by Amy Isan
Burn (Ruin Outlaws MC Romance #5)
Amy Isan
Published by Amy Isan, 2014.
~*~*~
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
Burn (Ruin Outlaws MC #5)
First edition. July 26, 2014.
Copyright © 2014 Amy Isan.
Written by Amy Isan.
Cover design by Erin Dameron-Hill / EDHGraphics
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
CHAPTER 1 — RIFLE
CHAPTER 2— CASSIE
CHAPTER 3 — LOGAN
CHAPTER 4 — CASSIE
CHAPTER 5 — LOGAN
CHAPTER 6 — CASSIE
Also By Amy Isan
About the Author
CHAPTER 1 — RIFLE
This shit has gone on long enough I don't know what set me off, but I know I can't handle it anymore. Ever since Logan showed up at the Ruin Outlaws' bar and started acting like he owned the place, it just made Daniel... Surge - push me that much harder.
For what? To take over the club? He knows I never gave that much of a shit about it. He pressured me into joining in the first place. I figured it was just a reason to fuck around, and an excuse to own a bike and crash at my friends' places on road trips. Maybe have someone bulky and huge to block traffic, so I didn't have to worry about getting t-boned by a sedan full of rowdy and annoying kids going to get pizza.
I slap a fly off my arm and part the blinds to stare outside my house. No one is there. There's never anyone outside my place. Except for Logan stopping by, that fucking idiot. If the Skeletons saw me not put a slug in his chest, they'd do the same to me. Rattlesnake is all they talk about when we go to our club meetings anymore.
The crew is definitely more hard edged than the Ruin Outlaws though. It's almost weird being brought into the fold and accepted. Before, I was always just told what to do. Fuck, the first time I saw Logan he punched me in the fucking face! Surge just let him too, he didn't even fucking punish him for hitting another club member. What kind of bullshit is that?
They told me to leave. Of all the fucking things. And Surge wondered why I didn't visit him that much when he was in the hospital. Fuck him.
The guys in the Skeletons accept me, even if they are a bit... rough around the edges. And even if it took some convincing.
. . .
My hog rattles and groans as I pull it into the back alley parking lot that hides the crews' bikes in the shade during meetings. I can't believe Petrol never had a god damn umbrella or something to keep our leather seats from turning to lava in the sun. All we did was eat shitty burgers and greasy fries while Surge tried to rant about loyalty and building a crew to take over the state. I shut my hog down and go up to the door leading inside the building.
Inside, the rest of the crew is just gathering together. No ratty pool table, no strange smell in the air. Well, maybe a little stale beer, but nothing off-putting. The first member I see, Anchor, gives me a nod and a hard slap on the back. The guy is built like an anchor, so I definitely see where his road name came from. The rest of the guys are all gathered around an actual table, with Zero at the head finishing a joke with another crew member, Smoke.
"... So I just slapped her on the ass."
Smoke bursts into laughter, but I completely missed the beginning of the joke. I take my seat between King and Implode, who sit near the back of the table. They both are pretty quiet guys, but I've been keeping to myself too, so they don't ask a lot of questions and I don't have to ask answer any either.
Zero eyes me and he gives me a wicked grin. I chuckle a little since he's still glowing from laughter, and he opens his arms in a sweeping gesture. "Looks like Rifle decided he was tired of cleaning up the public pool after all," he says. I shrug as the other men chuckle and laugh with him. I feel on the spot, which I don't like. I grit my teeth and ball a fist under the table, hoping no one can see my tension.
He's right though. After he gave me my leather cut in the desert and we rode back into town, he told me to go home. I was stunned, but he explained that they didn't want to bring a newbie into the club just yet, especially after just jumping ship from the Ruin Outlaws. He sent another man, Nail, to come tell me I was in the clear a couple of days later, and here I am. It's the first time I've really seen all the guys outside that first ride out of the desert, and I don't know why Surge played up the size of their crew and experience.
