by V. Theia
He was bluffing, she knew he was bluffing, if there was any proof of what Reaper had done her father would have used it for blackmail already.
“If you’ve done your research then you know what club he’s associated with.” No reaction from Sargent. “One word from me and you’d be dead.”
But fear was a great motivator and like always she wilted under his tyranny.
“What do you need?”
“Take a fucking seat and catch up with your old dad.”
It wasn’t going to be a pleasant conversation.
Chances were, Paige would hate herself very soon.
Just as fear was a motivator. So was love. And there was nothing she wouldn’t do to safeguard the man who waited for her.
She delivered her first package two hours into her shift, using a family emergency as her excuse to leave. Reaper never knew, because she was there waiting for him later that night as though nothing had devastated her that day.
The same went for the next four nights.
And the two after that.
Being a drug messenger was in her blood.
And Paige had been right; she did hate herself.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
“Always the bride…never cherished.” - Penelope
Just outside Colorado, the Diablo Disciples operation was situated in a small town of just over three thousand full time residents with a few hundred added in peak fishing season.
To say the Prez, Axel Tucker, was in a piss poor mood that day was an under-fucking-statement. He was fit to kill and would do just that if every fucking person didn’t stop bringing problems to his office.
It was enough that the ATF were still over his club like stink on shit. In total, ten of his men were still behind bars doing time on trumped up charges. Okay, not so much trumped up as in caught red handed. That pimped-out asshole Malachai Hunt was out to get them whichever way he could, be it legal or otherwise to earn his goddamn cop place in heaven or whatever it was that made cops balls so damn big.
He hated that guy and wanted to put a bullet in his head so damn badly but even Axel knew not to kill a fucking cop without the plan being full proof first.
He hated him more because it was proving hard to bribe him.
The overachiever had to go if he couldn’t be bought, and Axel didn’t care if it was over a bridge in his fancy cage or he was found swinging from the rafters.
Every month it was something else, some new charge interfering with his business and if he wasn’t careful one day he’d turn around and there would be no MC to go back to. As of now, his firearms and booze imports were on hold indefinitely, losing him goddamn thousands daily and just today he got word some new bastard was undercutting his cocaine supply by a big-fucking-lot.
One of his guys followed a chick last night back to Armado Springs and seeing as how Rider Marinos didn’t allow snow dealers on his turf, Axel knew it was an outside pusher working for someone who wasn’t Axel’s own supplier.
Not to mention his baby-girl, his pride and fucking joy, the reason Axel breathed, was riding his last fucking nerve for how far she pushed back against her boundaries. Roux had a fuck it attitude going for the last however long. His own fault seeing as how he spoiled her rotten ever since her mama up and left them both when she was a kid. He supposed some was partly his fault, what with having a kid when he was only seventeen and not having the first clue how to raise her.
But she continued to ignore how much danger she was putting herself in and he was about to book her a one-way ticket to a convent, she could scream and cry all she wanted, he was putting his foot down with her. No more daddy’s girl who could get away with murder.
“Hey, Prez. You gotta see what just ran through the doors.” His VP hooted from the doorway, excitement in his jerky motions.
Axel sighed, dragged his tattooed fingers through his long hair and shelved any idea to talk to Roux for a second to deal with whatever crap-hurricane it was now.
He shadowed Chains through his clubhouse and overheard the commotion coming from the main room almost instantly. His boys hooting, hollering and cheering in a circle just like the baying bastards they were.
What in the hell were they up to now?
“You’ll let me by right now!” Someone yelled from inside the rabble. Someone with a feminine voice he would have recognized if she belonged to his club, but the tone was too damn uppity to be one of his biker bitches.
This just made the boys laugh even louder.
“What the fuck is going on?”
The crowd parted and swear to fuck, his day was not gonna end well if he really was seeing a mouthy bitch in a big puffy wedding gown in the middle of that circle.
Hands on his denim hips, he eyeballed all the boys. The perverted little shits took chances at grabbing the girl who batted their hands away. They probably hadn’t ever seen a bitch so goddamn elegant before. The women that came through those doors wore considerably less and were always looking for a good time and a hard fuck.
This princess showed fear in her eyes and a credit card bill daddy probably took care of.
So did Roux, for fucks sake, another reason to pack her butt off to a place she couldn’t find trouble in her sleep. But one damn princess at a time.
He rolled up a brow.
“A cab dropped her off.” Chains told him, “she strolled in like she owned the place, started asking for Tait.”
“Tait the fuck who?”
“Is he here?” Wedding Barbie asked rushing forward toward Axel, one of his sergeants at arms stopped her in her tracks by capturing around her waist, making her scream, she shoved him off her, this only provoked more laughter from the boys. “Don’t touch me, you filthy pig.”
“I think she must be a present for us, Prez. Can we keep her, huh?” Simo licked his chops. God help the bitch if he let that deviant have her. “I’ll be real damn nice to the princess, won’t even knock her tiara off.”
“Unless one of you wanna claim to be the fucking groom, back the fuck up.” He warned and his men all fell back with grumbles.
