MUERTO: Night Rebels Motorcycle Club (Night Rebels MC Romance Book 2)

by Chiah Wilder

  Chains cracked up and tried to talk, but he kept laughing. Goldie cleared his throat. “The chick Muerto has a hard-on for. The black-haired one at Alfonso’s.”

  “You mean the one who was hustling at the pool hall?” Paco rubbed his chin with his thumb and index finger. Muerto nodded. “She’s not bi. Who told you that? I’ve seen her at Cuervos, especially last year with some dude, and she definitely acted like she was into men only. She likes to flirt.” He lightly punched Muerto’s arm. “Seems like you met a woman who’s just not in to you.”

  As the men guffawed, Muerto glared; he was fuming. “What the fuck does that mean?”

  Paco shrugged. “She’s just not interested. It happens.”

  “Not to me,” he grumbled.

  “Just move on to the next one. Like Ruby. She’s headed our way. Fuck her until the cutie you’re thinking about is out of your head. That’s what the club girls are here for.” Paco looked at Chains, Sangre, and Goldie. “Am I right?”

  The trio nodded vigorously.

  “Fuck off.” Muerto turned his back to them, his nostrils flaring as he heard the men chuckling behind him.

  “You look like you could use some fun,” Ruby’s soft voice caressed him. He shot her a sideways look and grunted. She ran her fingers down his powerful arms. “Your skin is real smooth. I can tell you work indoors.” She stepped up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “I’ve missed you.”

  “I’m too fuckin’ pissed to think about anything. Go find another brother who loves your soft touch. I’m done for tonight.” She opened her mouth to protest, but he put a finger to her lips. “Go on now.”

  “Okay… if that’s the way you want it.” She turned to the three guys behind him. “You guys wanna have some fun?”

  “Like all at once?” Sangre asked, a devilish tone in his voice.

  “Sure. Why not?” She looped arms with Chains and Goldie while Sangre followed behind them. They walked toward the door leading to the backyard.

  “You wanna get in on a poker game? We’re starting in about fifteen minutes,” Paco said.

  “Nah, I’m beat. I’m headed upstairs.” He slammed his glass on the counter and stomped up the stairs. When he got to his room, he kicked off his boots, whipped off his T-shirt after carefully hanging up his cut, and lay down. I know I didn’t imagine her attraction to me. The woman was fuckin’ comin’ on to me. What the hell’s her deal?

  He threw his arm over his eyes. Tomorrow was another day, and he’d just go over to his place and pay his pretty tenant a visit. He’d be remiss as a landlord if he didn’t follow up to see if the plumbing problem was fixed. It didn’t matter that Deanna had already done that. He wanted to do it himself.

  And he’d give her another chance at him. I’m sure she was just tired.

  As he thought of all the wicked things he wanted to do to her, he slowly slipped into a deep sleep.

  * * *

  Brilliant summer sunlight bathed the town as the heat pushed in on him while he rode over to his duplex. On the shaded porch, he took out his key and inserted it into the lock of his rental. It didn’t turn. He took it out and reinserted it. Again, it didn’t turn. As he tried for the third time, the heat from the day was soon replaced by hot streaks of anger zigzagging through him. Once again, the lock didn’t turn.

  Wiping the sweat from his forehead, he tossed the key in the grass. She fuckin’ changed the locks! Enraged, he pounded on the door. It groaned under his assault while the picture window shook.

  Behind the door, he heard rushing footsteps and then a pause before the door flung open. “What the fuck’s your problem?” Raven’s eyes flashed and her brow creased.

  “You changed the fuckin’ lock. You can’t do that.” He pushed his way in, making her stumble back. “You’re fuckin’ out of line, and I’m not gonna put up with your bullshit.” He stormed into the kitchen and opened the cupboard under the sink, inspecting the new pipe.

  “I changed the locks because you seem to think you can barge in here whenever you want.”

