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Bash, Volume I (Rolling Thunder Motorcycle Club Book 3)

Page 13

by Candace Blevins


  I swallowed my steak, took a drink of water, and said, “Then maybe I should worry you, because while I’m sorry someone had to die, I don’t feel bad for being the one forced to make it happen.”

  He shook his head. “It isn’t your first kill. The first is the worst, and you dealt with it way too young. You’re right about this guy — he didn’t give you a choice, and you shouldn’t feel bad or guilty or responsible. You did what you had to do, and I always want you to make that choice when someone’s pointing a gun your direction.”

  He went to the living room when I stood to put my dishes in the sink, and by the time I’d made it in there, he’d made himself comfortable, stretched out on my sofa. He wouldn’t consider taking my bed, and after a few minutes I gave up and asked my last series of questions before I finally went to bed.

  “What was the deal with Bash practically challenging Duke in front of us?”

  “Duke lost a lot of respect during the kerfuffle that ran Brain away. Duke will step up, and if he won’t then Brain will… I just needed to give them privacy to work it out.” He shook his head. “I was loyal to Brain and had his back, made sure he was taken care of. He’ll do the same for you.”

  “And Duke?”

  “He probably will, but having Brain on our side gives us what we need. Having Bash in your corner gives us that much more — I’m just not sure how comfortable I am with Bash’s attention on you.”

  I yawned and headed back into my bedroom. “I won’t wake you when I leave in the morning. Make yourself at home, do what you need to do. If you’re here when I get off work, maybe we can check in on Thomas and then have a nice daddy-daughter dinner. If not, I’ll call or text to let you know where I’m staying.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Angelica

  Pablo had taken me to work that morning, and now he picked me up, since my dad had an issue he needed to handle in Atlanta. I told Pablo I needed to stop by the hospital before we went to the compound, and he agreed without arguing, thank goodness.

  Thomas’s sister was in his room with him, but said she’d take the opportunity to go downstairs and get something to eat while I was there. Pablo stood outside the room, playing the part of bodyguard.

  “How much have your guys told you about last night?” Thomas asked.

  “You’ve been wanting me to talk shit about the MC since our first conversation about them, so I’ll give you something,” I said with a grin. “I’m a woman, and that means they’re never going to talk to me about club business. I know they want a bodyguard on me, and want me sleeping at the compound a few nights, but they don’t tell me shit. The detective last night mentioned a turf war, so I can make some educated guesses from there.”

  “One of the two they questioned, spilled,” Thomas told me. “They were supposed to be watching you, getting your schedule, learning about you. They figured at some point it was likely you’d be kidnapped or killed, but they were only supposed to be observing.”

  “And you went running into the alley, right on top of them, and everything went to shit.”

  He nodded. “I know I was shot, and my recollection of events probably isn’t the most reliable, but you fought so fast, Angelica. Faster than humans should be able to move.”

  I shrugged. “All kinds of crazy things happen when adrenaline hits your system in that kind of situation. Time slows for some people, speeds up for others.” I’d used the adrenaline thing to explain away getting out of the cuffs, too. I was going to have to come up with something better, if I spent much more time around him.

  “Where did you learn to fight like that?”

  “My dad made sure I knew how to fight, and how to handle a firearm.”

  He shook his head. “I have a few cases with the Disciples on my desk, and I assumed they were there for me. Turns out they were there for you, but I’m not certain it matters. I criticized and disparaged you for carrying a gun, and then you saved my life with it.” He looked at his hands a few seconds, and back to me. “I’m sorry we fought, sorry for the things I said. I hope you’ll give me another chance.”

  “Let’s get you out of the hospital and see if you still feel the same.” And see if I can cuss enough for you to decide I’m not worth the trouble. “I’m going out with some people from work Saturday night, assuming the RTMC doesn’t still have me on lockdown.”

