Contents
Title Page
Rights
Dedication
Prologue
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN
SEVENTEEN
EIGHTEEN
NINETEEN
TWENTY
TWENTY-ONE
TWENTY-TWO
TWENTY-THREE
TWENTY-FOUR
EPILOGUE
DON’T FORGET:
Also by Jessica Gadziala:
About the author:
Stalk Her
Acknowledgments
WOLF
A Henchmen MC Novel
--
Jessica Gadziala
Copyright © 2016 by Jessica Gadziala
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for brief quotations used in a book review.
"This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental."
Cover Image Credit: shuttershock.com/glebTv
DEDICATION:
To the strong and silent types, a personal favorite of mine.
PROLOGUE
Detective Collings
He hated the new blood. He blamed his upcoming retirement. It was by some cruel twist of fate that five years shy of getting out of Navesink Bank and going somewhere, anywhere else, they decided to strap him with some kid greener than a Christmas tree. It wasn't that he didn't understand why they needed to put rookies like him with the old-timers, but that didn't mean he had the patience to deal with his gung-ho super cop crap.
See the new blood wasn't even from the area. He didn't understand the delicate balance that existed in Navesink Bank. Fact of the matter was, the law didn't run the town. Sure, they pitched in; they dealt with the robberies, domestic disputes, the occasional gang scuffle.
But there was no mistaking who owned their particular cesspool of a town, and that was the big time criminal enterprises. It was The Henchmen MC and their gun running; it was Richard Lyon and his cocaine; it was Hailstorm and their varied talents; it was even the family of loan sharks known as the Mallicks; it was the Grassi family and their docks; and it was the scumbag Lex Keith who dipped his hands into a little bit of everything: drugs, extortion, prostitution.
Collings had been a new blood once, testosterone flooding his balls, itching to take down every crooked mother fucker this side of the river. He lost a marriage and most of the custody of his daughter to his obsession back in those days. It didn't take him long after to figure out how things were. Half of the department was in one or more of the syndicate's pockets, so were the judges, so were the juries if it ever went that far. So while he kept his wallet and his bank account clear of dirty money, he learned his place early on. His place was not to stake out The Henchmen compound and try to find illegal guns. It wasn't his place to try to link Hailstorm to illegal skip chasing. It wasn't even his place to chase down the Mallicks when one of their clients ended up in the hospital with busted kneecaps.
Unfortunately, those were not concepts that the new blood understood as he paced in front of Collings' desk, arms flying out in agitation, trying to talk him into approaching the captain with some harebrained scheme to bring down Lex Keith's bloody reign.
"Son, I have cold beer and leftover Chinese to get home to. I don't need to..."
The explosions shook the building, shook the Earth underneath their feet. His new blood's eyes flew to his for a second before he was running out of the building, adrenaline, no doubt, coursing through his system.
Collings grabbed his gun with a sigh, realizing his beer and leftovers would have to wait as he slowly followed the kid outside.
ONE
Janie
My arm was on fire.
I didn't even feel it until I looked down and saw the familiar black sleeve of my sweatshirt was engulfed in flames. It was the adrenaline. My system was drunk with it. That's why I hadn't felt it. Every inch of me felt tingly and foreign, my ears muted and ringing from the sounds of the explosions. There were six of them placed around Lex's property. I know this because I was the one who put them there. I was also the one to throw Molotov cocktails through the windows of the first floor. The bottles were from the latest shipment of insanely priced whiskey Lex ordered that I intercepted. It was overkill. The bombs did their job, but, well, I really wanted to make sure the fucking place burned.
I whipped off my sweatshirt with a hiss, tossing it carelessly to the side. It was just more kindling for the fire. My forearm from wrist to elbow was violently red and peeling, distorting the tattoos underneath. It needed treatment as soon as possible; every second I wasted was increasing the very likely chance of a serious infection.
But I didn't care about that. What I cared about was making sure it was done.
The only thing in the world I had left to give a shit about was making sure my plan worked, making sure that Lex Keith was dead.
So, ignoring the charging bodies of Lex's guards, looking like headless chickens without the guidance of their leader, I flew through his burning grounds looking for the hidden doors to the basement. I knew they were around the side somewhere. Sure, at this point, I'd bet you're thinking how freaking stupid it was to go into the basement of a burning building in case, y'know, the place started falling apart and crashed down on me. But, well, some things were worth the risk. I needed to get down there and make sure the son of a bitch wasn't resting easy in his god damn panic room like the chickenshit he was.
