Smoke and Mirrors: A Demented Sons MC Texas Novel

by Kristine Allen

  “Let’s go.” I didn’t stop, and he kept up with me. The sound of our boots hitting the concrete was ominous as we moved quickly toward her office. We were about to hit the side steps up to the old Victorian home they had converted to offices when I saw something sticking out from the bushes that ran around the house.

  I grabbed Straight’s arm, halting him midstride.

  Heart pounding, I approached cautiously after pulling out my concealed pistol. I motioned for Straight to be quiet, and he reached into the back of his pants for his gun too.

  As we reached the bushes nearly to the back of the house, we slowed further and moved quietly. Dread flooded me, and I almost didn’t want to see what it was.

  Two more steps, and there was no denying what was in the bushes. “Fuck! Nova! Get inside!”

  We both began to haul ass for the doors.

  Our newest prospect had been shoved into the bushes in the deep shade of the old live oak that stood between the two converted homes. His eyes were wide and staring sightlessly at the sky that peeled through the branches.

  With the massive, red, gaping wound on his neck and the dark stain in the dirt, he was definitely not alive.

  “Oath”—Devour The Day

  Thirty minutes earlier…

  “Deacon,” I whispered in fear. His hair had been slicked back and he didn’t look as scruffy as he had that morning, but I recognized him. Granted, the bushy red beard and shaggy hair had thrown me earlier, but now that I knew it was him, I kicked myself. I should’ve recognized him immediately, even with his new hobo look.

  What confused me was that he wasn’t the same shaggy-looking guy that had yanked me out of the SUV after the funeral. That much I was certain of.

  “So good to see you again, Nova,” he sneered. “Miss me?”

  More than anything, I wanted to tell him I missed him like a chapped ass. But I wasn’t stupid, and I decided to be quiet for the moment.

  “Cat got your tongue?” he joked, but I didn’t laugh. “Hmmm, maybe that’s a good idea. If I cut that fucking tongue out of your mouth, you wouldn’t be able to run it so much and there’d be more room in there for my cock.”

  God, I wanted to gag.

  “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in prison,” I said around the lump in my throat.

  “Well, I got that sentence reduced to involuntary manslaughter. Got a good attorney,” he mock-whispered the last part like it was a joke of a secret.

  “They were supposed to notify me if you got out,” I argued ineffectively, because no one was there to hear my complaint.

  “A friend of a friend is real good with computers. Your phone number and address just might have been changed in the system.” He gave an exaggerated shrug and leered at me.

  “But I don’t understand how you knew I was here.”

  “Remember what I said? Friend of a friend is real good with computers. Once I knew what area you’d gone to, it was easy to locate you. Hell, I probably could’ve found you myself but he made it quicker. It’s not like you moved here under witness protection. Did you think I wouldn’t come for you? Because I told you I would. You’re Mine.” He whispered the last part with a sinister smile.

  I whimpered. The district attorney had actually wanted me to do something similar to witness protection because of the situation and what they were trying to bust his club for. At least temporarily, anyway, but I’d refused. I’d foolishly thought my moving away was enough.

  Not waiting for me to answer, he continued with his story, continuing to brag as my stomach revolted.

  “It’s funny how small of a world the federal system is.” He gave a humorless laugh. “It would seem one of your clients had a husband in prison with us. Poor bastard ended up getting shanked because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. Of course, in some aspects, that played out well for me. Wouldn’t want his flapping mouth to let the cat out of the bag about what we had planned.” He gave an evil leer. “When you’re in prison, life and survival becomes about who you know. I knew a lot of people; he didn’t.”

  I knew exactly who he was talking about. Winslow Masters. He’d gone to prison for kidnapping and assaulting his ex-wife, who I’d represented. All because she’d “had the audacity” to leave him and take their children. She’d ended up in the hospital in critical condition after he’d dumped her down by the docks.

  “But what does Smoke’s club have to do with any of this? I don’t understand.”