  “You have someone with you now?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, he’s out in the hall. He shaves and keeps his hair cut, and they know I don’t want to deal with the whole biker issue at work my first couple of weeks, so he’s dropping me off and picking me up.”

  “They aren’t offended?”

  I shrugged. “Some of them might be, but my dad, Duke, and Brain know me well enough to know I’m being realistic and not a snob. I don’t look down on them for being bikers, but this is my dream job and it’s likely my bosses and coworkers would see me in a different light if Bash, Brain, or Duke dropped me off on their bike.”

  “You’re a smart woman, and I admit part of me’s bothered that you’re still brainwashed into believing they’re the good guys.”

  “Yeah, I’m smart, and they’re my family, and I don’t want to argue anymore. Was your sister expecting me to stay until she got back?” If I gave him enough attitude, maybe he’d rethink whether he really wanted to keep chasing me.

  “No, I think she just wanted to give us some privacy. I’m glad you stopped by. I have my cellphone back now, and my laptop, so you can get me pretty much every way.”

  I kissed his forehead, he kissed the back of my hand, and I left.

  Pablo didn’t say a word, but I could feel and smell the conflict coming off him. He apparently didn’t approve of my conversation with the DA. Or, perhaps he just wasn’t happy about having to take me to see him.

  When we reached the parking lot, I slowed as I saw Bash parked behind Pablo’s car. He tossed me a helmet, and I thanked Pablo for picking me up and keeping me safe. He gave me a chin lift in answer, and got into his car.

  I put the helmet on and swung my leg over the back of the bike, snuggling in behind Bash. I wrapped my arm around him, laid my head on his back, put my feet on the pegs, and tapped his stomach.

  When we got to my apartment I debated talking to him about my jilling off at the party, and then us having sex in wolf form, but I chickened out. We needed to talk about it, but pretending it didn’t happen seemed easier, and since he wasn’t pushing the issue, I didn’t, either. I was glad things weren’t weird between us. They probably should’ve been, but we talked and cut up like always while I packed.

  Until he decided it was time to talk about something else I’d have rather not talk about, and he sat on my bed beside my suitcase and said, “Sometimes, a day or two after you take a life, it hits people. The gravity of it.”

  I looked at him a few seconds, debating my best answer. I didn’t want to have this conversation with him, and I wanted him to know someone else was handling the emotional fallout, because I really didn’t want him to know I was fine, with no emotional fallout. My dad had almost made me feel guilty, at first last night, for not feeling guilty.

  “My dad and I had a long talk about it last night. The guy barely missed me, even though he wasn’t that far away, and he’d made a correction and was about to fire again. I had to shoot him, I didn’t have a choice. Dad said the guy wasn’t married and didn’t have kids, so there isn’t any of that to feel guilty over, either.” I sighed. “Look, I understand you’re trying to help, and I appreciate it, but my dad’s going to make me talk to him about it until he’s sure there’s nothing else to say, and I’m not sure I’m up to doing the soul searching thing more than once.”

  “Okay, fair enough, but if you need someone to talk to and your dad isn’t here, you know I’ve killed before and can help you get through it.”

  The police had taken my gun as evidence, but I happened to have more than one Sig P938, and I grabbed another from the hiding place my dad had bu
ilt into my desk.

  I put my belly band on, but then thought twice and asked, “Do my Atlanta weapons privileges transfer up here?”

  “Not automatically. I’ll check with Duke.”

  He stepped out on the balcony to make the phone call, and when he came back in, told me, “He’s invoking the emergency clause, and he, Brain, and I agreed to it. You can take it, but he’d like you to leave it in the room we give you when you’re hanging out with us in the main room. He’s letting you bring it so you’ll have it if you leave the compound and aren’t heading to work, basically.”

  “Thanks for taking my side. I’ll be sure to thank Duke and Brain, later.”

  “You know the drill. Fastest way to get the guys comfortable with you is to spend time with everyone.”

  I rolled my bag beside the dining table and said, “Thomas told me you’re basically the RTMC pimp.”

