Burn Up (Steel Veins Book 2)

by Jackson Kane

  I’d never been to Colorado before, and for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why. It was the most beautiful place I’d ever seen in person.

  Chapter Five

  Hendrix

  The Lost Wild Boys opened their gate for us, and we flooded in. I was surprised we were here as I didn’t think we had any connections in Denver and just figured we’d be crashing at a motel. Miles filled me in that Loopy was originally from this club, and since we patched him in, the two clubs had been working with each other a little more.

  The whole thing made me a little uneasy, but I assumed most of that was because of my dislike of Loopy. Honestly, I didn’t know these guys from a hole in the wall. They could be on the level, but I’d have to feel them out to know for sure.

  “We’re here. Hop off,” I told Maya.

  “But you said when we left today that—” She yawned, groggily protesting. The girl had been a trooper. That was a tough ride for anyone, let alone a passenger. “That ‘I should pray that you got off before me.’”

  “I was just fucking with you, darlin’.” I winked at her. “Hop off.”

  Her face soured as she peeled herself off the seat. I put a hand out for her to use as a counterweight as it would help when she swung her leg over to dismount, yet she spitefully didn’t accept it.

  The girl was proud. I liked that.

  “I need my bag,” she murmured as she stretched her muscles then patted down the front of her wrinkled clothes.

  I stepped down and stretched myself too. I loved riding, especially after my court-mandated hiatus, but that first dismount and stretch afterward were almost as exquisite as the ride itself. Every time I got off my bike after a long ride, it felt like a day well spent regardless of where I was heading or what I was doing.

  I opened one of the saddlebags and handed Maya her stuff. “Hey,” I complimented after she grabbed the bag but before I let it go, “you did great today. That was a hell of a first ride.” I gave her what I hoped was a small, honest smile and released my grasp.

  She examined me cautiously, clutching her property close to her as she attempted to gauge how genuine the smile and my kind words were.

  “Look,” I added so that we weren’t just awkwardly gawking at each other, “I just saw Skids go inside. He’ll take care of you.”

  “Thanks,” she replied, wearily heading toward the clubhouse.

  I could understand her confusion, but I meant it. It was a hell of a ride, and, to be honest, I wasn’t exactly on my best behavior to begin with. I was still pissed and angry at the way everything went down that dragged me into this mess, but that wasn’t her fault. Being in prison for so long might have made me even rougher around the edges than I already was. Hey, at this rate, soon I’d be foaming at the mouth and pissing on shit to mark my territory.

  From that lie she told earlier to cover up her surprise about the money she gave the club for the protection ride, I was certain she mattered to Skids in some big way. I was sure I could press either of them for details, but I trusted Skids. If he wanted me to know, he would have told me.

  I found myself watching Maya work out a cramp in her right calf muscle on her way to the front entrance. She bent at the waist, and I traced her thoroughly with my eyes before I’d realized I was even doing it. There was something about that girl... because I could watch her for hours.

  Riding for hours on end like that always put me in a familiar trance—what meditation must be like since I never felt the need to waste my time doing that kind of new-age shit. It was a feeling that didn’t exist anywhere else in my life. Anytime I needed to clear my head, I always took off for a few hours and lost my troubles in burning rubber, billowing smoke, and biting wind. When I arrived back home, I was an empty cup, ready to be filled anew.

  However, this ride with her was different. All my pent-up pain and rage were drained away like always, though underneath all that were unrelenting thoughts of Maya. Having her wrapped around me, I couldn’t get her out of my head. A few times I’d repositioned her hands, not because I was uncomfortable or because it was making it difficult to ride but because I just wanted to touch her, to feel her silky skin not marred by scarred track marks or shitty tattoos.

  Maybe prison did make me soft. Soft with rough edges, I chuckled. My hypocrisy knew no bounds. My eyes were riveted on her as Maya dropped her bag and bent over to retie a loosened shoe. Her shorts matted invitingly against her ass, and her shirt rode up just enough for the clubhouse’s harsh exterior lights to shine off the bare, golden skin of her back. The muscles in my lower stomach clenched. I squeezed my bike’s handlebar to force some of my blood from shunting preferentially to my cock. At least prison didn’t make me want to fuck any less.

