by Ann Jensen
Undercover In the Dark
Dark Sons Motorcycle Club - Book Four
Ann Jensen
Published by Blushing Books
An Imprint of
ABCD Graphics and Design, Inc.
A Virginia Corporation
977 Seminole Trail #233
Charlottesville, VA 22901
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©2021
All rights reserved.
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No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. The trademark Blushing Books is pending in the US Patent and Trademark Office.
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Ann Jensen
Undercover In the Dark
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eBook ISBN: 978-1-63954-062-4
Print ISBN: 978-1-63954-063-1
v1
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Cover Art by ABCD Graphics & Design
This book contains fantasy themes appropriate for mature readers only. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual sexual activity.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Epilogue
Ann Jensen
Blushing Books
Blushing Books Newsletter
Chapter 1
I would give my right tit for a pair of Superman’s glasses right now.
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One year ago.
Avery fingered the gem on her ring nervously. The temptation to hit the panic button was becoming overwhelming. None of her contingencies covered what was happening. She should have been on her way to dinner to arrange a meeting with a new client. A bigger fish than she was used to dealing with. The man was an infamous information broker and human trafficker known as the Recluse. Instead, she was alone in the back of a luxury limousine with three goons who looked at her like she was dinner.
No one knew where she was and her backup was sitting in the restaurant, probably wondering where she was. A year of undercover work and she was only weeks away from the largest take down of her career. What had started as a sting to bring down one of the biggest drug suppliers in Denver might lead to capturing one of the FBI’s most wanted. It was that fact that made her hesitate to call for help. If she blew her cover for anything other than to save her life, her supervisors would have her ass.
Avery gestured out the tinted windows. “This is not the way to Nicolo’s,” she snapped, filling her voice with irritation rather than the genuine fear she felt.
Mateo Lopez and his two men had met her in front of her car near her fake apartment, claiming to need to talk to her before the meeting. She’d had little choice but to get into the limo with them.
“Mr. Thomas had an opening in his schedule, so we are going to meet him now.” Mateo’s smile wasn’t comforting.
“You said the meeting was next week. I have none of the information I need with me.” More importantly, she didn’t have a swarm of DEA and FBI agents waiting in the wings, ready to arrest the man.
Mateo’s chuckle was mocking. “I am sure you’ll be fine. After all, Ms. Garcia, it’s no different from the work you’ve been doing for years. Correct?”
“I don’t appreciate surprises. Up to now, our business has been extremely lucrative for both of us. What I do takes time and planning. If Mr. Thomas can’t be patient, then I have no interest in working with him.”
“Oh, he’s a very patient and well-connected man.”
The view of the city disappearing into highway outside the limo’s windows made it clear they were leaving Denver. Avery knew she needed to do something soon if she had any hope of salvaging the situation.
“That may be but I’ve been very clear I only meet in venues of my choosing.” She gestured out the window. “I don’t do business like this. Have your driver drop me off. I’ll call a car for myself. If Mr. Thomas wants to work with me, he has to follow the same rules as everyone else.”
“Your money laundering skills are amazing. Almost too good to be true.” Mateo pulled a gun from his holster by his side.
She pressed down on the gem in her ring, activating the panic button. Help would come, but it would probably be too late.
“That is completely unnecessary.” She nodded at his gun. “There is no such thing as too good in my business. I am careful and I don’t get caught, that’s why you hired me.” Staying calm with a gun pointed at her and two thugs on either side was hard.
For the last year, she had pretended to be the daughter of a dead cartel member. The DEA had made sure they protected her at all times as she wined and dined drug and gunrunners. She had stayed cool with each encounter because she had the safety net of backup. Threats, lewd suggestions, none of it had bothered her. Here in the back of this limo, all of that bravado failed her. Her stomach twisted as predictions of what could happen to her flickered through her mind.
Hatred blazed out of Mateo’s eyes. “I hired you because your references were impeccable. You never asked questions and always delivered what you promised.”
“Then why the theatrics?” Avery said through gritted teeth.
“Mr. Thomas is more connected than I am. He was disappointed to find out that the FBI knew all about our transactions. In fact, he found out exactly who you are, Agent Perez.”
Fear turned to terror as she realized she wasn’t just in danger of being exposed, they had blown her cover wide open. That it was a leak in the FBI was a bitter pill. Bringing them in to the case last month had been a risk. Undercover operations could be exposed with a single wrong word, but so close to the end her superiors had thought the extra help was worth the risk. A poor decision she was going to pay for with her life.
