Two Tricks (Hidden Empire Book 1)

by Elizabeth Knight

  Contents

  1. Dax

  2. Dax

  3. Eagle

  4. Dax

  5. Dax

  6. Cognac

  7. Dax

  8. Dax

  9. Dax

  10. Picasso

  11. Dax

  12. Eagle

  13. Dax

  14. Sprocket

  15. Dax

  16. Dax

  17. Weston

  18. Dax

  19. Cognac

  20. Dax

  21. Dax

  22. Dax

  23. Eagle

  24. Dax

  25. Picasso

  26. Dax

  27. Dax

  28. Dax

  29. Dax

  30. Weston

  31. Dax

  Elizabeth Knight

  Also by Elizabeth Knight

  Attention, please!

  Don't TOUCH Sprocket!! Soul mate to Letty on loan to Dax.

  Copyright 2021 © Elizabeth Knight

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used to reproduce, scan, or be distributed in any printed or electronic form in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations for articles or reviews. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials.

  Knight, Elizabeth

  Two Tricks

  Editing: Refined Voice Editing

  Cover artist: Dazed Designs

  Formatting: Bookish Author Services

  The feel of my fist hitting against flesh is such an oddly satisfying feeling. Especially when it’s some cockwaffle who owes an explanation to the leader of my organization. I flicked my wrist to shake off the blood and snot I got from punching the man in the nose.

  “Zeek, Zeek, Zeek,” I sang as I walked around the chair he was tied to. “You do realize that the fact that I’m here dealing with this problem means you royally fucked up, right?”

  “Dax… please… I didn’t know who they were,” Zeek begged, his eyes as wide as they could be considering they were swelling shut. Blood dripped off his chin from his broken nose and the cut under one eye.

  Grabbing a handful of hair, I yanked his head back so he could look me in the eye. Even though I was five foot nothing, having him sitting brought him to the perfect level, and I used that to my advantage. “Here’s the thing—I don’t believe you. Two Tricks’ number one rival comes to you to smuggle their dirty money out of the country, and you didn’t know? The De León cartel isn’t where they are today from making rookie mistakes like that.”

  I released his hair and took out one of my daggers from my thigh sheath, flipping it as I started my walk around his chair again. When I faced him, I grasped the hilt tight and slammed the knife into the chair right between his legs, just missing the family jewels.

  “You fucking crazy bitch!” Zeek spat out, getting blood on me.

  I frowned down at the blood, then looked back at Zeek, my eyes narrowing. “What did you just call me?”

  Horror washed over Zeek’s face as he understood what he’d done.

  “I’m sorry, please, I didn’t mean to call you that. I apologize. You are in no way a bitch. You’re crazy—but not a bitch,” Zeek back-pedaled, desperate to keep himself alive. But he had done the one thing he shouldn’t, so I stabbed him in the meaty part of his thigh and twisted.

  “FUCK ME, SON OF A BITCH! I’ll admit it! You’re right, I knew who they were! They gave me the payment up front and said if I proved to be trustworthy, they would double it next time. I should’ve never made the deal; I knew you would find out. You always find out.”

  I patted Zeek’s cheek roughly, giving him a smile. “Thank you for being honest and apologizing for being so rude. Now that I have this valuable information, I’ll let my boys take over.”

  I waved a hand to Jeff and Brian, two of my soldiers, signaling them to finish the job. I’d gotten the information I needed, and Wes had already gotten the hard data off Zeek’s computer, so my work here was done. I stopped to wash my hands and arms in the kitchen sink, making sure to remove all the blood. Wouldn’t want to bring any evidence of what happened here as I took the long way back on my new bike.

  Pulling on my helmet, I started my new baby up and took off out of the warehouse parking lot. The feel of the wind whipping by me while the sun beat down on my skin made me feel alive, and the hum of the engine between my legs made me smile at the raw power I controlled.

  Oh, I’m sure you’re thinking I’m on some sleek crotch rocket in a bikini like all the other girls in L.A. Naw, not me. Nope, I needed something a little more substantial between my thighs. My baby was a stripped-down, blacked-out, Harley Iron 883, customized for more speed and power that could take me anywhere. Or at least outrun any cop that would try and stop me.

  The chirp in my ear signaled that I had a call coming in, and I glanced down at my smartwatch to see who it was. The shop. Growling, I swiped to accept the call to my helmet’s audio.

  “This better be good,” I demanded. Wes knew not to bother me on a job.

  “Kimber’s here,” Weston stated. “She brought a friend who wants you to set up a meeting with Tricks.”

  Icy shock ran through my veins at this information. “I’m on my way.”

  Hanging up the call, I gunned the throttle on my bike, weaving through traffic as cars honked at me. Showing how much I cared, I flipped them off as I left them in my dust. Why was Devin’s hoebag of a wife looking for me, of all people?