  “Junk? Man, you all right?” Miles asked as he passed me on his way in.

  I watched her slowly arch her spine, exposing more skin, then glance back at me. She knew I wanted her. That I wanted her warm, wet softness wrapped around me, wrapped around my cock. I wanted it so bad I could taste her. I wanted her sweaty and screaming. I wanted to rip those clothes off her and slam her up against the clubhouse wall.

  “I’m good.” I had to think about broken bike parts and rancid trash just to clear my head enough to finish my sentence. “Just a long ride. Little rusty, I guess.”

  She turned back and disappeared inside.

  “I hear that, man.” Miles nodded and headed in as well. He was completely oblivious to my distraction, and I was thankful for that.

  I grunted, grabbing and squeezing my raging hard-on through my pants. I’d given myself an extra minute to get it under control and adjusted my cock so it was a little more manageable before heading inside the clubhouse. I had forgotten how much hugging there was when meeting new clubs. Shit, I was so glad I took the extra minute outside to relax. The last thing I wanted was some sword-fighting action.

  All the members shuffled into the meeting room, which left the main room empty except for a few mamas who were waiting around for us to be finished plus a few sketchy-looking hang arounds who were eyeing our van and whispering. Never a good sign, but something I’d have to deal with later if it was anything but innocent curiosity.

  A dark-haired Latina dragged her arm across my shoulder and eye-fucked me as I walked by. She was pretty for club property. Exotic, young, and with a smile that screamed I like it rough! I enjoyed exotic, but she didn’t hold a candle to Maya.

  Goddammit! This shit had to stop! Right. the. fuck. now. I didn’t do hang-ups or comparisons. Pussy was pussy. That was it. I just needed some easy pussy to set my head straight. I was sure the Wild Boys wouldn’t mind sharing their stock in the name of hospitality and all that. I had to put this Maya shit behind me.

  “Hey,” I grabbed Tex, stopping him from entering their meeting room. He ripped his arm away but reluctantly stayed to hear me out. “This shit. This animosity we have. It needs to stop, at least until we get this Legion run done. We both want the same thing—me gone.”

  “Agreed.” His anger at me begrudgingly subsided, but only a little.

  This whole thing would be temporary, of course. If I could tie him directly to the murder of my brothers, the ones that supported the deal with the Russians, there would be a reckoning. I’d nail him to the fucking wall. For now, that had to wait as we both needed to focus on the task at hand.

  I leaned in closer so as to minimize any eavesdropping. “How well do you know these guys? I’m picking up some weird vibes.”

  “Well enough. Loopy vouched for them. We should be all right here.”

  I raised an eyebrow at him in skepticism and cocked my head to the shady hang arounds.

  Tex followed my gesture and spotted them. “Yeah, all right. We’ll post a watch with just our guys till we leave tomorrow,” he added reluctantly.

  I nodded. The additional eyes on our van was the right call. For a change.

  “One more thing.” I stopped him again from heading in. “Maya, that Hangers’ girl. You gotta cag
e her. She’s a wreck waiting to happen. There’s no way she’ll make it on a bike another day without falling off or killing the rider. Let her ride in the van with Skids. She doesn’t know what we’re hauling. Besides, everything is locked up, right? She couldn’t get in if she wanted to.”

  Tex rolled it around in his head then dismissively agreed.

  What I said was all a lie. She was probably the best passenger I’d ever had, but the lie was for the best. This girl was a thunderstorm of distraction for me. I didn’t have a lot of faith in what the C.E. was doing right now, so that was even more reason to stay focused. I was probably headed back to jail or, more likely, an unmarked grave off a highway somewhere. This muling business was risky. With this amount of drugs on us, we wouldn’t be flying under the radar for long.

  For as much as I wanted to tear Maya’s pussy apart and devour every inch of her, I had to put some distance between us. She wasn’t tainted like I was. She wasn’t a part of our world. I knew that one taste of her would never be enough. Once I dipped into that well, that pure pussy, I wouldn’t be able to stop.