Avery kicked out, the heel of her shoe catching Mateo in the wrist with the point of the stiletto. She tried to reach for her own gun, but the two men sitting next to her grabbed her arms. She was well trained by the DEA and an expert in several martial arts since childhood. None of that would overcome the disadvantage of the small space or the size difference of the large men attacking her. Even knowing it was pointless, she struggled, bit, and clawed at the men trying to hold her down. Only when they had her pinned face down on the seat with a knee in her back, did she finally give in to the inevitable.
“If you kill a federal agent, there will be nowhere you can hide.” Tears of frustration pricked at her eyes, but there was no way she would let them see them.
“Oh, they will look for you, bitch. You’re a dirty agent who shot her partner, stole millions and took off with her Russian lover. You might even make their most wanted list.” Mateo’s words were like ice against her spine.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” She bucked against the man who pinned her down.
“We’ve known who you are for a
month. Setting you up was child’s play. Besides, killing you is too easy. No one betrays me and gets a painless death.”
“You shot Nate?” Her partner had been a gentle man, not really suited for the line of work they were in. No one would believe she had turned on him. They had been friends almost since she graduated from training and started with the DEA. Had they really killed him? She didn’t want to picture a world without her partner’s easy laugh and corny jokes.
“Not personally. But he is dead. I paid Mr. Thomas a pretty penny to make sure the evidence will show you did it. I’m going to enjoy watching everyone turn against you.”
She bucked up against the man holding her down. “You bastard!”
“I’m going to enjoy breaking you. Me and my men are going to spend days making you pay for your betrayal. The beauty of it, if there is enough of you left when we get bored, Mr. Thomas will make a profit off of selling you to someone who will enjoy you no matter how broken.”
Bile rose in her throat. She shook her head. There was no way she would let this asshole break her. She would find a way to make them all pay.
Chapter 2
We walk in the darkness so you can enjoy the light.
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“Fuck, I always forget how hot this fucking gear is.”
Max looked over at his Brother Ink and rolled his eyes at Rooster’s whining. The team of twenty men from Dark Sons Motorcycle Club were all decked out in the same gear. Black cargo pants and Henley shirts with Kevlar vests, helmets, and face masks to protect both their bodies and identities. The mission they were on was righteous, if not legal.
A nasty piece of shit called the Recluse had held Sharp’s old lady, Pixie, prisoner. He was a man so bad he was on the blacklist of every alphabet agency. Back when Max had still been an Agency man, even he had tried to find the fucker. So using her information to raid his properties was karmic justice. What he did to women, what had happened to her, was the stuff of nightmares.
Pixie had handed them the info they needed to rid the world of this asshole, and they would not hesitate. There was no red tape, no bullshit, or hidden agendas. That was just one of a hundred reasons he had faked his own death and signed up to become a Dark Son. The unflinching dedication of every man standing outside the warehouse, ready to end this asshole, validated his choice once again.
“I’ve got eyes inside,” Tek said over their coms. “Twenty-two hostiles roaming ground level. Five hostiles in the basement with over twenty lambs. Bravo Plan in thirty seconds on my mark.”
Hawk, their president, raised his arm and began the count. The door blew open and his unit moved. Through the back and off to the left, where the stairs to the basement were. Gunfire sounded in the distance, but Max stayed focused.
One man exited the top of the stairwell and his and Ink’s bullets put the man down before he even saw them coming. Easing down the stairway, Ink was in the lead. The short hallway they entered was like some strange version of an asylum. Graying sidewalls held four padlocked doors with observation windows. The end of the hall had a double door that looked to be barred from this side.
Each window gave a horrible view into Hell. Naked, bruised, and terrified women huddled on cement floors. Max clenched his teeth, wanting to free these women now but knowing they needed to clear the enemy first.
“Fucking Hell.” Ink’s curse had Max on high alert. The Texan was creative in his language, but rarely allowed an actual curse word to escape. Leaning to the side, he gazed into the room at the end of the hall.
The space displayed through the small windows was much larger than the cells they had passed. Shackled to the center of the floor by a chain was a naked woman covered in bruises. Unlike the other women in the cells, she didn’t look defeated. Instead, she crouched in a fighting stance, almost daring someone to attack her. Four hostiles circled just outside her reach, using pool cues to strike at her. No sound came through the door, but the smiles on the men’s faces said they were laughing.