“Seriously, who the fuck is this bitch?”
“This bitch has a name! I’m looking for Tait. I was told he was in a biker gang here, the Renegade Souls.”
“Oh, shit.” One of the boys laughed.
A few more cursed and spat on the floor showing their disgust at hearing another club mentioned on their soil.
Now as much as Axel towed the line with the Souls, with good reason—them being able to crush anyone’s operation with little effort and Axel was not looking to get on Rider Marinos’ shit list any time soon, didn’t mean he was friendly with that lot though.
Not after what that lousy motherfucker from the Souls did to Axel’s baby girl.
Yeah, The Butcher still had a personal debt outstanding as far as Axel was concerned and one of these days he’d call it in. By strangling the guy.
That being the whole fucking reason she was as wayward as she was now.
She’d never forgiven Axel.
“Hate to tell you, sweetheart, but you took a wrong fucking turn.” Axel supplied and watched her eyes go saucer big.
She looked ridiculously rich in her huge dress clinging to her skinny frame, what the fuck did it have under it to make it so big? Bitches be crazy with that shit.
And just like that, as he eyed the expensive material dancing around her ankles with every lacy swish, cogs started to turn in Axel’s head.
Little girl with her stream of shiny hair was probably worth a penny or two.
Especially to her rich daddy. Maybe even to the Souls.
Just bet that rich daddy would want his wandering princess back in one untouched piece.
Oh, yeah. Greedy cogs turned in Axel’s mind.
He needed to stay afloat somehow while they waited for this bullshit with the ATF to blow over.
“Where you from, baby?” He asked, his question unanswered as her wild eyes pinged toward every noticeable exit. It
took one step forward for her to realize he wanted an answer.
“H-Harrison. New York. I’m from New York.”
Chains whistled, sharing a look with Axel.
Yeah, Harrison had all those fucking mansions worth a nice penny.
He didn’t know why she’d landed on his doorstep in a wedding gown, he could give a shit if she was crazy or a minute away from getting hitched, it was gonna be one of those socialite problems, like getting the wrong coffee from Starbucks. Problems so fucking important to little spoiled bitches who wouldn’t know the real world was a dirty, shitty place if their pampered, overindulged lives depended on it.
“Like you were told, baby, you’re at the wrong club. The Souls are in Armado Springs, Colorado.”
“What? The uber dropped me off here.” She trembled, her lower lip wobbling. She flung herself on a couch and began sniffling into a piece of silk pulled from her diamond purse. “I need to get there; can you call me a cab?”
God save him from the damn theatrics. He dealt enough with his own girl, only Roux was much more violent in her tantrums.
And on cue his princess with her toting attitude strode through the door. Skinny denim jeans, buckled leather boots, a shirt too fucking tight slashed down the front in a sharp V and her hair in a long swinging tail, she’d shaved the sides just last week and he thought it looked badass.
Axel narrowed his eyes and checked his watch. “If you tell me you lost another goddamn job….”
Hip cocked; she gave him her daring glare that reminded him of her mother. “Then I won’t tell you. The guy was a pervert, I wasn’t staying there.”
Axel looked to the heavens. He could deal with her later.
“Who is this?” Roux asked coming to a stop at his side.
“This here is the queen of fucking Sheba, and she’s your new best friend while she stays with us. Watch her, Chains.” Axel ordered, kissed Roux’s forehead and turned on his heel, back to his office.
He had a call to make.
Several minutes later he greeted the Renegade Souls front man.
“This is a strange one, Rider. Do you have a guy over there called Tait?”
Silence.
“What’s it to you?”
That told Axel they surely did.
“Do me a solid and you let him know we have something that belongs to him and if he still wants it in one piece he needs to come and get it pronto and bring his check book with him.”
“What the fuck you talkin’ about? I doubt you have anything that belongs to one of my guys.”
“Guess again, my friend. She’s about so tall, from New York and crying right now ‘cause my boys are dying to taste a little princess. I can’t hold them off too long.” He bullshitted. His boys were many things, so fucking many bad things, but rapists were not one of ‘em.
“Sounds to me like you’re threatenin’, Axel.” Rider’s voice grew dark.
Axel knew he was chancing his own life here.
But hard times called for hard fucking risks and this little rich girl had landed on his doorstep like kismet was kissing his butt.
“You wanna rethink that real fuckin’ quick, friend.”
“You know I have no reason to fuck with you, Rider. It’s a straight business transaction seeing as how I’m babysitting. But if you have a guy over there called Tait, then let him know we have his property and to come and pay for it.”
The call ended, not before Rider Marinos had his say with a warning.
Axel wasn’t too worried. He had enough to manage already.
But maybe, just maybe, a meal ticket to help save his club had wandered in off the street. He could hope anyway.
* * *
Rider threw his feet down off the large desk in his back office and mentally ran through the bullshit conversation he’d just had. Axel wouldn’t be dumb enough to fuck around with Rider’s club, not even on his craziest day so he had to reckon whatever chick was over there was something to do with Texas.
