“Creating the ultimate men’s retreat, apparently.”
“Knowing him there will be plenty of lovely displays of taxidermy, sub woofers with loud music and a stripper pole right in the middle of his living room.”
“You know he’s going to have girls in and out of there…” Colt said with a smirk.
“Which is exactly why he’s out there and not in here.”
“We’re going to bed…” Averi said as she gave Shelly a kiss on her cheek. She hugged Tim and made her way towards the stairs. Colt followed her, resting his hand on her back as he guided her up the steep stairway.
They traveled down the long hallway admiring the family pictures that Randy had hung up on the wall. Colt choked when he saw that the primary focal point of the wall was an 8x10 portrait of Randy dressed in his tux at their wedding.
“He’s not vain at all.”
“He’s special alright.”
After a good laugh, the pair traveled down to the master bedroom. Colt stripped off his shirt, kicked off his jeans and fell into bed. Averi followed him, wearing one of his old t-shirts. She climbed into bed with him and rubbed her fingers into his sore back.
He grunted, “That feels good.”
“You’ve got to be exhausted.”
“I’m alright. Are you happy?” Colt asked, referring to the house.
“The happiest. I still can’t believe you agreed to everyone being together.”
“We’re a dysfunctional family, but we’re still family. It’s important that we all stay together. Especially in times like these.”
“I’m so glad everyone finally sees it my way,” said Averi.
She caressed his stubbled cheek and brought his soft lips to hers, planting a sweet kiss on his mouth. Colt leaned back on his pillow and gave Averi a look of caution.
“Maybe now the phone calls will stop,” Colt said referring to Jimmy’s endless barrage of unwanted calls to their landline phone back at the old house.
“Please. I don’t want to talk about Jimmy,” said Averi in a pleading voice.
“Well what do you want to talk about?” Colt asked with a mischievous smile on his face.
“I don’t want to talk at all,” she said pulling Colt in closer.
Colt laughed as he pulled Averi on top of him. Her long hair fell down over his chest as she bent down to kiss him on his mouth. Her hands lingered over his chest, running her nails down his abs never breaking eye contact. Colt ran his tongue over his teeth and said, “C’mon… Let’s give that baby some dimples!”
Averi screamed, “Colt! So bad!”
But that didn’t stop him from making love to his wife as much and as long as he wanted. Pulling Averi on top of him, he pulled off her t-shirt and watched as her long hair fell over her swollen breasts. Running his hands over her belly and cupping her breasts. Her eyes traced the sculpted lines of his chest, his broad shoulders and his sinfully sexy mouth. She bent down to kiss him.
“How could you still find me sexy when I look like this…?”
Colt couldn’t believe his ears. He sat up in bed with Averi still straddling his lap.
“Ave… You’re my wife and you’re pregnant with my baby. That’s the sexiest thing in the world to me.”
“Cornball…” Averi said and she laughed.
Averi could call him whatever she wanted, he was still going to have his way. Pushing her hair back over her shoulder. He looked directly in her eyes.
“You seem to forget the pudgy little kid with ratty clothes and braces that used to follow you around.”
Averi laughed, “I loved that little boy.”
“And he loved you.”
“What we have is deeper than all that. When we’re old and walking with canes and yelling at each other to speak up because we forgot we had turned our hearing aids off, I’ll still love you.”
Colt ran his hands over Averi’s full breasts, over her belly and down her legs. Even swollen and pregnant she turned him on.
“Hearing aids and canes and senility… You have the best pillow talk, baby,” Averi said with a smile. Averi could joke all she wanted, it didn’t make his words any less sentimental. Straddling his lap, she wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him to her mouth. Her lips caressing against his, they forgot all about the stress of moving day. Falling back on their pillows, they sunk into a deep sleep. While hell was raised and lines were crossed in Oakeley, everything was quiet at the Hall Ranch.
Chapter Twelve
The full arsenal of the Seventy Devils motorcycle club was sitting on the table, waiting to be claimed. Not all of the Devils would be attending tonight’s “field trip,” though. Jimmy had groups of them scattered throughout Oakeley. It was insurance in the chance that Randy and Colt weren’t at home.