  When this run goes up in flames like I knew it would, if I was tapping that ass on the regular, then she’d be more likely to get dragged into the fire. Maya seemed like a decent chick who didn’t need that grief. I didn’t want to see this life take its toll on her like it did all the girls inside the clubhouse.

  The meeting was quick, mostly logistics and sleeping arrangements. There was a lingering uneasiness coming off the Wild Boys, but we were all at their bar before long, and by then, it didn’t seem to matter as much.

  Pyramids of liquor shots were being carted around by completely nude mamas. The bar was snowy with lines of coke as they challenged C.E. members to blow races. I had to wonder if we just stumbled into a celebration.

  With the first leg of the trip down and with a lot more to go, no one was in the mood to get annihilated. It seemed like no one told the Wild Boys that because within the hour, the place was near bursting with drugs and girls that went way beyond good house manners. Tex seemed wary of the craziness of it too, but he went along with it, albeit at a much slower pace.

  Skids had taken first watch, no doubt to talk to Maya about whatever the hell they had going on. I was glad she was out there with him as I scanned around at the ass-grabbing and the girls who were passed around like party favors. Nothing good was going to happen to her in here tonight.

  Miles was right at home. He didn’t have to worry about the burden of command, so he was already a mess. I, on the other hand, nursed a beer and observed the mayhem, turning down attempt after attempt by their members and girls at stepping up my party game. As much as I wanted to get my dick sucked, the whole thing put me off a bit.

  That’s when I spotted the hang arounds in the back, the same group of guys who were scoping out the van earlier. They were chilling on the far end of the bar with no drinks of any kind. They just watched. No one bothered them or even really acknowledged them. If this was an out-of-control high school dance, then they were the chaperones. It felt very out of place.

  I didn’t know what was up, but something didn’t feel right. I headed back out to my bike to grab my gun just in case. When I stepped out, I found two of the chaperones outside closing the main gate.

  “What’s up, brother? You all right?” one of them, dressed in a hoodie and with no cut or colors, asked me while clicking the lock in place.

  Brother. That word was awfully forward for a nonmember to be throwing around. I could see the bump of a gun in his waistband. That was another odd thing for a nonmember to have on the premises.

  “Just grabbing something out of the bike. What’s up with the gate? You expecting trouble?” I asked lightly, playing down my suspicions as I shook the closest one’s hand.

  “Nah, just a thing we do at the end of the day,” the other man spoke up. He was bald with a handlebar mustache. “Keeps our guys safe. Cops are dicks around here.”

  “Yeah, it’s cool. We’re just looking out for everyone,” Hoodie smiled disarmingly and shook my hand.

  I noticed the letters TLWB were tattooed under his knuckles, each finger getting its own letter in the acronym. The Lost Wild Boys. Only members were allowed to get club ink.

  These guys were members masquerading as hang arounds. They were sober, armed, and locking up the only way out of the compound. Right then, I knew it was on. Whatever it was, some shit was about to go down, and, with the C.E. in the shape they were in, it would be a fucking massacre.

  Hoodie saw me notice the letters and squeezed my hand, preventing me from letting go as he reached for his gun. I didn’t bother going for my knife on the opposite side of my free hand—I’d never reach it in time. I twisted, ducked low, and slammed forward, simultaneously jerking my hand behind me and throwing my shoulder into his rib cage. I rammed him into his friend, which bodily threw us into the gate.

  Hoodie let go immediately as we all hit the ground in a heap. Being on top, I was the first one up. Hoodie went for his gun, but I kicked it into him before he got it out of his pants. He screamed as the impact set the firearm off. The bullet most likely tore through his thigh and must’ve hit a major artery because blood poured out of the bottom of his pant leg and over his shoe like someone left the tap wide open. He’d be unconscious in seconds and dead in minutes.

  In any other situation, I might’ve felt bad, but fuck every one of these assholes for what they had planned for my friends.

