Maverick: A Dark MC Romance (A Dark & Dirty Sinners' MC Series Book 6)

by Serena Akeroyd

  “I expected to leave this room in a body bag, gentlemen—”

  O’Donnelly snorted. “Oh, ye of little faith, Rex. Why would we willingly dispose of an ally?”

  “Because it was worth it to dispose of an enemy?”

  O’Donnelly Jr., for all that his pasty face was beaded with perspiration like he was coming down off a high, snorted. “You killed two potential leaders. There are five families, don’t forget. Just because the three at the top of the triangle are missing heads doesn’t mean there won’t be potential Dons coming out of the woodwork.”

  I’d known that, but it still pissed me off.

  O’Donnelly Sr. murmured, “Yes, son, that pisses me off as much as it does you. Nothing we can do about that. Cockroaches, the lot of them.” He spared Zhao a glance. “Now that the devious cunts are dead, it’s time to discuss the real reason I called this summit into being.” His mouth tightened. “The New World Sparrows.”

  Zhao frowned, his confusion clear. As was Vasov’s. “What are these New World Sparrows?” he asked, even as his security man leaned down and muttered something in his ear.

  “They’re a bunch of dirty cops,” O’Donnelly Jr. rasped.

  “No, it goes deeper than that,” I intercepted as I moved into the newly vacated seat at the table. My phone buzzed as a reminder of what was going down in the outside world, and though this wasn’t ideal, I still had a pulse so I’d sit in if I could and maybe effect the kind of changes required to take this scum out.

  Quickly retrieving my cell, I saw Nyx was threatening to storm the building and shot him off a text telling him I was okay and that I had business to discuss. Once that was done, and because I was genuinely interested now that O’Donnelly had raised the topic of the fuckers who’d helped ruin my family’s life, I gave the meeting my full attention.

  “It has to. There has to be judges and court officials involved as well, even prison guards… Everyone taught to look the other way for certain specific cases.”

  “He’s right,” Finn O’Grady confirmed, folding his arms across his chest. “It’s only logical.”

  “Who are these New World Sparrows?” Zhao asked, but something about the tone of his voice made me wonder if this wasn’t the first time he’d come across the term.

  “We’ve managed to ascertain that their MO is to haul someone in, someone with a sketchy background. They proceed to threaten them with a fabricated case where they’re the guilty party even if they’re innocent. The person in question then has two options—do as the officers say and be released, or refuse and serve time for a crime they didn’t commit.”

  “To what end?” Zhao queried, making me scoff.

  “I highly doubt that a Dragon Head as skilled as yourself can’t figure it out. Weren’t you the one who masterminded the Relain Bank Robbery back in 2019?”

  A gleam appeared in the Triads leader’s eye. “They have an army of soldiers willing to act to stay out of jail.”

  “Exactly,” O’Donnelly Sr. obliged. “This is a problem, as I’m sure you can imagine. Especially when they create close ties with our mutual enemies.”

  Zhao’s gaze flickered over to the corpses. “They were in bed with the Italians?”

  “More than in bed,” I rumbled. “I have a feeling they were outright fucking.”

  The other leader hummed under his breath. “And what do you propose we do about this?”

  “Well,” O’Donnelly Sr. stated, “that’s why I called us here today. To discuss the NWS and how we’re going to eradicate them.”

  Vasov arched a brow. “There’s a way when they’re entangled with law enforcement?”

  I ground my teeth together. “There has to be a way—”

  Vasov scoffed. “I have no idea who you are, neither do I understand why you’re sitting at this table with us, but clearly the Westies believe you bring something to the discussion. I, however, can see you’re personally involved in this and that’s bad for business.”

  “Whether it was the Italians or the NWS, my club was targeted. My father’s in a fucking coma, shredded into pieces because of those scumbags. I want justice, and I want it now. I have to figure that justice is something a man like you understands, Vasov. Or aren’t you pissed about your kneecaps?” I asked, eying his wheelchair.

  The Pakhan grunted under his breath, but he seemed to concede the point. At least, he did after he scowled at me like we were in the middle of a pissing contest.