"Knew it," I said, grabbing the handle to the walk-out that was hidden behind ornamental pine trees. I flew down the stairs, barely even pausing to notice the blood all over the floor. I knew who it belonged to, if the busted, bleeding face Alex was sporting was anything to go by when I saw her, Breaker, and Shooter on my way into the grounds. They were the reason the bombs went off that night- because Lex had Shooter in his basement, using him as leverage against his best friend Breaker so Breaker would kidnap and hold onto a hacker by the name of Alex. Problem being, Breaker didn't know Alex was a chick and Breaker didn't fuck with chicks. So when he got his hands on her and realized what Lex's plans were, he changed allegiances quick. They had been hiding out in his house trying to figure out how to get themselves and Shooter out of the shit situation.
Long story short, Alex decided she needed to get away from Breaker so he wasn't in danger because of her. I helped her do so. But before I could get her to a safer location, Lex got his paws on her. Cue Breaker who decided to try to single-handedly get them out. Leave it to a man to go in thinking he could take on an army all by himself. He'd have gotten them all killed if I hadn't been paying attention and pushed my plans ahead. The bombs gave them the distraction they needed to get out.
If they were smart, they were already on their way to Canada or Mexico. They needed to lie low and let things blow over. If I lived long enough, that was my plan too. The only difference was, I could never come back to Navesink Bank once everyone found out what I did.
But I couldn't think about that.
I tore through the door that led to the finished side of the basement, going behind the fancy bar he
had set up and flinging the bottles of alcohol onto the floor. I wasn't stupid. I knew the point of panic rooms was that they were virtually impenetrable, but there had to be a switch to open it somewhere.
"God damn it!" I screamed as I threw open the last cabinet and ran my hand over the smooth surfaces inside.
"Help." My ears were ringing and his voice was barely above a whimper, but I heard it. I flew upward, eyes darting around the room and landing on the prone body of someone in a suit in a corner. His face was busted, bloody, swollen, but I imagined he was good looking before he took his beating. The one eye that wasn't swollen shut was a piercing shade of green. I was ready to shrug and say 'fuck em' when I noticed his hands were cuffed.
"Damnit," I growled, moving around the bar toward him. I'd have been fine with one of his guards dying down there, but not some prisoner who probably did nothing but look at Lex the wrong way. "Why are you down here? The place is going to collapse in on itself soon."
"I think my leg is broken," he hissed as he moved out the leg in question. Through the leg of his slacks, I could see the edge of one of his bones sticking through the material and, therefore, his skin.
"You think?" I snorted, shaking my head.
I wasn't getting into the panic room. There was no way I'd have had the time to get the dude out and find the switch to unlock the door. I sighed as I lowered myself down beside him, wrapping an arm around his back and taking as much weight as my significantly more slight frame would allow. It was one thing that always pissed me off. No matter how much I trained, how good I got, I would never be able to best most of the men at Hailstorm, the lawless military camp I lived and worked at. I was small. I might have been fast and had good instincts in a fight, but when it came down to it, most of the time you won out of brute strength which meant I lost... a lot. And this guy had a good foot and seventy-five pounds on me so when he leaned on me, I had to lock my knees so they didn't buckle.
"I'm Joshua," he said as he hopped alongside me across the basement.
"I'm not exactly in the making friends mood, Josh. You just fucked up my plans."
"Which were?" he asked, his face twisted up in pain.
I figured he needed to talk to distract himself from the fact that an inside part of his body was suddenly halfway outside, so I decided to humor him. "To kill Lex Keith."
"Was this you?" he asked, waving his free hand around. At my tight nod, he let out a laugh/snort hybrid. "Guess I owe you a thank you then, huh?"
"For?" I asked, wincing as we started up the stairs, my free hand a death grip on the railing so I didn't topple over.
"If this place didn't blow up, I'd be dead," he ground out as we surfaced back on the grass.
From a distance, I could hear sirens. I needed to get the hell out of there. "Better a cripple than a corpse I suppose."
"There's no hope of walking without a limp is there?" he asked, already knowing the answer.
"No," I told him honestly. I was never the kind to sugarcoat anything. "But I'm sure you'll be able to pull off a cane. I need to drop you off by the gate," I told him as we hobbled down the driveway. "And then you need to forget you saw me."
"You're just going to leave me?" he asked and I could feel his eyes on me, accusing me, silently calling me heartless.
"Would you prefer I stick around and get my ass locked up after saving your life... twice?"
"I see your point," he conceded as we stepped through the blown-open gates.
"The cops are already almost here. They'll be coming up the hill in five, maybe ten. I need to get out of here. You never saw me," I reminded him, propping him up against the guard booth.
"Saw who?" he asked and I nodded, giving him one last look.
"Chances are, he's still alive. He obviously has it out for you. My advice? Turn State's Evidence or get the fuck out of here as soon as you're out of surgery." With that, I tore off down the road, praying I still had enough of a head start to get shot of the cops.
I was fifteen minutes outside of Lex's area when it came over me. That's how it was at times. I didn't have to be over-thinking, stressing about it. Sometimes it crept up unexpected and crippling. My lungs felt on fire from running and I dropped to my knees on the side of the back road on a loud sob.
