Nitro: MC Biker Romance (Dark Pharaohs Motorcycle Club Romance Book 4)

by Ivy Black

“To some of us, this club is everything,” I say.

  “Then you need to get a life,” he says.

  I shrug. “I found one. A lot of us have,” I respond. “This club gave us a life after we all came home from the shit. Gave us a sense of family and belonging. What the fuck happened to you? If you thought this club was nothin’, why didn’t you just leave? Nobody would’ve stopped you.”

  Grease says nothing, he just continues to glower at me, pure hatred in his eyes. I turn to Prophet.

  “There’s no use talkin’ to him anymore,” I say. “He doesn’t care.”

  “You’re right, I don’t,” Grease spat, regaining some of his swagger. “And I don’t feel bad for a damn thing.”

  “You got four of Tarantula’s guys clipped. And for what?” I ask.

  “For a lot of money. That’s what.”

  “So it’s money before your brothers, huh?”

  “You were never my brothers.”

  I nod. “I guess that’s right.”

  I walk behind him, grab hold of the edge of his patch, and yank it viciously. The sound of the fabric tearing is as loud as a gunshot in the silence. I step back with the main patch that was on his back now in my hand. He looks at me then his eyes shift to the patch in my hand, and I see the look in his eye: it’s sadness. It’s as if he’s only just realizing what he’s losing. It’s as if he’s now learning to appreciate what he had.

  Grease quickly recovers though and clears his throat. He adopts the surly expression on his face and goes back to glaring daggers at me. I toss the patch to the ground in front of him, and he can’t stop himself from watching it fall, the understanding of what he’s just thrown away pressing down on him. He tears his eyes away from the patch then looks up at Prophet.

  “So what now?” he asks.

  “You betrayed the MC,” Prophet says. “You betrayed me.”

  “Prophet, I—”

  “You could have gotten us all killed here today. And for what? Fifty grand?”

  Grease shakes his head. “It’s not like—”

  He never gets to finish his statement because Prophet steps forward, pulling his sidearm at the same time. In one fast, fluid movement, Prophet puts the barrel of his weapon flush against Grease’s forehead and pulls the trigger. The shot sounds like a cannon going off, and Grease’s head snaps backward, a spray of red bursting from the back of his head and splattering onto the dirt behind him. Bala has to dance backward to keep from getting it on his shoes.

  Grease’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, a small hole leaking blood on the center of his forehead. He topples backward, lands flat on his back with a wet, meaty sound and is still. Grease’s eyes are open and fixed in that permanent blank expression of death. I know I should feel bad. He was one of us, after all. But I don’t. As I look upon his corpse, I feel nothing.

  Bala whistles low and exchanges a look with Tarantula who looks surprised but then starts to chuckle grimly to himself.

  “Jesus, homes,” he says. “And I thought we were hard-core.”

  “Tell it to the guy you’ve got bound in the back of your van,” Prophet says.

  Tarantula laughs again. “Still not nearly as cold as what you did. I mean ice fuckin’ cold, ese.”

  “You gotta do what you gotta do to protect your club,” Prophet says with a shrug.

  “Simon,” he replies and looks pointedly at the van. “You gotta do what you gotta do.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Nitro

  The sun has just started ascending, signaling the start of a new day. I sit on the porch of the clubhouse, drinking a cup of coffee. The previous day’s events are scrolling through my head on an endless loop. No matter how many times I try to banish the image, I keep seeing Grease’s open dead eyes in my mind.

  I try to shake it off and think about something more pleasant. After the warehouse, I came home to Hadley, which was nice. Well, it was once we got past the initial difficulty—that difficulty being Rollins. It was all Hadley could do to keep me from going out and putting two in his head right then and there. Seeing her so scared had triggered something in me, and I wanted to remove that fear from her life. Permanently.

  But after a beer and a moment to gather myself, along with some good conversation, I was back on an even keel. Hadley and I had a really nice evening together, and it had made me forget all about what happened at the warehouse. For a while anyway. I’d spent a mostly sleepless night thinking about how everything went down and trying to figure out why it was bothering me.