  The bald man squirmed to get his dying friend off him. He already had his gun out, but his arm was pinned against the fence. I palmed the side of Hoodie’s face and shoved him out of the way, pulling my knife with my other hand.

  “Whoa! Whoa! Take it easy!” Handlebar Mustache tossed his gun when he realized he wouldn’t be able to get a bead on me before I gutted him.

  “You know what I’m going to ask you. Don’t fuck this up.” I slid the edge of the blade under his nose. One quick slice and that hunk of flesh and cartilage would be a vivid memory.

  “Yeah! Okay! Okay! The drugs in the van. We were going to steal them and replace the drugs with bags of sugar. Relax that thing, huh?”

  “How’d you know about the drugs?” I let my anger seep through each syllable. I angled the blade up and slowly slid it across his flesh. The sharp edge sliced the skin beneath his nostrils and began parting it from the underlying tissue, blood spurting over his lips and chin. This was going to get real messy real quick.

  I was so damn pissed because, had these fuckers succeeded in making the switch without us knowing, that would’ve been a death sentence for us when we made the drop with the Iron Legion. If I hadn’t gotten to them first, these fucks would have killed me and the rest of us, either here and now, or indirectly by way of the Legion at the drop site once they found out all we had was fucking sugar.

  “Loopy! It was Loopy! For fuck’s sake, stop! He told us when, where, and what it was. Stop!” the man screamed in a real panic. I almost didn’t hear him over the thrumming rage in my ears, and I was surprised at my restraint. In prison, I’d be finishing the conversation with the knife embedded in this asshole’s eye.

  “Gate combination,” I seethed. What little patience I had was fading fast. I’d have to get the damn thing open to get our bikes out if we had any hope of surviving tonight.

  “It was just changed! Only Saul knew it.” He looked down at his dying partner, now completely unconscious.

  “Then why the fuck am I keeping you alive?” I growled, locking eyes with the man, my face within an inch of his face.

  I could usually see it in a person when he was resolved to end my life. It was something in his face, an intensity of either of rage, expediency, a perverted excitement, or just plain self-preservation. My eyes burned holes through him as I tried to figure out which one it was for him.

  He whimpered at the intensity of my resolve he saw in my face. He knew he was dead.

  Fuck! My face soured. I had to turn away. I didn’t want to
be that guy anymore! I pulled the knife away, leaving the man’s face intact.

  I wanted out, not further back in. Hoodie killed himself when he went for his gun. That wasn’t on me. I didn’t want to rack up a body count tonight. I didn’t want any of this.

  I just wanted to fucking get laid!

  “Thank you, broth—” Mustache started before I turned the knife over and smashed the side of his head with the pommel, knocking him out.

  “You’re no brother of mine.” I spat on him, then stuffed both of their guns into the back of my pants, checking to make sure the safeties were on first. I wasn’t going to repeat Hoodie’s mistake. I grabbed my pistol from my bike and jogged around the corner where I discovered the van to be fine. The Wild Boys were probably waiting for the gate to be closed first. Skids and Maya sat inside and had the doors open for cross ventilation. I could’ve run and warned them, but they were both sober and would know when shit went sideways. The rest of the C.E. inside were fucked.

  I wasn’t ten steps back around the corner to the main door when the man at the gate was beginning to come to. No one can ever tell how long someone is going to be out, but I was desperately hoping it would be a little longer in this case. I could either leave him and rush into the clubhouse like a cowboy before he woke up enough to warn his MC brothers for backup, or I could guarantee his silence, run back to the gate, and slit his throat. That move would give me a few more minutes to plan our escape.

  I hesitated for a moment before I knowingly made the wrong, less practical decision. “Yee-haw...,” I muttered to myself sarcastically and swung open the clubhouse door like Clint Eastwood in a spaghetti western. No killing for me tonight, I’d decided, just a whole lot of maiming. For now, I was all smoke and no fire.

  Let’s see how long that lasts, I skeptically thought as I stepped into bedlam. I fired a round into the ceiling, drawing a sea of dull, startled faces toward me. “Coffin Eaters! Mount up!” My words reverberated loudly through the din of confused and soon-to-be frightened people.