DEVIANT (Iron Kings MC, #3)

by Franca Storm

  "It won't be enough," she said, sounding so sure of the outcome, as though she'd lived through something exactly like this once before.

  "I won't let him pull me back into the dark. I won't let him ruin me. I almost made that mistake when I first laid eyes on him again, because he brings that side of me to the surface. But I can't let myself become like him just to beat him."

  "You aren't the same, nowhere close to his deplorable level. You are seeing things the wrong way, Skylar. It's a simple fact that there isn't always a choice in these situations. Sometimes, we must do the unthinkable to protect ourselves and those we hold dear."

  Urgh. She always had such sound arguments.

  And I couldn't deny that it had me hesitating.

  When I failed to respond, because my mind was going a million miles a second, just trying to finagle a way out of the situation with Walsh without putting him to ground, she spoke, "I will give you some time to mull it over. Contact me within forty-eight hours with your decision." Her eyes darkened, making me tense. "To be clear, though, you are out of favors. Saving my life already granted you your freedom from The Electi, no questions asked. It also entitles you to my friendship as this unscheduled meet tonight is testament to. No, this will be a favor for another favor. You will be in debt to The Electi."

  I swallowed hard, knowing the ramifications of holding such a debt. "I understand."

  "Good." She held out her hand to me and we shook firmly. "Keep well."

  "You too."

  With that, she turned away, and the gates behind me unlocked and started creaking open in that unnecessarily eerie way that they'd done earlier. I spun around and walked back through them, striding down the driveway, away from her property.

  I shuddered, knowing this would be the last time I'd walk away from The Electi as a free woman.

  21

  ~Deviant~

  "WHERE IS SHE?"

  Anarchy took another look at his phone. "This is where the last signal was pinged to."

  "It's obviously fucking not, brother," I shot back, getting more frustrated with every second that ticked on by. He'd tracked her cell here to the smallest town that I'd ever been to. There were seriously only a handful of residences and a one-pump gas station.

  And now Sky's car too. Not what she termed her everyday car, but one of her backups out of her impressively-sized collection. An Aston Martin One-77. Damn, the woman had some suave taste in cars.

  "Her car's here, but she's not. You couldn't have tracked her phone here, because she doesn't go anywhere without it and, as you can damn well see, she's not here. What the fuck is going on?"

  His eyes flickered rapidly, his fingers flying across his phone, as he anxiously tried to figure out what was happening. "Someone could've… rerouted the signal, blocked it," he said. "If they blocked it, it can't be from that far out. No matter how good they are, no civilian could wield that level of power and technological capability. They could only manage a couple of square miles around whatever they're protecting."

  "So, let's say Sky went on foot from here, then the signal was blocked from here on out… so we'd need to search for two-miles in every direction?"

  "Pretty much," he confirmed.

  "That won't be necessary, boys."

  We both spun around, caught off guard by the voice. We'd been so wrapped up in trying to figure out a way to find Sky that we'd lost sight of our surroundings. Jesus Christ.

  Relief flooded me when I saw it was Sky, herself, who'd spoken. She stepped out from a footpath that cut through the deep forest to our right and strode toward us.

  I didn't give her time to reach us.

  I ate up the distance between us quickly, then threw my arms around her, unable to contain the intensity of my emotion at seeing her again, at knowing she was safe and well.

  "Fuck, woman," I breathed into her hair as I held her tightly to me.

  She chuckled. "Couldn't live without me even for a couple of days, huh?"

  I held her for a moment longer, then pulled back, holding her hands between us. "What happened?"

  She cocked an eyebrow.

  "Why weren't you here with your car?" I clarified.

  She moved away and folded her arms across her chest defensively. No way. We weren't doing that. It was all cards on the table now. The stakes were too high to fuck around and for everyone to be in their own corners with their own agendas. We had to work as one.

  "Spill it," I told her, making it clear in my tone that I wouldn't accept anything less than the absolute truth.