  The fucker was a fool if he didn’t realize that I’d win that competition hands down against him.

  When he conceded that too, and we eventually got down to business, I’d admit the entire meeting came as a surprise. And when, two hours later, O’Grady pulled me aside, I was even more astonished. With barely a chance to catch my breath, we shifted from business to personal, and where my mother was concerned, there was nothing more personal.

  “Declan wanted me to give this to you,” the Irish’s money man informed me.

  I frowned down at the folded piece of paper he held in his hands. “What is it?”

  “A drawing.” His jaw worked for a second. “As part of his therapy, they’re trying to make their son describe the nightmares he’s currently enduring. This is a cleaned up version of the woman he sees being hurt. They’re trying to—” He sighed. “Well, I don’t know what they’re doing, but I guess they want him to see her whole rather than as the victim he remembers.”

  “Jesus,” I rasped.

  “He was only a kid. It’s going to fuck with his head for life.” He cleared his throat. “It’s cleaned up,” he repeated. “But Declan told me to tell you that his wife’s a world class artist, and that if you’d like a painting, she’ll do one for you as a gift.”

  My nostrils flared at the prospect, and I reached for it, muttering, “Thanks,” as my fingertips took note of the paper’s texture. My throat felt thick as I moved to open it, to reveal my mother’s face as a child remembered her.

  Moments before her death.

  Half expecting a grisly sight, to see my mother’s features beaten and bloodied despite O’Grady’s reassurances, I unfolded the paper with shaking hands.

  But when I looked into the rich blue eyes on the drawing, the velvet-like golden hair, and the delicate chin, anger unfurled inside me.

  Because this wasn’t Rene—this wasn’t my mom.

  This was a face I hadn’t seen in four years. A name I hadn’t whispered in that long because it always hurt Storm to talk about his AWOL baby sister.

  “This is the woman who was killed?” I demanded, leaning into O’Grady’s personal space, willing him to tell me the whole truth and nothing but.

  Scarlet had been like a sister to me too. To all the council. She’d been a massive pain in the ass, and had been incapable of keeping her legs together, but shit—she was like her brother. Just with tits.

  We’d been raised together. I’d given her her first kiss by accident when she was thirteen and I was fifteen. Nyx had popped his fucking cherry with her.

  Christ.

  Scarlet.

  It was only then that I realized timelines had never been mentioned. I’d always just taken it as read that it was my mom’s passing, which meant so much in the scheme of things. After all, without her, Bear had almost gone off the fucking rails. We’d nearly gotten into a war with the Lone Riders over in Philly because of her death.

  “Yeah,” O’Grady confirmed. “That’s who Seamus saw being hurt. Apparently, four years ago, he and his mom were living in West Orange, working on a house for a client. That’s where he saw the woman being murdered.” He paused. “Declan seemed to think it was your mother—”

  “It isn’t,” I said woodenly, peering down into the face of an angel with the mind of a demon. God, she’d been so much fucking fun.

  “Who is she?”

  “A woman who was like a sister to me.” Which was why our kiss had ended with me backing off, even if she’d tried to give me a hand job to keep me by her side. Even
at thirteen, she’d been a little nightmare.

  “Christ, I’m sorry, Rex,” O’Grady muttered, scraping a hand over his head. “I never imagined—”

  “Why would you?” I folded the piece of paper back together and asked, “If the offer’s still open, I’d appreciate the painting.”

  “Of course. I’ll tell Aela.”

  I dipped my chin. “Thanks.” Mouth tight, I rasped, “Can you do me another favor?”

  O’Grady’s wariness surged. “Depends?”

  “I have a man in Rikers. I need to get him out. Whatever you need, I’ll get you by way of payment.”

  “He’s important?”

  I shrugged. “Wouldn’t ask for help if he wasn’t. He’s young, and he’s a councilor’s brother. With him in prison after what just happened, there’s no way they’re not going to try to use him as retaliation.” I pursed my lips as I thought back to that convo with Nyx after he’d visited Quin, and the subsequent discussions with Rachel on the matter. “Brother or not, I have it on good authority that he’s innocent of the crime he was imprisoned for.”

