Outcast (Southern Rebels MC Book 2)

by Kristin Coley

  “Shhh,” she hissed in my ear as I pressed her further into the wall. “You sound like a herd of elephants crossing the Serengeti.”

  I bit back an instinctive retort as the guy I’d heard spoke nervously. “You hear that?”

  “Probably a rat,” another voice dismissed scornfully. “You got the money?”

  “You sure about this? I heard the Rebels don’t allow drugs in their town,” the nervous one spoke again and I nodded my head automatically in agreement with his words. Tori caught the motion and rolled her eyes. Eyes that were so close to my own, I could pick out shades of green and gold in them.

  “You don’t need to worry about the Rebels,” the other guy said, the cocky one I was going to assume was the dealer. “They don’t care as long as they get their cut.”

  I jerked back at his implication, almost losing my balance, but she grabbed my jacket at the last second, proving she was stronger than her slim build implied as she kept me on my feet.

  We couldn’t disguise the noise we’d made though as the dealer coughed nervously, calling out, his voice full of bravado, “Who’s there?”

  “Man, fuck this shit. I ain’t getting made by no cop,” the nervous one muttered, bolting down the alley, thankfully in the opposite direction of where we were hiding.

  I opened my mouth to say something, ready to shake the dealer down for answers, when Tori put her mouth next to mine, our lips almost brushing as she whispered, “Don’t.” Her eyes gleamed with warning, silencing me, as a phone started to ring.

  “Yeah?” We heard the guy answer. “No, the dude got spooked.” He laughed. “Heard a rat and almost wet himself as he ran.” Silence followed. “He’s in too deep. He’ll be back.” Another pause. “No sign of Xena.” Her gaze shifted sideways when I arched an eyebrow. “Once we get an in at the school, we’re golden.” Her gaze jumped back to mine as I made a rumbling noise at that bit of news. “Yeah, yeah, I hear ya.” We heard his footsteps and I pressed closer to her, flattening us against the brick wall. I released the breath I’d been holding when his footsteps faded away.

  “Good job, solider boy,” she mocked, pushing me back. “You just ruined my chance to follow that douchebag back to the lab where they make that crap.”

  “What? Mad you missed the all you can inject buffet?” I snapped, stumbling as she pushed me again. I managed to stay on my feet as she watched me warily.

  “I don’t use.”

  “Right,” I nodded. “Once an addict, always an addict,” I retorted grimly and she pressed her lips together as her gaze flicked to the ground. Something twinged inside of my chest, a dormant echo of shame, but it quickly disappeared with her next words.

  “You’re right.” Her mouth curled but there was nothing happy in the smile. “Never trust an addict.” She brushed by me, her shoulder intentionally knocking against my chest, setting me off balance, and I wobbled, cursing as I caught myself. “You followed me,” she stated, walking back the way we’d come.

  “No,” I denied with a mocking grin. “I come this way often. Good place to meet chicks.” Her lips twitched in an almost smile as I matched her stride, surprised to find it was equal to my own.

  My leg cramped painfully and I reached out, grabbing the first thing I could to keep from falling. Her arm locked, taking my weight until the cramp eased. She glanced at my leg, shaking her head, as I let go. “Why don’t you have one of those sticks?” She asked, and I cast her a confused glance. “You know, a stick that helps you walk?” She demonstrated, hunching over the imaginary ‘stick’ and taking a few steps.

  “A cane,” I responded flatly. “Do I look like a fucking eighty year old man?”

  She eyed me. “I’m gonna go out on a limb here and guess you don’t want me to answer that truthfully.”

  My jaw locked and she backed up a step. “Why were you here?” I questioned, my voice sharp. “You knew they were meeting here.”

  “If you’re going to answer your own questions, I don’t really need to be here,” she replied with a tight smile, her steps taking her further away. I reached out, intending to grab her, but she skittered out of my grasp. The corners of her eyes crinkled. “Outrunning you shouldn’t be an issue,” she mocked, dancing further away. “It’s been fun, if borderline stalking, but I’ve got work to do.”

  “Street corner calling your name?” She hesitated, her tongue darting out as I added, “Got to pay for that drug habit somehow.”

