Ranger: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Cold Angels MC) (Bad Boy Bikers Club Book 4)

by Naomi West

  “Like what?”

  “Are you kidding me?” he asked. “We’ve been working with Maxwell for the last few months; we know about what’s been going on with all of his girls. And we know that you’re all in on it right along with him.”

  “What?” I asked.

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Maxwell had been in deep with these guys—that much had been obvious to figure out. But now they thought that I was working with him on … whatever he’d had going on? Along with the other girls.

  “Come on, you little fucking liar—don’t play dumb with me. I know you’ve got what we’re all looking for, and the faster you give it over, the faster we can put all this behind us.”

  I was too stunned to say anything.

  “Listen,” he said. “I’m not supposed to say this, but the bosses in the Heretics were talking about what to do with you. What you’ve got, they want so fucking badly that they’re willing to, you know, work with you a little bit.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You saw some shit, sure,” he said. “And normally that’d be a death sentence. But I heard them talking about how if you work with them on this Maxwell shit, they’ll be willing to call things square. No murder, no nothing.”

  He went on.

  “Sure, you’ll have them watching you from here to eternity to make sure that you don’t do anything stupid like get a wild hair up your ass and decide to tell the cops, but you’ll still be breathing air. You have no idea what kind of a deal that is.”

  “But … I still don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.”

  I glanced towards the bedroom, wondering what the hell was taking Ranger so long.

  “You still going to try that bullshit with me?” he asked. “Come on. What I just told you is for your ears only. And I’m telling you right now, that’s a deal that I’ve never heard them even mention offering to anyone else. Shit, maybe they’re going easy on you because you’re a girl. But it’s the best you’re going to get.”

  I stepped away from the man, needing a few seconds to myself to think all of this over.

  Maxwell had told them that I was “in on it?” What was the “it” that he was referring to? As far as I knew, the only business that Maxwell had been running was his producer business. And now, not only was I learning that he had a side operation, I was learning that it had been with the Heretics.

  And he’d told them that I knew all about it!

  It was almost too much for me to wrap my head around.

  “Come on,” said the man. “Tell me where it is, and let me go. When that prick comes back in here, tell him that I told you that the Heretics are willing to work with you. Maybe they’ll even forgive your boy for roughing me up like he did.”

  “I—”

  Before I could get out another word, I heard the heavy stomp of Ranger’s boots as he came back into the room. He was dressed now, back in the clothes he’d been wearing before we’d had our fun.

  He stepped into the kitchen and removed the biggest knife I had from my butcher block, then dragged his finger along the blade to make sure it was good and sharp. Once he gave it a nod of approval, he stepped over to the man.

  “Now,” Ranger said. “You got to see my prick. If you don’t talk, I’m gonna see yours—right before I cut your little balls off.”

  Ranger placed the tip of the blade near the man’s crotch. The bound man stiffened straight as a spear as Ranger did.

  “Now, you ready to talk?”

  16

  Ranger

  I wasn’t in the mood to play around—not one goddamn bit. It normally wasn’t my style to rough up a man who couldn’t fight back, but this was different. He’d threatened Cassie, and it was taking all the restraint I had not to carve him up like a turkey.

  Besides—it was time for answers. I had a full-fledged member of the Heretics tied up in front of me. Sure, he was a low-level prick and likely didn’t have any idea of what big plans the leaders were cooking up, but I was sure I could get some good intel from him.

  Just had to ask him nicely enough.

  I poked around with the blade until I felt the soft squishiness of his prick through his jeans. I slowly, gently pressed the blade down, poking through his denim. The Heretic let out a yelp that was more fear than pain.

  “Someone sounds really attached to his junk,” I said. “Literally. Now, I know how you Heretics like to party, and I’m guessing what I’ve got the end of this here knife poked into is the toy you’d miss the most when the whores start showing up at one of your keggers.”

  The Heretic shook in his chair, a small bead of sweat forming on his forehead and trickling down his ugly mug. Truth be told, I didn’t know if I had it in me to cut off a man’s prick and send him back off into the world—seemed like a fate crueler than death. But if him thinking that I might do it was what it took to get him to talk, then I was all for letting his imagination run wild.

  “Don’t, man!” he shouted out, fear wavering his voice. “Come on! This shit’s barbaric!”

  “Yeah?” I asked, keeping the tip of the blade in place and spinning it around. “What’s wrong with a little savagery every now and then?”

  I glanced over my shoulder to see what Cassie was doing. She had her eyes covered with her hand and was peeking through slightly spread fingers. Poor girl was seeing some shit that she’d probably never thought she would.

  “Come on, come on,” he said, shaking his head. “Don’t do this.”

  “You want to keep that little pecker attached to your body, there’s a really easy way you can guarantee that happens.”

  “What?” he shot out.

  “You tell me everything you know about why the Heretics want this girl so badly.”

  “What makes you think that there’s anything more to it than that?”

  “Because, asshole,” I said. “This isn’t exactly the biggest apartment in the world. I heard every fucking word you said to her.”

  The man said nothing, and I could tell that he realized that he’d been got.

  “I know there was some shit going on with Maxwell, and I want to know all about it.”