Dave Grisham was behind the bar passing out shots and chilled mugs overflowing with beer. A busty woman with voluminous platinum blonde hair joined Dave behind the bar. She greeted him by sticking her tongue down his throat. He showed his approval of her greeting by slapping her on her round ass before ordering her to help pour some drinks. She did as she was told, no questions asked. A younger woman with sleek ombre hair, a curvaceous figure and a pair of deep blue eyes came behind the bar and slumped down into a folding chair with a defeated look upon her face.
“What’s the problem now, Cheyenne?” asked Dave with a cigar hanging off his lip.
“Looks like man problems…” said Gina West, Cheyenne’s mother and Dave’s wife.
“Or lack thereof…” Dave said casting a look towards Trent Myers who was sitting at the bar just a few feet away. His black hair hung past his shoulders and he had the face of an angel. Too bad his soul belonged to a demon. A broad smile grew across Trent’s face as he pulled his grimy fingers through his long black hair. He winked at Cheyenne. She snarled in return.
“Go away, Trent! I fucking hate you!” Cheyenne yelled.
How was it possible to hate someone so much but be too afraid to tell him no? Cheyenne thought.
She had reason to hate Trent. Damn good reason. But she had enough reason to hate herself, too.
“What’s your problem, girl?!” Gina asked giving Cheyenne a wayward look.
Casting her eyes to the floor, Cheyenne said, “He’s not answering my calls.”
“Well honey, do you blame him? He caught you in the sack with this one…” Dave said.
“Shut up!” Cheyenne vented, “You’re not my father, so quit actin’ like it!”
Dave had a smug look on his face.
“I’m more of one than anyone else was to you. Deal with it, buttercup!”
“Here,” said Gina as she poured a scotch glass with something hard. Amber-colored alcohol swirled in the glass. “Drink this because you’re annoying the shit out of me.”
Rolling her eyes, Cheyenne lifted the glass and eyed it precariously. With her previous run-ins with drugs and alcohol, she was leery of touching anything that would mess with her inhibitions, especially after losing Randy forever because of it.
“Pound it! You’ll feel better…” said Dave, who was full aware of her struggle with alcoholism and drug addiction.
“Shit…” Cheyenne groaned as she pounded back the drink. The whiskey burned as it passed down her throat. Almost immediately, a glazed look took over her eyes.
“So Trent,” Gina began. “When ya gonna make an honest woman outta my girl here?”
Gina winked at Trent.
“She’s pissed at me. She’ll get over it though. They always do.”
It was widely known that the Seventy Devils were a lawless bunch. They abided by a loose code of conduct, with “loose” being the operative word. The lawlessness carried over into their marriages and relationships. Every Devil had a mistress and every wife had a man on the side. Cheyenne loved Randy but she was susceptible to temptation, especially considering the upbringing she had. She watched her mother go from man to man, five ex-husbands total. Then she decided to stick with Dave. He was a re
al prince charming compared to some of them. But for Cheyenne, Randy was the one. He treated her well, and though he had his moods, he was a good guy. They were together for six years until she got mixed up with the wrong crowd. Trent’s crowd. She started popping pills, smoking weed, drinking heavily every day. He broke up with her because he felt like he didn’t even know her anymore. She was lying, stealing… not from him, but from other people. Two years had passed, and although Randy missed her, he wasn’t ready to take her back into his life unless he knew she had cleaned up her act. Then, one fateful day, he saw her. She was coming out of the business center on Monument Avenue dressed in a sleek white dress with her naturally brown hair styled in soft finger waves. He couldn’t believe his eyes. They struck up a conversation and Randy learned that she had been clean for six months, was working a full time job and volunteering at church. Their flame rekindled. Randy wanted to take it slow, but as each day went on, he realized how much he loved her. On September 10th, just two weeks after reconnecting with her, Randy purchased an engagement ring. He hadn’t told anyone. He took the day off, headed straight to the jeweler in San Antonio and came back to his apartment. But when he came home, he found something unexpected. The love of his life in the arms of another man. Not just any man though, the man who got her addicted to drugs in the first place: Trent Myers. She was high as a kite, and Trent was indignant. Pulling Trent off of Cheyenne, he sent a sucker punch flying towards his face, breaking his nose and fracturing his jaw. From that day forward, Randy had vowed never to speak to Cheyenne again. With every call, every text, his heart continued to break. He was ready to move on. He distracted himself with short flings, but found himself unable to trust a woman other than his sister, Averi. Cheyenne knew she screwed up. Bad. And she spent her time, each and every day beating herself up over it. But no matter how much she loved Randy, she still found Trent to be irresistible. He was dangerous but he was sexy as hell and when he put on the charm, he got whatever he wanted. He had the looks of a rock star, the charm of a playboy and the sex appeal of Adonis. Not to mention a violent streak that made Cheyenne afraid to cross him.