  She blew out a breath, then revealed, "I just met with a senior member of The Electi. She blocked my cell signal. She's extra paranoid. For good reason, given the circles she runs in. I asked her for a favor."

  No wonder she'd abruptly given up the fight to stay a part of the mission and just surrendered herself to leaving. All that time, she'd had another plan up her sleeve. Damn, she was sneaky. It was as angering as it was a turn-on. Shit, I had it bad for her.

  "I wish you'd talked to me about this before doing something that extreme, because this situation is way more complicated than either of us originally knew."

  "I'm well aware."

  "You are?"

  She nodded. "Hounds of Fury MC. Patrick's connection to them, as well as Haywire's. Yeah. I got the lowdown from my contact."

  "How did you leave it?"

  "She's giving me forty-eight hours to make a decision."

  "A decision?"

  "On whether I want to stick with my original plan of having her ruin him and render him useless and ineffective to the Fury and anyone else he's got a hold over. Or, if I want to escalate it and have him put to ground."

  I started in surprise. "Wait a second, you didn't go there intending to have him murdered?"

  "No."

  "But, after what happened in the suite–"

  "I know, but you were right. I'd reacted emotionally. Patrick brought that dark part of me rushing to the surface so quickly that I couldn't get a grip on it. I'm glad you stopped me. It would've been difficult to have that on my conscience."

  Anarchy and I exchanged an uneasy and majorly uncomfortable look.

  Fuck. She'd resisted it. She hadn't let it pull her in. How could I ask her to go back to her contact and give her the go ahead to put that fucker down now?

  But I damn well had to. I knew that, logically speaking, anyway. I had to for the good of my brother and for the club. If I protected her here, I'd be turning my back on them.

  "Sky, this is a delicate situation and–"

  "Walsh needs to be put down," Anarchy cut in. He walked up to us and gave my shoulder a supportive slap, getting the shit position I was in right now.

  Sky frowned at me. "You have authorization for the kill from Spartan?"

  "Yeah."

  "Wow," she murmured, sounding distressed. "Even he doesn't see another way around it."

  Yeah, that said a hell of a lot. Spartan was an accomplished strategist. Plus, he didn't give kill authorization lightly. After all, Iron Kings had been working its ass off to live a legitimate existence for years. Sometimes, though, things just got in the way of that. It was a brutal truth of the life we led as Iron Kings members, as well as our individual checkered pasts. Although, it was messed-up that my past, which was arguably the most mundane and legitimate of everybody's, was bringing us to this now.

  Life was a fucked-up bitch sometimes.

  "Look," I said, "You have forty-eight hours to get back to her with your decision, right?"

  "Yes."

  "I'm meeting Matt tonight. He's says he's gonna tell me everything about the mess he's in. I'll get that intel, then we'll see where we're at from there."

  "Okay," she said. "Maybe he'll have something for us that we've missed, something that'll give us another way around it."

  That was major wishful thinking.

  In fact, it was desperate. That was how much she wanted to avoid being responsible for putting Walsh to ground.


  And it made me feel like shit. I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. It seemed that no matter which way I went with this, what decision I made, somebody would get screwed. Was this the kind of shit Spartan always faced? Hard choices? Impossible decisions that had devastatingly far-reaching consequences? Was that what it would be like when the buck stopped at me? Did I really want that life then?

  "Deviant?"

  I swung my head toward Anarchy at the sound of his voice. "Yeah, brother?"

  He eyed me worriedly. "We should get going now."

  "Right, yeah," I murmured, still plagued by my distressed thoughts and everything being called into question in one fell swoop.

  Sky rubbed my arm, asking softly, "Are you okay, D?"

  Hell, I had to be. So, I buried it for now, shook it off, then stepped back from her and told her, "Follow us back to the motel."

  "Wait. Motel?"

  Here we go. "I had to leave the suite. It was too risky staying there after Walsh broke in."

  "Well, there are plenty of other acceptable hotels in the city. I'll make a reservation."

