PACO: Night Rebels Motorcycle Club (Night Rebels MC Romance Book 5)

Home > Other > PACO: Night Rebels Motorcycle Club (Night Rebels MC Romance Book 5) > Page 22
PACO: Night Rebels Motorcycle Club (Night Rebels MC Romance Book 5) Page 22

by Chiah Wilder


  Paco crushed the can and tossed it in the trash can. “Later.”

  As he walked out of the room, their voices grew hushed. When he entered the kitchen, Chelsea was pouring 7-Up into a large punch bowl, her nose wrinkled in a funny little way as her face tightened with concentration. She’s so damn adorable. Her long hair draped around her, and her tight jeans showed off her curves just right. His dick twitched and he adjusted his pants. She set down the two-liter bottle and closed her eyes, inhaling deeply, and then a smile spread over her soft, glossy lips.

  “Paco,” she murmured as she turned toward him.

  “Hey, beautiful. What’re you making?”

  “Punch. Where have you been hiding?” She padded over to him.

  “Been having a smoke and a beer on the back porch. Your aunt and uncle came out to chat.” He slinked an arm around her waist and drew her to him.

  She chuckled. “And how did the chatting go?”

  “What do you think?” He nuzzled the soft spot on her neck right below her ear.

  “Oh, Paco,” she moaned, running her nails up and down his back. “I miss you… miss us.”

  “I miss your warm body next to mine when I wake up. I got a burning for you real bad, baby,” he whispered in her ear before gently sucking her earlobe between his lips.

  “Chelsea?” Sandy said as she and Dave came into the kitchen.

  Paco pulled back but kept his arm around her waist.

  Chelsea blushed. “I made some more punch. Can you take it out to the dining room, Aunt Sandy?”

  “Since we already set up this whole homecoming party, I think you could help out and do it yourself,” Dave said, a frown deepening the lines around his brows and mouth.

  “You’re right. I’m sorry.” She tried to tug away from Paco but he held her firmly.

  “Why don’t you be a nice auntie and take the fucking punch to the dining room? I’m talking to Chelsea right now.”

  His hard scowl didn’t go unnoticed, and Sandy’s eyes widened while Dave picked up the punch bowl and walked out of the kitchen with his wife following.

  After they were out of earshot, Chelsea kissed Paco. “You’re such a badass,” she said against his mouth.

  “I’ve missed your lips,” he murmured, his hand pressing against the small of her back.

  She looked over his shoulder. “Peter’s going to be coming in. I see him putting the steaks on the platter.”

  “Give me your lips.” He crushed his mouth on hers and kissed her deeply. She melded into him, and he dropped his hands lower and placed them on her ass.

  She pulled away, straightening her hair and smoothing down her top. “I don’t want Peter to see us kissing. He’s weird enough as it is, and he’s had too much to drink.”

  “You didn’t care about your aunt and uncle.”

  “Aunt Sandy’s cool, and so is Uncle Dave. They’re more modern. They’re just a couple of years older than you.”

  “Does your uncle snort coke?” he asked.

  “What made you ask that?”

  “Just the way his eyes looked and how he kept rubbing his nose.”

  Looking around, she said in a low voice, “Yeah, and so does Aunt Sandy, but my mom and Peter don’t know. I’m not sure if Kate knows about it now. They’ve been doing it since I was in middle school.”

  “Did you tell anyone about the money?”

  “No. I’ve decided to donate it to Street’s Hope. It’s a nonprofit that helps women who are victims of sex trafficking.”

  A crazy mix of emotions tore through him and, in a single flashing moment, he wanted nothing else but to spend his life with her. She was like the sun giving him heat and light when for years he’d only had cold and darkness. His feelings for her were an alchemy of possessiveness, tenderness, and something else that made him uncomfortable, but at the same time made him feel alive.

  “What? Do you think it’s a bad idea?” Her soft voice washed over him.

  Pressing her to him, he cupped her chin and tilted her head back. “I think you’re wonderful.” He crushed his lips to hers, ignoring Peter’s loud footsteps and the floating laughter and conversation from the dining room. Everything was suspended—it was just him and Chelsea and their passion for each other. It was a heady mix, and he wanted it to go on forever.