  “You know I can’t discuss club business with you, Princess.”

  “Hypothetically speaking, if the club were to be in that business…” I shook my head. Duke had all but confirmed it, but I didn’t want to tell Bash about our conversation. I sighed. “I don’t know how or what to ask. I want to know how it works, how the girls are treated. So many questions, I don’t know where to start.”

  He looked at me a few seconds and said, “Rolling Thunder takes care of our employees and contractors. Waitresses at the bar, mechanics in the shop, lawyers, real estate agents… doesn’t matter — if they work for us, they’re ours, and if someone hurts them, there’s retribution. For someone in that line of work, knowing they have that kind of backing? It’s comforting.”

  “Yeah, I can see that.” I looked at his hands, beat to hell and back. “You haven’t changed since your last fight, I see.”

  He shrugged. “C’mon, Princess. Gonna stop and get take-out from Sticky Fingers on the way to the club. Make everyone watch and smell while we eat.”

  I grabbed the handle of my suitcase. “I’ll follow you in my car.”

  He took my suitcase away from me and rolled it to my front door. “I’ll follow you. Easier to keep an eye on you that way. I’m in bodyguard mode tonight and I need you to do as you’re told if a situation comes up, yeah?”

  I sighed and walked out with him as I said, “Yeah.”

  When we got to the clubhouse, Brain walked me and my bags to the basement, where I was pleased to discover I’d have a room to myself. It was the room the officers and their ol’ladies took when the club was in lockdown, but it had comfy beds and an attached bathroom, so it would work just fine for my purposes.

  “You’re free to use the workout room, and to be in this room and the bathroom down here, but stay out of the other rooms unless a brother escorts you. Upstairs, you’re cleared for the main rooms, and will need an escort anywhere else.”

  I didn’t take it personally. It was basic club rules, and they were making a pretty big exception to let me sleep down here. “Thanks for voting so I could bring my gun. I assume it’ll be okay in my bag down here? I brought a small safe, so no one can say I left it where a felon can get to it.” Said felons could break into the safe in less than ten minutes, probably, but this was about the law, not about common sense.

  “Yeah, it’s fine, and just so you know, Duke and I are available to you whenever you need anything. You have my number, don’t hesitate to use it.”

  “Do we know anything else about the Disciples’ intentions? Why they were watching me?”

  “Workin’ on it. You get anything else outta the DA?”

  “Just that they were watching me, learning my schedule for a possible future abduction, which is information I’d have thought the MC would’ve shared with me.”

  “We’re figuring things out, Angelica. You’re female, but you aren’t an ol’lady, or even a club slut. If you were the kid of a Chattanooga patch we’d know what to do with you. You’re friends with enough of us, we’re comfortable giving you privileges usually only afforded ol’ladies, but you’re gonna need a majority club vote to get them.”

  “I’m not arguing that, Brain, but when my life is in danger because of my relationship with the MC, I’d like to think you can be open with me about the details without divulging club business.”

  “Point taken. Can’t make promises but I’ll do what I can.”

  It was as good as I was likely to get, so I nodded and followed him into the hallway.

  When we got back to the main room, Duke jumped up on a little platform and the room went silent. “For those who haven’t met her yet, Angelica is sitting with Bash and Brain. You’ve all met Bud in Atlanta, and she’s his daughter. We threw a welcome party for her, everyone should know who she is, but I want to reiterate her status as one of ours. You’ll all treat her with respect or you’ll answer to me.”

  “It true she’s datin’ the DA?” a huge, monstrosity of a werewolf asked.

  “He keeps a second residence in her apartment complex and they’ve spent some time together,” Duke told him. “She’s been upfront with both myself and her father about it. Angelica grew up in the life and Rolling Thunder is her family. I trust her completely.”