  When my twin chose to join the Blackjax Motorcycle Club to be with Kimber, I lost my shit. I of course didn’t find out about it until I’d graduated college, bastard having kept that tidbit from me. It was the first time I’d realized Devin kept a lot of secrets from me, and it eventually caused his death. I’d gotten my revenge on the responsible parties, but it still didn’t change that half my soul was gone, never to be replaced.

  Arriving, I drove right onto the sidewalk of our Main Street location. The alleyway next to the building was the perfect place for me to park my bike, and that’s exactly what I did. Tugging off my helmet, I shook out my short pink hair and swung my leg over and off the bike.

  Yeah, I might hate motorcycle gangs, but I didn’t hold their actions against the machine.

  The door chime sounded as I walked into the tattoo shop, Silver Bullet Ink, that I owned and ran with my best friend Weston. I took pride in my shop and wanted it to be an experience like none other. The walls were dark gray, almost black, with huge black and white abstract paintings I created breaking up the darkness. The waiting area had a white tufted leather couch and two armchairs with a black coffee table in the middle, and the floor contained four semi-private rooms sectioned off with black velvet curtains.

  I clomped my leather boots up the steps to the open lounge area outside the office Weston and I shared in the loft, knowing that was where he would be waiting with our guests. I wanted them to know I was coming.

  In one of the four vintage, blood-red leather armchairs was a woman with long black hair and bright green eyes looking up at me. Her lips thinned as she took me in, as if she disapproved of everything I stood for. I got that a lot, but ask me if I gave a fuck. She was dressed in a fitted black skirt with a silk cream blouse, her black suit jacket draped over her lap. Everything about this woman reeked of money and privilege, making me dislike her instan
tly. She rose gracefully from her seat and walked over to me. Even without the four-inch heels she would have looked down at me, but this felt more like a power play.

  “Dax, I presume. It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m Gabriella Rossi, Kimber’s cousin,” she said, holding out her perfectly manicured hand. “Thank you so much for helping to set up this meeting. I know Two Tricks doesn’t meet anyone without an introduction.”

  “What shit-for-brains said I would set up a meet?” I snapped as I looked at her hand, then back up to her face. “What would you want with him anyway? You’re not really his type.”

  I glared over at Kimber, who was looking far too pleased with herself. She was your picture-perfect trailer trash. Badly bleached blonde hair, tank top that never seemed to cover her stomach, and short-shorts that were frayed at the bottom. To tie it all together, she had on worn-out, calf-high cowboy boots.

  I could fucking kill her for bringing this woman to my shop. We never did business here, and she knew it. Kimber was one slippery bitch, always keeping you guessing on her motives. Apparently she’d already promised I would set up a meeting, and miss fancy pants thought I knew about it and agreed to help…. What a cunt.

  Gabriella sighed and dropped her hand. “Why don’t we sit?”

  “No, I don’t think so,” I answered. “See, the thing is, my lovely dead brother’s wife didn’t tell me anything about this. I never agreed to help or set up a meeting with anyone, least of all Two Tricks.”

  Apparently, I wasn’t going to get rid of her that easily.

  “Well, that is problematic and certainly not starting us off on the right foot,” Gabriella said, turning to sit back down. “Seems to me that I should use this chance to explain myself and see if you can help us.”

  Fine. She wanted to play hardball? I’m game. She had no idea who she was dealing with, and that gave me the upper hand in this negotiation.

  “Okay, I’ll bite,” I said, sitting in the opposite chair and propping my feet on the coffee table, totally relaxed.

  Gabriella looked over me again, and I knew what she saw. My pastel pink hair always caught people’s eye first. Then they took in my elfin features with my almond eyes that were more silver than blue. That’s where the softness ended. My nose and septum were pierced with hoops, as well as my bottom lip. My ears were gauged, large enough you could notice, but I didn’t have hockey pucks waving about. The starting wisps of my chest tattoo peeked through the holes in my band t-shirt, and more tattoos covered my left arm and the bottom half of my right. The holes in my skinny jeans showed more tattoos on my legs. I was a walking contradiction of cute and deadly, all in one bundle.

  And I fucking loved it.

  “I represent a third party who would like to start doing business, but finding a way to make an offer is rather difficult,” Gabriella explained.

  I didn’t answer right away, considering if I should give her any hope at all.

  “I don’t like getting blindsided in my own shop by someone I don’t know, much less a person referred to me by someone I no longer consider family. Tricks doesn’t need more business. Especially from a small fish.”

  “They are no small fish, Dax,” Gabriella interjected.

  I grinned. She wasn’t a pushover, that’s for sure. “Trust me. If they were worth the introduction, they would already be on his radar. He makes the first move, not the other way around.”

  “Then it seems I have taken up your time unnecessarily,” Gabriella finally admitted, clearly regretting trusting Kimber by coming here to meet me. “Let me leave you with some information. Maybe you can pass it along, just on the off chance he overlooked a promising venture.”

  “Leave me the details and I’ll reach out if something changes,” I said without really committing to anything.

  Gabriella nodded and reached in her purse, pulling out a business card and a manila envelope stuffed with papers.