While a lot of the men look grizzled and older, complete with scarred tattoos and gray hairs, their crew isn't much larger than Ruin Outlaws. Only by a couple of people. But the atmosphere is different, less juvenile. It's nice to not walk in on Petrol and Sword fucking wrestling with each other and trying to spill each other's beers. I sit back and smile a little, which Zero must think is me admitting I'm glad for the change.
"Haha, I knew you'd stick. It wasn't a hard decision was it?"
I'm supposed to answer him at this point, which I dislike. "Not at all," is all I say, hopefully shifting the subject to something else. He leans over the table, still far away, and looks at me expectantly.
"That's it?"
I shrug and shake my head. "What's to say? You guys certainly seem more put together. I didn't want to end up in trouble when the Ruin crew eventually fucked up."
"You got that right," Zero says. He points at me and nods. "Now, for what we came to talk about..." He gazes past everyone to the wall and thinks for a moment. "Rattlesnake's been missing for the last couple of days."
Gold, a man with a huge beard, clears his throat and shifts in his seat uncomfortably. Zero narrows his gaze on him. "Gold, you got anything to say?"
"I visited his apartment like you told me to, and he didn't answer."
King, the only Hispanic man in our crew, shakes his head. "Maybe he's sick?"
This doesn't sound good. According to what Smoke was telling me the other day, Rattlesnake was one of the most reliable members of the club. He never missed church, but he was one of the oldest members of the club. Maybe he fucking kicked the bucket?
"Rifle? You seem full of thought," Zero says, furrowing his brow. I can't tell if he's trying to goad me, and I'm so on edge from being used to Surge and the kids all the time, I immediately lash out.
"Maybe he fucking died," I blurt out. Zero sits up and looks stunned. A hush settles over the group and I shake my head. "I don't fucking know what happened to him, why should I? Am I his nurse or something?"
Anchor pulls out his cellphone and ignores Zero's look of disdain. He holds up his hand to try and stave off the incoming punishment. "Let me at least see if he got arrested or something, shit."
After a few taps on his phone and a couple of minutes later, he shakes his head. "No, nothing in the arrest records."
Zero holds out his hand, "Give me that," he commands. Anchor hands over the phone and Zero stares at it for a minute, before tapping his huge fingers on the screen. I don't even know how he hits any of the right keys. Not that I've had a chance to use one of those fancy gadgets before. My cheap flip phone gets the job done, and keeps me from getting traced. I don't know why Zero would let Anchor carry that thing around, it just seems dangerous for the crew's safety.
"Let's see," Zero says aloud, "Nick Henry..." his mouth contorts and sweat beads on his reddening face. "He's dead."
"What the fuck?" Nail says, standing up and knocking over his chair immediately. "Dead? How the fuck? Why didn't we know until now? How many fucking days was he missing?"
Gold answers, "Three days." He looks at me, as if I had something to do with it. I shrug and blow air out the side
of my mouth.
Zero's eyes scan the screen and he murmurs. "Murder... north end... some chick's apartment."
"What apartment?" I ask. Everyone turns to me, suddenly very interested in what I have to say. I shrink back a little, trying to seem less eager. "I might know..."
"Doesn't say, just mentions Rivervue Apartments."
"Fucking shit," I was hoping I was wrong. It's Cassie's place, it has to be. The chick Logan was fucking around with. "God dammit."
"What?"
"You know the chick I told you about, that Bomb was fucking? She lives in that complex."
"You're saying some chick gunned down one of our members?" Zero says, smashing his hand on the table. Anchor stares at Zero's hand. Anchor's phone is still clenched tightly in Zero's fist, and Anchor looks like he's about to pass out. Zero releases his grip on the phone and lets it fall to the table with a clatter. Anchor sweeps it back up and coddles it like a baby. What an idiot.
"No, I doubt that. I would guess Bomb was responsible."
"What the fuck was Rattlesnake doing out there anyway? Why didn't he tell anyone?" Zero's face is turning red. "Someone has to pay, and all I'm hearing is that the Ruin Outlaws just fucked with the wrong crew. We warned them not to sell, and they gun down one of our members? This isn't a fucking joke, Rifle."