  Duke looked to Brain, who stood and said, “Due to the threat against her — Duke, Bash, and I voted the emergency clause to let her bring her weapon onto the compound. It’ll stay put away while she’s here, but this way she’ll have it when she leaves the safety of the compound. She has full weapons privileges in Atlanta, and has since she was sixteen. Once everyone gets to know her a little better, we’ll consider bringing it to a vote here.”

  Bash and I ate as Duke went back to talking, and when he finished, he came to sit with us as well, nursing a beer as he watched the game on the big screen TV.

  A window popped open in the corner of the television, showing Gen driving onto the lot, and then went back to the game. Duke stepped outside, and I wadded up a napkin and threw it at Bash’s head. He caught it with a grin and threw it back. I reached out to snag it, but just set it down. I wasn’t sure where I was going with it, I’d just wanted to play around. “Any chance I can talk you into taking me for a ride once the sun goes down?”

  “You got me for about another hour and a half, and then I got business. We can take a ride when we finish eating, if you want.”

  So, someone was taking over his post some, but apparently not for the time I was likely to be safely ensconced in the compound. If I was going to be here much, I’d need to keep my finger on the pulse of who had power, and who wanted it.

  I shook my head to let him know I wasn’t up for a ride, after all. “No, neither of us does very good with time limits. I’ll take a raincheck for a time when we have hours and hours, if we want them.”

  Thirty minutes later I was on one of the sofas, sitting between Gen and Bash, yelling at the game along with the men.

  Chapter Twenty

  Bash

  Angelica fit in with the MC as if she’d always been here. In a way, she had. Not here, exactly, but she’d grown up around bikers, she understood the life, and she already knew some of us and had no problems getting to know the others.

  I’d known I didn’t have the entire evening with her, but when my phone went off thirty minutes before I had to leave, and I saw it was Slick, I was tempted to ignore it. I couldn’t, though, so I stepped out of the room as I answered.

  “I think we need you down here, Bash.”

  “Problem?”

  “Maybe. Girl walked in off the street wanting a job, and something isn’t right. Something’s very wrong, actually.”

  “Okay, be there in ten to fifteen.”

  I came back into the room, pulled Angelica up, and wrapped my arms around her, my lips going to her ear. “Club business, gotta go. Give me a hug.”

  She did, and I nodded to the room, most of whom were looking at me in shock as I walked out of the door.

  Angelica was off limits, and I’d just told the MC I had a connection with her. Not necessarily a sexual one, but a persona
l one, certainly. I’d claimed her, in a way, and I had no idea what had possessed me to do it.

  I’d grown up in an off-the-grid compound of lone wolves. Not bikers, not Pack. We were prepared for the apocalypse, or the fall of democracy, or a bank crash, or whatever end-of-the-world-as-we-know-it scenario was popular at the time.

  At fifteen, I’d come upon my sister having to fight off the boy who lived down the street a few miles. He was Pack, and a lot stronger than her.

  He wasn’t stronger than me, though. He was my first kill, and I never regretted it. Luckily, we were ten feet from the river banks when I killed him, and I swam out into the channel with his body, large rocks tied to him to weigh him down, and I let him go at the deepest part. I dug all the dirt up where he attacked my sister, and where I’d killed him, and tossed it into the river.

  Lady luck was on my side, because about three hours later it started raining, and kept at it for two days. No one ever found the body, and no one ever suspected my sister or me in his disappearance.

  Not quite a year later, when I was sixteen, I came home to find men in our house, trying to get into the gun safe.

  I killed all three of them.

  Turns out, their wives and girlfriends had known their plans, and when they didn’t come home, they made something up about the men having business at our place. It was a terrible, awful clusterfuck, and our attorney just barely got me off a triple murder conviction.

  One of the men was a police officer’s brother, so the local cops had it out for me. My dad knew Bud from way back, and he sent me to Atlanta even before I was eighteen, because if I’d stayed in town even a week longer I’d have been back in jail, and there’s a good chance I’d have died there. The police were trying to rile my temper, and it was only a matter of time before they did. We all knew it, even me.

 

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