Lost Fallen Angel: A Back Down Devil MC Romance

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Lost Fallen Angel: A Back Down Devil MC Romance Page 4

by London Casey


  He walked away, again.

  He stopped at the bar and got a fresh beer. I waited for him to head for the door but he turned and went right back to the booth. He breezed right by me like I wasn’t even there.

  Now I was pissed off.

  I moved to the table again.

  Max looked up at me. He took out a lighter and lit up his smoke. He took a deep drag and blew the smoke at me.

  “Back again,” he said.

  “You’re not supposed to smoke in here.”

  “I don’t care.”

  He took another drag.

  “My father died because of smoking and drinking.”

  “Says the woman who took my beer and downed half it.”

  “Never said I was a good girl.”

  “A good girl?” Max asked. “Yeah, sure. I’ll bite, sweetheart. Sit down. Talk to me.”

  I smiled. I felt like I had won a small battle in the war.

  “You really don’t remember me?” I asked.

  “You keep saying that.”

  “It’s me, Max. It’s Jade.”

  “Jade …”

  “Years and years ago, Max. You were the first guy to ever kiss me. I was kind of dorky back then. Picture big thick glasses. Some braces. Raggedy clothes. That kind of look.”

  “And I kissed you?”

  “You kissed me.”

  Max leaned forward. He studied me. “Goddamn.”

  “You remember, yet?”

  “That was the night you were snooping around us,” Max said. “Holy shit. That was you? I mean, this is you? You were her? Are her?”

  “I wasn’t snooping,” I said. “I was on my front porch.”

  “Watching me as I beat the shit out of someone,” Max said. “Right?”

  He finally remembered. I smiled. I gushed. I was already slipping off the rails with this thing.

  Right then I should have just faked being sick. I should have bolted out of the bar and called Johnny. Take whatever punishment waited for me. Or better yet, figure out how to steal a motorcycle without the keys.

  Why hadn’t I thought of that earlier?

  Now I had the outlaw staring me down, piecing everything together. Little by little, recalling that night.

  “So we know each other,” I said. “That’s why I tried to get your attention, Max.”

  “That’s horse shit,” Max said. He took another drag of his cigarette. “Why are you really here?”

  “You’re sort of the only good memory I have,” I said. “If you want the truth. I know you ride with the motorcycle club. So when I spotted some motorcycles, I figured I’d check it out. Is that so wrong?”

  “Depends on your intentions,” Max said.

  “Hey, brother, you want to give it another round?”

  I turned my head and saw another outlaw standing next to the booth. He was the guy who stopped me last time and thought I’d like his pool stick.

  “I’m good right here,” Max said, not even taking his eyes off me.

  “Oh, look at this,” the outlaw said. “This beauty again. You come back for me, babe? You want to see my cock?”

  I was eye level with his jeans, my eyebrow cocked. He took no shame in grabbing at his zipper.

  “Cash, you pull your dick out right now and I’ll rip if off your body,” Max said.

  “Then I’ll just see my way out of here,” Cash said. He winked and blew a kiss at me.

  “Cash?” I asked.

  “We’re pretty sure he was dropped a few times as a baby,” Max said. “He’s harmless as long as you’re claimed.”

  “Claimed?”

  “Yeah, wearing someone’s ink. You have any tattoos on that pretty, smooth skin of yours?”

  “Nope,” I said.

  “That’s too bad. I can fix that tonight if you’d like.”

  “You offering me a ride?”

  “To anywhere you want to go, sweetheart,” Max said. “Seems that we have some catching up to do, don’t we?”

  “Years go by fast.”

  “People change.”

  “You haven’t changed,” I said. “You just upgraded.”

  “Upgraded?” he asked.

  “From bad boy to outlaw,” I said. “Some muscle, some ink, a leather cut.”

  “And you got rid of the glasses and the braces,” Max said. “Like that story of the ugly bird or whatever.”

  “Duckling,” I said. “And it turned into a beautiful swan.”