  “What the hell’s going on here?” Peter stormed in, anger molding his features.

  Paco winked at Chelsea, then glanced over at her stepdad’s blotchy red face. “We’re kissing.”

  “Are you lovers?”

  Paco sneered. “That’s none of your fucking business.”

  Peter slammed down the platter of steaks. “Let go of my daughter and get out of my house. Now. You’re just as bad as all the men who abused her. You’re nothing but—”

  Paco had him flat against the wall, his hand tight around his neck, his face barely a breath away from the shocked man’s. “Don’t you ever compare me to those fuckers again.” He squeezed tighter, and Peter’s eyes bulged as he choked and sputtered. “And no one tells me what the fuck to do.”

  “Paco, please.” Chelsea’s small voice and soft hands on his arm focused him.

  With one last squeeze, he let go and backed away. Peter stood against the wall, coughing and gulping for air. His gaze fell on Chelsea’s. “He’s crazy,” he stammered.

  “You disrespected him. He’s nothing like those horrible men. How could you have said that? If it weren’t for Paco, I don’t know where I’d be.”

  “What’s all the yelling about?” Chelsea’s mother asked as she stood in the doorway looking at all of them.

  Peter pointed at Paco. “He tried to kill me. He’s crazy. He was kissing Chelsea.”

  Linda stared at Paco. “Is this true?”

  With narrowed eyes, he zipped up his leather jacket. “I didn’t try to kill him.”

  “Yes you did. I’m going to call the police.”

  “If I wanted to kill you, you’d be dead.”

  Linda gasped and ran over to Peter, running her hand over his forehead. “Are you okay?” she asked softly.

  “No, I’m not.” He pushed her hand away from him.

  “Mom, Peter accused Paco of being like the men who kidnapped me.”

  Linda clutched the top button of her red blouse. “Why would you ever say such a thing to the man who helped Chelsea?”

  “He was kissing her.”

  Linda shook her head. “They like each other. He’s been the only bright spot in Chelsea’s life. I’m grateful to him for bringing her back home, and for making her glow with happiness amid all the horror she’s had to endure. Leave them alone. You always did this when she was a teenager and I never said anything, but I will now. Leave her alone. I mean it.” Linda walked away and went over to the sink. “And stop drinking so much,” she added in a low voice.

  “Is everything okay in here?” Sandy asked as she came into the room and went over to Linda.

  Pushing her shoulders back, her chin lifted, Linda grabbed her sister’s hand. “Everything’s perfect. Peter’s finished with the steaks and it’s time to eat.” Glancing at Peter, she pointed to the platter. “Bring those to the dining room. Chelsea, Paco, come on. The food’s going to get cold.” She waited until Peter left, and then she and Sandy followed him out.

  For several seconds, silence descended on them. Then Paco hugged her close to him. “I can see where you get your strength from, babe.” He kissed her quickly. “Let’s get some food.”

  * * *

  Paco sat in the SUV across the street at the end of the block, watching Chelsea’s house. Ever since Bull Dog and Jacko had told him they saw a man matching Bobby’s description lurking around the house and neighborhood a few days before he and Chelsea had arrived in Findlay, he’d been living on adrenaline. The night before, when Bull Dog had come over to the motel for Chains to relieve him, he’d told Paco that he hadn’t seen the Bobby guy in a couple of days. The news hadn’t comforted Paco, it just lit up all his red flags
. And so he sat watching her house.

  Several of Chelsea’s cousins filed out the door, waving their goodbyes. Sandy and Dave left next along with a few friends. Soon everyone was gone. The sky had turned from gray to black, and the stars twinkled and shone in the frigid night air. Opening a thermos, he poured a cup of coffee and sipped it slowly; he was there for the night.

  I’d rather be in your warm bed with you in my arms. I gotta find Bobby and Victor and get rid of them. How can I go back to Alina with them still out there? He took another sip of hot coffee. How can I go back without Chelsea? Fuck. She got to him. The way she smiled, talked, smelled, and felt in his arms had seriously melted the steel surrounding his heart.

  Her shadowed outline danced from behind the curtain, and he watched her while his body heated from want.