  He chuckled darkly. “A little friend of your boy’s club was in my block. We’d already become acquainted and he knew all about you, so when he overheard your client’s husband talking about you he listened closely. He knew I was going to find you after I got out, but what neither of us realized was that you’d moved. At least until he overheard that dumbass say he’d tried to go after you after his wife, but you’d moved. How convenient was it that my friend overheard all of that? Seems like fate.” The smile he gave me screamed insanity, and I had to wonder if I’d been oblivious back then or if his cheese had completely slipped off his cracker. He had become volatile, and I’d caught him using drugs, which was why I’d broken things off. When I took out the restraining order, I’d found out he was a member of the Bloody Scorpions.

  He continued, “So after getting my early release for my ‘angelic’ behavior, I came on up here to follow through with my end of the bargain.”

  “What bargain?” Though I was encouraging his bragging, it was buying me time. I kept hoping that Smoke or Anthony would come in to see what was taking me so long to go to lunch.

  A phone vibrated on the corner of my desk. My eyes widened when I realized Toby had left his phone. Except Deacon completely ignored it.

  “In exchange for the news about your move, the alteration of your contact info, and your location, I agreed to deal with my friend’s little thorn in his side—your new old man and his club. What a coincidence, huh? First, I decided to play with that pretty little daughter of his, but she snuck out on me after I was so nice by providing the party favors. But it’s okay. I’ll get to her after I pick the rest of them off one by one.” His grin was downright maniacal, and it sent shivers down my spine.

  “I’m not going anywhere with you.” I stood up straight and hid my fear. Until he lifted his shirt and pulled out a wicked-looking knife. One that had what looked suspiciously like smeared blood on it. My breaths turned ragged as I began to panic.

  That’s when the door flew open.

  “Hey, Nova, I forgot my phone,” Toby began as he stepped in, initially unaware that Deacon was there. Deacon didn’t hesitate. Before I could shout a warning, he whipped the knife through the air and it sank into the side of Toby’s chest with a sickening thunk.

  It was like a slow-motion portion of a horror film as I screamed.

  Wide-eyed, Toby stumbled back into the door, causing it to bang against the wall, then fell to his side, gasping and holding the knife. Deacon calmly walked over to him, placed a booted foot to his chest, and rolled him to his back.

  “I’ll be taking that back.” He jerked the knife out of Toby, causing Toby to yell out in agony and slap his hands over the bleeding wound. “Thanks, buddy.”

  Then he turned back to me as if he hadn’t just mortally wounded a man. “Now, where were we? Oh yeah, grab your fucking shit, Nova.” He wasn’t smiling anymore, and I whimpered.

  Clutching my purse to my chest like a shield, I glanced to where Toby was struggling with uneven breaths, and tears slipped down my cheeks. He was looking from me to the door like he wanted me to run. For a second, I measured the distance and considered it.

  There was no way I’d make it past Deacon. Then I thought about trying to run in the heels I had on and I remembered how good Deacon was with that knife. I wouldn’t make two strides before it was buried in my back.

  “Go out the back door.” He stepped up behind me and grabbed my hair, causing me to suck air in sharply.

  Every office we passed on the way out was
closed up, and I wanted to sob. When I reached the back door, I unlocked it and stepped out into the blinding sun. Momentarily unable to see, I paused.

  “Move!” he whispered into my ear as he let go of my hair. “You try anything stupid, and I’ll slit that beautiful throat before you make it far. Understand?”

  “O-Okay,” I stuttered.

  “Good girl. We’re taking your car.”

  Anthony’s bike was still next to my car but there was no sign of him. Grayson should’ve been there by then, and my heart ached with worry that Deacon had already gotten to him. I sent up a prayer for them and Toby as I unlocked my car doors.

  As I slid into the hot interior, I dropped my purse. Several pens and miscellaneous items fell out. That’s when I saw the small pistol that Smoke had insisted I keep in there. I knew it was loaded and I knew it was chambered.

  “Pick it up!” Deacon growled at me from the passenger seat where he held the ugly, bloody knife to my thigh. “I’ll stab you in your femoral artery without batting an eye, bitch. Get it and let’s go. I have big plans for you.”