  “There you go,” Max said. “The outlaw and the swan. How does that story play out?”

  “I don’t know. I’m not a writer.”

  Max finished his cigarette and then leaned over the table at me. He reached out and touched my face. The felt the callous touch of his fingertip as he drew down my chin.

  “I don’t believe a word you’re saying,” he whispered with a sexy growl. “I didn’t get this leather cut by being naive and believing the first words that come from a beautiful woman’s mouth. So tell me what the fuck you’re doing here.”

  I moved my eyes and saw the other Back Down Devil guys standing at the pool table, all of them staring at me. I had the feeling that everyone was staring at me, as if I were already caught. My heart started to pound and the air felt so thin. Call it a panic attack, whatever, but I had to get out of there. A sense of death washed over me.

  Max ran his fingertip across my bottom lip and curled his lip.

  He looked ready to strike.

  “I told you,” I said, my jaw quivering. “I already told you.”

  “And I don’t believe you,” Max said. “Who’s here with you, sweetheart?”

  “I’m alone,” I said. “And I’m leaving.”

  I made a mad dash. I swung my hands to get out of the booth, and knocked my beer mug over in the process—sending beer running over the table. I dodged the beer and stood up to see that everyone was indeed staring at me. Probably because of the beer mug slamming down.

  I hurried to the door of the bar, fumbling for my cell phone.

  I didn’t bring my car because my plan had been to leave on the back of Max’s motorcycle.

  At the door, I looked back, and fully expected the entire motorcycle club to be chasing me down.

  But they were all in the same spot.

  Max sitting at the booth. A waitress at the table with a white towel, wiping up the beer.

  He was calm and cool, beautifully sexy. He took out another cigarette and stuck it between his lips. He lit it, took a drag, blew out smoke, and folded his hands.

  Some men had power through noise and force.

  Max has power through silence.

  No matter what, the outcome for me was not going to be good.

  8

  (max)

  YEARS AGO

  Crazy Jack set me up to do some time and he was going to pay for it. The rest of the guys I thought were friends decided against any action but it wasn’t their ass that would be shipped in front of a judge. A judge that lived in the town I had terrorized for years. Most of my actions were for the greater good, even if they were illegal.

  The only one that stayed semi-loyal was Crush, who told me what corner Crazy Jack would be dealing on that night. Rolling up on a dealer conducting business was not only dangerous but stupid. When dealing, he was a king. Those who needed their fix would defend him with their lives because without Crazy Jack they wouldn’t get their high.

  I was too pissed to care. My act-first-think-later kind of attitude always served me right, even if I did end up in a shit ton of trouble most of the time.

  I cruised the street, making a few passes to survey where I was. To me, it was simple. My time was up in town. I’d face the judge, take my hit, and move on. It was time to branch out. Find something better suited for who I was and who I would become. Plant my feet on the ground and say fuck you to the world.

  The final time I cruised by, I saw a girl standing on an old beat up porch. She was leaning against the wood railing that looked like it was
two seconds from giving way. I swung my ride around and pulled up along the side of her house. I killed the engine and looked at her.

  She was a cute little thing, younger than me, but not by much. I was seventeen and going for the end of the world. That was my style. She looked fifteen and shy as hell. Big glasses grazed her face, making her look like she had bug eyes.

  “Hey, come here,” I said.

  She walked to the side of the porch. “What?”

  “This your house?”

  “My father’s, yes.”

  “It looks in rough shape.”

  “All the houses are in rough shape. Who are you?”

  “I’m Max,” I said. “Can I park my motorcycle here for a few minutes?”

  “Why?”

  “I can’t tell you. It has to be a secret.”

  “A secret—okay …”

  “I need you to go inside, too.”

  “What?” she asked.

  “I don’t have time.”

  “I don’t want to go inside,” she said.

  I sighed. “What’s your name?”

  “Jade.”

  “Jade. I like that. I’m going to leave this here. I’ll be back in a few. Don’t tell on me.”