  The light went off and Chelsea’s house was encased in darkness. He leaned back and kept his gaze steady.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chelsea stood at the edge of the lake, watching the water flow over the frozen chunks. She picked up a rock and threw it onto a thin piece of ice, watching it crack before sinking down into the cold water. She crossed her arms tighter around her as the chilly wind kicked up. Chelsea loved looking at the lake, watching the constant movement of the water. Standing at the bank had always given her comfort since she’d been a child. That day, she needed its movement, its strength, and its mesmerizing effects. Her emotions were scattered, skipping and bouncing like a kite in a windstorm.

  I feel like a fish out of water around here. I don’t fit in anymore. Mom, Kate, Aunt Sandy, Uncle Dave, and all the others are trying so hard, but I can see the unasked questions and the impatience behind their eyes. The only one who makes me feel comfortable and who sees me for who I am is Paco, and he’s leaving.

  Whenever she thought about him going and her staying, it was like her heart snapped in two.

  “Chelsea, come here for a minute.”

  She spun around and saw her aunt Sandy holding the back-door’s screen wide open.

  “Coming.” With a quick look at the water, she headed back to the house. Her mother was terrified to leave her alone, so Linda had called Aunt Sandy to come over while she went to her doctor’s appointment.

  A rush of heat enveloped her when she entered the mudroom. She latched the back door and went into the family room. Her uncle sat on the couch, watching her as she came in.

  “I didn’t know you were coming over. Do you have the day off?” she asked.

  He nodded and motioned for her to sit down. She sank into the couch and glanced at the fire spitting in the brick fireplace. “What did you want?” she asked her aunt.

  Sandy cleared her throat. “Your friend stopped by to see you.”

  A surge of joy zinged through her. “Paco?” She tore her gaze away from the fireplace and craned her neck, trying to locate him.

  “No. His name is Victor.”

  Her blood turned to icicles, her ears pounded, and her heart beat so wildly that she thought it would tear through her chest cavity. Victor? No!

  She leapt up from the couch. “He’s not my friend. He’s a trafficker. He’s the one who bought me. Call the police!” She rushed to the kitchen phone and picked it up.

  Firm fingers gripped her shoulder painfully and she froze.

  “Put the phone down.”

  It’s him. It’s his voice.

  Taking the phone from her, he put it back in its cradle. “That’s a good girl.” His mouth was right next to her ear. The tension in her stomach congealed into a frozen ball of fear. “You’ve been such a naughty girl, making me come to this freezing fuckin’ town just to bring you back. Your punishment will be sweet, fucktoy.”

  She broke away and ran into the family room. Rushing to her aunt, she threw herself into Sandy’s arms. “You’ve got to call the police. He’s going to hurt all of us. He’s evil.”

  “Stop acting like a brat,” Sandy snapped, pushing her away. She fell backward and Dave caught her.

  “What are you saying?” Chelsea asked.

  Dave grabbed her arms and pulled them behind her. What’s going on here? Something cool wrapped around her wrists and he yanked hard until the plastic dug into her tender flesh.

  “What are you doing?” She looked over her shoulder and met her uncle’s cold, flat eyes. “No. This can’t be happening.”

  “It’s nothing personal, Chelsea. It’s just business,” Sandy said.

  Her mind whirled as she tried to comprehend what was going on. It was like she’d stumbled into a bad B-rated movie. This can’t be happening. Aunt Sandy and Uncle Dave can’t be doing this to me.

  “We needed the money, and when Bobby called and told me you’d run away, he wanted us to pay him what you stole from him.” Sandy clucked her tongue. “You should’ve just accepted your life. You put us in a bad way.”

  “You know Bobby? What the fuck are you talking about?”

  Dave came over and shoved her toward the couch. “We sold you to Erik, who sold you to Bobby.”

  “You? I thought it was Mr. Tarleton.”

  “He was the delivery man. He got his money too. We had no choice. We needed to pay our drug debts to Erik and then to Bobby. As I said, it wasn’t anything personal.”

  “Aunt Sandy, I love you. How could you’ve betrayed me? And Mom? What’s wrong with you?”

