Down & Dirty: Dex (Dirty Angels MC Book 8)

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Down & Dirty: Dex (Dirty Angels MC Book 8) Page 14

by Jeanne St. James


  “Says you. Ain’t callin’ the pigs.” Plus, he had some questions to ask these fuckers before he decided what was going to be done.

  Then Brooke was there, her robe gaping open and the tie gone. He made sure Sandman wasn’t moving and then glanced over at Crank. Brooke had him trussed up with her robe tie.

  Fuckin’ goddamn. If they just hadn’t been in a life-threatening situation, he’d be sporting a hard-on. This woman had balls on her bigger than most bikers.

  Brooke kicked at Sandman with her bare foot. “He’s bleeding on my carpet.”

  “Right.” He eyeballed her. “Since this one’s conscious, how ‘bout gettin’ some clothes on.”

  Brooke glanced down at herself. “Once he’s secure.”

  Dex cocked a brow at her. “Whataya got to secure him?”

  She smiled and lifted a finger. When she rushed back to her bedroom, he knew exactly what she was getting.

  And when she came back out, she had pulled on a long T-shirt and panties, but her long legs were still exposed. Jesus.

  “Really? Couldn’t fuckin’ put on sweat pants or somethin’?”

  She ignored him and within minutes had Sandman cuffed behind his back, ignoring his bitching about his wounds. She had some blue nylon rope and tied his legs up once Dex flipped him onto his belly, then they went over and secured an unconscious Crank the same way.

  “You don’t want to call the cops, but now what do we do with them? We can’t just let them walk away.”

  “Babe, ain’t just walkin’ away. Promise you that.”

  Dex moved over to the front picture window, moved the curtain aside and peered out. Two sleds. So no one else was with them.

  “You didn’t hear their bikes pull up?”

  Brooke shrugged. “I heard something but I thought it was a loud truck driving by.”

  “Gonna make a call. Might take a while to get this all cleaned up. But once I do, you’re gonna have to keep an eye on ‘em while I hide their bikes in the garage. Yeah?”

  “Who are you calling?”

  “D.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Brooke gripped the sink and dropped her head, blowing out a breath. After a moment she straightened, wiped her hand over the steamed-up mirror and took a good look at herself.

  What the fuck happened to her life?

  Her mother’s cancer sparked a chain of events that there was no going back from. The suffering her mother endured had been horrible. One Brooke wouldn’t wish on anyone. Then her death ripped Brooke’s heart out and left nothing but a black, gaping hole behind.

  What was worse, she was left to deal with her mother’s estate alone. Her brother and sister both ended up living in California after college and while they had flown in for her mother’s funeral, they both couldn’t wait to head back. Again, leaving Brooke to deal with the aftermath on her own.

  When she came across the stuff in the attic... Her life spiraled even more. Everything she thought her life was... wasn’t.

  To find out that the man who sired her had taken her mother without her consent. And her mother could have had an abortion and put the whole thing behind her as best as she could. But she didn’t.

  Instead, she had Brooke, loved her like she’d always been wanted. Cherished her like her other children. Brooke never was treated any differently.

  Even though the blood of a monster ran through her veins.

  A monster.

  Maybe that’s why as she stood in the bathroom naked, her hair dripping wet, her skin freshly scrubbed, she felt absolutely nothing when it came to shooting that Warrior.

  Nothing.

  She really had wanted to kill him and she could have.

  Luckily, common sense had stepped in. That and the fact that the Warrior held a gun to Dex’s head. She needed the outlaw biker to drop the gun, not accidentally pull the trigger and kill Dex.

  She closed her eyes as the man himself pushed open the bathroom door without even knocking.

  Figures.

  “You okay? Been in here a long time.”

  “I’m fine.”

  He pushed the door wide open allowing the damp heat to escape the room as he stepped inside. He still wore his jeans with blood stains because he had no other clothes with him. But he now had a long-sleeved thermal covering his numerous tattoos.

  “Should you be leaving them alone?”

  “Babe, you got ‘em trussed up good. They ain’t goin’ anywhere. Ain’t worried ‘bout them, worried ‘bout you.”

