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BROKEN ANGEL: Devil's Route MC

Page 50

by Nicole Fox


  I saw the fist flying at my head, and I didn't do anything. I knew it was going to hurt, even if it was coming from a smaller guy like Happy. He had meat on his bones, even if he didn't look it, and he knew how to punch from his legs. I barely had time to register that it was coming, though.

  I saw it. Then, the pain exploded through my nose and face as my head violently snapped back. I stumbled back, my hand coming up to my face. “Mother-” I screamed, but was cut off as Happy rabbit punched me again and again.

  On cue, from behind me I heard a piercing scream from Jace that was guaranteed to get everyone's attention.

  Jesus fucking Christ, I thought as I fell back under the onslaught. I threw a hand up, my fight or flight taking over for a second there, but my brain soon took over and made sure the block was weak enough to not stop Happy's next punch that clipped my jaw and stumbled me to my knees. I lunged at him, throwing a flailing fist at his head in a clumsy haymaker, but Happy just blocked it and slashed me to the ground.

  “Hey!” Fed yelled as he stepped in between me and Happy, then, as my vision blurred out for a moment. He grabbed Happy up and flung him back a step, but the guys behind Happy had crowded in and kept Fed from throwing him too far. “What the fuck, Happy?”

  “Done with this piece of shit,” Happy yelled at Fed as Jace slipped an arm around me and helped me to stand. He glanced around, trying to garner support. He pointed past Fed, straight at me. “Koen ain't done shit for this club, all he's done is pull us down since Gator died. Right guys?”

  There were mumbles of agreement, mainly because Happy was the last one that had spoken. People were funny like that, always picking the guy who got in the last word. Besides, he was a good actor. He even had me believing for a moment that this was a real mutiny.

  I glanced down at Club Hellfire's floor, at all the sets of eyes staring back up at our little theatrical performance. “Know what?” I asked, loud enough for everyone to hear me over even the Buddy Zepellin blaring from the sound system. “I'm done with you pieces of shit! Fuck all y'all bitches, I'm out of here!”

  “Good!” Happy declared as Fed took a step back.

  I shakily stood up, stripped out of my vest, with its patches and runners and the colors I'd been swaddled in as a boy. I could feel my tears welling up, even, as I realized I was basically killing my old self, that I was shedding my old skin. I looked Happy right in the eye. “Take this shit,” I yelled, throwing my vest at him, “and shove it up your ass, traitor.”

  I was careful not to throw it on the ground. I couldn't dishonor the colors for anything, not even for our little play. Besides, that kind of disrespect would get my ass stomped by every man in the MC before I even hit the door, ex-president or not.

  Fed glanced back at me then, with a fake grimace twisting his face, he began to strip out of his vest. He shoved it into Happy's hands along with mine. He nodded to me, resolute to stand by my side.

  “Traitor?” Happy asked as I turned to walk away, Jace under one arm giving me fake support. “Fuck you, Baby Gator! You're the only goddamn traitor in this club. We're true F&B!”

  I just held up my hand over my shoulder, giving him the finger as Jace and Fed helped me to walk away. “Think everyone bought it?” I asked Jace under my breath as we headed for the stairs.

  “Oh yeah,” she said, her voice a little excited despite the tense and somber situation. “If we weren't going into witness protection, I'd say you should move to Hollywood.”

  “Yeah,” I agreed. “Hollywood.” Forgetting how badly Happy had just banged up my face, I tried to give her a weak smile, but instead just ended up wincing in pain.

  The alcohol might have given me plenty of courage, but it wasn't doing much to numb the pain. The adrenaline was still kicking high, slicing through the fogginess of all the beers I'd been drinking, and I could sense the tense undercurrent running through the crowd below.

  “You did good,” Fed assured me, his face as downcast as I felt right then. “Real good, brother.”

  “Thanks,” I replied, nodding. Jace and I headed down the stairs ahead of him, the old wooden structure wobbling a little as we descended to the crowd of bikers below, who were already parting like the Red Sea for Moses.

  We made our graceless exit from Club Hellfire, leaving our whole world behind as we headed for the back lot. Stripped of our vests, of our protection, just more meat for the machine. Eyes followed us as we trudged through the center of the club, but just as many averted away from us. I glanced up one last time, my eyes settling on Benji and Happy.

  Benji nodded, her lips drawn down in a tight frown. I watched her sigh.

  We were on our own, now, I realized. Completely on our own, and out in the cold.

  # # #

  Jace

  Fed and I helped Koen to the back door, his weight pressing down on me like a ton of drunken, dead bricks. All eyes were on us as we shuffled through the silent, staring crowd, their eyes all big and saucer-like as they just watched us go.

  We parted ways with the crowd and entered the back hallway. There were still a couple of people back there, mostly bikers from the support clubs for the F&BMC, or just weekend warrior types.