  O’Grady’s gaze sharpened with interest. “The New World Sparrows?”

  Dipping my chin, I told him, “I believe so, and I have a name… Lacey. Craig Lacey. He’s with the 42nd Precinct.”

  “Those fuckers—”

  “Exactly,” I said with a grimace, because they were notoriously corrupt in that precinct. “He arrested Quin, got him hauled in on carjacking charges, then the judge went and threw the book at him even though he’s a first offender. Eighteen and serving time with goddamn serial killers and pedos. I’ll admit to thinking the judge was just racist because Quin’s a Native American. But now?” I shook my head.

  “You think otherwise. Of course.” He reached for his cell and murmured, “Craig Lacey is a start.”

  “I was thinking the same thing.”

  “Why not investigate this yourself?” he queried, his tone puzzled.

  “Because I’m not exactly equipped for much of anything right now. The club isn’t weakened, but we’re definitely reeling. According to Declan, we’re allies. If I can’t trust you with this, then who can I trust?”

  Then, with the drawing burning a hole in my cut and without waiting on another word from him, I retreated to the door where I knew a bunch of my brothers would be waiting, on the knife’s edge, in concern for me.

  One of whom didn’t realize the sister we’d thought had run off years ago had, in fact, been slain under our noses by the Italians.

  Those fuckers were going to pay, but how many more would we lose along the way?

  That was my biggest fear, and something I couldn’t even voice out loud. I had too many people relying on me. Too many people depending on me for answers I didn’t have.

  I’d walked in here today expecting to die, not plead Quin’s case to men who had the ear of the governor… yet here I was, walking out again and of my own volition.

  Maybe Satan really did watch over his Sinners.

  Twenty-Eight

  Maverick

  Though my head ached like a bastard, I sat up and clambered to my feet. I rolled with a motion I was free to express now that it seemed like people knew I was able once more. I’d forgotten at first, to the point where I was sure my legs didn’t work again, but they did.

  My lies, my fears, were coming back to haunt me in a big way.

  Hobbling over to Lodestar’s chair, I placed one hand beside her on the table, then looming above her, demanded, “What’s happened while I’ve been out?”

  She cast me a derisive look that sheltered a world of hurt. I’d done something to slight her.

  Christ.

  She was one of the biggest babies I knew.

  “A lot’s happened,” she muttered, “but not enough. I’ve been down too. Incapable of working at full capacity.”

  I reached up and rubbed my forehead. “Any news on the sniper?”

  “The other day, Alessa asked me for the exact location of the nest I saw in Sinner territory—I gather you picked up something worthy of DNA testing, because you contacted Ken. We should be hearing from him any day now.”

  My mouth twisted. “You and your goddamn cloned phones.”

  “Like you haven’t cloned mine.”

  I had to snicker. “Sure I have. Not that you call or text anyone on it. Boring fucker.”

  “Takes one to know one.”

  I grunted. “Not that I have a clone of your phone anymore. Crap, I guess I need to buy new gear as well.” The thought was depressing. I’d spent a long time building my gear to my exact spec. Losing the computers was like losing family.

  “I duplicated my order for you. You have everything I have.”

  Touched, I nonetheless jibed, “That’s love.”

  Her grimace said it all, but when she peered into my eyes, clearly seeking something out, whatever she did or didn’t find had her releasing a shaky breath. “It’s nice for you to look at me like you don’t hate me.”

  “I stopped hating you a long time ago,” I said with surprise.

  “Well, unfortunately for me, your head decided to go back to that year after we split up.”

  My nose crinkled. “Oh.”

  “Yeah. Oh.”

  Her dry retort had me nudging the side of her hand with my pinkie finger. “You’re the one who was a bitch when we broke up.”

  “You’d never have let me go otherwise,” she said sadly.

  “Finding you in bed with your lieutenant wasn’t the way to go.” Goddamn Baldrick. I’d hated that fucker’s guts before, so after I’d found them together in our fucking bed, it hadn’t predisposed me to like him in the aftermath.