  Before she could say a word, I climbed off my ride and crossed the street. I dropped my head and looked like I was some junkie on the prowl for a fix. I turned the corner and there was fucking Crazy Jack. One foot up on a wall, looking oh-so-cool.

  He was alone, just the way I wanted it.

  He looked at me. He opened his mouth to give his speech and I wasted no time in laying into him. My left hook was weaker than my right hook. But it was still effective. I hit him in the face and his head smacked off the wall. I grabbed his shirt and threw him to the ground.

  Crazy Jack scrambled forward like a cat, trying to get away from me.

  I chased him in to the middle of the damn street.

  He let out a holler and I had to hurry to shut him up. I punched him two more times before I put my forearm to his throat, keeping him quiet.

  “You fucking did me in,” I growled at him. “You think you can get away with this? You’re fucked, man. You’re fucked. Get off this street and out of this fucking town. If I come back here again, I’ll kill you. And if you think I’m lying, try me. I’m facing the gavel soon, Jack. I’m going away. So I’ve plenty to clear out before I go. Understand me?”

  Crazy Jack nodded, eyes wide. His face turned a shade of blueberry and I let him go. He rolled to his left coughing, gasping for air. I looked up and saw two people standing there, spaced out, wanting their fix.

  “Get them the fuck out of here,” I said and swung my foot, hitting Crazy Jack in the ribs. He cried out and rolled around.

  He got to his feet, holding his side in pain, and chased his customers away.

  I turned and set my sights back on my motorcycle. But I also saw that Jade had seen the entire ordeal. She was standing there, big ass glasses, a mouth full of metal, frozen.

  “I didn’t want you to see that,” I said.

  “You hurt that man.”

  “Damn right, I did. He’s a bad guy, Jade. I’m not. Don’t believe everything you hear about me.”

  “What if you get arrested?” she asked.

  “Big deal,” I said. “I’m already knee deep. And what the fuck are you doing out here at night?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t want to be inside.”

  That was the second time she said that.

  I sighed again and walked around to the front of her porch. I stood at the bottom step and watched as she came toward me. I put my hand out and nodded. She took it and came down to the third step, making her eye level with me.

  “Are you in danger in there?” I asked her.

  “No. My father doesn’t hit me.”

  “Okay. If you end up in danger you can find me. But I have to go away for a little while.”

  “Where?”

  “Inside.”

  “I thought you weren’t a bad guy?” Jade asked.

  “Not all guys in prison are bad guys, Jade. Remember that. Life does what it wants and you adapt. Now, about what you saw tonight …”

  “I saw nothing,” she said. “I wasn’t even outside. I was asleep. In my bed. And my father is so drunk he won’t remember anything that happened since he left work.”

  I smiled. “That’s good. I like that.”

  I watched the awkwardness of her. She was cute as hell, even with the glasses and braces.

  “Thank you, Jade,” I said.

  She nodded.

  She started to turn and I shot my right hand out, grabbing her waist. “Wait a second.”

  “What?”

  I tugged at her, making her think she was going to fall. She let out a yelp and put her hands to my shoulders. I moved forward and planted my lips right to hers. We kissed once, twice, both of them really weird, almost like kissing a family member. I took control and gently parted my lips, doing the same to hers. Now we had ourselves a proper kiss.

  It lasted all of a few seconds.

  I pulled away and winked at her. “Figured you could use a goodnight kiss.”

  Her lips were still quivering even as I walked away.

  I had no fucking idea why I kissed Jade that night. Maybe I was feeling extra bad or something.

  My fate awaited me then though.

  The judge tossed my ass into jail and in jail I met someone who had a tattoo across his back that read Back Down Devil. That guy was an old member, serving life for murder. He was jumped on my second day in jail. Three guys took him down and tried to stab him to death. I saved his life. I ended up with a gash to my back that almost cost me a kidney. The old member set up a call and meeting.