  “I can. And you can’t change ’em unless I give you permission, which I didn’t.” He stood up and faced her. The sunlight streaming into the kitchen made her black hair glisten, her lips look redder, and her big eyes shine brightly. She’s so damn gorgeous. She had on a pair of jean shorts and a white T-shirt knotted in the middle. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and from the way the sun was hitting her, he could see her pert breasts and their nipples. How he wanted to suck on one of those nipples. He’d always thought that a woman’s nipple was one of nature’s most eye-catching works of art. How he craved to suck on hers, drawing it into his warm mouth and then gliding his tongue over the hardened bud, giving her the erotic attention she deserved.

  I gotta concentrate here. Why am I pissed?

  “The lease is supposed to explicitly say that I cannot change the locks. It doesn’t, so I can change them without your permission,” she said.

  That’s right. She changed the fuckin’ locks!

  “You really should’ve hired a lawyer to draft your lease.” She placed her hands on her curvy hips. “I have a friend who’s a lawyer, and he said that a landlord cannot just enter a tenant’s house. The landlord has to give twenty-four hours’ notice before he can barge in unannounced like you did a few days ago, and were attempting to do just now.”

  The smug look on her face infuriated him. “Fuck you.” He brushed past her. “And I need a copy of the key in case of an emergency. And that’s allowed. Ask your lawyer friend,” he said over his shoulder as he went into the living room. He heard her padded footsteps behind him.

  “Why did you come over here?” she asked softly.

  “I wanted to see how the plumber did.”

  “How’d he do?”

  He knew she was right behind him, her intoxicating scent surrounding him, threatening to strangle him. He whirled around and she jumped back. “Fine.” They stood facing each other, an awkward gap between them.

  “You want something to drink?”

  He leaned forward, his gaze still on her. He liked the way she seemed a little anxious and kept licking her lips.

  “I have a bottle of Jack and a couple cans of Coors. There’s always water and cranberry juice.”

  “Coors is fine.”

  She looked relieved that she had a reason to leave the room. As she went to the kitchen, he sat down on the couch. A cat jumped up and sat on the other end, its shining eyes staring at him. Muerto stared back.

  “Sooty, are you trying to show our landlord who’s boss?” She laughed as she handed him his beer.

  “I’m the boss,” he said as he brought the can to his lips.

  “If it’s important to you, I’ll agree you’re the boss since you’re the landlord.” She sat down and crossed her legs, her cat curling up in her lap.

  “I’m the boss. Period.” He jutted out his chin. He’d never met such an intriguing and exasperating woman before.

  “If you want to be. Does that make you feel better?” She smiled sweetly as she stroked the cat’s fur.

  He grunted as he looked around. “You fuckin’ painted all the walls in here.”

  “Do you like it?”

  “It’s okay, I guess.” He took another gulp. He’d be damned if he admitted she’d done a great job in her color selection and made the place look more inviting. She’s full of herself enough without me telling her the place looks way better than before. “So, are you an artist? I mean other than the jewelry making. Do you paint pictures?”

  She nodded. “My medium is acrylics. My first love is painting, but the jewelry makes the money. I make jewelry out of other people’s junk, and enjoy repurposing things into art creations. I’m thrilled I can make a living at it.”

  “That’s cool. Are you sure you don’t have a man?” She choked on her water and started coughing. “Are you okay?” he asked.

  She nodded as she wiped her eyes. “Sorry. Your question took me by surprise. I mean, we were talking
about jewelry, and then you asked me if I’m with anyone.”

  “I was just curious because you acted kinda funny last night.”

  “Funny? What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know. You didn’t act like women I’m used to.”

  She guffawed and it grated on his nerves. “Because I didn’t ask you to come in and fuck my brains out?”

  “Forget it.”

  “No. Is that what you meant? I bet you’re used to women throwing themselves at you.”

  He cocked his head to the side. “Actually, I am.”

  “Well, meet one who doesn’t do that. I told you last night that I broke up with a guy I’d been living with about six months ago. Do you have a girl?”

  “Nah. I don’t go in for the girlfriend thing.” He placed the empty beer can on the coffee table. “I got plenty of chicks—that’s never been a problem.” Until you. But I’m gonna get you, sweetheart, and when you’re good and hooked, I’ll move on to the next one. I can’t wait to break you.

  “I’m sure it hasn’t. Sounds like you’re having a good time and you’ve got it all figured out.” Pointing at the can, she said, “Do you want another one?”