He walked slowly along the hallway and pushed open the door to the church, the boys around the table waiting on him.
There was a lot to talk about, namely the good news that they’d all but drained Grigori of his stateside funds, cut off his suppliers, blocked his path to Rider’s ports and had him banned from every illegal gambling game the Russian could try to enter.
It was petty, but Rider felt fucking good for once.
He’d warned the guy to leave and it was almost time to put act two into place.
He’d share all that with his patched boys in a few minutes, but when he took his seat he asked. “Who knows where Texas is?”
Gazes pinged around the long table.
“No one? Snake?”
“No idea, Prez. I went by his place a few times after Christmas and it was locked up like he wasn’t living there, the neighbor said she hadn’t seen or heard from him in weeks.”
“His phone is cut off, too.” Offered Preacher with a grimace, like he thought he was betraying the club by admitting he’d tried to call the guy.
What needed to be done was already done, Rider wouldn’t regret his decision.
Texas fucked up at every turn.
He gave a quick rundown of the situation over at the Diablo’s.
It was Reaper who used his voice to ask. “They’re holding a girl hostage?”
“Dunno. Sounds like they want money for her whoever the fuck it is. Could be Axel pushing his luck.” Rider said and he met Lawless’ gaze. “You know how to get a message to him?”
“I can try if that’s what you want.”
Rider rolled a shoulder. He was still pissed off with the guy, hurt over the brother betrayal. No matter how much his Zara talked about forgiveness, Rider wasn’t that man. He’d lived a hard, unforgiving, brutal life. He was soft for his girl and kids, but anything relating with his MC life, he had to be the man with the iron fist.
He’d let Texas off lightly, that was as far as forgiveness went.
He missed his friend and hated kicking out a brother, yet anger was still his overriding emotion with it all.
“Do it, let him deal with his own mess. We have Russians to discuss…”
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
“I didn’t come this far just to get conjugal visits. - Reaper
After the shift from hell where the cook had no less than five meltdowns. And then one of her waitresses called out sick. A summons from her dad just capped off her crappy day.
She drove home half dead and hoped the first sight of Reaper washed her skin clean and emptied her mind.
How was she right back where she once was?
Her father had her over an emotional barrel making her feel small and insignificant once more, that’s how.
The warmth of the apartment and the scent of her oil diffusers greeted her. She smiled despite feeling crappy. Being home meant everything was okay.
There was no sign of Reaper at first. His boots were by the door where he left them, and his jacket tossed over a chair. Keys and wallet on the hall table so he was here somewhere and then she heard the shower and without thought, her feet took her through to their bedroom and into the bathroom.
A sick little rush spiked her guilt. She could almost hear the sounds of the heaviness gathering inside her the longer Paige went on looking at a wet, naked Reaper.
Guilt and lust, stacked up, ten deep inside her brain, but of course it was the lust that won. She could be guilt-ridden every other second of the day, right now she was in need.
Before she knew it she was dropping her clothes at the speed of light. Off came her uniform, she kicked her floral Skechers in two different directions, her fingers desperately peeling down the thigh high stockings.
Fatigue dogged her slow steps, but her pumping heart was all too eager to climb into the steam with her beautiful man.
His hair was scraped back wetly from his face and he had his head canted down under the water, he looked like a God of Thunder bathing as she glided the door
open and only then did he look up. Twin tawny fires burned down to her soul.
Instantly Reaper used his hands on her waist to pull her the rest of the way in, plastering her to the wall under the square shower head up above.
Sexy biker lips took hers.
He was every illegal drug rushing through her blood.
That first squeeze of desire stole her breath every time. Even though now she’d tasted him, kissed every inch of that sinful body, she’d sat astride the stomach with the quilted blocks of muscles and rolled her hands all over his chest, she knew how hard he felt. But as she got up close and personal with her man’s body, her breath was literally stolen from her lungs.
Both of Reaper’s hands stole over her head, one at the back holding her close, the other brushed hair from her forehead.
She didn’t warrant his fussing; she didn’t deserve the care and attention he gave to her. The way he got up thirty minutes early to make sure the coffee was hot before he climbed back into bed to wake her. Or the way he cut the crusts off her sandwiches or rubbed her feet at the end of a hard shift. She definitely didn’t deserve how hard and long he loved her, but she soaked it all up like a greedy sponge.
Onslaught of emotions. Flapping of butterflies in her stomach and she leaned in ever so slightly to let him feel the crazy, intense emotions inside her too.
Being loved by him in the fiercest way? It’s a wonder her feet weren’t permanently two feet off the floor.
“You look exhausted, baby.” His frown came with a delicious side order of lips roaming across her face. She leaned into him and basked like a lizard in the sun.
“You look so fuckable,” she blurted, unable to see past anything but their sexual fog.
He was utterly breath-taking just how his big body filled out clothes. But out of them? She needed a defibrillator. Lifting her arms, she looped both around his neck, shuffled in closer until his hard arousal made itself known against her stomach. Her brain emptied when his hands slid down to hold her hips.