  Koen looked bad, real bad, with blood streaming down his face from a cut just above his eye. We needed to get him out of here as fast as possible. I had myself wedged up underneath Koen's armpit, and I had to really struggle to carry some of his weight. The way he was limping, I thought he might have twisted his ankle when he went down from Happy's last punch, but I just knew I didn't want him to put any more weight on it than he had to.

  “Christ, you're heavy,” I groaned as we approached the back door.

  “Ain't my fault you guys wanted me to do a good job,” he said, his voice morose sounding.

  This was hitting him hard, I knew. This was his family, and he was giving it all up to try and save them, to protect them from the mistake he'd made when he'd picked Volkov for them. He was the one shouldering all their responsibility, even if most of the MC, or the support clubs associated with them, didn't know it.

  “Hey, sugar,” some guy said just as I felt a hand grab my ass, “what're you doing with a loser like this shitbird?”

  We stopped and I disengaged myself from Koen and went to turn around. “Excuse me?” I said, my voice arching as I focused on the bastard who'd just grabbed my ass.

  He was big, well over six feet tall, and looked like he spent most nights at the gym. Tattoos covered his toned, bulging arms, and both legs looked like goddamn tree trunks.

  I started to tell this fucker exactly what he could do. “Why don't you go-”

  Koen, though, was moving before I could even finish my sentence. I'd never seen a man move like that, never before in my life. He was off of me, and springing onto the asshole. He slammed his forehead into Butt Grabber McGee's face, shattering his nose in a bloody spray, and sending him sprawling up against the wall.

  Before you could say “ass beating,” the guy was pinned up against the wall, desperately protecting his vitals as Koen wailed on him. He threw fists faster than I could see, easily slamming into the beefy Butt Grabber's body half a dozen times before Fed finally realized what was going on.

  Fed tried to pull him off the guy, but he'd dropped to his knees and Koen moved in for the kill with a cold fury I'd never seen before. “Koen! Come on, dude! Stop!”

  “Never. Ever. Touch. My. Woman,” he said, his voice low and intense, with every word punctuated by a fist to the face.

  Fed finally managed to grab hold of Koen, to yank him off the guy and soothe him a little. “Dude,” Fed said to his best friend, “you're ruining the act.”

  Koen just grunted in return, and we headed on our way.

  I should have been terrified that a man I'd slept with could do something like that, just leave a man in a puddle of blood and spittle in a back hallway without a second thought. I loved this guy, and he'd just demolished a man right before my eyes without even blinking.


  Maybe it was the way he'd stood up for me against this guy, protected me. Or, maybe it was the way he'd done it so efficiently. Or it was maybe even the way he'd called me his woman while he was doing it. Whatever the reason was, I just let him slump back down over me, his knuckles now bloody and bruised, the smell of fight-sweat filling my nose, exciting me.

  And that was when I realized just how much I cared for this man.

  “Gonna be able to ride?” Fed asked as we pushed out into the back parking lot, the bright light of day shining down on our faces like a flare. We blinked at the sudden brightness and looked around the lot, but it was more or less empty of people.

  Koen righted himself, as if on cue. He put all his weight on both feet like nothing had happened, and his eyes somehow refocused like he hadn't had any beer that day. “I'm fine,” he assured his buddy. “Meet you at the crib later?”

  “Absolutely, man,” Fed said with a nod.

  It was actually kind of astonishing, to be honest. This whole time he'd just been playing opossum, letting Happy look like the complete victor. I should've known something was up with the way he moved on that guy, but he'd slipped back into character so fast I thought it had just been his instincts kicking in for a moment.

  Together, we walked over to his bike. “You sure you're okay?” I asked. “We can call a cab, you know.”

  “Am I okay?” he asked, then laughed and spit some blood off to the side. “Nothing but a flesh wound. Happy went easy on me, like we planned. He was damn good in there though, wasn't he?” he said with a hint of admiration in his voice as he climbed on his bike.

  “He was good?” I asked, laughing as I climbed up behind him. “You deserve a damn Emmy.”

  “Was thinking more Oscar,” Koen said. “But, I guess everyone's a critic these days.”

  He kicked the bike alive, and its engine rumbled and vibrated its way through my body. We tore off, out of the parking lot, and headed for chez Koen's.

  The ride was short and uneventful. No one had followed us, no one was waiting for us. It seemed that Koen's exit had been performed well enough, and Happy was keeping everyone in line.

  We headed inside from the garage and he slumped back into one his customary chair at the dining room table. I slapped a bag of frozen peas I'd grabbed from the freezer down in front of him, along with a beer for the pain.

  “Thanks,” he mumbled.

  “Welcome,” I said and slumped down with my own beer next to him. “Well, looks like we're in it, now.”

  “Yep,” he agreed, closing his eyes.

  We stayed like that for a while, just quiet. After the ruckus of the day, and all the pounding music and beer-drunk bikers, the silence was nice. Nice enough to the point that neither of us wanted to be the one responsible for breaking it.

  A short while later, a yellow cab pulled up in front of the house. Soon after, Benji was knocking at the front door.