  Again my stomach churned, and as I picked my purse up, I leaned out the door and puked my guts up.

  “Jesus fucking Christ! Close that goddamn door. That’s disgusting,” he complained.

  Nearly gagging on the taste that was still in my mouth, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and grabbed the door handle.

  I shoved my purse between me and the door after I closed it. Knowing it was a now or never moment, I moved as fast as I could. The gun was in my hand and pointed his direction within seconds, but as I pulled the trigger, he stabbed the knife deep into my leg.

  Pure adrenaline pumped through my veins, and at first I didn’t feel it. Nor did I realize the hand holding the knife was lax against my thigh.

  On the verge of hyperventilating, I stared in horrified fascination at the abstract explosion in the passenger seat. I’d never seen anything so gruesome, but I couldn’t look away.

  The echo of the gun firing seemed to resonate through the car. The only thing I heard over the sound was the uneven burst of my rasping breaths. As the adrenaline began to subside, I broke out in a sweat and fought passing out from the pain.

  There was no way I could move. I could barely stay conscious.

  Vaguely I was aware of people gathering around the car. My eyes were rolling back in my head as my door was ripped open and my purse fell to the ground. All I could think was that it had likely fallen in my vomit.

  I wanted to laugh at the disgusting irony, but it came out sounding more like an asthmatic hyena.

  “Nova!” My head slowly lolled toward the now open door.

  “Fucking hell.” I think it was Straight that said it, but I couldn’t focus.

  “Baby, look at me. Someone already called for an ambulance. I just need you to stay with me.” Grayson sounded so strong. So in control. Always in control.

  “I love you,” I choked out. I was so afraid of dying without being able to say that one more time.

  “No. Don’t you check out. This isn’t arterial. You stay with me and everything is gonna be okay. You hear me?” he demanded. “Where is that fucking ambulance?” he shouted over his shoulder. I couldn’t make out what was murmured back to him.

  Focusing on him, I fought the black that threatened.

  “That’s right, baby. You look right here. We’re gonna get you to the hospital, get you stitched up, and everything’s gonna be just fine, okay?” Was it my imagination, or did his voice waver a little?

  His eyes looked all shiny and such a pale green they nearly appeared white.

  “I’m o-okay,” I tried to reassure him.

  His hand stroked my cheek and my hair as the sound of sirens registered with me. It was nearly ninety-five degrees, but I was getting cold as hell. My teeth started chattering.

  It looked like a tear slipped from one of his eyes, and he stepped back to be replaced by a paramedic asking me questions I couldn’t understand. My eyes were seeking the ones I’d been told to focus on.

  When they worked me out of the car, agony shot through me, centered in my right thigh. I thought I screamed, but honestly, I’m not sure if any sound came out. I’d lost my focus, and everything was a blur. The only thing I was sure of was that a thick, callused hand held mine tight the entire way to the hospital.

  The next thing I remembered was looking around in a drugged haze. Everything was so bright.

  “Goddammit! Motherfucker!” Choking followed, then groans.

  “Well, it looks like your boyfriend survived” was mumbled next to me, and I blinked heavy lids as I slowly turned my head.

  “Boyfriend?” I said through a cotton-filled mouth.

  A chuckle came from the hazy figure next to me. Blinking was so fucking hard, but I did it several times to clear my vision. “Hello, beautiful.”

  “I should be saying that to you,” he said as he laughed. Then he kissed my cheek. “Goddammit, Nova, you scared the fuck out of me.”

  “Like ah did it on purpose. And Toby ain’t ma boyfren, you erss,” I slurred.

  “Damn straight,” he confirmed.

  “Drink,” I demanded. “Mouth like shit.”

  Again he laughed, kissed my head, then reached over and brought a mug close and placed the straw between my lips. Desperate, I started to pull in as much as I could, but he took it away, causing water to drip on my chest.

  “Easy. They said small sips.” He smiled as he instructed me.

  “Fuck them. I’m dyin’ uff thirst.”

  “No, you’re not. Give it a minute and I’ll give you another sip.”