  “You all right?”

  I turn and see Spyder walk up and drop down into the chair next to mine, cup of coffee in hand. He puts his foot up on the railing and leans back.

  “Yeah, I’m good,” I say.

  “You still trippin’ about yesterday?”

  I shrug. “Yeah, a little.”

  “You shouldn’t give it another thought. Prick got what he deserved.”

  “Yeah, I know he did.”

  It’s not the fact that Prophet clipped Grease. Like Spyder said—he deserved it. And like Prophet said, you betray your brothers, you pay the price. I don’t have a problem with that. And it’s not like I haven’t seen plenty of dead bodies in my day. That’s not why this is sticking in my mind.

  “Then why is it bothering you?” Spyder asks.

  “I guess I’m stuck on the fact that he betrayed us. Betrayed his brothers,” I say. “I don’t know how somebody could do that.”

  He chuckles. “Bala calls you a Boy Scout—behind your back, of course.”

  I laugh softly and shake my head. That sounds like something he’d say. Bala is an eerie guy, but he’s also got a pretty good sense of humor.

  “That’s not a bad thing, Nitro. It means you’ve got a strong moral compass. A good heart,” he says.

  “I think most of us do. Which is why I’m still having trouble with Grease fucking us all over.”

  “I wouldn’t spend too much time worrying about it,” he says. “Grease got what he deserved. And that’s not on you. Prophet made the final call.”

  That much was true. I’d thought de-patching him was going to be good enough. But Prophet apparently hadn’t thought so. Obviously. It came as a surprise to me but like he said, it wasn’t my call.

  But as I think about it more, I realize Grease’s fate isn’t the only thing that’s been weighing on me. I take a drink of my coffee, letting the thought play out in my mind. I look down into my mug and frown as the thoughts crystallize.

  “You know, I think the thing that’s bothering me the most is how quickly I shifted into the guy I was back in the shit,” I say. “The fact that I killed so easily, without hesitation, it’s just sticking in my mind. It worries me.”

  He nods as if he understands and maybe he does. But as I recall the way I’d charged across the field, putting bullets into people—that’s something I thought I’d left behind. Something I thought I’d left back in Afghanistan. Over there, I clipped people and never gave it a second thought. They were the enemy, and it was my job to neutralize them.

  And that piece of me came roaring out again yesterday. I’d moved through that field, squeezing off shots and putting the bad guys down. They were the enemy, and it was my job to neutralize them. I’d done it without hesitation. It was in defense of my brothers, and I’d do it again.

  But I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t some small part of me that cringes at just how easily I killed yesterday. I’ve done so much work on myself with my therapist that I fear I’m morphing back into the man I used to be. The man I’ve worked so hard to get away from. After Hadley left me, I knew I needed to make some changes. And I have. But there’s a piece of me that fears all the progress I’ve made is going to be for nothing. Like I’m going to regress and go back to being that angry and moody man that I once was.

  “You did what you had to do, man,” Spyder says. “You defended your brothers. There’s no wrong
in what you did. I get what you’re trippin’ on, but you can choose what you do with that.”

  “I wish it was that simple.”

  “It is. You can choose how you’re going to be. You can choose to keep using the tools you’ve learned in therapy,” he says. “Or you can choose not to. It really does boil down to the choices you make.”

  I look at him and grin. He just smiles back and takes a drink of his coffee.

  “What?” he finally asks. “I’ve done my tours through therapy too, you know. You’re not the only one who’s needed to talk things out.”

  I nod and look down into my mug again, letting his words rattle through my head. Prophet comes out of the clubhouse then walks over to us. His face is tight and his expression grim.

  “There’s still work to do,” he says.

  I nod. “Just caffeinating myself before we get to it.”

  “Are you guys ready for this?”

  “Hell yeah,” Spyder says. “This is going to be fun.”

  “Let’s not get cocky,” Prophet says. “We need to be sharp and we need to be on our toes.”

  “Is everything else ready?” I ask.

  He nods. “Yeah, everything is set.”

  I glance at my watch. “He should be here in ten minutes or so.”