I failed.
I failed and now I was never going to feel like I could breathe free.
My hands moved up to cover my face, trying like hell to fight back the tears. I didn't cry. I couldn't. I wouldn't let myself. If I started, I knew I was never going to stop. So for eight years, I choked them back.
And that was exactly what I was trying to do when I heard the rumble of a truck move past me then idle a few yards ahead of where I was still knees down in the dirt.
"Just keep going. Just keep going," I mumbled to myself, hoping they decided they weren't that good of people and went about their business.
I heard the door slam and the footsteps as they approached.
Damn it.
I gulped in a breath that burned like acid fog in my lungs, trying to pull it together and face whoever the hell it was who decided to stop and help the random chick on the side of the road.
"Woman," a deep, rough voice called, making my head snap up.
Oh for Christ's sake.
And there he was... all five-million feet of him. Not really, but the guy was tall, six-six if he was an inch. He also had the width to go along with the height- solid shoulders, broad chest, strong down the center, legs like freaking tree trunks. He had on black jeans that were neither tight nor loose and fit like jeans were supposed to fit which was refreshing amongst the sea of hipsters and wannabe gangsters. His black tee was slim cut and did nothing to hide the brute strength underneath the material. His leather cut was worn and soft-looking, having gotten that way from the daily wear of it since the day he turned eighteen. I didn't have to see the back to know what emblem I would find there.
The Henchmen MC.
I also didn't have to ask to know that he wasn't just any member; he was the road captain. He was the third in command behind Reign, the leader, and Cash, Reign's brother.
I knew all of this because about a year before, Hailstorm had worked a job with the three of them (plus some young kid named Repo who wasn't patched-in yet). Reign got himself wrapped up with a woman who belonged to V, the area's biggest skin trader. And when V came and took the girl, Summer, back, Reign came to Hailstorm asking for help. Lo, the hopeless romantic she is, had agreed and we had gone in all guns ablazing, action movie style.
As such, I found an unlikely accomplice to this night's activities.
Summer had followed my instructions to a T.
The mammoth in front of me was coming back from her house where I had asked her to have him, Cash, Lo, and Summer's father, Richard Lyon, to a dinner party.
In about two minutes, the giant would be getting a phone call telling him that his compound was bombed as well. I knew this because I bombed that too.
It's a long story.
"Leave me alone, Wolf," I demanded, keeping my eyes off his face. I didn't have to look to know that his freaky honey-colored eyes were fixed on me, that beneath his dark beard, his mouth was in a firm line. He was actually a really good-looking guy if you were into the mountain-man biker sort. Luckily for me, I wasn't into anyone of any sort. But that didn't mean I could meet his gaze. There was something about it that made me feel exposed, vulnerable... like he knew. Though he couldn't know, not really. No one did except Lo. And even Lo didn't know the whole story.
"No," he said after a long minute, making my head shoot up and, just as I had expected, I felt naked underneath his gaze.
"Oh, don't be trying to pull that macho bullshit with me, Wolf. I said leave me alone."
"I said no."
Christ. He was a stubborn fuck too. Wonderful. That was just what I needed.
"I don't need your..."
"I'll call Lo."
I shot
to my feet on a hysterical, "No!" that made his brows draw together.
"No Lo," he said in a way that was half a declaration and half a question.
"No Lo," I confirmed, trying to slow my frantic heartbeat. If there was one person I couldn't face right then... or ever again, it was Lo.
I was so caught up in my own worries about Lo that I didn't see his eyes move from my face and settle on my arm until I felt his vice-like grip close around my wrist and pull it upward. My eyes moved up to his face, looking for some kind of reaction, but he gave me nothing.
If there was one thing that Wolf was, aside from wholly incapable of stringing together a complete sentence, it was unflappable. He was calm, steady, stalwart. He never gave anything away.
His eyes slowly moved to my face and he let out a heavy breath, his head shaking slightly and I knew he knew. He knew I set the bombs.
"Fuck, woman..."
Yeah... that about covered it.
TWO
Wolf
Dinner party was weird as shit.
Wouldn't have gone at all if, when I tried to refuse Summer, her eyes didn't fill up.
Couldn't fucking make her cry over something as stupid as my presence at a dinner party.
So I went.
I ate.
I got the fuck out of there.
Why she wanted to have us all over at once: gun runners, drug dealers, and the leader of a lawless army was beyond me.
Women...
The bombs started when I was halfway home, making the ground shake, forcing me to pull over and see what the fuck was going on. Down the hill, Lex Keith's McMansion was ablaze. I'm not gonna lie- seeing that almost gave me a Cheshire cat grin. I stood there for a long minute, hands tucked in my pockets, watching the evil bastard's little minions run around like idiots without their ever-present leadership to tell them what to do.
Wolf (The Henchmen MC #3) Page 1