I hold up my hands in defense, or surrender. I'm not even sure anymore. "I fucking know that. But..."
"But what?" Zero says, shutting me down. "Don't tell me you sympathize with them, we can still kick you out of this club and add you to our shit list, Rifle." Zero turns on Smoke, his rage building with every second. "Why the fuck didn't you do something when you were watching Bomb's apartment? You were right next to him, and that woman!"
"I didn't fucking know he killed a guy!"
"You should have known! One of our brothers is dead and I'm feeling pretty unforgiving right now. Smoke, I'm blaming this shit on you. It was bad enough you fucking got ran off by him and let him take your god damn phone." He slams his fist on the table in front of Smoke and makes him jump. "For fuck's sake Smoke. He's just a fucking kid."
"He had a god damn gun, what was I supposed to do?"
"Be fucking useful." The rest of the crew starts fighting, arguing and trying to shout above each other's voices. No fists are being thrown, yet.
I shake my head. What the fuck are they doing? I thought they were better than this, or at least, more composed. I don't really give a shit if Rattlesnake is dead or not. Not because I only saw him once, but because it sounds like he fucking ran off on his own accord.
"Why the fuck didn't we hear about this sooner?" I shout above the ruckus, before leaning back in my chair. At least I feel like the only person who isn't losing his shit right now. I have to match everyone's energy, they're all wound up and about to go unhinged.
Anchor picks up his phone before Zero can do anymore damage to it and flicks the screen. "The article says the police locked the report down due to 'suspected gang-related activities' in the case. Since nothing's come up, they've only just told the press."
"Fucking christ. This shit happen often in this club?" I ask. I immediately regret it when all the men's eyes turn on me. A hard lump grows in my throat and my mouth goes dry. I eye Smoke's empty beer next to me.
"If you don't fucking like how we're dealing with a brother getting murdered, maybe you should fucking leave, Rifle," Nail says. "This is serious shit, and we need to do something about it."
"Like what? Kill one of their members? It was his fault he got killed, what was he thinking would happen?"
Zero isn't looking at us anymore, and he has his head hung down. He speaks up anyway, still not raising his eyes to meet anyone.
"Heh, that isn't the beginning of it. An act of violence on one brother is one against all of us. Surge was probably behind this, honestly. From the shit you've told us about him over the last couple months, he sounds like a snake. We won't attack them just yet, but we'll fire a warning shot. Then, at least they can know they're going to die. Unlike Rattlesnake."
Gold perks up, "And we could get the weed back too. Make some tidy profit on free goods."
"Yeah," Zero says, finally looking up. "You're right there. Sounds good to me. You know where their club is, don't you Rifle?"
I hesitate, which is a mistake. "Isn't that rash?"
Zero steps away from the table and comes around to the back, where I'm sitting. He towers over me, and Smoke and Implode distance themselves from me. Zero leans over me, his eyes full of fire and anger.
"Again, Rifle, I'm starting to wonder why you're in our crew at all. Are you one of us or not? Are you going to lead us to the Ruin Outlaws' 'shitty bar,' as you called it, and let us finish what they started or not?"
I bite my tongue and squeeze my eyes shut. "Fucking get off my back already." I stand up and turn from him. "Your fucking breath is wretched, Zero," I say. I storm into the back and find the bathroom, ignoring the heat rising from my shoulders and the eyes of the entire crew focused on my back.
I wrench open the door and splash water on my face. As the water drips off my chin and stubble into the sink, I take a good look at myself in the mirror. I've gotten myself into some deep shit, but that was the point, wasn't it? I'll fucking be useful. Surge always said I wasn't worth shit to his club, but I'll fucking show him who's useless now.
I come back out from the bathroom and all the men turn to me again. I feel their stares feeding my nervous energy, and I can't help but laugh like I'm being punished. It all feels so god damn ridiculous. Zero burns holes into me with his eyes. He grabs my arm and pushes me against the wall. "Well, Rifle? Are you going to fucking be useless? Or should we make you the first Ruin Outlaws cripple?"