  “Yep. Last chance to back out.”

  “Is she good?” I ask.

  He nods. “Says she is.”

  “Then we’re good to go.”

  “For the record, I think this is dangerous,” Prophet says.

  Spyder chuckles. “After some of the shit he’s had us pull, now he’s preaching caution?”

  Prophet looks at him coldly, and the smile disappears from Spyder’s face—which makes me chuckle.

  The black SUV comes through the gates of the compound and pulls to a stop. I glance over at Prophet.

  “He’s a few minutes early,” I say.

  He shrugs. “He’s apparently anxious to get this done. Maybe your instincts aren’t as crazy as I thought.”

  “Everybody know their parts?”

  “Of course,” Prophet says.

  “All right then. It’s showtime.”

  Rollins gets out of the SUV and walks over to us. He pauses at the bottom of the stairs and considers us for a moment then mounts the three steps and walks over. He crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the rail.

  “So? What am I doing out here?” Rollins asks. “You said you wanted to talk deal.”

  Prophet nods. “I did. Nitro here tells me you’ve got a mountain of evidence on the MC. He thinks it’s bullshit but I’m more cautious by nature.”

  A slow grin stretches across his thin lips. He looks at us like he’s a shark and he’s smelling a drop of blood in the water. Like he’s sensing victory.

  “Nitro here also tells me you offered him immunity to flip on us,” Prophet says.

  Rollins nods. “I did. Like I told him, you can never have too much evidence these days. And the testimony of one of you dirtbags would have been compelling,” he says. “Alas, he turned me down. And not in the nicest possible way, I might add.”

  “Go fuck yourself—”

  Prophet holds up a hand, telling me to calm down. I sit back in my seat and take a drink of my coffee, letting it all play out.

  “Nitro is a good soldier. He’ll do whatever it takes to protect the MC,” Prophet says. “He’d never betray his brothers. Ever.”

  “So I’ve discovered,” Rollins says. “Now, what is this deal you’re offering?”

  “We want the evidence you have to go away,” Prophet says. “We’re willing to pay for it. And pay well for it.”

  Rollins chuckles. “Do you really think I want your blood and drug money?”

  Prophet shrugs. “It all spends the same, man. No need to be so self-righteous.”

  “If that’s all you’re offering, we have nothing to discuss,” he says. “And you can expect warrants to be issued soon.”

  Prophet looks over at me meaningfully, giving me a nod. I sigh dramatically, shake my head, and lower my gaze, staring intently into my coffee mug.

  “We’ve got something else we can offer you,” Prophet says. “Something you apparently really desire.”

  Rollins quirks a grin and cocks his head. “And what is it you think you know about my desires?”

  “Well, if what Nitro here says is true, I know a lot.”

  Rollins looks over at me, and I glower at him, projecting all the hate I feel through my eyes at him. He smirks at me.

  “And what is it Nitro here has told you?” Rollins asks, an unmistakable hint of excitement in his voice.

  Prophet whistles and a moment later, the door to the clubhouse opens and Cosmo steps onto the porch. His face is dark, his eyes troubled, and he’s got a hand around Hadley’s arm, dragging her along with him. Her eyes are wide and pleading. Her hands are bound in front of her, and she’s got a gag around her mouth. Spyder gets up and walks to the other end of the porch, looking out over the yard. Rollins’ expression brightens, and he immediately gets to his feet and walks over, licking his lips. He slips the gag off her mouth as he looks from me to Prophet then to Hadley. Rollins clears his throat and turns back to Prophet.

  “What’s this?” he asks.

  “Please,” Hadley cries. “Please, don’t do this. Milo, please look at me.”

  I look away, not wanting to meet her eyes then lower my gaze, looking at the dark brew in my mug.

  “It’s what you desire most, according to Nitro,” Prophet states.

  “To be honest, I’m not one hundred percent down with this,” I tell Rollins, my voice low and gruff. “But if it protects the club, I’m willing to step up and sacrifice.”

  “Milo! You can’t do this to me!” Hadley screams. “You can’t do this. What kind of monster are you?”