  “I’m good. I gotta get going.” Your indifference doesn’t fool me. He stood and she pushed up from the couch. “You ever sell your stuff at rallies?”

  “Rallies? What do you mean?”

  “We put on a couple of biker rallies every year. We got a big one coming up in October. It attracts bikers from all over the region, and even from Colorado Springs and Pueblo. Anyway, we raise money for a charity dealing with child abuse. Breanna, our president’s old lady, is trying to get more vendors to rent spaces at the upcoming one in a couple months. I thought you might want to get a booth. I think you’d do real well.”

  “I’d love to do that. I guess I’d have to buy some skull and dagger charms for the biker crowd.”

  “You betcha.” He winked. “I’ll text you Breanna’s number and you can connect with her.”

  “Sounds great. Thanks.” Her fingers skimmed over his forearm, scorching his skin.

  Placing his hand on the doorknob, he looked at her. “You wanna go out for a drink sometime?”

  “I’m not sure that’s such a great idea. I mean, I’m not looking to get involved with anyone right now.”

  “I’m asking you out for a drink, not a lifelong commitment. But if you don’t want to, that’s cool. I’m outta here. Call if you have any other problems with the rental.” He stepped on the porch and went to his Harley. He felt her watching him, and he wanted to turn around and look at her in the sunlight again, but he didn’t. Instead, he jumped on his bike and pulled away from the curb without a backward glance.

  As he rode to the Climax Lounge, he still couldn’t believe that she’d turned him down again. He’d thought they were connecting and that she’d jump at the idea of going out for a drink. That shit stopped. Now. He’d given her a few chances to be with him and she’d thrown them back in his face, so she was out of his mind. Gone. Like she never existed.

  That suits me just fine, sweetheart.

  When he pulled into the parking lot of the Climax Lounge, he scanned the area looking for his brother-in-law’s truck. Nothing.

  Inside, the lights were dim and it seemed as though it were nighttime. Waiting until his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he stood by the bar and looked around. The club looked like one from the 1960s, with red velvet chairs, red leather booths, and heavy full-length curtains. Smoky black mirrors lined the walls and the ceiling.

  His eyes adjusted to the low lights and he saw a pretty brunette writhing on stage, touching herself all over. There was a sprinkling of men, which wasn’t surprising since it was midmorning on a weekday.

  A man of medium height came up to him. “What’s shaking, Muerto? What brings you into my establishment?”

  “Hey, Jimmy. Just seeing what the competition looks like.” He snorted while Jimmy laughed too loud.

  Muerto didn’t trust Jimmy Delarosa one iota. The slimebag always tried to ingratiate himself with the Night Rebels, and it just rubbed him the wrong way. At that moment, Delarosa was acting like they were long-lost friends. The grease was just sliding off him.

  As they spoke, Muerto kept his eyes peeled for Joe. While Jimmy was telling him about the newest thing to make money on, Muerto spotted a couple in a booth at the other end of the room. It looked like one of the dancers sat on a man’s lap, and he was running his hand over her curves. The rotating stage lights bounced off the customer’s watch, lighting it up.

  Muerto breathed out. It’s Joe. Fuck! He recognized the watch on the guy’s wrist. The previous year, Laura had begged him to find a good deal on a Rolex she knew Joe wanted really bad. She’d wanted to give it to him for his birthday, so he looked up an old contact of his who dealt in stolen goods and bought the watch. Laura never asked where he’d gotten it, and she’d insisted on paying for it.

  Yeah… I definitely recognize the damn watch.

  “I’ll catch you later,” he said to Jimmy as he walked away.

  When he came over to the booth, Joe had his face buried in the stripper’s cleavage. “How’s it going?” he said.

  Joe jerked his head up, his face falling when his gaze fell on Muerto’s. “Dude….”

  Muerto glanced at the woman, grasped her wrist, and gently pulled her off Joe’s lap. “Your dance is over. Scram.”

  “What the fuck?” She looked at Joe. “You gonna allow that?”