  “Hey girl,” she squeaked as I let her in and led her to the dining room. “Koen doing okay?”

  I gave a snort of laughter. “Oh, he's doing fine,” I said. “He was just putting on a show for all of us, apparently.”

  “Thought we weren't supposed to contact each other for a while?” Koen asked as we entered the dining room.

  “I know, I know. But, there's been a change of plans, or situation, I guess. Happy heard that some of the Thunder Riders are taking over security for Aleksey when he comes into town, something about him wanting to keep his hands clean.”

  Shit.

  I'd figured there'd be security when we met him, but just one or two guys. Not a whole gang of ornery, unemployed bikers who were gunning for Koen. This could upset my plans, maybe, make it more difficult for me to make my move on Aleksey.

  “Security, huh?” Koen asked, taking a drink off his beer. He and I exchanged a glance. “Thanks. That's good to know.”

  “What're they doing that for anyways?” Benji asked. “I mean, they're just bikers like you guys, right? They ain't security or nothing.”

  “Nah,” Koen agreed. “But, I might've informed on them a little while ago. Most of their upper officers are sitting in Orleans Parish Prison right now because of me.” He grinned and set his empty beer down.

  “We should probably let Claire know about the change,” I said.

  “Yeah,” Koen agreed with a groan, shifting the bag of nearly thawed peas on his head. “Lemme grab another ice pack, and I'll give her a call.”

  He heaved himself up from the dining room table and stalked into the kitchen, bag of half-frozen vegetables dangling from one hand and an empty beer bottle from the other. “You doing alright?” Benji asked, raising an eyebrow at me.

  “Fine,” I said. “Why wouldn't I be?”

  “Well, Fed told me you were going to the meeting with Koen, and that it was your idea.”

  “Yeah,” I said carefully, suddenly very aware of where my eyes were and what my hands were doing.

  “Why?” she asked simply, her voice low enough that Koen wouldn't hear in the kitchen while he was on the phone with Agent McKesson. “And don't fucking lie to me, girl.”

  I sighed. I didn't want to tell her the truth. She'd pitch a fit louder than the whole biker rally earlier today. But, I couldn't outright lie to her, either. Benji knew me too damned well for that to fly. “Look,” I finally said. “I just want to look that fucker in the eyes. Just once, okay?”

  Benji watched me carefully as I spoke, her unflinching gaze taking everything in.

  I nearly held my breath as she scanned my face for any sign of a fib.

  Finally, she nodded, accepting my answer as honest. “Sorry I doubted you,” she said. “I just, after all this shit that's been going on, I want you to be done with all this shit. You and Koen seem like you could be happy together, you know? You make a cute couple, at least.”

  She was right. We could be. And we did. I hated to admit it, especially with what I was going to do with him. I smiled a little, trying to mask the pain I was feeling, and turned away from her. “Alright,” I said, waving her off. “Tell me what's going on with you since I haven't been around as much.”

  We spent the next few minutes just chatting about how her life had changed, how much she was enjoying working at Club Hellfire. Happy had given her the day off for the rally, even though he shouldn't have. But, he knew they might need a go-between no one would suspect.

  But, overall, Benji liked her new life. She was even thriving for the first time in all these years. Which was a damned good thing. I was happy for her, that she could move on from our shit past so easily. I wished with all my heart that I could, too, even though I knew it was impossible for someone like me who had gone through what I'd gone through.

  Koen came back into the room a little while later, while we were in the middle of Benji talking about a cute biker she'd just met. Her eyes were lit up for the first time in years, and I hated to have to turn back to this shitty business.

  “Alright,” Koen said as he turned his phone off. “Claire's dropping some files here in a little bit, pictures of all the surveillance they've got on the Thunder Riders. We can look them over and be able to spot them in a crowd.”

  “Sounds good,” I said, nodding.

  And, it was good news. Damn good, even. This way I'd know where the first bullet was coming from before I pulled the trigger on Aleksey.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Koen

  The next several days passed in a blur of glossy photos and manila folders as Jace and I pored over the information Agent McKesson had dropped off for me the first night of the rally. Finally, though, we were almost there. One more night together for me and Jace, then we were off to our meeting in the afternoon.

  I was a bundle of nerves. Both about the fact that I hadn't really left the house, even to ride my bike, in a few days. And also about the meeting itself, and the fact that I was bringing Jace along.

  I slid into bed at the end of the night, nude and freshly showered, pictures of
Thunder Riders flashing in my mind. Rodeo, Sidewinder, Skip, Paul, Hash. All of them just a quick cross-section of the men who might be gunning for me tomorrow if things went tits up on arrival.

  Then, there was Jace. Some of the questions she'd asked had gotten me thinking. I was worried she'd go for Aleksey again. Even in our few moments when we didn't have the dossiers in front of us, and I'd mention what the future would hold, she'd dance around the subject and try to change it.

  It was like she wasn't planning for the day after tomorrow. Instead, she was entirely focused on our meeting in the park like it was the last thing we'd do.

 

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