  She smiled grimly. “While I’m tempted to kick that leg out from under you, I’ve got to figure out how to keep those drugs out of the schools and why the Rebels sold out Friendly.”

  My expression froze at the reminder of what we’d heard. “The Rebels aren’t taking a cut,” I said repressively, my gut telling me there was more going on than we knew.

  “Nothing happens in Friendly without the Rebels’ knowledge,” she informed me. “I’ve been trying to figure out how the drugs were getting in,” she muttered under her breath. “This would explain it.”

  “They aren’t moving drugs,” I gritted out, limping closer. “The Rebels don’t tolerate drugs.”

  She gave me a pitying look. “I don’t know how long you’ve been gone, but they might not be who you think they are.”

  I shook my head. “No, some things don’t change.” I intentionally swept my gaze over her as I added, “People don’t change.” A twitch of her eyelid was the only outward sign my remark had hit its target as I said brusquely, “The club president’s daughter died of an overdose. He would never take a cut.”

  “You keep telling yourself that. I’m going to find out the truth, even if it means going up against the Rebels,” she said doggedly.

  My hand snaked out, latching onto her before she could react, and I dragged her closer. “Do not pit yourself against the Rebels,” I advised and her expression grew mutinous. “They won’t appreciate you poking your nose into their business.”

  “If they’re allowing drugs into this town, their business just became my business,” she responded hotly, lifting her chin as I yanked her forward, our noses almost bumping.

  “What you’re doing is dangerous and it will get you killed,” I warned her, feeling an unexpected kick in my chest at the thought.

  Her breath whispered against my cheek as she smirked. “I didn’t know you cared.”

  “I don’t,” I gritted out, still gripping her arm.

  “Then if that was a threat, you’re going to have to do better,” she replied as cold steel came to rest on my crotch. “Now, I suggest you let go before I’m forced to do something irreversible.” The crowbar tapped my ball sack lightly and I released her, not moving as she edged back, the crowbar lingering until the last second. “Good boy.”

  “This isn’t over,” I called as she disappeared around the corner and my head dropped back. “Fuck.”

  ***

  “Creed,” I barked, slamming the front door open impatiently. “Where the hell are you?” I’d called him on the way home, but he’d never bothered to answer and I was starting to wonder if he’d changed his number.

  “Cord,” someone said excitedly, and I barely had time to brace myself before they flung themselves at me. “You’re here.”

  I rocked back at the force of the hug, my arms coming up as I recognized who it must be. “Crew,” I couldn’t help the question in my voice, the tall guy trying to crush me bore no resemblance to the ten year old I’d last seen.

  “I can’t believe you’re finally here,” he said, his voice choked and I squeezed his neck reassuringly. “I missed you.”

  “I missed you too, squirt,” I replied, realizing it was true. I had missed the boy who’d been my constant shadow after our dad died. “You’re not so little anymore.”

  He chuckled damply. “I’m not a scrawny runt anymore.”

  “Nope,” I answered as he eased his strangle hold on my neck. “I almost didn’t recognize you.” He stepped back and I got my first good look at him. “Damn, you really do l
ook like Dad.”

  He smiled ruefully, tousling the hair at his neck uncomfortably. “I get that all the time.”

  “Yeah, I bet you do,” I replied, swallowing hard. “It’s good to see you, little brother.” He smiled broadly, standing eye to eye with me, and I understood how much I’d missed. “Where you been hiding?” I joked, not having seen him since I’d arrived.

  “I didn’t know you were here,” he apologized, almost stumbling over the words in his haste. “I’ve been leaving early and coming in late. I haven’t even seen Creed or Jailbait.”

  “It’s fine,” I reassured him, shaking my head. “I was teasing you.” I smiled as he gave me a relieved look. “You’re a grown man, with a life of your own and responsibilities.” I could see how true my words were when I saw the shadows in his eyes. “What you been up to?”

  “Yeah, what have you been up to?” Creed seconded as he sauntered in the room and Crew looked abashed. “Last I heard you were supposed to be helping Clutch in the garage, but you haven’t been there in two days.”

  “I was following a lead,” Crew answered, tilting his chin up. “On Deacon.”