  Before I could say anything else, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I took it out and saw that it was a text from Dakota. He wanted a check-in.

  “Shit,” I hissed under my breath.

  I knew that Dakota wouldn’t be happy with what I was in the process of doing with one of the Heretics. Things had been tense enough between our two groups already.

  “Come on,” I said, grabbing Cassie by the wrist and leading her into the bedroom.

  “What is it?” she asked. “You’re not really going to cut off his dick, are you?”

  “I don’t want you talking to that asshole,” I said. “And I need to make a call.”

  I shut the door, pulled up Dakota’s number, and gave him a call.

  “Yo,” he said on the other end. “What’s up?”

  “Got a little situation,” I said.

  “Ah hell,” said Dakota. “What is it this time?”

  I filled him in on all the details.

  “Fucking hell, Ranger,” said Dakota. “You sure as hell know how to step right in the middle of it, don’t you? I don’t suppose it’d do a damn bit of good to remind you of how shaky shit is with us and the Heretics, huh?”

  “I know, I know,” I said.

  “And you were just going to, what, take it upon yourself to carve this fucker up?”

  “Hadn’t planned on going that far, boss,” I said.

  “Good,” he said. “At least you’ve got that much damn sense in that head of yours.”

  “But you know everything now,” I said. “And this is going way beyond this girl witnessing a murder. There’s some shit here that might affect us, too.”

  There was a silence on the other end.

  “Yeah, you’re right about that,” said Dakota. “I don’t like making things worse with the Heretics, but I also don’t like the
idea of them getting the drop on us like this. If they’re planning on something, I want to know about it.”

  “Then you’re fine with my little interrogation?”

  “Something like that,” he said. “Do what you got to do to wring the information out of this prick. But don’t go too far—don’t leave anything that’ll leave too much of a mark. And try and keep all of his fingers and toes attached to him.”

  I grinned. Dakota didn’t need to know that it wasn’t his fingers and toes that I’d been threatening to remove.

  “And for fuck’s sake, don’t kill him. One of my high-ups taking it upon himself to fucking kill a Heretic might be the match that’ll light this whole powder keg up. Need you to be smart about this, Ranger. Keep a cool head.”

  “You got it, boss,” I said.

  “Good—I know you do. Take care of business, and let me know as soon as you’ve got anything good out of him.”

  I gave my affirmative, and soon, the call was over. I slipped my phone back into my pocket and, knife in hand, I strolled back into the living room, Cassie following close behind.

  “Bad news for you, buddy,” I said, tossing the knife up into the air and catching it by the handle. “Just got off the phone with my president. He said that I’m authorized to do whatever I need to in order to get your ass talking.”

  I stepped over to him and placed the tip of the knife back onto his prick.

  “And I mean, ‘whatever’.”

  He couldn’t take it anymore. He let out a sputter of fear and squirmed in his seat.

  “No!” he shouted out. “Don’t do it!”

  “You going to talk, then?” I asked.

  “I’ll talk,” he said. “Just don’t cut my cock off!”

  I held the knife there for another few moments before taking it away.

  “Good boy,” I said, tucking the knife into my belt. “Now get to talking.”

  The Heretic took in a few deep breaths before going right into it.

  “It’s Maxwell,” he said. “Maxwell and that girl. And the other girls.”

  Cassie, now standing at my side, opened her mouth to object. I held up my hand to make it clear I didn’t want her input.

  “Maxwell and the girls,” I said. “Now, in the event I can’t get any information from any of the girls, why don’t you go ahead and fill me in on what’s going on with them?”

  “He was in deep,” said the Heretic. “Owed us a shitload of money.”

  “And why did he owe you a shitload of money? Details, motherfucker.”

  “Because he had that fucking producer job of his. He had a bunch of girls he got from YouTube or some shit, girls he wanted to make into the next big thing. I guess he figured that if he wanted to make it big, his best bet was to find a bunch of these girls and pump them up.”

  He went on.

  “Publicity costs money, and Maxwell learned pretty fucking quickly that if he wanted to make these girls huge, then he was going to need some heavy cash injects to buy it. But he wasn’t exactly the most successful fucker, so he burned through that money pretty damn quick.”

  “You just gave him money?” I asked. “Out of the kindness of your fucking hearts?”

  “Of course not,” he said. “We had him do some drug moving for us, even a little dealing every now and then. He actually turned out to be pretty good at it. But at the end of the day, he was still burning through money faster than he could bring it in, and getting more and more into debt with us by the day.”

  Getting in debt with an MC like the Heretics—that was some shit that rarely had a happy ending.

  “Then what happened?”

  “Had a … stroke of luck, if you want to call it that. One of his girls ended up taking little ‘samples’ of his stash and got herself hooked. Well, she was just some broke wannabe singer, so she ended up with a habit that she couldn’t afford. She found out that Maxwell was working with us, and offered some, ah, services to keep her in what she needed. And I’m not talking about singing us songs.”

  “I get it,” I said. “Keep talking.”

  “We had our fun with this chick, and eventually started checking out the other girls he was working with. They were all cute as shit—girl-next-door types wanting to get their big breaks. And we all wanted a piece of them. So, we got to talking with Maxwell, and some of the boys came up with an idea.”

