.
“Last we checked, I was six seven.”
Yeah, Mace would shit if he tangled with Saber. The man wasn’t a tiny six seven either. Fucker looked like he could bench press a damn car, and his hands were meat cleavers. It was hard t
o imagine him as a medic, but he was the best in the county. Mace had firsthand knowledge and Saber was an amazingly gentle giant.
“Damnit son. And how tall is … Thorne, you said?”
“She’s six one and built like a brick shithouse. She’s my gym partner too, and at times, I swear she lifts more than I do.” Saber snorted, yanking the door. Before they went through, Saber shouted at his baby brother, Dalton, who was just as star studded glamorous in the looks department as his brother. “Yo, Dalton! Get ta pourin’ that Jack!”
Whoa, okay. Interesting. He had never known a female to be called that. “Thorne is a girl?” He hated to sound ignorant, but it was a first. “Are you sure? She could be like Antonia.”
Saber barked in laughter, patting the top of the bar, waiting for Dalton to pour two Jacks. “Her real name is Espina Lopez. She’s Maggie’s baby sister, and she doesn’t take after Maggie either. I called her Thorne because she is a thorn in my ass half the time. Even her badge says Thorne.”
Mace was curious how she wasn’t like Maggie. One obvious clue was she enjoyed the gym. Maggie was the goddess of curves that looked damn good on some women, and she was definitely not that tall.
The Chapel Room’s doors swung open, Romeo whistled for all patch holders to come to congregation. All phones were turned off and placed in the center of the round table; all guns unloaded and left lying on the table as well. Taking his seat, along with everyone else, it didn’t go unnoticed they were short a member. Demon hadn’t arrived. Quirking a brow, Mace glanced to Saber, who just shrugged and shook his head.
“Where is Demon?” Stone frowned, looking to each member sitting at the table.
No one could answer the question.
“Someone try and get him on the phone. Now.”
Romeo scooped his phone out of the pile and turned it on. Pressing a few buttons, he put the phone on speaker. Directly to voice mail. Romeo quirked a brow and glanced at Stone as he ended the call, then turned off his phone and tossed it back to the pile.