  “Monty’s doing the time for Deacon’s death,” Creed replied, looking unhappy. “You need to leave it alone.”

  Crew bristled obstinately at Creed’s reprimand and from Sloan’s wince, I knew she saw it too. “Catch me up. What’s Monty got to do with Deacon’s death?” I questioned, diverting the attention from Crew. “I thought the Vipers were a brother club,” I continued, referencing the name of Monty’s club.

  “They are,” Creed grimaced, “Were. They were our brothers, until we found out Monty got in the drug business.”

  “He had Deacon killed,” Crew burst out and my gaze flashed to him. “But he wasn’t the one who did the beating.” Crew’s eyes burned with vengeful fury. “They need to pay.”

  “And they will, but you can’t go renegade,” Creed counseled. “We do this together.” Crew nodded reluctantly, clearly not convinced.

  I clapped my hand across his back, “Don’t leave us out of the action, a’ight?” Some of the tension left his shoulders at my comment and his nod was more confident. Creed glanced at me with a mixture of exasperation and gratitude, shaking his head. “Now, what’s going on with the drug business?”

  My question was a little sharper than I intended, garnering a sideways glance from Sloan, but Creed and Crew seemed to expect it. “It looks like Monty decided to dabble in the drug trade. Nina got hooked,” Creed admitted, nodding to Crew, who looked down. “We sent her to rehab, but she’s not welcome back here.”

  “Johnny doesn’t know,” I stated and Crew shook his head. “I’m sorry about your mom, Crew.” He swallowed, refusing to look at me. “Hey,” I shook him until he looked up. “It’s not your fault.” Creed cleared his throat and I sent him a silencing glare. “Better for everyone if Nina gets a fresh start.”

  “You mean cause Johnny would disown her,” Crew commented, the words more resigned than bitter. “The entire club would turn their backs on her.”

  “He has his reasons.” I glanced at Creed. “Which brings me to the reason I was looking for you.” Creed lifted his chin, telling me to go on. “I heard the club’s allowing drugs in Friendly as long as they get a cut.”

  “No,” he responded instantly. “Fuck no. Absolutely not.” He shook his head adamantly. “You heard wrong.”

  “Oh, I didn’t hear wrong, but shit like that brings the wrong kind of attention.”

  “No drugs,” Creed stated flatly. “We cleaned house after –” He broke off uneasily.

  “After Ashley OD’d, killing herself and our unborn child,” I finished for him, silencing the room. Sloan’s mouth was frozen open in horror as I limped past her. “I’m going to bed. It’s been a long day.”

  Chapter Eight

  Tori

  The buzz of a tattoo gun caught my attention and I double checked the time, wondering if I was early. I followed the sound cautiously. I was still pissed about Jacob’s accusation from yesterday and had no desire to run into him until I’d had more time to cool off.

  When I peeked around the corner, the sight of short gray curls met my eyes and I let out a surprisingly girly squeal. “Jean!”

  Her head jerked, but her hand remained steady on the man’s back. “Lord Almighty, Tori, warn an old woman.” She flashed me a wicked grin, gesturing to the broad back under her hand as she winked. “Almost made me ruin this pretty tattoo.”

  “Wouldn’t surprise me if that was her intention,” a familiar voice drawled. “She might have planned it that way.”

  “You,” I growled, stomping closer. “Go ahead and black it out, Jean. Nothing less than he deserves.”

  “I take it you two have met,” Jean murmured, not missing a beat as she continued to work on Cord’s back.

  “Unfortunately,” I said, and hearing him echo the same sentiment, I snapped “Could you not?”

  “Can’t help if I feel the same way, sweetheart.” His fingers started to drum restlessly under the table, drawing my attention to his back. I sucked in a sharp breath and he rolled his head toward me. “Took you long enough.”

  “You fucking bastard,” I hissed, stomping closer to the table where he laid. My gaze swept over the distinctive ink Jean was touching up. “You’re a Rebel.” Betrayal smacked me hard in the chest and Jean gazed at me curiously. “You could have told me.”

  “And ruin your ridiculous assumptions about my family?” He questioned causing Jean to glare at me narrowly. I crossed my arms, refusing to bow to the almighty might of the Rebels.