  “You and I both know how possessive you are. You loved me. Nothing else would have broken us apart.”

  “I still do,” I said with ease. “Love you, I mean.”

  “I know. I love you too.” She shrugged. “But I know you’re in love with Alessa. We’re like siblings now.”

  Because I agreed, I just tapped her shoulder. “You need to let me in, Star. You need to stop keeping me out of the loop.”

  “Like you’re one to judge,” she retorted, her gaze drifting back to the computer screen. “You’re the one standing here like you didn’t live in a wheelchair by choice for four years.”

  “Yeah, I never said I wasn’t a hypocrite.”

  She clucked her tongue. “If you think you’re not going to tell me why you decided to hide—” Star grabbed my hand. “Are you in danger? Is that it? Do you need me to help you?”

  A sigh escaped me. “I wish it was something as brave as that, Star, but it wasn’t. I wasn’t in danger. I was just scared, I guess. Scared to live again.”

  “You were hiding out in the chair?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “You had to have been training in secret.”

  “I was.”

  “Why? Why keep it from the brothers?”

  “Because they’d have made me do shit.” I shrugged. “They’d have wanted me to live again, and I wasn’t ready for that. In all honesty, I don’t even know if I’m ready for that now.”

  “You love her,” she told me, and I heard the fervency in her voice. “You’ve been pushing her away since you got out of the hospital. Honestly, Mav, if you’d treated me like you’d treated her, I’d have fucked off on day two.”

  “That’s because you’re not as kind as she is.”

  “There’s kind and there’s being eligible for fucking sainthood,” she grumbled. “You have a lot to make up for.”

  “I know.”

  “If you could walk, why the fuck did you go into the clubhouse in that goddamn wheelchair?”

  I sighed. “Habit, I guess. Stupidity? It was a crutch. Just because I could walk didn’t mean I ever did. That’s why I feel as shaky as a newborn lamb now.”

  “You’ve been walking around since the hospital,” she pointed out.

  “My brain says otherwise.” Grimacing, I stopped loom
ing over her and reached up to rub my forehead. “I have a motherfucker of a migraine.”

  “That’s going nowhere,” she muttered, her tone borderline sympathetic. As sympathetic as she got anyway. “You’ve got CTE, Mav. It’s only going to get worse.”

  “Christ. Isn’t that what Aaron Hernandez had?”

  “Yeah. They said that’s why he killed his wife, didn’t they?” She hummed under her breath. “Fucking sucks.”

  My brow puckered. “Is Alessa in danger?”

  She snorted. “Of course. She’s married to a Satan’s Sinner. But I figure she’s been around worse cunts than you lot. She can deal with this. Plus, I heard she’s pretty wicked with a baseball bat.”

  “A bat?” I winced. “Should I be scared?”

  “Probably. Maybe you being out of it has been what she needed to grow a set of balls. You’d have gotten bored of her always jumping when you asked her to. Now, at least, she’s got a bit of fire.” Her nose crinkled. “You brought that on yourself though. I’d remember that when she surprises you with something.”

  “How would she surprise me?”

  A smile danced on her lips, a smile that had unease filtering through me. “I’m sure you’ll find out.” Her head tipped to the side. “I’d move away if I were you. She’s uncertain about you as it stands. Let’s not add to it, huh?”

  “She knows you mean a lot to me, Star,” I countered.

  “Yeah, she does, but she’s just spent a long ass time being treated like Satan himself by you. Since you got out of the hospital, you’ve been fixated on Nic again. I figure you can soothe her ruffled feathers for a while.” She shoved me away, and I complied, even though I dragged out the seat beside her so I could stare at her laptop screen.

  The backlight hurt my eyes, made little flashes of strobing light dance around the periphery of my vision, but I squinted at the screen, trying to make out what she was doing.

  “You need to bring me up to speed,” I rasped at her. “I don’t have time to lay low. The club needs me.”

  “I won’t mother you, but let me state for the record that I think you’re an idiot if you push it. Who the hell knows if you might drift back to that time again? You’ve got brain damage, Maverick. You have to take it easy.”