  We stood and gave each other one more assessing look before she and Kimber made their way down the stairs and out of the shop. Looking down at the card, I saw she was a lawyer—a very expensive one, if the firm name was anything to go by.

  “She’s legit,” Weston assured, drawing my attention. He was leaning against the doorway to the office. “I checked into her while you were talking.”

  Wes was every girl’s wet dream. His short hair was slick and styled to perfection. He had dark brown eyes that missed nothing, and full lips that begged to be kissed. He took care of himself and it showed, the outline of his toned muscles visible through his snug shirt. In my opinion, it helped that he was tatted from that strong, stubborn jaw all the way down to his big toe.

  How did I know? Well, eighty percent of the art on his body was done by me.

  Wes and I had been best friends since we were both in the same foster home. We managed to stick together through everything and come out on top. Wes was a kick-ass hacking genius—anything that had to do with technology was his bitch. A few times the FBI and the CIA tried to recruit him from college, but he turned them down, not wanting to leave me on my own.

  “You check her accounts?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

  “She doesn’t seem to be on anyone’s payroll we need to be concerned about. Although it looks like her law office is going to make her partner soon, which could change that.”

  I grinned at him, shaking my head, and slipped past him into our office. “What else did you find on her? She can’t be clean if she’s looking to broker a deal with Tricks.”

  I dropped into my chair and rolled over to his side of the large metal desk we shared. He had two monitors filled with dozens of open windows. He liked to live in organized chaos on his computer, but in the real world, he was a neat freak. Which drove me crazy when he yelled at me for leaving messes everywhere in our shared townhouse. We each had our own floors for a reason.

  “It’s not that she’s dirty, per se… it’s more that she helps some problematic people in her family.” Wes sat back from the keyboard and looked at me.

  Oh, this wasn’t going to be good.

  “The Rossi family is an interesting find. The parents are straight-laced, second-generation Italians. Emilio, Gabriella’s father, is also a lawyer, but he works mostly with immigration cases. Her mother has been a homemaker their whole marriage.”

  I frowned, not seeing why he was so worried. I opened my mouth to ask, but he stopped me with a look. Huffing, I sat back, letting him have his way. He was driving me crazy with the dramatics.

  “It’s her two younger brothers we need to watch out for. Enzo and Teo. They’re the leaders of the Phantom Saints.”

  “Wait, the Phantom Saints?” I questioned.

  “Yup.”

  Fuck me!

  All I could do for a moment was stare at him. If he had told me they were mobsters, I would have been prepared for that, being from an Italian family… but a motorcycle club?

  My history with MCs was less than stellar. The final straw had been when Devin had to take the fall on a major drug bust for his club’s vice president. It landed him in jail for two years, and while he was there, just trying to survive, he got cornered into working with a rival drug ring. The Blackjax saw it as a betrayal and turned their backs on him.

  Devin would still be alive if his supposed MC “family” had taken him back.

  “So Gabriella works for them. Does the family as well?” I asked, trying to figure out their circle.

  “Gabriella is their lawyer and has gotten them out of plenty of charges and jail time. Dad knows but wants nothing to do with any of it. Mom might know, but she plays dumb and keeps her nose out of it,” Wes answered readily.

  Gabriella wasn’t wrong—the Phantom Saints were no small fish. Tricks had been on the top of their “to do” list ever since wiping out the Blackjax, their sister club.

  “There’s no way I’m allowing a meeting with them,” I declared. Tricks never worked with MCs.

  “I get that, but if they really want to m
ake a deal, the only thing holding them back is that they’re a motorcycle gang,” Wes countered.

  “My job is to protect Tricks and the Hidden Empire,” I fumed, “so what argument is there for working with them when they might just kill him if they don’t get their way?”

  “You’re telling me Tricks would pass up the chance to have the largest West Coast MC in his back pocket because it’s dangerous?” Wes scoffed, folding his arms over his chest. “You know this is a good idea.”

  Times were changing, and the Phantom Saints were making a mark, drawing unwanted attention from the competition. You could only stay the big fish for as long as you could hold it, and from what I found out today, Tricks needed to worry about the De León cartel. Having an established biker gang to act as an army would make defending the empire much easier.

  “Then why don’t you try and convince me this is a good idea first?” I snapped, not wanting to give in to the idea just yet.

  Wes shook his head and turned back to his computer, ignoring me. There were not many people that could get away with that. Scratch that—there was one person who could get away with that—so I growled and stormed out the door, going down towards the studio space. I needed to sketch, punch, or fuck something, and soon. It was the only way I could process all of this without blowing up at someone.

  “Hey boss lady,” Jonesie called as I passed his space.

  I paused, took a deep breath, and walked a step back. “What’s up, slacker? You just getting set up for the day?”

  Jonesie grinned at me. He was a huge beast of a man with a heart of gold. “You know I ain’t no slacker. Taking care of a pregnant wife is harder than you think.”