The woman had a feral beauty and grace to her movements. Her red hair whipped around her as she turned with a snarl clear in her face. If she wasn’t chained in place, Max didn’t doubt she would do some damage before they ever laid a hand on her.
“I’m gonna open this door on three,” Ink drawled. “Max and Hannibal, you take out the trash.”
Max shouldered his weapon, ready and eager to follow his Brother’s command. The doors swung open and allowed them to both surprise the occupants and to enter two by two. The sound of their rifles in the small room was loud and echoed but within seconds four men were bleeding out on the floor.
It would have been more satisfying to take their time and make the scum suffer, but unfortunately vengeance wasn’t the purpose of the day. Safety of the victims and finding the man behind the operation was.
“Zone three clear heading to Zone one,” Ink’s Texan drawl came from behind Max.
“Zone two clear lambs secure.” Gear’s calm words echoed over the coms.
“Zone four clear minor casualties.”
“Zone one is still hot. Three hostiles remain in the northern quadrant, one lamb.” Sharp’s voice was tight followed by an explosion. Long seconds passed. “Zone one clear.”
Max let out his breath, confident that all he had to worry about was the mess in front of him. The room was clear of hostiles and had no other entrances. The woman, crouched on the floor, had picked up one of the pool cues her abusers had been using. He had to admire her tenacity in finding a weapon even while chained naked in the middle of a gunfight.
Max slung his weapon to his back and tried to look less aggressive. “It’s okay, wildcat. You’re safe.” He held up his hands to try to calm her. Her gorgeous eyes were wide with the instinct to fight. As beautiful as her wild defiance was, she would need to settle if they were going to get her safe.
“You secure and calm her down, we’ll free the others.” Hawk’s deep voice filled the room.
Max didn’t take his eyes off the beauty in front of him, knowing she was unpredictable in this heightened state of fight or flight. He nodded and heard his Brothers step out of the room.
“Who the hell are you?” The woman’s voice was scratchy and deep, as if she’d hurt it by screaming.
“We’re the good guys.”
She snorted. “Good guys don’t wear black combat fatigues with no markings and hide behind face masks.”
It was tempting to flip up the face shield to put her at ease, but it wasn’t just his safety he would be risking. “Today we’re the good guys.” Max took a step forward.
She jumped back, wincing but held her weapon steady. He stopped, not wanting her to hurt herself more.
“Stay back or I’ll take your dick off,” she snarled.
Her resistance shouldn’t be hot, but it was. Bruised and chained to the floor by her ankle she still radiated danger. Her muscles clenched to fight showed, despite her lush curves, she was no weakling. She was a warrior ready to do battle. He had to respect the strength it took for her not to back down.
Max smiled. On the wall to his right, he saw a keychain hung on a hook. “I’m sure you’d try.” He walked over and grabbed the keys. “How about I unchain you?”
Her eyes narrowed, and she nodded. She shifted her stance so her chained ankle was forward. Max walked over and found the right key. The snick of the lock was a welcomed sound.
Her muscles tensed and gave him just enough warning to block the blow aimed for his head. The helmet would have absorbed most of the hit, but he wasn’t taking any chances. Max swept his arms behind her knees, knocking her off balance and tumbling to the floor.
He had to scramble to catch her before her head had an unfortunate meeting with the concrete. He might not be willing to take a blow, but he didn’t want her to have to suffer more injuries. Pain shot up his arm. The devious minx bit him! Max flipped her over, using his body weight to pin her face down to the ground.
She bucked and wiggled under him, cau
sing his body to react in completely inappropriate ways. He loved the struggle for dominance between a man and a woman. The more violent the struggle, the better, but only if both parties were having fun. Unfortunately, his dick wasn’t as picky as his brain and was now hard as steel.
“Problems?” Hannibal’s Louisiana twang was filled with amusement.
Max gripped the woman by the hair and used all his weight to pin her motionless. “The wildcat here doesn’t seem to understand this is a rescue.”
She tried to buck him off but only managed to grind her naked, plump ass temptingly against his cock.
“You’ve got your dick rubbing against my ass like a hopped up Chihuahua and I’m supposed to be grateful?”
“You need help with that filly?” Ink’s Texas drawl let him know the annoying duo were witnessing his struggles.
“No, I’m good.” His words were bitten out through clenched teeth.
Hannibal’s laughter did nothing for his temper. The fight to keep this professional was getting harder. His mind and body fighting over what to do. He kept his emotions under tight lock down because when he let loose people got hurt.
She kicked her feet and squirmed. Enough was enough. He smacked her ass, hard.