  He grabbed a towel off the rack and, moving behind her to wrap her in it, covered up her nakedness. Pulling her back against him, he stared into the mirror at the two of them together.

  What she saw in that mirror was proof her life would never be the same again.

  She closed her eyes for a second, then turned in his arms to look up into his dark eyes. “Dex.”

  “Yeah?”

  “The former DAMC president that Sandman mentioned... That’s Pierce, isn’t it?’

  Dex didn’t say anything for a long moment. He just let it hang between them, so in the end he didn’t have to answer.

  She knew.

  “Has he ever been in bed with that club before?”

  “Dunno, babe. Gonna see if I can get more info from them before D arrives. If not before, then D can help get some info outta ‘em.”

  “Why? Why would he want to take you out? Have me...” She let that thought drift off. Her rapist father sent bikers to rape his own daughter.

  Whether that was his intent or not, it didn’t matter. That’s what would’ve happened if she hadn’t gotten them out of that situation. Either way, Pierce sent a rival MC to deal with her and Dex.

  “Thinkin’ he found out ‘bout you somehow. The accusations and why I headed out here. Not sure. Maybe tryin’ to quiet you. Keep us from strippin’ his colors. Dunno what’s all in his fucked-up head.”

  “His blood runs through my veins.”

  Dex ignored her statement, instead saying, “Proud of you, babe. Most women woulda been wailin’, screamin’, cryin’. Not you. You kept your shit tight. Handled your business.”

  “Maybe it’s because his blood does run through me.” Maybe she was more like him than she’d like to admit. Maybe it was where her deep-seated need for control came from. She never knew why she was like that. Never knew where it came from since neither her mother or her father were like that.

  Dex shook his head. “No. If he sicced the Warriors on us, got ‘em to do his dirty work, then he ain’t nothin’ but a fuckin’ coward. An’ you’re no fuckin’ coward.”

  “But maybe he’s just cold. Maybe I am, too. I don’t feel anything.”

  Dex’s body went solid against hers. “Whataya mean?”

  “Shooting Sandman should upset me. It doesn’t. I’d do it again in a second.”

  Smiling, Dex swept her damp hair off one shoulder. He pressed his lips to the side of her neck and kissed her. “That shit’s sexy as all fuck.”

  She arched a brow at him. “Shooting a man is sexy?”

  “You didn’t see yourself. I swear you turned into some sort of chick like in the Terminator movies.”

  “Sarah Connor?”

  “Yeah, babe. That was fuckin’ hot.”

  The corners of her lips twitched. “You couldn’t pick anyone more current?”

  “Fuck no. She was badass.” He pressed a kiss on her forehead. “Like you.” He sighed. “Too bad we gotta wait for D to show up. Otherwise, I’d be showing you how much that turned me the fuck on.”

  He didn’t need to show her. She felt it pushing against her belly. “There’s something wrong with you.”

  “Yeah. Apparently, I like fucking kickass, dominant women.”

  “You just found that out?”

  “Figured that out when you walked into a pawn shop in Shadow Valley.”

  “You didn’t know what I was like then.”

  “All that mattered was that you were fingerin’ that marbl
e dick. Was a fuckin’ goner after that.”

  Brooke tried to bite back the laugh that threatened to escape but she gave up and let it out. Dex smiled down at her. “See, you ain’t cold. Passionate. You like what you like.”

  Brooke cupped his cheek, rubbing her thumb over the beard on his face that was getting thicker by the day. “I like it when you let me tie you up and do naughty things to you.”

  Dex dropped his head until his lips were just above hers. She inhaled in his warm breath between her parted lips and he did the same. “I like it, too.”

  “We got two tied up bikers in my house, one bleeding like a stuck pig and you’re hard.”

  “Yeah.”

  Yeah.

  “Think we should stop his bleeding?”

  “Fuck no. In the end, it won’t matter if he bleeds out or not.”

  “So, he’s going to die?”

  She watched his face, but he kept it a blank mask. “D’s gonna get it handled.”

  “Like the Pierce issue?”

  “Promised you that we’d get him handled, too.”

  “I have a feeling you’ll be handling him the same way.”