  He went on.

  “Maxwell could write off some of the debt he had with us if he set up another little ‘side business.’ This one would be a ‘fuck a YouTube star’ kind of thing. He’d get the girls hooked on our shit, then the girls would earn their drugs by fucking whoever we wanted. We’d charge big fucking money for that. That way, we’d end up actually making a profit off Maxwell’s business.”

  I glanced back at Cassie and saw that she was watching the whole thing in total disbelief.

  “You miserable fuckers,” I said.

  “Hey, this came down from the top—not like I came up with the idea.”

  “Doesn’t make you any less of a piece of shit,” I said.

  “Whatever,” he said. “You wanted to know what we were doing, and now you’ve got your answer. Now you gotta let me go, just like your boss said.”

  “Nah,” I said. “He just told me that I couldn’t cut your prick off. Didn’t say anything about letting you go without a scratch.”

  I set down the knife, pulled my fist back, and drove it hard into his face. A wet-sounding smack cut through the air. I landed two more punches right in his gut, knocking the wind out of him.

  “You … you fuck!” the Heretic shouted once he’d caught his breath.

  “Save it,” I said.

  I glanced towards Cassie and then pointed to the bedroom We went back in there and I gave Dakota another call, filling him in on the details.

  “Keep him there,” Dakota said. “I’m gonna send over a couple of boys to pick him up. We’re gonna squeeze whatever information we can out of him before we send him back to the Heretics.”

  “Got it.”

  I tucked the phone back into my pocket and went back to the other room.

  “Good news and bad news,” I said to the Heretic. “Which you want first?”

  “Fuck you,” he spat out.

  “I’ll take that as the good news,” I said. “See, most people always want the bad news first to get it out of the way. Me, I like the good news first—helps the bad news go down smooth, I think.”

  I squatted down in front of the Heretic, his red and raw face only a foot or so from mine.

  “Good news is you’re going to be going back to your buddies. Bad news is a few pals of mine are going to be the ones to take you there. And they’re going to make a little pit stop to make sure that you weren’t blowing smoke up my ass this whole time. Got it?”

  “Fuck you,” he said again.

  “You’re going to need to expand that vocabulary of yours,” I said. “But for now, sit tight.”

  I patted him on the cheek and stood up. I got a call at that moment, and it was one the Angels. I told him that we’d take the Heretic down the back and meet them there.

  Once I’d bound up the Heretic’s mouth so he couldn’t make any noise, I cut him loose from the chair. Thankfully, the beating had taken all the fight out of him so I didn’t need to worry about him making an escape. The Angels were waiting for me in the back alley, and I helped them get the Heretic into the back of the car they’d driven over. Soon he was loaded up and they were gone.

  Back in the apartment, Cassie was seated on the couch and looking all kinds of dazed. When I stepped in, she flicked those gorgeous eyes up to me and spoke.

  “Well,” she said. “What now?”

  17

  Cassie

  “What’s on your mind, kiddo?” asked Ranger, taking a seat on the couch next to me.

  “I can’t believe this,” I said. “I trusted him.”

  Ranger raised his dark, thick eyebrows.

  “Really?”
he asked. “Because, no offense, just the look I got at the guy made me think he was the sort of dude you don’t trust as far as you can throw.”

  “I mean, I knew he was kind of a hustler,” I said. “I figured he was the kind of guy to run his mouth, to make promises that he might have a hard time keeping. But I didn’t think he was the kind of guy to … run a fucking sex slavery operation with drug-addicted girls!”

  Ranger let out a dry laugh.

  “Fair enough,” he said. “Did Maxwell ever try to get you hooked on anything?”

  I scanned my memories and tried to come up with an answer.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I don’t do drugs—I saw too many kids back in the system get hooked on one thing or another and ruin their lives before they even began. I drink every now and then, but that’s it.”

  Then a thought occurred to me.

  “Wait,” I said. “He was always trying to get me to smoke pot with him. He started laying off when I told him enough times that I wasn’t interested. But I always thought that was some dumb way he was trying to help me get over stage fright.”

  “Hmm,” said Ranger. “You’re not exactly going to make a doped-up sex slave out of a pothead, but it probably meant he was trying to feel you out. He probably saw that you had your boundaries, and if he could get you to let them down for pot, he could get you to do … other shit.”

  I shook my head in total disgust.

  “What a fucking slimeball,” I said. “I mean, I’m not glad he’s dead, but—”

  “I am,” said Ranger, not hesitating even for a second. “I don’t mind sleazy producers—the world’s full of them. But a man who’s going out of his fucking way to take innocent girls and ruin them? That’s someone who’s trying to put pure evil out there. The world’s a better place with him gone, and you know it.”

  I didn’t know what to say. Part of me agreed with him, but I wasn’t ready to say that I was glad a man was dead.

  “Maybe he would’ve gotten to you eventually,” said Ranger. “You might’ve had a moment of weakness one night, and he would’ve pounced. Then you’d have ended up like those other girls, some poor piece of meat, too doped up to realize that she was nothing more than an expensive fuck toy for the worst scum this city has to offer.”