Trent cast a mischievous look Cheyenne’s way. He certainly knew how to change the direction of the tide when it came to her.
“Come on, girl. Come dance wit’ me…” Trent said with a voice like velvet. Cheyenne was about to tell him no when she felt his nails dig into the skin of her arm.
“I ain’t asking.”
A song came on the jukebox that Cheyenne didn’t recognize. As Trent pulled her to the center of the room, a war waged within her heart. Was her love for Randy stronger than her attraction to Trent? With the whiskey clouding her judgment, she wasn’t so sure. Randy was never coming back. She knew that for sure. She felt it in the very core of her being. Why would he? She had ruined any shot of making things work out. She couldn’t be trusted. That was for sure. Shit, she couldn’t even trust herself.
Cheyenne looked at Trent’s face reluctantly. He could be so sweet when he wanted to be, but she knew it was an act. A show to get what he wanted. Resigning herself to the fact that Randy would never take her back, she gave herself to the one person who wanted her at that moment. As Trent wrapped her in his arms, he whispered ever so softly in her ears, “I’ll show you how a real man treats a woman like you.”
As Dave watched Trent escort Cheyenne out of the bar, he sent a text to him saying, “Keep her distracted.”
Chapter Thirteen
Back at Police headquarters, Captain Shawn Hall wore a pensive look on his face. He surveyed Officers Pressley and Ramone as they went over the evidence in the case. They were both new to the task, but they were seasoned officers and Shawn was certain that they would uphold the integrity of the force and seek justice accordingly. That’s exactly what the Captain wanted. Not for innocent men to be blamed or framed. It was only a matter of time now before the truth came out.
A new video had surfaced of a man in a grey hooded sweatshirt walking through the hospital doors about twenty minutes prior to the time of the murder. While it was still hard to make out the man’s face, the profile was pretty unmistakable. Pressley’s eyebrows raised as his eyes went to the Captain’s face and back to the screen.
Interesting.
Things were going according to plan, though. Shawn had gotten the Devils off the force and got the police looking at other potential leads, rather than at Colt and Randy. He just had a few loose ends to take care of before he would tell the world what he had done to protect his town. It would come at a cost. His freedom. Nothing, not even jail time, could take away the deep satisfaction of avenging his sister’s death and ridding the world of a violent and deranged killer.
Sometimes the only way to fight fire is with fire and if you want to beat the devil, you’ve got to drag him back to the gates of hell yourself.
Chapter Fourteen
Jimmy strolled in at half past midnight, reeking of alcohol with the faint trace of cocaine on his lips. His movements were erratic, disjointed and unpredictable. The lights of his eyes danced with a quivering madness and unseen delusions. He was more like his father than most gave him credit for. Putting two fingers to his mouth, Jimmy let out a blood curdling whistle. Just like that, all eyes were on him.
“Braun… Carson… Demecio… Go to the gas station on Route 1. Grisham… Hugh… Fedorico… Head on up to Monument Avenue. Keep an eye on his garage. McMannis… Cox… Felice… Reed’s Gym. Gunnar… assemble the rest outside. We leave in ten.”
Gunnar nodded in agreement.
“Let me make one thing perfectly clear. The woman is to be brought back here, untouched. She is mine. Kill the rest.”