  "Under your real name? No way. We need to fly under the radar from here on out, Sky. And, let's face it, no one would expect you to be staying at a dive motel. It's a good cover."

  It took her a moment, but then her shoulders slumped and she said, "Urgh. Fine. But if I see a single bedbug, or any mold and suspicious stains to speak of, I'm out of there."

  Anarchy laughed, as he strolled to his bike and got settled to ride. "Love it."

  "Fair enough," I told Sky.

  "Good."

  I grinned. "Let's head out, my love."

  22

  ~Skylar~

  SOMETHING HAD SHIFTED.

  It had been several hours since Deviant and Anarchy had tracked me down. We'd headed back to the motel and had dinner with Anarchy, before D and I had ridden all the way out to meet with Matt. And, through all of that, D had barely spoken three sentences.

  He was doing that shutting down thing again. This time, though, I knew he wasn't intentionally trying to shut me out. He needed it. There was a lot on the line, a slew of difficult choices to be made. It was killing him. It had been obvious by his reaction earlier that he didn't want me to have to put out a hit on Patrick. He was trying to protect me. From the possible repercussions. From myself. But I also knew that if he did that, he'd be forsaking his club brothers and Matt. I would never allow that.

  I'd figure out another way so he wouldn't be forced to make that kind of decision at all, because even if I claimed I was okay with it, he wouldn't be able to live with himself. Sure, I had a little less than forty-eight hours to come up with a Hail Mary plan, but I'd worked with worse deadlines over the years. I could figure something out, I knew it.

  "Sky, you ready to do this?" D asked, pulling me back to the immediate situation.

  I took in the modest-sized, brick bungalow in front of us, complete with neatly trimmed bushes and a perfectly manicured lawn. It was the only house on the block, inside the tiny little cul-de-sac. It was warm, homely, and subdued. It really didn't seem like the Matt Reilly that D had described over the years. In fact, it seemed way off the mark for him.

  "Yeah, I'm ready. Are you?" He'd been standing and scanning the area since he'd dismounted his Harley.

  "Yeah," he responded, distractedly, his mind very clearly elsewhere.

  "Good, because I'm sure with the roar of your bike, Matt heard us pull in here. The longer we stand out here scoping things out, the more awkward it's going to be when we finally knock."

  "Hey, with the way you drive, they would've heard us even if we'd taken your car."

  I smiled at his flicker of humor. It was gone in the next second, though, as he started for the front door, gesturing for me to follow him.

  He rapped on the door in that abrasive, no-nonsense way all his club members did. Was it a part of their frigging training during their prospecting period, or something?

  I shot a glance at him. His jaw was tight, his eyes intensely focused, and his muscles seemingly locked. He was incredibly on edge.

  And it really wouldn't help us right now. We needed to go into this relaxed and open. Although it was his brother we were meeting with, it was still an intel-gathering mission at heart. Bringing that kind of intensity to the table would only make Matt nervous and less willing to offer up what he knew. From what D had told me, it had already taken a lot to get him to agree to this meeting, to allow us to venture onto his turf.

  I reached out and took D's hand. As his gaze snapped to mine, I told him, "It's going to be fine. This is exactly what we need. He said he's willing to offer up more intel, so it can only help to decide on the best road to take from here."

  "Yeah," he muttered.

  At least, I felt his hand relaxing a little in mine. His jaw unclenched too and he even managed to force a smile.

  The crunch of footsteps coming from the left side of the house had the two of us jolting to attention.

  D's hand went to his holster.

  I was right there with him.

  We waited, stilling, and quieting our breathing.

  The footsteps drew closer.

  They were right upon us.

  I flipped the safety off my gun, but as I went to pull it, D's hand gripped mine, stopping me.

  A second later, I realized why.

  Matt came into view.

  Damn, D's reactions were amazing. I'd forgotten just how fast they were. I flipped the safety back on, then took a step back.

  Matt stood there grinning at us with his hands raised in mock surrender. "Jeez, you guys are intense."