  “If those Warriors are tellin’ the truth about Pierce tippin’ ‘em off to where we were? Fuck yeah.”

  “Dex...”

  “Ain’t talkin’ ‘bout that now.”

  Brooke arched a brow at him. “Oh yeah?”

  He smiled. “Trust me on this.” He closed the gap and gave her a kiss. Her brain told her she should keep it short. They had two dangerous men in the house, but she let herself melt against him, encouraging him to deepen it. His tongue tangled with hers and his arms tightened around her.

  Surprisingly, she let him be in charge.

  At least for those few stolen moments in the bathroom, where the rest of the world remained outside the door.

  Brooke eyeballed the three large men who stepped inside. Suddenly, her house seemed so much smaller.

  But, holy hell, they were worth looking at.

  However, the one had a noticeable scar that ran diagonally down his face from above his temple across his nose. It stopped at the one side of his mouth, making it curl up at the corner just enough so he looked sinister.

  The other two... well... Brooke noticed Dex frowning at her as he stood next to the men who definitely outsized him muscle-wise.

  “Where’s D?” he asked the one with the scar.

  “He isn’t leaving the baby,” the man answered as he let his gaze run over Brooke. He didn’t seem interested; it was more of an assessment. Maybe to see if she was a threat to him and his men. “Sent us instead.”

  Brooke stepped forward and held out her hand to the man who appeared to be in charge. “Brooke.”

  The man didn’t hesitate and, with a firm grip, clasped her hand and shook it. “Mercy.”

  “Mercy?”

  He didn’t react to her question, instead clapping the man next to him on the shoulder. “This is Ryder.” He pointed to the man on the other side of Ryder. “That’s Brick.”

  “Interesting names,” Brooke murmured, giving Dex a look that said, See? You could’ve picked a cool name.

  Dex’s lips flattened out.

  “Where the fuckers at?” Mercy asked.

  Dex jerked his chin toward the back of the house. “Dragged their asses out there. One was bleedin’ pretty good.”

  “Yeah? From what?”

  “Got a couple holes plugged in ‘im.”

  Brooke noticed that Mercy’s answering smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Take us to them.”

  Dex led the three men through the house and into her sunroom, where she and Dex had dragged them. The two Warriors sat propped against the wall, and blood soaked the president’s shirt under his cut. They’d moved them to where she had indoor/outdoor carpeting so she could hose it down after they were taken away.

  The man named Brick moved forward, leaned over and jerked Sandman’s leather vest open enough so he could see the entry wounds.

  “Shit shootin’, Dex.”

  Brooke stepped forward. “Wasn’t him.”

  All three men froze and turned their attention to Brooke.

  “Wasn’t him?” Ryder asked.

  “No wonder,” Brick murmured, staring at her. “Next time double-tap center mass to stop the threat.”

  First of all, there wasn’t going to be “next time.” Second, she didn’t need a lesson from this guy. “I wasn’t out to kill him. I hit him where I aimed. I just wanted him to drop the gun.”

  Brick rose to his feet, scratching his head, and Brooke didn’t miss his thorough once-over of her. “Non-fatal shots to take down the target, disarm the threat. Huh.”

  The biker was still conscious but was unable to talk due to the rags they had tied around their mouths. Even though he couldn’t communicate, it still looked like the injured biker had a lot to say.

  Brooke just didn’t want to hear it.

  Brick pointed to one of Sandman’s shoulders. “You hit him there on purpose?”

  “Yes.”

  “With what?”

  “That one,” Brooke tipped her head toward Crank, “had a .38 Special.”

  “How d’you get it?”

  “I asked politely,” she said.

  Brick shook his head, his eyes holding amusement, and he turned to Dex. “Should’ve taken them out, brother. We could’ve just come in and cleaned up afterward.”

  “No.” All eyes returned to Brooke. “I didn’t want him killing them.”

  “Why?” Brick asked, surprised.

  She didn’t need to explain her reasons to these men she didn’t know. “Because I didn’t.”

  Maybe she shouldn’t have phrased it the way she did since those same eyes turned back to Dex for an explanation. His mouth opened for a second, then he shut it.