  Muerto took out a few hundred bucks and handed it to her. Her eyes grew as big as saucers and she smiled. “I like you. Next time you come back in here, ask for Joley.” The stripper sashayed away.

  “You want a drink, Mateo?” Joe looked nervously around the room as if trying to tag a waitress.

  “It’s Muerto, and this shit stops now.”

  “What’re you talking about?”

  “Are you fuckin’ someone on the side? And don’t even think of not telling me the truth, ’cause if you lie to me you’re gonna be sorry you ever came into the family.”

  Joe shook his head. “I’m not cheating on Laura. I know she thinks I am, but I’m not. At least not yet. I’ve thought about it, but I haven’t acted on it.”

  “And you’re not fuckin’ gonna. You’re not gonna break my sister’s heart. What the hell’s going on with you two? I thought you guys were solid. Don’t risk her throwing your ass out over some different pussy. Shit.”

  “It’s just the same thing all the time. Nothing different or exciting. All we ever talk about is money and the kids. Laura’s always too tired for sex.”

  “Then talk to her. You don’t throw away eleven years of marriage on pussy and tits. I get that you wanna have more sex, so just talk to her. She’s your wife, dude. Fuck.”

  “I love Laura a lot and I’d never leave her, but the thrill of sex with someone new is hard to fight.”

  “You do that shit and it’ll never be the same between you. You talk to her and set this right. What you don’t do is break my sister’s heart. Instead of spending time here, you should be with Laura. Get outta here. Go home.”

  Joe nodded and slid out of the booth. “You’re right. I’ll talk to her.” He put his baseball cap on and walked out.

  With a heavy heart, Muerto watched him go. Jimmy intercepted him as he made his way to the front door. “I’m not liking what just happened.”

  “What’re you talking about?”

  “Coming in here and chasing my customers out.”

  “This was personal.”

  “Doesn’t matter who it was. If a guy wants to be in here, it’s none of your business to tell him otherwise.”

  Muerto grabbed him by the shirt and shook him. Through clenched teeth, he said, “You’re teetering on a fuckin’ fine line between respect and disrespect. Don’t go over it. Got it? You don’t tell me what the fuck to do.”

  As he threw back a pasty-faced Jimmy, one of the bouncers came up. Muerto’s fists clenched i
nstinctively.

  “You okay, boss?” He gave Muerto the evil eye.

  Smoothing down his shirt, Jimmy smiled weakly. “I’m good. The gentleman was just leaving.”

  Muerto locked gazes with him for several seconds, then slowly broke away and walked out of the club into the bright sunshine. As he pulled out of the lot and headed to the club, he hoped Joe and Laura could work out their problems. If Joe couldn’t keep his dick in his pants, Muerto would have to beat the shit out of him for shattering Laura’s heart and the kids’ lives.

  He really didn’t want to do that.

  Sighing, he veered out of town and rode down the two-lane highway as the sun beat relentlessly down on him.

  Chapter Eleven

  For the past two weeks, Muerto hadn’t shown up at the house, and Raven found herself listening for the roar of his bike. As much as she hated to admit it, she missed him. A big part of her craved something wild and dangerous to take her out of the mundane routine of everyday living. That something was Muerto. Even though she was fighting it like hell, she was definitely attracted to the biker, and it wasn’t just for his good looks. That night at Alfonso’s had shown her another side of him. He’d spoken from his heart about his mom and sisters, and when he’d told her about his dad, she heard pain in his voice. There’s still a little boy in him. And that’s what she liked.

  Her phone vibrated against the table and she went over to see who was calling. It’s him again. Shit. Ever since she’d encountered Brent on her porch a few weeks before, he’d been calling and texting her like crazy. Sometimes she picked up and put him on speakerphone as he rambled about how he wanted them to get back together. She’d made two pairs of earrings during one of his monologues, but mostly she ignored him. The previous week she hadn’t received the requisite bombardment of calls, and she’d hoped he’d moved on. No such luck.

  She slid her unanswered phone into her jeans pocket.

  “If your plan is to drive me crazy, asshole, it’s starting to work,” she said aloud as she put a tube of lip gloss in her fanny pack. She grabbed her keys, scratched Sooty behind the ears, and went into the garage.