  “And what do you expect me to do with her?” Rollins asks, though his tone is suggestive, as if this is something he’s already thought about.

  Prophet shrugs. “Don’t rightly care, to be honest. Just so long as this evidence you’ve got against us goes away.”

  “Milo!” she screams, struggling and thrashing in Cosmo’s grip.

  Rollins’ eyes are fixed on Hadley, and she looks away, tears streaming down her face. She keeps struggling but can’t break Cosmo’s grip on her arm. Rollins turns back to me, a salacious smile on his face.

  “And you’re just offering her up like this, huh?” he asks. “You’re just going to give me the woman you care about.”

  “Like I told you, he’s a good soldier, and he’ll do whatever it takes to protect the club,” Prophet says.

  “I want to hear it from him,” Rollins snaps.

  I shrug. “Like I just said, I don’t like it but if it shields the club then so be it. There will always be other chicks,” I say. “It’s not like we’re married or anything.”

  “Milo! You son of a bitch. You fucking asshole!” Hadley screams. “Let go of me. You can’t do this. You can’t fucking do this to me!”

  Hadley is screaming at the top of her lungs, and she’s pulling at Cosmo’s grip on her. The pain and fear I hear in her voice is getting under my skin. No matter what, I never want her to be afraid. Ever. Spyder turns away, unable to look at Hadley and even Prophet looks uncomfortable.

  Hadley keeps thrashing against Cosmo, whose face is dark and pinched. But he’s a strong man and his hand is like an iron band around her arm. Rollins has an almost crazed look on his face, his smile somehow sinister. He turns to Prophet.

  “So you’ll give her to me in exchange for the evidence I’ve collected against you never seeing the light of day?” Rollins asks.

  “Not just not seeing the light of day. Destroyed. Completely,” Prophet says. “I want every copy of every file, photograph, every tape—everything you have—burned. I want them gone forever. Up in smoke. Set them all on fire, and the girl is yours.”

  Rollins
pauses as if he’s trying to maintain his dignity and not look too eager. He looks from Prophet to Hadley again, that look of crazed desire burning on his face.

  “Deal,” Rollins finally says. “I’ll take that trade.”

  “You can’t do this to me. You’ll never get away with this!” Hadley says.

  “Thought you might,” Prophet says coolly, ignoring Hadley.

  Rollins steps close to Hadley, his eyes taking her in from head to toe. She looks away, seemingly unable to withstand his scrutiny as the tears continue to flow down her face. I get to my feet and walk over to Rollins. I stand nose to nose with him, my eyes burning with the hatred I feel for him.

  “What?” he asks.

  “Don’t hurt her. Don’t make her suffer,” I growl. “She’s a good woman and doesn’t deserve to suffer.”

  “Milo, please,” Hadley sobs, fat crocodile tears sliding down her face. “Don’t do this. Please, don’t do this.”

  “I’m sorry, Hadley,” I say. “But I have to protect the club.”

  Rollins gives me a grin. “Sure. Whatever you say.”

  “I mean it.”

  “You’re trading her for the evidence I have on you,” he says. “Really, why do you care about what happens to her now? As far as I’m concerned, there’s nothing I can do that will ever be as cruel and cold as what you’re doing now.”

  “The MC comes before everything,” I say.

  “Apparently.”

  “Jesus, will you just get her the fuck out of here and be done with this shit?” Spyder chides.

  “Milo, look at me. Please, look at me,” she begs, and when I don’t look at her, adds, “You coward. You fucking coward. You son of a bitch. Milo!”

  Rollins turns to her, a vicious grin on his face. “I told you that you should never say never, darlin’,” he says. “Didn’t I tell you that?”

  He takes hold of her arm and Cosmo lets go, immediately turning away and storming off. Prophet looks down at the ground as if he’s ashamed. But Rollins has a devious grin on his face as he turns and starts to lead Hadley toward the stairs. She struggles and thrashes even harder, trying to break his grip. Rollins, a cruel sneer on his face, grabs her by the hair and starts to drag her, making me wince. I take a step forward, but Prophet puts a hand on my shoulder and when I look back, he shakes his head.