  “I needed the money. They threatened to kill us if we didn’t pay our debts. And now we need the money again.”

  “Speaking of money, where’s mine?” Victor came over to her, digging his fingers cruelly into her cheek even as she cried out. His panting echoed in her ears as he rubbed against her like an animal in heat.

  “I don’t have your money. I just ran that night. Ask Bobby where it is,” she said in a strained voice.

  “He’s not talking, but it doesn’t matter. You’ll pay me every fuckin’ penny back with your body.” He leaned in close. “And when I tire of you, I’ll sell you overseas for tiger meat,” he whispered in her ear. From the way he acted, he wasn’t stealing her but rather claiming what he believed was rightfully his. “Enough of this. It’s time to go home.”

  Victor threw her on the couch and she landed on her side. Her aunt avoided Chelsea’s gaze as she held out her hand for the envelope he gave her.

  I can’t let him take me away. I can’t go back to that life. Then she remembered the key fob Paco had given her. He’d told her that tapping it once would send an alert to his phone.

  If only I can reach it before Victor finds it on me.

  As her aunt and uncle counted the money Victor paid them for leading him to her, she tried to slip her fingers into her back pocket. The zip ties dug into her skin, and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from making any noises. I have to reach it. Please let me.

  Victor bent over her, his cold hands stroking her face. “How obedient and quiet you are. Not one sound out of you. No fighting. And that’s how you’re going to remain—silent.” He bent lower and she could feel the vibration of his lips on her ear. “When I beat you, you’ll be silent. When I rape you, you’ll be silent. And if I decide to kill you, you’ll be silent. You’re in my fuckin’ world with my goddamn rules.” He kissed her and nausea poked her stomach.

  “You promised us ten baggies of coke,” Dave said.

  “We’re going to have a lot of time together, fucktoy.” He straightened up and walked away.

  Chelsea resumed fumbling for the key fob. And then her finger found it. Adrenaline shot through her. I can do this. I just need to go in a little bit more. From the conversation behind her, she surmised that they were wrapping up the sale of her. The fact that her beloved aunt and uncle were the ones who sold her eight years before was incomprehensible.

  I can’t think about that now. I just need to push the button. I can’t let him take me. I’ll never be found.

  “You need help getting her in the SUV?” Dave asked.

  “I can manage. I have two men with me.”

&n
bsp; I almost have it. I can feel it.

  Then he grabbed her shoulders. No! I almost had it! Her insides quivered and screamed silently as tears slipped from the corners of her eyes. Victor took out a sack. No! He jerked her up and put it over her head, cutting out all light, then fastened it around her neck. The musty scent of the sack filled her nostrils, and bile rose up her throat. She offered no resistance as he propped her straight on the couch, her finger sliding into her pocket. Resignation turned to hope as she pushed the button right before Victor jerked her onto her feet.

  Heavy footsteps thudded into the foyer. She cocked her head, trying to see something through the sack. Nothing. Several hands grabbed her and forced her into something cold. When they pushed her down on her side, she realized they were putting her in a trunk.

  “No! Aunt Sandy, please don’t let them do this to me. Please!”

  “Shut the fuck up. Your disobedience will cost you,” Victor gritted.

  Someone pushed her head down, and the snap of the lid sealed her fate. She rocked back and forth and knew they were carrying her. Her teeth chattered when they threw her on the ground. The revving engine and the shifting motion from side to side told her she was in a vehicle. At first she hit her feet against the walls and cried out, but the only reply was her own echo from the metal walls. Cruel laughter filtered in and she willed herself to stay calm.

  Please come find me, Paco. He’s taking me away. I love you.

  She concentrated on remembering how it felt to be with Paco. Over and over she replayed each of their moments as the car drove farther and farther away.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Paco ran to the SUV and jumped in when the alert signal came from Chelsea. He took out his phone and called Chains and Army, telling them to meet him at her house. Hanging up, he tapped in War’s phone number, cursing the Twisted Warrior member under his breath.

  “Yo,” said War in a gravelly voice.

  “Are you at Chelsea’s house?” Paco asked.

  “I’m just heading there now, dude. I took a break and went to grab some snacks at the convenience store.”

 

‹ Prev