  "We're prepared," I explained.

  He scoffed. "Come on, you can relax. This is a safe neighborhood."

  "There's no such thing," D said.

  Matt flinched. "Well, that was… dark."

  Yeah, it was. It was a good indication of where D's head was at, though.

  "So, why are you coming from around the back?" I asked, cutting through the intensity D was putting out there before it choked us all.

  "I just wanted to have words before we went inside."

  "Words about what?" Before Matt could get an explanation out, D went on, "If you're thinking of backing out on finally telling me everything you know with this fucked-up picture, know now that it's not gonna go down well with me." His eyes hardened. "Not one fucking bit."

  I gave D's hand a squeeze. Take it down.

  "I'm not backing out, Luke," Matt told him, earnestly.

  D studied him for a moment and obviously saw the conviction there that he'd wanted to, because he gave him a chin lift and said, "All right, let's get to it then."

  With that, we followed Matt around the side of the house via a paved pathway.

  He opened a gate and as he led us into the yard, I turned to see D shaking his head. "That padlock is shit and the fence is too weak. You need to beef up your security. I know some people."

  "Jesus, take it down a notch, will you?" I whispered to him.

  As we reached a small patio in the backyard, Matt stopped and leaned against a simple wooden patio table. "I'm doing the best I can."

  But all sympathy had clearly left D, because, instead of smoothing things over, he shot back, "If that were true, you never would've gotten into bed with the likes of Walsh." He strode up to him and demanded, "I want to know why. Why the hell would you stoop that low and involve yourself in something so goddamn dangerous? It's not the brother I know. I'm missing something here and let's be clear that I'm not leaving here until you cough up what that something is."

  "I get that loud and clear, Luke. I want you to know. I'm ready for you to know."

  "Good."

  As D made a beeline for the backdoor, Matt stepped into his path, making him pull up short. "Before any of that can happen, though, I need you to calm down."

  "Why?"

  "Because this intense, aggressive, pissed-off version of you is going to scare them."

&
nbsp; "Them?" D and I asked in unison.

  Before Matt could get another word out, the backdoor creaked open.

  A thirty-something blonde woman stood in the doorway. Her hair was pulled into a high ponytail and she was dressed in casual, yet stylish sweats in a cute shade of pastel-pink. A pair of fluffy pink slippers covered her feet.

  Her sudden presence had D stepping back. "Christina," he choked out.

  "Luke," she returned with a guarded smile.

  D looked back and forth between them. "What's going on?"

  Matt told him, "We're together. We've been together for a long time now."

  "Yeah, you were high school sweethearts. I'd say that qualifies as a long time. What's she got to do with what's going on?"

  "Everything," Matt answered way too cryptically for my liking.

  "Wait," I spoke up, before they really got into it. We needed all the cards on the table here, nothing left out. "Them. Earlier you didn't say her. You said them. Someone else is here then?"

  Matt and Christina exchanged a look. There was some clear hesitation there. But then Matt gave her a nod and Christina stepped to the side.

  She reached out and a tiny hand clasped her finger.

  A little girl came into view. She looked barely toddler age.

  She was wearing matching sweats to Christina's. Her hair was the same shade of caramel brown as the Reilly brothers. But it was her amber eyes that really made it clear to me exactly who she was without the need to have it spelled out.

  Matt walked to her and picked her up, holding her against his hip. "Luke, this is my daughter, Rosie."

  23

  ~Deviant~

  DAUGHTER.

  My little brother had a daughter.

  I had a little niece.

  Rosie.

  Such a sweet name for such a cute little girl.

  "Eighteen months?" I barked, before I could reel it in.

  Matt chugged back more of his beer as he continued pacing the backyard, where the two of us had been for the last ten minutes. Thankfully, I'd managed to think through the shock of it all well enough to greet my little niece and interact with her for a while. Christina had put her to bed a half hour ago and Sky had headed inside to hang with her, knowing that I needed some privacy with my brother.