  Before I knew it, freedom was in my hands. True freedom. With five words, my life changed.

  Welcome to Back Down Devil.

  9

  (max)

  “What did you do to her?” Cash asked me. “She see your dick? Afraid of it?”

  “Fuck off,” I said and stared at the door. “I’m going for a ride.”

  “What?”

  “Something’s not adding up here. I need to get Lemonely on the phone right now. I need her address.”

  I stood up and Cash was there, standing up too, and got in my face. “What the fuck are you trying to prove?”

  “Hey, this club is under fire right now, Cash. I’m not letting anything slip by me. She was at the bar when we got Ratchet. Grabbing at me, wanting my attention. Now she shows up here, doing the same thing. I called her out and she fucking stormed away. Something’s up.”

  “You think she’s tied to the break ins?”

  “I don’t know. But this stays between us, got it? I’m handling this on my own.”

  “Fuck, brother, you know Prez ain’t going to roll with that.”

  “He will,” I said. “I’m calling Lemonely. I’ll get her address. Figure this out. For now, I’m going for a ride. See what’s shaking outside. Keep your mouth closed, Cash. Don’t fuck me on this.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  “I knew her,” I said. “Years ago.”

  “Ah, shit,” Cash said. “Since when do you have attachment issues.”

  “The only thing I’m going to be attached to is your fucking neck when I choke you out. Go play pool. Go get your dick sucked. I don’t care. Stay out of this one for a minute.”

  “You got it, bro,” Cash said. “If you need me, call me.”

  I hugged Cash and trusted him to keep his mouth shut.

  Part of me couldn’t believe that the dorky girl on her front porch turned into the woman who had sat across from me. Long dark hair. Green eyes that shined even though the bar was dimly lit. Her body shaped like an hourglass, screaming that she was all woman underneath her clothes. Goddamn, there was nothing like a woman with a nice set of curves. They always fit so well into my hands.

  This one was even better. A little bit of temptation and
a sense of lingering because we had a small past together.

  But showing up like that twice? That was amateur shit. Whatever she was up to, I’d find out.

  And I knew it would come down to a tough decision.

  Help her, or kill her.

  I got the address and knew right where she lived. Some upscale apartment complex in a part of town that was being built up thanks to start up tech companies and a flood of rich people moving out of bigger cities, trying to recapture something that resembled a small and easy life. It was a gated community without the gates. Fucking trees and grass shipped in to create landscaping that was a mere illusion of the bullshit that surrounded them when they left their little slice of heaven that cost a shit ton of money.

  Jade had my attention even more.

  She was up to no good and I wondered if she was in some kind of trouble. I didn’t mind trouble at all. Hell, I embraced it with a fucking smile on my face and a smoke between my lips.

  I tucked the piece of paper away when VP came blasting through my door.

  “Don’t you fucking knock?” I asked.

  “We got one,” he said.

  “What?”

  “One of the pricks from the breakins. Kye tagged him about an hour ago. Found him with his legs dangling out of a window. Prez wants us all there.”

  “Where?”

  “Garage,” Jasper said. “It’s time to get information, brother.”

  Jasper cracked his knuckles and grinned.

  “Fuck,” I whispered.

  There was nothing quite like a little wicked violence to get information. It was our brand of justice. The outlaw way to survive.

  The prick was chained up in an empty garage bay. He hung by his wrists, a bandana tied around his mouth to keep him quiet. His toes scraped against the concrete floor.

  I lit my cigarette and stepped through the crowd of my brothers.

  The guy must have thought I was his maker because he started to kick and scream.

  “We ready to do this?” Cash asked.

  “Do it,” Prez’s voice bellowed from another part of the garage.

  He came walking through, arms crossed, a pissed off look on his face.

  “We checked him for ink,” Xavier said. “He’s clean. No markings. Nothing.”

  “Take the bandana out of his mouth. Let him talk,” Prez said.

  Jasper untied the bandana.

  The guy started to scream for help.

 

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