I feel numb as the words leave my mouth. "I'll do it. I already showed you were Bomb lives. I can show you where everyone else lives too. And I'll show you the club too. It isn't exactly hidden. It's like comparing Fort Knox to a tree house."
"Good," Zero says. He tightens his grip on my shoulder until I wince, then he releases me. I rub my shoulder and clench my hand to bring some blood back into it again. My scar throbs as the tip of my fingers touch it inside my palm. Fucking initiation bullshit. Shit he probably just made up on the spot.
CHAPTER 2— CASSIE
It feels like hundreds of hours have passed, but I know it's only been couple of minutes since Logan got off the phone with Surge. The phone's battery is low, but it can still tell me how unbearably hot it is right now, like I need any help with that.
"Stop looking at it," Logan says. He snatches the phone from my hand and flips it over, before unhinging the back and pulling the battery. "It'll drive you insane. Just try and stay calm already."
"I am fucking calm," I shout, maybe too quickly. I redden and turn away from him. We're both sitting in the shaded, dry dirt, with the rock outcropping just barely scratching our heads. Well, it's touching my pulled up hair. Logan looks less relaxed, having to stretch his legs out and expose his black boots to the sunlight to give himself enough room to not knock his head. I sigh and frown when I notice his boots in the sun. Heat shimmers off the dark leather. "I'm sorry."
"It's okay," he says. "I'm fucking on edge too, you know? But we've made it through all this other shit, we'll be fine."
"I'm worried the campers will find us."
"They won't. It was a cell phone. With a nice truck like that, I'm sure they already raced back into town and grabbed a new phone."
I hug my knees a little closer to my chest. "We should have stowed away in the back."
He laughs and shakes his head as his shoulders heave. He pushes me aside a little, but not enough to knock me over. "Like a bundle of pigs stowing away in some hay?"
"Something like that," I say, turning and looking back over the horizon. The sun's moved past the top of the sky and the shadows from the distant red crags are lengthening. My mouth is so dry I'm surprised I can even talk.
"What about that other gang... erm... crew? The
Skeletons I think you called them?" I ask him, tilting my head.
"What about them?"
"What happened?"
"Rifle, this asshole in our crew, fucking double-crossed us, tipped them off to the drug deal and they tried to fuck us on it. That slimy fucker we offed back at the range was the guy handling it. We still got the shipment —,"
"Of what?"
"Weed. But the Skeletons threatened to make sure none of us could sell, and they talked about you at the drug drop." My eyes widen at the news, and I shake my head. "I wanted to try and spare you as much shit as possible. It only gets harder to get out the more you know, Cassie. Especially if shit goes south and you end up in police hands."
"Who gives a shit? You're right. I'm scared. Why do all the fucking bikers in Arizona wanna kill me now? Because of you? Your club, their club, who cares? They're all assholes. Because you were the one to come up to me at that accident? I should have —," I cut myself short. I don't want to say. It'll be out there and I won't be able to take it back. "The heat is getting to me."
"No shit," Logan cuts in, his voice frustrated. "Me too."
"Maybe we should try and just stay quiet then," I suggest. My ears burn with anger. I can't believe he didn't tell me that before. It was kind of important. It still is important. My eye twitch is back, and I want to punch Logan for reminding me of that stupid little tick that I have. I bet he doesn't even know either.
I purse my lips and stare off into the distance. I used to think the desert was pretty silent. Especially last night with the drone of the motorcycle drowning out any possible noise or whisper. But as we've sat here for the last couple of hours, I've started to notice how full of life it all is. I can hear snakes slithering through some brush behind us, and the distant wind howls around the red crags. It's like an alien world. Other noises stir, maybe some critters or scorpions skittering and scattering about. I lean my elbows on my huddled knees. I feel so exhausted and drained.
The wildlife goes still just as the drone of a motorcycle's exhaust chugs in the distance. I can't tell what direction it's coming from. Logan immediately ducks out from under the overhang and stands, before shielding his eyes from the sun and scanning the horizon. I don't bother standing, I don't think I can anyway.