He didn’t need to tell them twice. The dining hall erupted with rowdy cries. Black Horse’s disciples were thirsty for blood and Jimmy was determined to quench that desire. He grabbed two guns off of the table and slipped them into the waist band of his pants and slithered out the door like the snake that he was.
***
“I don’t want to do this…” Cheyenne said as she looked at Trent with pleading eyes.
He had removed her shirt and bound her wrists to the bedpost.
“Ssssh…” Trent said, giving her a sweet smile, “It’s going to make you feel so good, baby.”
“Please, Trent. I stopped using. Two months ago. Please…”
Her eyes were already glazed over from the whiskey she downed at the bar and her brain was in a fog from the joint they smoked in the car. Her inhibitions were dropping by the second and a sober Trent was taking full advantage. Her step father said to distract her – and Trent damn well intended to.
Trent smoothed Cheyenne’s hair over her right shoulder revealing a red rose tattoo on her left. Cheyenne closed her eyes as she pretended it was Randy who was touching her. She couldn’t deny how good he made her feel. Cheyenne hadn’t realized that she moaned in response to his gentle touch.
“See, I told you…” Trent said, moving his hand over her soft skin, massaging her exposed breasts.
Bringing his lips to her neck, he licked her smooth skin causing every nerve to stand at attention. As she continued to vocalize her pleasure, Trent bit down hard into her flesh. A single fleck of blood oozed from the wound and dripped down her neck. Trent hardened at the sight of it. He lapped up the droplet with his tongue. Reaching behind him while he continued to eye her naked body, he retrieved a tin box from behind him. Trent wrapped his leg around Cheyenne, trapping her under his limbs. He lifted the lid of the box, exposing a bag of white powder. Cheyenne watched him as he licked his index finger and dipped it into the white substance. His finger emerged completely coated with cocaine. Mounting her, Trent’s lips and tongue traced the curve of her neck. He lowered his body and sought out her ear. Softly, he whispered, “I won’t be gentle tonight.”
Before she could respond, Trent had his cocaine laced finger in her mouth, crushing the substance into her gums and tongue. He ravaged her mouth with his tongue and before she could tell him to stop
she had fallen into a thick fog of pure passion, pleasure, immeasurable pain and insanity. Just one word escaped her mouth: Randy. As he heard the name, Trent’s hand crashed against the skin of her cheek, leaving her face red and teeming.
From gritted teeth he yelled, “I will beat your obsession of him out of you. I will fuck you into submission until it is only my name you scream.”
But by then, Cheyenne was dead to the world, dipping in and out of consciousness. Trent could do what he pleased and no one would know the difference. At that moment, he decided he would.
Trent only took trace amounts of the drugs he pumped into girls like Cheyenne. Girls that could give him something in return. He gets them addicted to a drug that only he could provide, and in turn, they became addicted to him, too. Then, when they no longer gave him what he needed, he cuts them off and leaves them lost and strung out. He had done it before. He would do it again in a heart beat.
Trent stripped her bare, plying her limbs around his body. Cheyenne still wavering in and out of consciousness whispered into Trent’s ear, “He’s going to kill you, you know.”
Trent, with a devious smile on his face, said, “Not if I kill him first.”
Before she could protest further, he plunged inside her, claiming her as his possession.
Chapter Fifteen
The rumble of an oncoming procession of motorcycles broke the evening’s silence. Jimmy Hearns led the pack in his pick up, the low purr of his motor ripping through midtown and down Monument Avenue. The shops and restaurants were lit up brilliantly as couples and groups of revelers strolled to their destinations. A man walking hand in hand with his sweetheart saw the train of Devils and put a protective arm around his girl. Ducking into a restaurant, the couple hid from view while the procession of bikers passed them by.
Jimmy’s eyes smoldered as he gazed out his windshield. His eyes gleamed with expectancy, pregnant with desire, vengeance and a desperation most men never knew the likes of. A million thoughts ran through his mind at once, but only one screamed louder over the rest. Averi. He was hell bent upon getting “his” girl and he wasn’t taking no for an answer.
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