  “Ridiculous?” I tapped my foot. “You heard him,” I reminded Cord. “True or not, it doesn’t look good for the club.”

  “It’s not true,” he snarled, shifting on the table and Jean barely lifted the needle in time. “Spreading that kind of shit is dangerous.”

  “Protecting the club is dangerous,” I spouted and he came off the table, his hand on my throat as he slammed me against the wall. Jean stared at us in wide eyed shock.

  “Is that a threat?” He rumbled, his chest heaving as he cocked his head toward me. “Because if you threaten my family, I’ll snap your neck right here, right now.” His cold gaze met mine and I knew he’d do it in a heartbeat. “No one will ever look for you.”

  “Cord Hayes, let her go,” Jean bellowed, snapping out of her shock. “Now.” My gaze shot over his shoulder at the hostility in her voice and Cord’s head turned, hearing the same thing I did. “I’m thinking you don’t want Johnny hearing about this,” she continued and my gaze jumped back to Cord.

  “Are you threatening me?” He asked, his voice low and menacing.

  “If you have to ask, then maybe you weren’t paying attention. Let her go or I go to Johnny, and last time I checked you were still –”

  A low laugh rumbled from Cord, concealing whatever Jean was about to say. He eyed me curiously. “You vouch for her?” He questioned, and my nose scrunched at his disbelief.

  “Yes, Cord,” Jean said with more patience than I thought she had.

  “Huh, your boy wouldn’t do the same,” he mentioned and a frown flashed across Jean’s face.

  “He has his reasons,” she said repressively and Cord grabbed my arm, tightening his grip on my throat when I tried to yank away. He worked my sleeve up, revealing the track marks.

  “Wouldn’t have anything to do with these, now would it?” His stare locked with mine and I wanted to protest, to scream at him that he had no right, but he wasn’t wrong. Everything I was or ever would be came back to those faded scars.

  “I thought we agreed you were going to let her go,” Jean replied, her tone deceptively mild. “I wouldn’t want to think a Hayes would go back on his word.” My head thumped against the wall as Cord hastily released me. “Thank you,” Jean said politely and he chuckled mirthlessly, stepping back and my eyes flickered to his bare chest. Faint scars crisscrossed the ridged muscles of his abdomen, highlighted by the holl
owed definition of his Adonis belt.

  “Enjoying the view, princess?”

  My eyes flashed to his as my lip curled. “I’ve seen better,” I sniped as he smirked slowly.

  “We’re done,” Jean interrupted, tossing a shirt at Cord. “And don’t think about coming back until you’re ready to apologize.”

  “Apologize?” Cord questioned incredulously. “To who?”

  “Tori,” Jean answered staunchly. “Now go.” She nodded her head toward the door and Cord eyed her warily as he shuffled past me and it was all I could do not to grin like the Cheshire cat. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Cord Hayes.”

  He glanced at me, pulling the shirt over his head. “Not a clue, Jean. Not a fucking clue.”

  We didn’t say a word until the door shut, the loud clang of the bell telling us he’d left. Jean slapped a hand on the tattoo table, and gave me a hard stare. “What have you gotten yourself into now, Victoria Nicole?”

  I winced at her use of my middle name and scrambled to divert her attention elsewhere. “You’re sick,” I accused, genuine hurt creeping into my voice. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  A heavy sigh escaped her. “There was no point worrying you until I had all the facts.” She wagged a finger at me. “And don’t think you’re getting off so easily, Tori.” Worry deepened the crinkles by her eyes. “Drugs? That’s a slippery slope for anyone, Tori Nicole, but you? It’s downright foolish.”

  I swallowed, my lips compressing, and she shook her head. “Stubborn,” she sighed, “So impossibly stubborn.” I blinked rapidly, hating that I’d disappointed her. “I’m proud of you, Tori,” she said in response to my expression and my lips parted. “Worried, but proud of you. I know you’ve been waging a one woman war out there.”

  “It’s the least I can do,” I whispered, tugging down the sleeve Cord had lifted, hiding the scars of my past once again.

  “It will get you killed,” Jean fussed, concern coating her expression.