  Mercy snickered. “Fuck, dude. Got it bad if you’re lettin’ her give you orders.”

  Ryder snorted. “And listening to boot.”

  “You haven’t seen her naked,” Dex answered with a grin.

  Once again all eyes turned to Brooke. She pursed her lips as she regarded Dex. She debated if she should address what he just said. But then, she understood that even though he was a biker, he liked it when she was in charge. He probably just didn’t want that information getting out there. He was most likely trying to jam his balls back where they belonged by saying what he did.

  She wouldn’t take that away from him. She liked him just the way he was. And there was no reason to cut him down at the knees in front of three badass men to whom he needed to act just as badass in front of.

  But, funny, they all expected a response from her. Like a tongue-lashing. Instead she said nothing and simply shrugged.

  Mercy threw his head back and laughed, whacking Dex on the back, then got right back to business. “Brick and Ryder are gonna take the bikes. Make ‘em magically disappear.”

  Dex gave Brooke a slight chin lift before turning his attention to the larger man. “Right. But got a few questions for these fuckers before you take ‘em anywhere. Still need some answers. Figured it was best to wait ‘til you guys got here. Make sure they’re willin’ to answer ‘em.”

  Mercy stepped up to Sandman and kicked him in the leg. “His cut says he’s prez.”

  “Yep,” Dex answered.

  “He should know all the fuckin’ answers then.” Mercy jerked his thumb toward Crank. “That one looks useless.”

  “Grabbed my woman, grabbed her fuckin’ tits. Both of ‘em were gonna rape ‘er an’ make me watch.”

  Brooke saw Mercy’s eyes turn cold and his jaw tighten as he stared at the man who had grabbed her.

  “These Warriors got a thing about hurting and raping women, don’t they?” Ryder asked, a frown on his face as he also stared at Crank.

  “Yeah, they got a thing about treatin’ women like shit in general,” Mercy answered. “Sounds like they need a lesson ‘bout respect.”

  “Too late for that less
on,” Brick answered. He turned toward Brooke and gave her a big smile. “Wanna do me a favor and go retrieve any weapons you got off these fuckers?”

  Brooke glanced at Dex and he gave her a small nod. With a sigh, she left the men alone.

  Dex watched Brooke leave the sunroom, though he was pretty fucking sure she didn’t want to. But she was letting him be in charge for now in front of D’s crew. Thank fuck.

  While he didn’t mind her being bossy in private, doing it around other men, especially the three men in front of him was something else. And she recognized that fact.

  But then, she was pretty fucking smart.

  Mercy stepped up to Crank, grabbed a handful of his greasy hair and ripped his head up. “Think this one’s got any answers at all?”

  Crank’s wide eyes turned to Dex and a muffled sound came from behind his gag. “Doubt it. Think he’s just a tweaked out meth head. Warriors are probably havin’ a hard time fillin’ their ranks. Scrapin’ the bottom of the fuckin’ barrel.”

  “’Cause we keep weeding the fuckers out.”

  Dex nodded and pointed to Sandman, who was paying careful attention to what they were talking about and doing.

  Mercy released Crank’s hair and moved over to Sandman. “So, this one’s got all the fucking answers.”

  “He fuckin’ should,” Dex agreed. “Since he’s the so-called prez of that club of fuckwads.”

  Mercy grabbed Sandman’s gag and ripped it down.

  Sandman growled, “Fuck you,” and spat at Mercy.

  “Spittin’ ain’t polite,” Mercy said and ground the heel of his boot into one of his shoulder wounds, causing Sandman to groan. “Just a fuckin’ scratch, you fuckin’ pussy. She could’ve plugged you in the chest.” Mercy squatted down beside him and smiled. “You let a woman best you. That’s called karma, bitch.”

  The twisted smile that Mercy wore was enough to shrink any man’s balls. Dex never wanted to be on the receiving end of it.

  Mercy glanced up at Dex. “So whatta we need to ask him?”

  Dex stepped closer and looked down at the man. Sandman had to be in his fifties. If he was then he’d probably been the Warriors’ president for a while. Though, Dex didn’t recognize him. They always had a feeling that this man laid low. He gave orders and let his minions do his dirty work.

 

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