  “Sip, schmip,” I grumbled, still feeling loopy from the effects of the pain meds.

  “In case you were wondering, you have a bunch of stitches to match Drew. But like him, you’re going to be okay. They are only keeping you until you’re completely awake and you’ve been able to eat a little something and drink.”

  “Then gimme more water.” I pouted.

  “In a minute,” he said. He looked around, then climbed his big ass up in the bed on my left side. He had to lie on his side and I knew he was still probably smushed.

  “What are you doin’?” I grinned as my mind and body began to wake up more.

  “Holding my baby,” he said into my hair as he wrapped a giant arm around me.

  I grinned like a simpleton. “Oh, yeah? What if I call the nurse and tell on you?”

  He teasingly bit the shell of my ear.

  “Ouch!” I mock squealed.

  “Nova. Look at me.” He was suddenly serious.

  I blinked up at him, and my heart slammed against my ribs. Pretty sure it was trying to get to him, because he owned it.

  “Marry me, Nova.”

  “What?” My eyes popped wide. My heart stuttered, then took off racing.

  A soft tip of his lips widened into a crooked grin. “I want you to be my wife. I don’t want to waste another minute. Life is too unpredictable and too fucking short. You’re mine, and I want a ring on that finger to tell the world.”

  “I think I need another drink,” I whispered.

  He twisted to grab the mug from the small table. When he held it to my lips, I shook my head.

  “You said you wanted a drink.” He frowned.

  “I think I need that to be vodka,” I replied. He looked at me like I’d lost my mind.

  “The thought of marrying me that bad?”

  “Hell no, but I wasn’t sure you’d actually said it. So if I was dreaming, I need the alcohol to numb the pain.” I blinked and stared at him.

  His laughter shook me, and I flinched at the sharp pain that hit my leg from the movement. He saw it and immediately gave me a contrite kiss. “Sorry. So is that a yes?”

  Hope shone in his beautiful green eyes as he waited for my answer.

  “Yes,” I said on a soft breath.

  “Yes?” he confirmed.

  “Yes.”

  He shoved the straw at my mout
h, I drank, and he twisted to set it aside. He framed my face with one hand while he propped himself up on the other elbow. “Fuck, I love you.”

  Then he kissed me with everything he had and everything else faded away.

  “Superhero”—Through Fire

  Nova and Drew were out in the common area comparing scars as we sat around the table. It was a somber affair as we discussed everything that had gone down. In the span of less than three months, we’d lost a brother, a potential brother, and almost my ol’ lady. Add that to all the rest of the shit that had happened with Lock, Raiven, and Gwen, and it was getting old.

  “Anthony didn’t have family?” Straight asked.

  “Not that we could find,” replied Slice.

  “Who do you think the ‘friend’ was that sent Deacon?” Radar asked.

  “I’m not sure,” I started, but Lock looked up from where he’d been silently staring at his fingers on the table.

  “It was Viper,” he said.

  “What? How do you know?” I frowned.

  “Same prison. Same cellblock. I looked into it.” Lock’s reply was monotone.

  “Hey. I know what you’re thinking. Knock it the fuck off. This wasn’t your fault any more than it was Nova’s for that crazy fuck that she stupidly got engaged to before she found out he was nuts. Shit happens.” Though I was the pot calling the kettle black, because I still blamed myself for Check. I was trying to let it go.

  “Fuck, how is that asshole still fucking with us from prison?” groaned Styx.

  “Be patient. It will take a bit, but we’ll have him dealt with. I’ll make a few calls in the meantime,” I assured them. I’d be calling Morte.

  “Who do we think the other guy was?” Truth asked.

  “Still not a clue. Snow was able to confirm that the guy in the surveillance videos was Deacon, but we haven’t gotten the other guy on anything yet.” It was frustrating as hell.

  “We can hope that without his partner in crime, he ran for the hills,” added Styx. While I prayed he was right, my gut told me shit was far from over.

  “I kind of doubt it, but we’ll see,” I murmured as I tapped my fingers on the table.